prompt: based on taylor swift's song sad beautiful tragic.
note: im posting fluff after this one, don't worry.
also, yes, i forgot to upload this from when i posted it on my tumblr (@8plasma) lmao.
warnings: angsty. nats kinda mean, sorry :(.
prns: i had a female reader in mind but i don't believe i specified
word count: 1k
. . .
fighting with natasha was never short. some arguments would last a few days, weeks, and sometimes they would carry on for a month. communication wasn't yours or natasha's strongest suits.
it never mattered what went wrong or who said what because somehow you always ended up back together. natasha would hold you in her arms and tell you how sorry she was while you did everything you could think of to help her around the house.
but somewhere along the way, things began to blur. you weren't really sure what caused the argument this time, but it carried more weight than anything you felt before. all you wanted was for natasha to spend some time with you. it wasn't like you were demanding or hounding her about it. all you would do was ask if she wanted to go out or watch a movie together occasionally.
natasha paid no attention though, always mumbling on about work and how much she had to get done. so you left it at that.
however, three months later you were well beyond exhausted. natasha hardly ever slept with you, constantly asked you to do things you'd already done, paying no mind to all the extra stuff you accomplished. nothing was good enough for the redhead and you were beginning to feel like you weren't good enough for her.
so you made it your mission to fix yourself while she was away. you were determined to be everything she could ever ask for by the time her month long business trip was over.
you changed your hair color, toned your body and even switched out your wardrobe to fit to something natasha might like.
with hardly any contact between the two of you, you were sure your new transformation would surprise nat. and despite the fact that natasha hardly ever called or texted you anymore, you were still so hopeful things would be different.
they were not.
the day natasha came home you had the house cleaned up and her favorite meal served on a plate waiting for her at the table.
all you had to do now was wait. and wait. and wait.
six hours later and you had tears streaming down your face while natasha complained about how much food you made.
"it's not fucking thanksgiving, why the hell did you make so much?" she scoffed, throwing the metal fork in her hand towards the sink. the sound caused you to jump. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. stop crying and go to bed. you shouldn't have even waited for me."
"nat?"
"what?" she gritted, knuckles white as she gripped the counter. "you could at least face me, tasha-"
natasha rolled her eyes. "quit with the nicknames. you aren't three years old."
"i'm sorry i-"
"and your hair looked better before. whatever you did to it now really isn't a look you should be going for." she cut you off once more before shoving past you and making her way into the very same room you'd been sleeping alone in for the past month.
you didn't bother cleaning up or changing clothes that night - rather staying up and trying to muffle your cries.
it was crazy how the person who made you feel the most beautiful could be the very same person who took that, stomped on it, and completely destroyed it within a matter of seconds.
your love for her no longer felt safe and secure. if anything, it felt like natasha was shoving you into the ground with her boot, smearing you down as she mocked you from above.
the next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache. you got up from the couch to see natasha cooking breakfast for herself.
you didn't know it was possible to feel so much heartbreak over such a little thing.
thats when you remembered all the mornings you spent dancing around in the kitchen, pancake batter marking your shirt as natasha tried to steal kisses from your lips. she was warm. and so in love with you.
but staring at natasha now, plate of eggs in front of her, deliberately ignoring your presence, gave you the final push you needed.
"i'm breaking up with you."
green eyes snapped up to meet yours. natasha could tell you were trying so hard to hold your ground. she scoffed, borderline laughing to herself.
"what are talking about?"
you swallowed back a cry. "i want you out of here within the hour."
"oh come on now, y/n-"
"no!" you snapped. "you don't get to say anything. you've stepped all over me, taken everything i've done for you for granted and treated me like i didn't have any value. i'm done, natasha. you broke me."
you gave her one final glance, but even then natasha showed no emotion on her face. there was no point in trying to fight for something that wasn't there. you'd finally given up.
"please be out of here before 12. and please don't make things difficult." she nodded and went back to eating her breakfast as if nothing happened.
when you entered the kitchen hours later you were surprised to see the dishes neatly put away in the cabinets.
"good to know you still had the decency to clean up after yourself this time," you mumbled to yourself.
you were just about to leave and turn off the light when an off white envelope left on the table caught your eye.
'i'm sorry.' was written on the back of the envelope in natasha's cursive handwriting.
you knew better than to read it - and you knew better than to walk over to it, but you ignored your brain and followed your heart.
halfway through the letter you cursed yourself for not throwing the damn thing away. her apology was real, sincere - at least that's what it felt like anyway.
the thought of giving her another chance flashed through your mind, but you could never have what you had.
