Natasha Romanoff X Y/n - Blog Posts

Game night #3

Nat: pink " send a 'you up' text to the last person you hooked up with"

Wanda: oh this should be good

Nat: alright sent

Y/n: *phone dings* its just fury

Wanda: oh haha for a second I just thought, never mind

Nat: im going to make some drinks

Y/n: make mine a double

Wanda: im so existed for this mission

Sam: yeah lets get this show on the road you coming nataha?

Nat: alright im coming. Alright bye y/n

Y/n: goobye nat

Nat: and steve the only reason i want to hear from you is if somene is dying or dead

Steve: ok

Nat: alrigh have fun guys

Steve: alright want do you want to do first

Bucky: can we practise our self defence

Y/n: yes i think it would be very educational

Steve: for sure i could show you some moves. You guys wanna do that too?

Peter: okay

Clint: we always like a good fight

Tony: im putting five bucks on the Russians

Steve: ok you and me y/n im going to put my arm aroumd you like this ok?

Y/n: bucky now!

Steve: wait what?!

Bucky: peter get his feet!

Peter: ok!

*steve: passed out*

Y/n: whoops

Peter: is he breathing

Bucky: yes he's breathing

Y/n: i got his phone

Nat: *phone rings* steve someone better be or-

Y/n: steve is unconscious

Nat: wait what??

Own My Heart

Summary: It’s a simple arrangement; except you’re in love with Natasha. Will seeing you with someone else make her take the leap?

Natasha x Fem!Reader

A/N: So this is less fluffy, but I had to get the idea out of my head to write other stuff. It’s a bit short and rushed. Enjoy either way.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual themes without being very explicit.

“You were so good” the words are whispered against your ear and you whine. Natasha smirks. “You wanna keep being good for me?”

Ten minutes ago, you were giving a presentation in front of potential investors, C-suite members and some of Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha has reduced you to a blubbering mess with her touch.

Keep reading

Staring is Bad

Pairing: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Reader

Summary: you have a thing for your English Literature professor and it doesn’t help that she’s the kind of person to notice

Warning: cursing, flirting from Nat, mentioned porno title but thats it

A/N: … because yes? HAHAHAHA this is the flirting story I was talking about so I really hope you guys like this short one!! (Someone pls flirt with me so i know whats like ;;-;;)

“Y/N?” Your best friend asks as she waves her hand in front of your dazed face while the other students are starting to file in.

You sigh dreamily as you continue to stare at your English Lit prof from the farthest part of the huge lecture room. “She’s so pretty”

As a third year university student taking up Mechanical Engineering, you were given the chance to pick any elective of your choice. Your best friend is an English major so you both thought it would be fun to try and take a class together, resulting to your best friend choosing E104.

This class specifically is notoriously known for always having its slots full before 10 minutes are up so its an absolute miracle you both managed to get in. You remembering judging the class because why would a class have that much slots yet still get filled up, and well you immediately shut up the moment you entered the room to see Ms. Natasha Romanoff writing her name on perfect cursive on the blackboard.

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you as she sits besides you, taking out her notebook and pen for class. “I’m starting to regret this honestly”

“Come on” you tease as you look at her with your chin on the palm of your hand. “You love me, and it’s not my fault you’re in a relationship with a boy for 5 years and counting. Cut me some slack here”

“Keep it in your pants then because I want to pass this class without getting in trouble okay?” She chuckles softly as she pokes your cheek with the cap end of her pen. “Now focus, class is about to start”

You smirk back at your friend as Nat turns to face the lecture hall of 100 students with a smile. “Good afternoon everyone and welcome to English Lit”

She puts the chalk down onto the chalk ledge and grabs a book from her table as she walks to the front of her desk, leaning back slightly to half sit. “We will be discussing The Fall of Icarus, has anyone read the book before?”

Around 10-15 students raises their hands before Nat nods her head to signal the students to lower their hands. You start to zone out as you stare at Nat, appreciating how good she looks in a nice and crisp white button down, tucked into her black slacks that accentuates the length of her legs and shows off the black pumps. She’s wearing the kind of blazer that drapes over her shoulders with 2 slits, one on each arm, making it look like those cape-like blazers and it exerts professionalism but some kind of sexiness in return. Her red ruby lips moving as she continuous on with the lecture and her hair framing her face as if she’s the kindest and smartest person in the world.

You unconsciously sigh dreamily as you melt further into your seat, making your best friend roll her eyes fondly at you with a soft chuckle. Before she could nudge you to bring your focus back, it seems like Ms. Romanoff noticed as well.

“You there at the farthest row, the mechanical engineering major” she starts as her booming voice takes you back to earth, your eyes widening slightly as you straighten your posture and clearing your throat slightly. “What is your take on the symbolism of the story?”

You jump at Nat’s voice and quickly look at your best friend for help who slightly raises her hands, just barely off the table, surrendering. You sigh in defeat as you quickly glance at the blackboard to see the title of the book, silently thanking God that you know a little bit of something on this book thank you hamilton.

“Well for me” you start as you start fiddling with your pen. “When Icarus and his father made their escape out of Sicily with the warning of not flying too close to the sun due to the material used for the wings, you can possibly apply it in a relationship”

You lost your train of thought when your eyes meet your professor’s, suddenly realizing the shade of green it holds and the unexpected presence of emotions it has. Nat smiles before mouthing ‘go on’ the moment she noticed you stopped causing you to blush slightly.

You shake your head and continue on. “Anyway so in the case of Icarus, he’s shown to be the kind to have dreams and aspirations while his father would bring him back to earth where reality is. In a relationship, you can’t always have your head in the clouds and daydream so in a way, you can’t fall in love with the concept of love brought around by media or literature in this case, but fall in love with what you have on earth at that moment or else you’d fly too close to the sun”

A few moments of silence pass, your heart racing at the sudden anxiety of you fucking things over. As you’re about to quietly ask your best friend if you did mess up, your professor suddenly claps her hands with a smile on her face.

“You seem to be quite insightful with literature for a mechanical engineering major” she teases causing the class to laugh as you blush profusely.

“But, I appreciate that so thank you Ms…” she trails off as she raises an eyebrow for you to continue her sentence. You smile shyly as you introduce yourself by your full name.

“Right, Ms. Y/N” she starts as she puts the book down onto the table. “So as what Y/N has mentioned, Icarus’ character is the kind of character to fantasize, daydream even”

She continues on with the lecture as you finally let out a sigh of relief while your best friend besides you pats your thigh with a mischievous grin. “She totally noticed you staring at her”

You roll your eyes at her, nudging her by the shoulder as she gasps just loud enough before profusely saying her apologies as the students nearby stare at the both of you. You grin in victory before looking back at the lecture, placing your chin back onto the palm of your hand with your elbow resting onto your table as you stare at your absolutely gorgeous professor once again with a happy look.

“She’s so pretty”

A month into the semester and this is totally your favorite class. Things has been going really well considering you haven’t been caught ogling at your hot professor even though you’re probably very obvious at it.

She’s currently walking up and down the aisles of the lecture hall, her sleeves of her very professional looking blouse rolled up to her elbow making your heart race at how infatuated you are for her. Since the lecture will go on for a few more minutes, your restless self decided to start daydreaming. You would look out of the window, stare outside for a bit then look back at Nat but would catch her eyes for a few moments before looking away. You couldn’t help but tilt your head slightly, curious and even intrigued.

“I wonder if she can read minds of her students” you thought as a joke, a quirk on the corner of your lips thats a concealed smirk as you try to not laugh at how stupid it is.

“If you can hear my thoughts, say something” you thought in your mind jokingly. Surely Nat of all people wouldn’t… right?

Lo and behold, Nat suddenly walks up to your aisle as she calls for another student to do their recitation. She ends up standing by the empty seat besides you where your bag is currently sitting on, leaning over slightly so only you could hear what she has to say.

“Has your mother ever taught you that staring is bad?” She stands back up after a quick wink and acknowledges the answer of the student as she walks back down.

Your jaw just drops as your entire face pales at being caught, your best friend besides you trying her absolute hardest to not burst out laughing but still couldn’t contain her laughter causing her to shove her head into her arms so she muffle her laughs.

“No fucking way” you mumble to yourself as your best friend lifts her head off her desk, the biggest smirk present on her lips.

“She totally noticed” a smug grin forms on her lips after you playfully hit her arm while a blush forms on your cheeks.

“Alright class” Nat says as she stands by her desk while the other students start to pack up. “Don’t forget to turn in your essays about your chosen book next week. See you then! Oh and Ms. Y/N, please stay”

That made your friend burst out laughing as you quickly tackle her and mumble shut up frantically. You sigh in defeat as she bids you goodbye, leaving you and Nat alone. Dread starts to fill you entire being as you walk closer and closer to Nat, eventually standing by her desk as she bids farewell to the last student who stayed back for a question. The click of the door closing echos throughout the room, as if it was sealing the fate of whatever were to happen next.

“Ms. Y/N” Nat says, acknowledging you as she walks back, standing in front of you. You notice the heigh difference between the both of you where Nat absolutely towers you because of her monster heels. You swallow deeply as you start to fiddle with the end of your sweater.

“A-am I in trouble Ms. Romanoff?” You wince slightly at your stuttering, but also because this sounds like the start of a horrible porno. Nat leans against the edge of her table with a smirk on her lips.

“Do I make you nervous, Ms. Y/N?” She asks with a cocky tilt on the head making you narrow your eyes slightly at the older woman. Her smirks widen at that. “You’re not in trouble, but I’m sure you have a question for me based on the look you gave me earlier”

You blush furiously at that as you run a hand through your hair. “W-well yea, how did you know what I was thinking?”

Nat stands up and you can just smell the perfume she’s wearing, the coffee and caramel lingering in your personal space as you think ‘oh god this is the start of that weird porno, the Student gets fucked by her Professor kind’. She gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing your eyes to snap at her as she gets your attention.

“It’s written all over your face in every class, that’s why you should take this” she says as she hands you her sleek black business with her name and number on the front. “And call me, alright? You’re an adult, right darling?”

Your eyes widen as big as saucers at the nickname as a little squeak uncontrollably goes up your throat and out of your mouth. You quickly cover your mouth as you nod frantically.

She smirks at the power she has over you. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you against her as she tucks her hands into your back pockets. You feel your face heat up at the feeling of Nat’s hands indirectly against your bottom, the motion of Nat pulling you against her caused you to place your hands against her chest as you don’t go slamming against her. Nat leans down as she’s leaning into your ear, whispering softly and in almost in a seductive matter.

“I’ll see you in class, Ms. Y/N” she pulls back from you completely before you could do anything and you just feel your heart beat against your chest frantically as you stare back in a dazed look, wondering what the fuck just happened. However, you nod back before waving and grabbing your bag to leave.

As you leave, you suddenly noticed the weird feeling of something bunched up in your back pocket since you normally don’t put anything there. As you walk, you slip your hand in and feel a bunched up piece of paper. Taking it out, you open it and immediately stop your tracks as your eyes widen while reading the note.

“8 pm, my office. Don’t be late, darling”

Shame

Warnings: mommy kink, size kink, smut, swearing etc

Natasha loves the fact that you’re smaller than her, she absolutely revels in it but, of course, she’d never tell you that... The redhead has always been the smallest of the avengers so when you came around she would always tease you about your height (even though you were only a few inches shorter than her).

It was always “hey tiny” or “how’s the weather down there?” with Natasha. You assumed she taunted you about your height because she genuinely didn't like it. She probably thought it was childish to be a full grown adult and 5’2. And at first you didn’t say anything, not wanting to anger the intimidating woman, but after a while you two became quite close and you started to fire your own taunts, “well you would know considering we’re the same height, Tasha.”

Those words stunned the assassin; she didn’t expect the nickname so her cheeks flushed a deep red, which you picked up on. Not long after that, you started dating. Obviously, you confessed your feelings for the woman first- you knew if it was up to her, she would never come clean- and she returned those same feelings.

As the relationship progressed and you started to learn about her characteristics, you made the assumption that your girlfriend had a somewhat kinky side. With the way she carried herself around the others, she definitely had a dominant personality in the bedroom...which you was most certainly correct about!

You had discovered a whole different side to Tasha that only you knew about. You felt privilege and yet confused; you felt as if there was a whole new depth to her character you haven’t seen until now...

Here you were, ankles and wrists wrapped in red silk attached to each bedposts. If it wasn’t clear, Nat liked you tied down; completely and utterly helpless to her touch.

Lewd noises of the redhead’s strap thrusting into you at an inhuman pace-accompanied with your whorish moans- filled the almost silent room. Tasha’s sex playlist playing from the sound system with her red led lights on display. The occasional grunt from the woman above you joined in whenever her clit brushed at the right angle against the strap.

“Fuck, baby. Your tight pussy is gonna make me cum. Such a sweet pussy. All for me.” Natasha loved sex talk; always reminding you about how good you look, feel and taste. She was always calling you cute little nicknames as she brings you to climax, and even when she allowed you to return the favour.

On the other hand, she adored degrading you. She adored making you cry at her venomous words as she fucked you stupid. But, she only reserved those titles for when you were a bad girl and needed to be punished...

“Oh. Shit, Tasha. I-I’m gonna cum.” Your first orgasm almost washes over you; however, she had different ideas and pulled out before you could slip. Snaking a hand around your throat she applies little pressure, letting you know she was pissed.

“What did you call me?!” She seethes through her teeth. Sheer fury with a tinge of lust swirling in her eyes as she pins you beneath her weight like a predator with its prey.

You don’t know what you did wrong.

You always moaned her name as you came.

You thought that was what she liked...

Countless thoughts raced through your mind about what you had allegedly done wrong and Natasha had seen, so she relieved you of your mounting stress.

“When we’re in here doing this...” She harshly snaps her hips, driving the head of the toy up against your sensitive walls. You throw your head back in euphoria, unintentionally letting a carnal growl escape from within.

“It’s mommy, little one.”

Mommy...that’s new. You whisper to no one, anxious she might overhear you. Fear brews in the pit of your stomach, but excitement overpowers it, and a wide grin forms on your face. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

“I’m sorry... mommy.”

Your girlfriend groans audibly at the way you whine her new name. She couldn't stop herself from thrusting back into you, slowly at first but gradually picking up the pace. She couldn’t rip her eyes from you; the way your tits bounced in time to her thrusts, your gaping mouth as threads of incoherent words and moans tumbled, your shuddering muscles that rippled beneath her finger pads.

The hand pinning your thighs apart moves to grip your jaw. She pushes her thumb in your mouth, waiting to see how you react. But you know what she wants. So you suck the digit, swirling your pink tongue around it, lathering it with your saliva as a light “hmm” vibrates against the pad. Natasha’s light green irises turn into a dark emerald shade, raging lust even more evident.

“Open.”

She spits in your mouth, no need to instruct you what to do next since you've already swallowed, your eyes rolled far back in your head.

“Look at your pretty little pussy. So pink and fluffy...hmm, take me so good, baby.”

“Only for y-you, mommy.” You whine out with her thumb still deep in your mouth, on the brink impending orgasm. Unfortunately, Natty pulls her entire body away from you once again and this time you can’t help but let out a loud whine of frustration.

“Hey! Don’t start that shit with me, little girl.” Your head jerked to the side, and your cheek burned from the connection of Tasha's palm, as well as the fresh tears - mixed with your running mascara - streaming from your eyelids. Her poisonous words stinged even more so than the slap. It seems as if you’ve discovered another one of her kinks...

“For that, you’re gonna ride my cock...like a good, little slut.” She trails her fingers over your reddened cheek before releasing you from her silky restraints and situating herself against the pillows, so she can yank you onto her lap.

Still stunned from the slap, you failed to notice her aligning your core with the strap until she pushed you down, stretching your tight walls once again. You cry out - the loudest you had done this whole night- which spurs on the redhead to rock your hips agonisingly slow.

“Oh no, pretty girl...you’re so tight. You’re too little for me, huh? So small and precious... let mommy help you.” She moves to rub fast circles on your swollen clit. Involuntarily, you rut up to meet Tasha’s fingers, wedging the strap even deeper.

Ahh so she does like my size...she likes it a lot more than she lets on. You wonder to yourself. You wouldn’t dare say your thoughts aloud unless you wanted the assassin to spank your ass black and blue, and still not let you cum. The addicting pleasure of her cock inside you, her digits circling harder on your bundle of nerves and her powerful hips rolling into yours knock you out of your deep trance.

“That’s it, printessa. So beautiful. Riding me like this. So eager...fuck, I could cum just by watching you.” Her praises spur you on and you start to bounce, holding her shoulders for support, suddenly desperate to make yourself and mommy cum. Her eyes remained glued to your marked breasts, shoved in her face as they move rhythmically. She removes her fingers from your bundle of nerves and brings the drenched digits to her lips, checks hallowing as she sucks them feverishly.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” She moans gently at the taste of you. Peering up at you,she silently commands you to keep your eyes trained on hers. No matter though because if she kept looking at you like that, you weren’t gonna last long...

“Mommy, ’m gonna cum.” Your bounces become more out of rhythm with her thrusts: tits grazing against her face, moans and whimpers echo the bedroom walls and your pussy gushes around her thick cock.

“Beg me.”

“Please, mommy...oh, let me cum for you. I’ll do anything please, can I cum? I’ll be good, promise, please please...” You weep out, praying she’ll have mercy on your soul and finally let you finish. She remains silent for a few moments, compelling you to hold on a little longer before she decides. She grabs your hips instantly, forcing you to bottom out as she fucks up into you harder than ever.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy.” She pants out- a little tired from her rapid thrusts- and you immediately clamp on her, back painfully arching, making it difficult for her to continue her ministrations.

You can hardly even moan since you're struggling to breathe, and yet she pulls you down to kiss you as if she's stealing whatever little air you have. Pulling slightly back, you attempt to take some deep breaths before letting out a string of promiscuous wails as she soothes your convulsing body.

“You’re all good,baby. That’s it, good girl.”

She coos as you finally crash, collapsing forward into Tasha’s chest, hissing at the strap moving still deep inside. She tilts your heavy head up, forcing you to look into her eyes. The flicker of green descends from your eyes to your lips which lets you know that she wants you to kiss her. Tiredly, you lean forward, pressing your lips against hers. You don't slip a tongue. You merely push your lips against hers.

She doesn’t like that and roughly spanks your ass twice, your body jolting forward in painful surprise. If you were going to kiss Tasha, you had to kiss her properly...

To be honest, you loved this rough side of Natasha. During the early stages of the relationship, she was timid and entirely selfless. Not sure how far she should go or if you loved her as much as she loved you. But she was ravenous now, using your body for her pleasure- and yours.

You lean forward again, this time parting your lips allowing the redhead to slip her tongue into your mouth. Her hands- still on your ass- massage the red globes. She drives her tongue deep; as assertive as she wishes because you belong to her. Only her. Releasing your muffled moans into her mouth allowing her to swallow them whole, your palms cup her breasts as you gently pull them towards you and then back to her; playing with them as a sort of comfort instead of pleasing her.

The kiss becomes more sloppy, more messy as both of your saliva moistens the kiss and dribbles out the side of your mouth. At one point, your tongue slips from hers and splashes against her cheek but she’s too engrossed in the make out session to care; your enamouring whimpers depriving her of her senses.

Her hands at your ass- squeeze it softly- beginning to make you rock against her; completely forgetting about her cock still inside you. You shriek at the stinging ache and Nat silences you with another long kiss before slowly lifting you off her, and tossing the toy somewhere for her to clean later.

“Sorry, honey. I forgot.”

Her hand brushes the sweat-drenched hair away from your forehead and she leans over your frail form, pressed delicately against the sheets, to grab you the bottle of water she got beforehand.

“Here, drink this before you go to sleep please.”

You gulp down the water as if you had been neglected of the clear liquid for a long period of time. Small drops end up dribbling from the corner of your lips and down your chin. Nat notices, leaning down to lick away the residue, a subtle whimper escapes your throat and you suddenly remember she never came.

“But, y-you didn’t finish, Tash.” You pant, voice still hoarse from your cries of ecstasy.

“It’s okay, baby. Today was all about you anyways.”

Still selfless, I see. You wanted to reply but you were too exhausted to open your mouth. Your fatigue suddenly washing over you as your eyelids droop, too heavy to keep open.

“Go to sleep, kotenok. Promise I’ll be here when you wake. I love you.” She kisses you once on the cheek, then twice on the forehead ...your favourite types of kisses. Bathing in her radiating warmth, you shuffle fowards, limbs locking around her waist, your naked flesh flushed against each other.

“Thank you. Love you too, mommy.”

As expected, Tasha was peering down at your dishevelled form the next morning: hair thrown everywhere and puffy eyelids. To her, you looked beautiful.

“Good morni-”

“So mommy, huh?”

The Russian was taken aback by your unexpected question. Of course, she forgot about how she made you call her mommy the previous night. She didn't even bother asking if you were okay with it. She simply told you, and that was the end of it. When your words finally register in her brain, a dark red blush - almost the same color as her tresses - appears on her chiselled cheeks.

“Don’t kink shame me!” She leaps on top of you, blowing wet raspberries onto your exposed stomach. Your contagious giggles ring sweetly in her ears, and your limbs flail incessantly, attempting to push the much stronger woman away. Once she finally lets go, she returns her attention to your face, only to find you grinning up at her with pure adoration in your eyes.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that... mommy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: i keep getting carried away with these but here’s this. i worked on this like all day so hopefully y’all like it <3

Taglist: @teenwonder @wandasugarbby (bc i used one of those prompts you talked abt but it’s nat sorry sjshsjd)

Don't Forget Me

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You wake up with no memory.

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: So i did a little thing and wrote my first fic, It’s based off a a memory loss concept I saw in a show once and it never left my mind. i think it’s such a great story telling device. Tumblr can be so inspiring and the writers that I follow inspire me all the time so i’ll be tagging them at the end of this to show my appreciation of their words Please go and follow them and read their work. They may just inspire you too! Enjoy reading! Any feed back is welcome.

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It’s the coppery scent of fresh blood that alerts all of your senses into overdrive. You immediately raise yourself from small cot you're lying in. You frantically look around to gain some understanding of your surroundings but you don’t make sense of what you see. Dozens of men and women and even a few children surround you. Some are sleeping in cots like your own, others are talking quietly to either themselves or others. Your enhanced senses zone in on mutterings of no sense conversations (which you notice are being spoken in German), the smell of sweat and blood that lingers beneath your nose.

You wipe at it and assume correct. Dried blood rubs off on your fingers and you can feel a deep ache begin to appear at the base of your skull. You have no memory of how you ended up with a bloody nose or how you even got to where you are. The last thing you remember was seeing Natasha and Clint, back to back, fighting off Hydra soldiers on a battlefield in Bulgaria through a window of the warehouse where you were supposed to collect intel about other Hydra facilities around the world. All you remember after that was a bright flash in your eyes and everything went black.

No one seems to take notice of your panicked state but it doesn't quell your fear of your unknown location and loss of memory at how you got here. You notice a sign on the wall and frown. “Die Heilsarmee – William-Booth-Haus, Übergangshaus (The Salvation Army - William Booth House, Transitional House.” A homeless shelter.

You make your way towards a woman that’s holding a clipboard and looks to be taking the names of people coming and going. You greet her in German.

“Hallo” you greet, as kindly as you can. .This woman may have answers. You can’t scare her off with your impatience.

“Hallo. You’re awake” she greets back, giving you a small smile.

“You know me?” you ask, becoming more confused by the second.

“Ja. You came in late last night and I've been keeping an eye on you.”

“Was I alone?”

“Nein. A man dropped you off at the front stairs and instructed that i let you stay here until you woke up. That was,” she checks her watch “seventeen hours ago.”

Seventeen hours ago? How is that possible? You barely a slept more than six hours at the compound and even less when Natasha was next to you. Her own nightmares plagued her more than yours ever did, so when she was next to you'd just pull her against your chest and rub her back to allow her some peaceful hours of sleep. You didn't care if you didn't sleep at all. As long as she was okay.

Natasha. You need to contact her. She’s probably worried sick and when she finds you, you're in for one long ass lecture. That’s if Steve doesn't beat her to it. Wanda will probably beat them both to it though. Your best friend always loved to tease that she’s the better Avenger. You'd always fight her on it, but you knew she was right. After the crimes you committed while under the command of Strucker, ones that made Wanda’s and Pietro’s look like minor inconveniences, you’d say that you deserved the ‘worst Avenger award’. Allowing illegal human experiment to continue after you came out unscathed from the experiments, with a new set of super human abilities similar to Steve and Bucky, you knew you deserved that title.

Being with Natasha however, she never allowed you to believe that. Even if it was a joke with Wanda, she knew that you believed it deep down, so she would always remind you that it wasn't true. When you, Wanda and Pietro defected to S.H.I.E.L.D during the age of Ultron, Wanda and Pietro had each other and as much as you loved them as your best friends, it was Natasha who you found any form of comfort and reassurance from. Because she herself, understood why the demons inside your head didn't just live in the shadows of your nightmares. They lived in any reflection you caught yourself in. She understood that better than anyone, therefore, she understood you. You’ve loved each other ever since.

A hand waving in front of your face brings back to the moment and the woman speaks again.

“Are you okay?” she asks, delicately.

“Yeah I'm fine. Is there a phone around that I can use?”

“Not here. But if you make your way out these doors, along the alley way and out onto the main street, there is plenty around for you to use. Here.” She holds out her closed fist and deposits ten one Euro coins into your palm. You smile when you look back up to her.

“Thankyou” you say, in the most appreciative tone you can muster. She smiles back at you and walks further into the building while you walk out the doors the woman pointed out. Following along the dark alleyway, you can hear what you think is the sound of busy streets and traffic and walk further towards the sound. You stop for a moment and take notice of more homeless people in the alley. Some lingering around garbage cans that are lit on fire for warmth and others sleeping in cardboard boxes. Looking down at yourself, you realise that you’re somehow without shoes, You take the best pair you can find from a man passed out. Also taking his jacket and a baseball cap and leaving him with his blanket, you try to cover yourself as best as you can. You don’t want to be recognised by anyone as an Avenger.

You suddenly find yourself thrown amongst sea of shoppers and pedestrians alike. Bright lights of shops, houses, hotels and restaurants almost blind you and it takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust. Focusing your vision, your eyes flicker to a white street sign with black writing. It confirms your suspicions.

Kurfürstendamm. You’re in Berlin. You’ve been here a couple of time for missions. Both with Natasha, After the first mission you both visited Café Kranzler and had the most delicious tasting coffee you've ever had in your life. That was your first date. After the second, you took her to the small Monbijoupark near Museum Island and told her you loved her. She kissed you so hard that she split your lip.

Dipping your hat and bringing the collar of your jacket upwards, you start walking down the avenue and find a payphone on the corner. Taking the coins the woman gave you, you push one into the slot and call Natasha’s personal phone that only you know the number to. Your brow furrows when you hear that it’s disconnected. You try her office phone. Also disconnected.

“What the fuck is going on?” you mutter to yourself. You try every other number you can think of. Every Avenger and their private phone. Some are disconnected and some are left unanswered. With two options and two coins left, you try the first. You and the twins would leave a message for one another if any one you were ever compromised while working for Hydra and leave a coded message on an answering machine so the others could find you. It was probably the only smart thing Strucker ever taught you. It’s also disconnected

“Fuck!” you yell into the receiver and slam your fist into the wall. It crumbles beneath your fingers but you quickly pull it back and into your jacket pocket to try to avoid further attention. With your last option, last nerve and last chance, you push your last coin into the slot and dial a number that you haven’t called in ten years.

A woman’s voice answers after three rings.

“Dispatch.” You sigh in relief.

“This is Agent Y/L/N, agent number 49912517.” You breathed out the number as easily as your own name. Maria assigned it to you your very first day at S.H.I.E.L.D academy and you could never forget it. “Calling for extraction. Code word: Nelson.”

“Connecting.”

The line rings once.

“This is Fury.”

“I just woke up in Berlin. i don’t know how I got here or how long I’ve been here.” you say shakily, trying to keep your voice as normal as possible.

Fury says nothing. You think maybe he’s hung up.

“Hello?”

“Get to the Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf safe house as soon as possible. Do you remember where it is?”

“Yeah, of course” you answer in confusion. Fury had sent you and Natasha to set up the safe house when a Hydra commander wanted to defect to S.H.I.E.L.D four years ago. He should know that you remember it because the two of you and the Hydra commander spent a whole month trapped inside because of the strong Hydra presence in Berlin. You couldn't leave and risk being seen or the defecting agent being killed on sight so you had to wait it out until it was safe to be extracted. Fury essentially lost his two best agents at the time.

By the time you bring yourself out of your memories, you realise that Fury has disconnected the call and you make your way to the safe as fast as possible.

Arriving at a dingy two storey pub, a few blocks away, you walk inside to find the pub empty, except for one person. A man you don’t recognise, sits on a stool reading a newspaper. He pays you no attention and continues reading as you walk up to him and speak.

“Nothing can cure the soul but the senses” you begin the code phrase in German, that will allow you entry to the safe house.

“Just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.” the man says still not looking at you, ending the phrase and pointing to staircase at the end of the bar, “I will inform your superiors of your arrival.”

You acknowledge the man with a nod and hastily make your way up the stairs and into the room. You lay down on a bed in the corner of the room and close your eyes and go over everything that’s happened in the last couple of hours. You woke in a homeless shelter after sleeping for seventeen hours, in Berlin after being dropped off by an unknown man, with no recollection of how you even got to Berlin in the first place. No one is answering your calls. Not even Natasha, the love of your life. You hope she's okay. You need her to be okay. If you lost her, you don’t think you could survive,

As if on cue, the door opens and Natasha walks through door, keeping her eyes on the ground. It takes you almost ten seconds to actually realise its her. Her hair is longer than you remember, falling past her shoulders. She's not even wearing her mission suit. She wearing what she always called ‘civilian clothes’. A denim jacket, white shirt and black jeans. She’s even wearing sneakers. Natasha doesn't wear sneakers. She doesn't look up from her attention on the ground. But you don’t care in this moment because she is the most beautiful thing you ever seen. You scramble to your feet as fast as possible and throw yourself into the arms of your girlfriend and latch on as tightly as possible, without hurting her, which she reciprocates. Your enhanced senses are overwhelmed with everything that she brings into the room. Her lavender shampoo. cherry blossom perfume. You can even smell her strawberry chapstick. But what overwhelms you the most, is the thunderous beating of her heart.

“What the hell is going on, baby?” you ask quickly, wanting an answer right away. Natasha feels your breath against her neck and shudders at its contact. It’s been so long for her. “I woke up in a goddamn homeless shelter and I have no idea how I got there. The last thing I remember is seeing you and Clint fighting off some Hydra assholes when we were in Bulgaria and then I woke not knowing what the hell was is going on.” You pull away from her wanting to see her face but she still doesn't look at you. You cup her face and bring it up to meet your eyes. Her green eyes, which were always your favourite shade, are now red and bloodshot. She's been crying. Hard. You can tell that she's trying to keep more tears at bay. She takes your hands from her cheeks and lowers them between you. You frown at her actions and she notices but she motions towards the bed.

“Sit down. Please” she says, raspier than usual and you knows it because of the crying. You’ve never seen her like this. She scared but you follow her directions and take a seat. She grabs a chair from across the room and sits opposite you.

“Nat, what is going on? Why are you so upset?” Your tone is almost pleading. Natasha looks up form her knees and looks you in the eye and takes a deep breath.

“That day in Bulgaria, you were supposed to retrieve intel inside the warehouse about more Hydra locations around the world.” You nod, but stay silent. Tears start to stream down her face. “Clint and I. We were keeping the soldiers at bay to give you enough time to grab the intel and get out but-“ A sob escapes her lips before she can finish her sentence. All you want to do is pick her up and hold her tight but you refrain because a sick sense of dread begins to form in your stomach. Whatever Nat has to say, you're not going to like. “The warehouse exploded.” You frown again for what seems like the millionth time today, Even with your superhuman strength and durability, your forehead is starting to hurt. But with the next words that slip out of Natasha’s your frown instantly vanishes. “You were in the building.”

You shake your head in disbelief. That’s not possible.

“We thought you were dead. I thought you were dead.” Nat whispers, as more tears stream down her cheeks. You keep your eyes on her, too afraid to even blink. Too afraid to move a muscle. You can’t even react to her words. The dread in your stomach makes itself a home there and you know it’s not going away any time soon.

What’s she's saying has to be a joke right? This can’t be happening. “Fury asked me to come and talk to you. Even though I'm no longer with the Avengers or even S.H.I.E.L.D, he thought it was safer it you saw someone familiar first.” Safer? You would never.

“I would never hurt you” you whisper and Nat almost misses it, but you know she heard. She may no longer be a superhero but she’ll always your spider. Nat begins to wipe at her face and nods in agreement as what you've said, when you notice it. A gold band sits on her left ring finger. Instantly, the frowns returns because you sure as hell didn't give it to her. The one you have for her sits in Wanda’s draw at the compound. You were planning on giving it to her on your anniversary, which would've been a few days after you returned form Bulgaria.

“What is that?” you ask, afraid of the answer. Your eyes don’t leave the ring. She notices what you're talking about but ignores the questions and looks at her knees.

“Y/N, ever since that day in Bulgaria, you were dead. You died in that explosion.” she says, looking up at you once again. Her eyes pierce your and it almost hurts to look at her but you can sense that she has one more thing to say as she chokes back a sob. “You’ve been dead for nearly three years.”

That's when you allow one single tear to fall.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading to anyone who made it this far. I know it finished on a cliffhanger so it could possibly be a multi chaptered story, depending on how its received. I already have the entire story planned out.

@therunawaykind @8bitscarlet @wolferine @lil-gamer @httpjupiterbby @traveler-at-heart @5-puthyyy @rebeliz777 @wellsayhelloaagin @maximoffsdetka @maximotts @vancityfire13 and i couldn't forget my reading buddy @holiday-house-of-m

Thanks for inspiring me you guys!

- Wolves

Angsty fic w nat? When we were young by adele is the plot tho 😏

when we were young

a/n: this is the first time i've written angst with no happy ending so enjoy😭

warnings: angst (no happy ending)

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

summary: after a year of be ignored and shut out, the reader decides its time to leave nat, no matter how much it hurts

translations: detka=baby

words: 1.2k | natasha x reader masterlist | navigation post

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated and welcomed <3

You woke up to an empty bed, again. You weren’t surprised, you had woken up to an empty bed every day for the past year. Nat was too busy working, hoping, searching for a solution, a way to bring everybody back. After the blip occurred, Nat turned cold, towards everyone. The redhead stays at her desk day and night, she barely paid you any attention. You had told her time and time again that she couldn't fix every problem on the face of the Earth. She refused to listen.

It hurt seeing Nat turn into a shell of her former self and you often found yourself reminiscing on old memories. You two used to go on adventures, you wanted to show her all your favorite places. You took her to amusement parks, beaches, and to your favorite parks. You used to have movie nights at least once a week, you showed her all your favorites and she showed you hers.

You missed her. You missed her raspy morning voice saying she loved you, how she would gently rub circles on your back when you were feeling overwhelmed, how she would throw her head back laughing at all your jokes.

But that Natasha was long gone. That Natasha was replaced by one who never said more than three words to you, one who never leaves the compound, one that no longer laughed at anything.

“Natasha,” you said more sternly than usual. The redhead didn’t even acknowledge you, she just kept typing. “Natasha!” You yelled this time. The redhead looked up at you with zero expression in her eyes. “You know it’s not your fault right? The blip. It’s not your fault.” You said for the millionth time this year. The redhead just sighed and went back to typing on her computer.

For the past year, you had been giving her space, reassurance, anything she could possibly need. But she just didn’t seem to care. You loved her so much, more than anything or anyone, but staying here with her was destroying you.

With tears in your eyes, you stormed out of the room and retreated back into your bedroom, you didn’t think you could even call it you and Nat’s bedroom anymore.

You looked around the room, the one filled with pictures. Ones from all your adventures. Ones from when you two were both younger when the world wasn’t in chaos.

You missed the simple days, the ones before aliens invaded New York. The ones before killer robots made a city fly. You missed just being able to hang out with Nat when you two could do what you wanted when you wanted to.

When you were younger things were easier, but now, nothing was easy.

-

Months passed and nothing changed. Nat just sat and stared at her computer, getting more and more distant every day. You were lucky if she spoke to you once a week nowadays. You yearned for her, all you wanted was to feel her touch again or to hear her beautiful voice.

You knew the good days were over. You knew Nat would never move on from this, not unless she miraculously found a way to reverse the blip.

You wished you could live in the photos in your bedroom. The photos of you and Nat laughing so hard that you could barely breathe. The ones where you two-starred lovingly into each others eyes. But you couldn’t, as much as you wished you could, you couldn’t live in photographs.

For months now you had entertained the thought of leaving the compound, of leaving Natasha. Every time you thought about it, the guilt of leaving Nat ate you alive. You couldn’t leave her, not when she was like this.

But you also couldn’t stay, not anymore. Staying was killing you. Loving her when she showed no sign that she loved you was destroying you. So as much as it hurt, you knew you had to leave.

You packed your things from around the compound without Nat even noticing. She was too busy working to notice you were taking all your things. You could have just walked out the front door without her noticing if you wanted to. But you thought you at least owed her a goodbye and you hoped she would give you some closure.

“Natasha,” you said in an attempt to grab her attention. She didn’t even look up, “Natasha I’m leaving.” No response. “Natasha I’m leaving and I’m not coming back this time.” The redhead immediately looked up at you, “What?”

“I can’t sit here and be a ghost in my own house anymore Natasha.” The redhead stared at you puzzled, “I don’t-”

“You have been ignoring my existence for over a year now! You don’t talk to me, you don’t come to bed, you don’t ever leave that damn computer!” You yelled, trying to hold back tears, you couldn’t let her see you cry, not now. “Y/N I’m sorry I just-”

“Look I know you have a lot going on right now and I know you have a lot on your plate, but you don’t make time for me anymore and it’s exhausting loving someone who clearly doesn’t care about you,” the tears started flowing down your face, over a year of emotions exploding out.

“I do love you, I love you so much, Y/N you hold me together,” Natasha said as tears formed in her eyes. “See, saying that you love me and showing me you love me are two different things.”

Natasha let out a sob, she didn’t want to be left alone. “Please don’t go, I’ll be better, I promise.”

“I can’t stay anymore, I want to believe you, but I’m tired Nat,” you said through your sobs. You advanced toward the door and for the first time in a long long while Natasha got up from her desk and ran toward you. The redhead hugged you from behind, “I can’t do this without you.”

“Natasha, please,” you cried as you melted into her touch. God, you missed her hugs. “I miss the way things were when we were younger, what happened to the adventures, the laughs, the spontaneous dates,” you spilled out, her hugs always made you open up.

“I miss that too,” Nat sobbed out, almost collapsing to the floor.

The two of you stood in silence, Natasha still gripping onto you tightly. You both stood and appreciated what was what you both knew was the last time you would ever touch one another.

“Nat I need to go,” you said in a barely audible whisper. “I know,” Nat said, equally as quiet. The redhead slowly released her grip on you.

You opened the door and took a deep breath, “Goodbye Natasha.” You closed the door before you could hear her say anything in response. Immediately, you fell to the ground sobbing, Natasha was your soulmate, your other half. Leaving her hurt you more than any wound you have ever had.

You thought one day you two would get married, settle down, get some of the life Steve was always telling you to get. But that wasn’t you and Nat’s story, not in this lifetime at least.

Maybe in another lifetime Nat.

Summary: Facing the threat of deportation to her home country Russia, book editor Natasha Romanoff comes to an agreement with her assistant to get married. With that, comes a visit to the assistants hometown and meeting all of her family. Can they fool everyone that they’re in love? Will they have to pretend for the rest of their lives?

Tags: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff Fic, Natasha Romanoff Fanfic, Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow Fic, Movie Fic, The Proposal (2009), Reader has Daddy Issues, Natasha is Readers Boss, Fake Marriage, Fake Dating, Meeting Family,

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Marriage?, Daddy Issues, Boss x Assistant,

Word Count: 3.4K

Taglist: @timmyslover (please ask to join through asks or message me!) Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series :)

A/N: this fic is based on the 2009 movie The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds. some of the events have been changed to fit Natasha and to make it easier for me lol. please please leave comments or come scream at me about it :)) i’m actually estatic about this fic istg. also i’m seeing spider-man for the first time today wish me luck. just got my booster shot so i’ll exercise my arm while wiping tears

The Proposal Chapter One

Working for Natasha Romanoff is hard on a normal day. On a day like today, it’s absolute hell. You woke up later because the power in the building went out sometime in the night. Which leaves you where you are now, rushing around your apartment, looking for anything you can put on. There’s one clean dress shirt hanging in the closet, and you find the slacks you wore yesterday on the floor. They look clean enough, so you put them on, hopping around on one foot frantically while putting on one shoe.

You practically run to the Starbucks that’s close to where you work. Kate, the barista, already has your drinks made.

“You’re a lifesaver, Kate.”

“Don’t forget it,” she calls back with a smile.

You go as fast as you think you can with hot coffee, yelling apologies behind you at the people you bump into.

The elevator doors shut behind you just as you make it into them.

“Just in time,” you say to yourself, casting glances and awkward smiles at the people next to you. As soon as you hear the ding for your floor, you get again start hauling ass to Natasha’s office. Unfortunately, because that’s how today is going to be apparently, you crash into someone, spilling coffee down the front of your shirt.

A string of curses falls from your lips as you help the man up. Your shirt has dark stains all down the front. You’re pretty sure it’s not something Natasha will accept in her office.

You walk down the row of desk and stop in from of the first person you see that’s wearing something you can match with and not look like you picked a random shirt.

“I’ll give you company seats to the New York Avengers if you give me your shirt. You have five seconds to agree.” You start counting, and they run to the bathroom to change. You follow, thanking them profoundly along the way.

You rush to Natasha’s office, getting there right before she does. When Natasha walks in, you’re waiting by her desk, coffee in hand. She curtly thanks you and sits down at her desk, going through her paperwork.

She’s wearing a dark blue dress with a matching belt. Her hair is pinned back in the illusion of a simple bun, but you know how long she probably spent doing it. You’ve never seen her hair down. You know better than to ask.

“Your immigration lawyer called,” you say quickly, wanting to get this part of the day out of the way and go back to your desk.

“Cancel the appointment. And add open up my schedule on that weekend in September we talked about. Fury has decided to do Oprah.”

“Fury decided or you worked your persuasive magic on him and made the decision for him?”

“They’re the same thing,” she dismisses.

“Right. You have a conference call with Steve Rogers in 37 minutes and a staff meeting at 9:00. Also, someone called about the winter release for-“

“Tell then it is what it is and that if they think I can change time they should pay me more.”

“I’ll tell them politely no.”

“Waste of time,” she mutters. You’re about to leave when you remember that you have one more think to ask about.

“Did you have the chance to read the manuscript I sent you?” you ask, standing on the opposite side of Natasha’s desk.

“I started it, but I lost interest fairly quickly. Nothing really impressive about it.”

You start to exit the room and relax a little bit at your desk, but Natasha calls you back.

“Wait. Who is Kate and why does she want me to call her?”

You turn around slowly, meeting Natasha’s uninterested gaze. “That was mine. Yours spilled.”

“You drink a lavender latte with almond milk and foam?”

“Yes,” you say convincingly. “It tastes like summertime in my mouth,” you end lamely, your statement sounding much more like a question.

“Hm. It’s strange, because that’s my exact drink order. You wouldn’t possibly be ordering my drink for yourself in case you spill one of them because you’re scared shitless of what would happen. No, that would make you very much pathetic.”

That’s actually exactly what you do. She knows it. You know it. You should admit it. But what comes out of your mouth instead is: “Of course not. I just really like lavender coffee.”

“Mhm. The phones are ringing. Go do your job and answer it.”

“You got it.”

Again, before you leave she calls out to you. “Oh, one more thing. There’s a book fair this weekend that I need you to go to with me.”

“This weekend?” you ask.

“Yep,” she says, popping the p loudly. “Is that a problem?” Yes.

“No.”

You spend a while at your desk, taking calls and filing through the manuscripts that Natasha thinks are worth her time. You make sure to check the simple things like format and grammar, outlining them in red pen so she doesn’t have to do it.

Being an editor has always been your dream job. Growing up, books had been your form of escape from the overwhelming weight of your family. They led you through good times and bad, and gave you something to look forward to during the worst. Being Natasha’s assistant gives you an amazing opportunity to be just that, if you can make it.

You’re interrupted from a thrilling story when the phone rings.

“Ms. Romanoff’s office, how can I help you?“

“There’s my baby,” a familiar voice says.”

“Hi, Mom. I’m at work, is everything okay?”

“You sound stressed? Is that devil woman working you too hard again?” she frets. You can hear her frown.

“When is she not? Look, mom, I needed to talk to you anyway. I can’t come to Grammy’s birthday this weekend.”

“What?” You have to hold the phone away from your ear, wincing at the sudden volume of her voice. “You already bought tickets. You promised you would be here.”

“Yeah, well plans changed. It was nothing I could control.”

“Put your boss on the phone. I have a few choice words for her.”

“If only I could”- you look up to see Natasha walking over to your desk-“offer you a better deal, but unfortunately our prices are set. Goodbye.” You hang up the phone and turn to Natasha.

“Was that your mom?” she asks, walking down the aisle.

“Yep.”

“Did she want to kill me like usual?”

“Yep. She’s mad you’re making me miss Gammy’s 90th birthday.”

“Good. Consistency is key.” She stops at the door marked for D. Dreykov, knocking and pushing the glass door open.

“Ms. Romanoff, it’s good to see you,” acknowledges Dreykov, putting down his drink. With a vague sense of puzzlement you notice that it’s whiskey.

“It’s fucking eight thirty in the morning,” you murmer, low enough so Dreykov doesn’t hear. You’re pretty sure Natasha does, but she hides her smile by turning away. Even if she wasn’t, you’re going to pretend she does just to annoy her.

“You as well. How are you?” she ventures, looking pointedly at his glass.

“The same. You?“

“I can’t complain,” says Natasha, turning to a huge wooden armoire in the corner of the room.

“Is it new?” she inquires, tracing it with her fingers.

“It’s an eighteenth century piece,” he brags. “But to my office, yes it is new. You can't come here to talk about furniture, Ms. Romanoff. How can I help you?” You brace for what comes next. Knowing Dreykov, this isn’t going to go well.

“You’re fired,” Natasha says bluntly, no look of sympathy on her face. It’s a face you never hope to see looking at you.

“You better be joking,” laughs Dreykov.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re overreacting. You got Fury to do the show anyway.”

“Am I? You have two months to find yourself a new job. Everyone will be told that you resigned.” With that, Natasha walks out, you right behind her.

“What’s the update? How’s he looking?” she asks, questioning you about Dreykov’s reaction. You look back and see Dreykov pacing around the room.

“Fuming. Trying to decide if he’s going to come over here.”

“Shit. Don’t do it, Dreykov. It’s the wrong move.”

“He’s doing it.”

“Damn it.” Natasha turns around to see Dreykov coming towards her.

“You bitch,” he seethes. “You fired me because you thought I was better than you! You’re threatened by me, so you took me out. This has nothing to do with the Fury interview.” His voice raises volume, attracting interested stares from the people in the office. The same people who are quick to look away whenever Natasha starts speaking.

Calmly, she explains. “You’re right. I didn’t fire you because of Fury. That would be pointless and putting my own neck on the line. I fired you because, not only are you lazy and an asshole, you treat everyone in this office, including me, your boss, like they owe you something just for being in your presence. You show up late, drink all day, and turn in shitty work. And, frankly, I just don’t like you. So there you go. That’s why you got fired. If I hear another word I’m going to have my assistant over there call security to escort you out. Looks like you won’t be resigning after all.”

He starts to speak, but Natasha cus him off. “Not another word.” Her eyebrows raise, almost challenging him to speak again. He doesn’t. Instead, he storms off to his room like a child.

“Upstairs called my office directly. I’ll have to go up there in”-Natasha checks her watch-“five minutes. After ten in the room, I want you to make up an excuse and come get me. We have to much to do.”

“Sure thing.” Natasha heads the opposite direction while you go back to your desk. The office relaxes significantly as she leaves, people starting to talk about what just happened. You almost hear a sigh of relief sweep across the office when she’s gone.

You wait ten minutes, answering one call and sitting there the rest of the time. Then, you take the elevator to the next floor, deemed by everyone “the upstairs.” At the end of the hallway is a large office with huge windows.

You pop your head into the door of the office and are met with an immediate call to get out. Such polite people.

“Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. Natasha, I have Sam Wilson on the phone for you. I told him to call back later, but he insists that it’s important and cannot wait.” You expect her to come with you like she always does when she tells you to do this, but she doesn’t move. She just stares at you, then looks back at her bosses, then back at you.

She mouths something to you that you can’t decipher. She does it again, and motions for you to go stand next to her.

“I understand the situation that I’m currently in, that’s why I think it’s important that you know…”

She puts her arm around your shoulders awkwardly and announces: “We’re getting married.”

“Who is?” you question, a fake smile on your lips.

“Us. Me and you. The lovebirds of the office,”she says through her teeth.

“Uh, right,” you turn to her bosses and smile at them, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

“You know, she’s just so…” Natasha trails off, looking at you.

“I feel like it shouldn’t take that long to think of an adjective,” you mutter.

“Honest,” bites Natasha sweetly. “She’s honest to me. It was all those late nights together and early mornings, you really see the worst of each other. But that couldn’t stop us, could it sugarbear?” Sugarbear? Really? You send an unamused look at Natasha, who smiles pointedly back at you.

“Sure, honeycomb,” you grimace at the endearment, hoping it doesn’t sound half as ridiculous as you think it does. “We just couldn’t help ourselves from the attractive pull.”

“Something simply happened between us that I can’t explain,” concludes Natasha.

“Something definitely happened. And there’s definitely no logical explanation,” you agree.

“Is this-this is what you want, right? This is good?” Natasha motions between the two of

you, looking at the two men in front of you. They’re both wearing business smiles.

“Just make it official,” one says, pointing to his ring finger.

“That’s hot,” says the other. You want to punch him. You don’t think your fiancé (?) would appreciate that, though.

“Great. We’ll go to the immigration office right now and get this all sorted out. Thank you, gentlemen.”

“Of course. Ms. Romanoff, Ms…” the man at the desk trails off, giving up on remembering you name. He shrugs and goes back to his work.

“Ouch,” you murmur. You walk the rest of the way in silence, trying to figure out what’s going on. Natasha looks completely calm and in control.

Once you make it to you office, you shut the door, expecting some sort of explanation. Instead, Natasha sits down and starts working.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about? Because last time I checked we aren’t engaged and very much aren’t in love.”

“I was going to be deported to Russia and fired. This makes it where that doesn’t have to happen,” she states simply.

“And why would I comply with this? No offense, but I don’t need you to have a career here,” you inquire.

“Because if you don't, do think you’re going to be fired.” You raise your eyebrows at her, and she continues. “Dreykov, who we just fired, is going to take my place. You think he’s going to keep you around? I can answer that for you. No. He’s not. So if you want to be an editor, you’ll do this.”

“Jesus fucking shit.”

“That’s quite a swear,” notes Natasha mildly. “Don’t stress about it. We’ll get married, wait for me to get my green-card, and then get a quick divorce. Easy.”

“Easy,” you repeat, not convinced. Natasha tells you to clear her schedule for today and get all the papers ready to go to the immigration office. By the time you’re done, she’s waiting at your desk for you. “Let’s get this over with. Did you make an appointment?”

“I don’t think you know how this works.”

You’re proved correct when she skips the line, cutting in front of tons of people.

“You can’t just do that,” you protest.

“I just did.” You sigh and follow her, apologizing to the people you just cut in front of.

“I need this to file for a fiancé visa, please,” she says. She slides the papers across the desk, and a man approaches.

“Ms. Romanoff?” he asks.

“Yes?” Natasha answers, looking up from her phone.

“I need you to follow me.”

She turns to you. “See, I know how to do this.” The man leads you to a small room with a table and three chairs. He sits in one and the two of you sit across from him.

“I’m Mr. Smith. And you just be her fiancé?” he asks, looking at you.

“Yes. That’s me. Natasha’s fiancé,” you say smoothly. Natasha kicks you under the table.

“We appreciate you seeing us on such short notice. It all just happened so quickly,” thanks Natasha.

“That it did,” you agree. She kicks you again.

“I just have one question to ask you, and then you can be on your way.” He turns to face you. “Are you marrying Ms. Romanoff to save her from being deported to Russia, therefore committing fraud which has a penalty of five years in prison?” You stare at him with his mouth open like an idiot. Natasha tries to speak up, but he stops her.

“Because that’s what we think you happen to be doing, let me explain the steps that you will have to go through.”

“First, we ask around. Friends and coworkers will be asked if they know anything about you. Then, we ask families. After that, we check phone records and sightings. Lastly, there’s an interview. You will be asked everything about each other. If there’s even a slight difference in your answers, Romanoff will be deported and you will be put into jail for at least five years under the charges of fraud.”

“Unfortunately, your scare tactics won’t work because I’m totally and completely in love with this woman,” says Natasha, startlingly convincingly.

“What she said,” you second, trying not to sound miserable.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, things are going to get worse.”

“Ms. Romanoff, have you told your family about the engagement?” he asks blandly.

“My birth mother is dead and even she didn’t know who my father was. My adoptive father just got out of prison in Russia and my mother is on a farm with no way to contact her,” states Natasha matter-of-factly.

“It says here that you have a sister, Yelena Belova.”

“I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Are you currently in contact with her?“

“Yes, but we don’t talk about our dating lives,” Natasha says.

“What about you, ma’am? Have you told your family?”

You try to stutter out an answer, but nothing of substance comes out. You look at Natasha, hoping for a lifeline.

She rolls her eyes at you. “We were going to tell her family this weekend. It’s Grammy’s birthday.”

“How old is she turning?”

“90. Right, baby?” Natasha asks you. You nod.

“That’s a big one. She can’t come here. Where does Grammy live?”

You’re completely positive that Natasha doesn’t know this. “Why am I answering all the questions? It’s her family,” laughs Natasha effortlessly.

“My family is from Sitka. Everyone but me lives there.”

“Fine. Friends? Do any of them know? Or does anyone at your work know?”

“We couldn’t tell them because…” Natasha looks at you for help.

“Because of my big promotion. I was going to be promoted to editor next year, which was a decision made before we started dating, and we didn’t want people to think-“

“Right,” he cuts you off. Mr. Smith sighs and tells you that you can go. “I’m warning you, though. I’ll make sure that this is real.”

“God forbid the book editors start taking over America,” mutters Natasha. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she calls back at Mr. Smith, flipping him off.

You walk quickly out of the building, Natasha right on your heels.

“We’re going to have to push back all of our meetings for this weekend. Can you call Steve and tell him? And we need to get a first class plane for today to Sitka. And get me the vegan meal, last time I had this terrible chicken salad,” says Natasha.

“I’m sorry, were you not in the same meeting as me? I could go to jail for doing this, and the only reason I am is so I probably don’t get fired,” you exclaim, halting your walking.

“Well, what do you want?” she asks impatiently.

“I want to be an editor.”

“I’m not promoting you to editor,” she laughs.

“Then I’m not doing this. Being your assistant for the next few years isn’t worth the possibility of jail. Have fun in Russia.”

“Fuck,” she groans. “Fine. Welcome to the fucking team.”

“And I want my manuscript published.”

“Ten thousand copies,” she agrees.

“And if I’m going to do this, you’re going to have to ask me nicely.”

“Fine. Marry me,” she says flatly.

“You can do better than that. Come on, get down on a knee and ask me to marry you.”

“I’m not doing that,” she hisses.

“Have fun in Russia, Natasha,” you reply cheerily, starting to walk away.

“Jesus. Okay, okay! I’ll do it.” Muttering insults under her breath, she slowly gets down on her knees. “Dearest love, will you marry me? Nothing would make me happier.”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I accept,” you say.

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” you say lightly.

“Is it really a choice when one of the options is absolutely shitty?” she questions, still on the ground.

“Sure it is. I’ll see you at the airport.”

“You’re not going back to work?” she stands up clumsily, her skirt getting caught on her heel. It’s one of the only times you’ve seen her not the epitome of perfection. It’s almost endearing. It would be more so if she wasn’t asking you about work, but you’ll take baby steps.

“Fuck no. I’ve earned the day off. Bye sugarbear.”

“Piss off, homeycomb.”

Feeling So Tired; Falling Apart

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You don’t think you could ever be loved again, until Natasha comes into your life and refuses to be pushed out.

Word Count: 1,051

Warnings: Severe depression, self-hate, loneliness, isolation, heavy mental health issues and discussions, angst, and cursing.

A/N: This is just a vent fic that I wrote for myself because I’m not ok lol and I cope with fictional characters. Again- this is a vent fic, and please proceed with caution. Title is inspired by My Kind Of Woman by Mac DeMarco because I cry to his music.

You didn’t know when you realized that you were unlovable.

Maybe it was when you noticed how during your entire childhood the kids from school wouldn’t talk to you or invite you over to their birthday parties, or when you would hear their laughter in the hallways when you walked past them.

Maybe it was when everyone talked about their best friends and their plans for the weekend, but you had just decided to take on an extra shift at work to ignore the loneliness you were drowning in.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was when you were finally fucking old enough to stop being so goddamn stupid, and realize that everyone who told you that they cared or loved you was lying.

The only person who maybe could sometimes make you feel loved was Natasha.

Natasha.

She was the one person who was there for you. And you loved her for it. God, you fucking loved her so much.

But even with her support, you couldn’t drive away your depression and your isolation.

Because, unlike you, Natasha had other people. She was reunited with Yelena and spent a lot of time with her. Wanda was her best friend, and you could almost always catch them together. Even though she was your girlfriend, it didn’t feel like Natasha thought of you as her favorite person.

Because, quite frankly, no one ever did. And no one ever will. And fuck, it was the loneliest feeling in the world.

A feeling that even Natasha couldn’t and wouldn’t understand. No matter how hard she tried.

“Please baby, please. You can’t just push everyone away like this.” Natasha’s voice broke, but you couldn’t even hear it. You were huddled under your blankets, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t listen to her.

You took a breath in when you felt the bed dip and arms wrap around your waist. “Natasha, please go away.” You whispered. You reached out for your phone and huffed in annoyance when the redhead grabbed it out of your hands.

“You’re not doing this again. I will not watch you spiral, Y/N. We all love you and support you and care. I cannot stand by and watch the love of my life do this to themself. Please, just let us-”

You felt rage bubble in your stomach, and you threw her arms off of you. “Who’s us, Nat? No really, who’s fucking us? Because as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have anyone, Natasha! I’m fucking alone, and you can never fucking understand it!”

Natasha shook her head, “Baby, please listen to me. I hear you, and I understand you-”

“Fuck!” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheek as you stood up from your bed. “No, no you don’t! You have people who love you! Yelena’s your sister, and you talk to her! Wanda’s there and-”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Natasha said firmly, grabbing onto your arms and forcing you back down onto the bed. “Do you think in the Red Room that I never felt alone?”

You went silent, unable to respond.

“I was alone my entire childhood. Actually, I don’t even think what happened to me counts as a childhood. So please fucking believe me when I tell you that I know what’s it’s like to be so fucking alone. But guess what?”

You looked up at her.

“I found a family. The Avengers. I thought I’d be doomed forever too. It’s hard to get out of that mindset, I know. But you will find people who love you, honey. I love you. Yelena loves you. Wanda loves you.”

You shook your head and tried to ignore the sobs that were rising. “No, that’s different. You were made to be lovable because you’re… you’re a good person. You’re enough, you’re worthy. And I’m not.” You couldn’t hold back your sobs anymore.

You could practically feel the redhead’s heart break from your words as she pulled you into her arms, and refused to let you out of them. “You’re so worthy. So beautiful.” Natasha whispered in your ear, gently rocking you.

“No, I’m not. I’m so alone. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t-” Natasha shushed you and turned over, spooning you close to her. “Everyone says they love me but they never really do. I’m no one’s favorite person, no one’s top priority, I just-”

Natasha shook her head once again, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “But you’re my favorite person, honey. You’re my top priority, the light of my life. I need you, okay? I care about you so, so much. And other people do, even if you can’t feel it.”

“That’s not true. So many people say that and they’re lying- you’re fucking lying!” You couldn’t contain all the pent-up emotions from the years hiding anymore. You tried to escape the redhead’s grasp but she simply held you tighter and peppered kisses on your face.

“I’m not lying. Baby, I love you so much. It breaks me to see you hurting like this, it really does. I know the other team feels the same way. We all want you to be okay, we want you to feel happy. Because if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

You finally stopped fighting and let yourself cry. Natasha traced patterns on your back and whispered affirmations in your ear, unwilling to leave you alone, even for a moment.

“Go to sleep. I know you’re tired baby.” Natasha said in a soft tone, helping you get back under the blankets. “And when you wake up, I’ll get you some food, okay? Just rest for now, love.”

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“No. I don’t want any apologies to be spoken, okay? You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you and I’m not leaving you. No matter what you go through, I will be here. My love is unconditional, and I’m not going anywhere.”

With blurry eyes you looked up at her, “Do you promise? You promise you won’t leave me?” Your voice broke, and Natasha nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And with the redhead by your side you realized that with Natasha, you maybe had a chance.

You had a chance to feel better. To be better. Because unlike everything else in your life, Natasha stayed.

Main Taglist: @catasha @romanoffs-wallflower @wandanatvoid @marvelwomen-simp @freesloppy @alotofpockets @thewidowsghost @didujustcallmedumb @dawnoftime22 @deadcvpid @romanoffscottage @millieistheunofficialsimp @heartoreadallthequeerthingz @avengerswriter4eva @multifandomlesbianic @romanottsmaximoff @chiyongberry

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @milfloverslut @ghostlybailiffathletestatesman @madamevirgo @proudmorning @fanfictioniseverything

Hurt/Comfort Taglist: N/A

Her Or Me?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You find yourself in a situation you never would have imagined, and Natasha has to make a choice- will she save you or her sister?

Word Count: 1,844

Warnings: Heavy angst, angst without a happy ending, guns, descriptions of torture, descriptions murder, death, major character death, blood, stabbing, broken bones, grief, depression, self-blame, and cursing.

A/N: Here you go anon! I made this like super angsty, I guessed you might have wanted that? Sorry if this was too angsty though! This was something that was so painful to write but also I was invested in it. I would say enjoy but… read the warnings, man.

Natasha never would have thought that she would have to choose between her sister and the love of her life. You supposed she would have laughed and scoffed. This was mainly because of how smoothly her life had been going- she left the Avengers to live out her life with you, and was fitting into a society surprisingly well.

The idea that someone could simply come by and snatch up the two people she cared most for and threaten her with it- well, she couldn’t even think about it without tearing up.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened. And there was nothing Natasha could do anymore.

Your day started relatively normal. You had woken up a bit late and barely made it to work on time, but you quickly found yourself working through your workday routine. There were meetings here and there, and you worked on responding to emails.

You looked over at the clock and yawned, getting ready to pack up for the day and head home. It was roughly 5:30 PM when you started driving back to your apartment but quickly noticed a van following behind you.

At first glance, it didn’t worry you that much. You were an average person, so the idea anyone would have it out for you didn’t make much sense.

But when you went around the block to your apartment building and the car still followed you into the parking lot, you got panicky. You stopped the car and locked all the doors before reaching for your phone and dialing Natasha’s number.

“Hey, baby what’s up?” You heard the redhead ask from the other line.

You took a deep breath, “Someone’s following me, Nat. Someone in a van- they’re sitting in the parking lot and they haven’t come out yet, but I’m scared.”

Natasha paused, “Okay, don’t panic. Just drive back to the cafe, I’m about a three minute walk from there. We’ll meet up. Just drive there- Yelena works there so you should be safe.”

“No, there’s a man in a dark hoodie walking towards me, I don’t-”

The call ended.

You panicked, looking for every weapon you could possibly use when you heard a fist banging on the window. You silently prayed that Natasha would drive over and assume that you were in danger- which you most certainly were.

You screamed when the man ripped your car door completely off and grabbed your neck and arm. You tried to yell for help, but his grip was too tight, and you were quickly losing oxygen.

Your only thoughts were on Natasha- how you missed her. How it wasn’t your time to die yet. How you weren’t ready.

But then, all you felt was a sharp stinging sensation poked into your neck by a needle, and everything went black.

When you woke up, all you felt was extreme pain. Your arms hung up high by a metal chain, and you quickly noticed blood running down your wrist from how tightly the chains were. You saw a dull light and tried to figure out where you were.

As your eyes adjusted, you concluded that you were in fact in the middle of a warehouse. Deep breathes. Just think, what would Natasha do? You thought to yourself, before checking all your pockets for your phone.

No such luck. All of your personal belongings had been taken away from you.

You attempted once again to scan the room, and gasped in shock at what you saw- Yelena, in the same chains and position as you with a gag in her mouth and desperately fighting the metal that restrained her.

You fought back your urge to scream- you had to help her, and you had to help her now. You lowered your voice and whispered, “Yelena, it’s me. It’s Y/N. You have to calm down, okay?”

You could see the blonde’s eyes widen as she tried to get a good look at you. You noticed her trying to get rid of the gag with her tongue, and eventually, it fell out of her mouth. “They took us. They want to get to Natasha- they want her. They’ll kill us if we don’t-”

Yelena never got the opportunity to finish her sentence when a tall, brunette woman slapped her across the face and put the gag back in her mouth.

You felt sick just seeing the woman’s disgusting, evil smirk at the pain you both were in. “It’s nice to finally have you both here. Truly, I am. Now, I know you’re both very smart people. And I think the two of you know exactly what I want. Hm?”

You paused but nodded, “I know who you want. You want Natasha- you’ll never get her. She’s too smart- she’ll come with the Avengers and you’ll never see the light of day again!” You hissed at her- and your rage only grew when the woman simply chuckled in response.

“That’s adorable. But your little girlfriend is already on the way, my dear. When I told her that she had two hours to come here and choose who to save-”

You cut the woman off, “Choose to save? No, don’t you want her dead- you want to murder her! You’re using us as bait, why would you-”

“Listen! You do not know what happened in my past. I don’t wish to see Romanoff die. Now, that would be much too cruel. I want to see her suffer- I want to see the pain in her eyes realizing that she will be the reason one of you won’t walk out of here alive. I want her to be tortured by her guilt every day she walks on this planet.” The brunette growled at you, and you almost felt nauseous as you saw a sick smile tilt her lips.

Yelena’s face dropped, and you could hear the broken sobs racking her chest through the cloth in her mouth. You on the other hand felt painfully numb. A type of numbness feeling you’d never experienced before- it was so strong that you felt you couldn’t live with it.

“Three… two… one.”

There was a crash and Natasha came rushing in, a gun pointed straight at the woman’s head. “Let them go! They have nothing to do with us, Widow. Allow them to leave here safely and I’ll replace them.”

The woman, or Widow you supposed, just chuckled quietly and shook her head, “No Romanoff. You’re not calling the shots here anymore. You don’t get to choose- well, actually, maybe you do.” Her head tilted before she called out, “Boys! It’s ready!”

Natasha tried to rush over to Yelena, but the Widow simply pushed her right back.

You saw two men wearing all black walk into the room, and you felt the cool metal of a gun pressed firmly against your temple and a strong, muscular arm wrapped around your neck. You glanced over at Yelena, who was in the same situation as you.

“You see Romanoff, I’m not here to kill you. I’m only here to kill one of your loves here- which is up to you of course.” Widow replied, looking at her nails, seeming completely unbothered by the events that were occurring.

Natasha’s face streamed with tears and she said in a broken voice, “You can’t expect me to choose. I can’t choose between them- I love them both. I can’t-” She was cut off but Yelena’s scream when the man took a knife and firmly stabbed her thigh.

Natasha was quick to run over but Widow was faster, holding her back, “Now, now your lovely sister will be fine, Romanoff. But I have noticed you care for her, yes? I suppose Y/N can be the one to go then?”

You let out a choke when the arm around your neck tightened, and you felt your airway close. “No, leave them alone! Fucking stop, get off of me you bitch! Stop, stop!” Natasha yelled, thrashing in Widow’s arms.

You could see Natasha's eyes go back and forth, watching life slowly drain out of both of you. You had stab wounds in both of your legs, and you were choking while Yelena had both of her wrists broken.

“Stop it! Please goddamnit, stop it! I can’t, you have to stop! Kill me instead, please! Don’t make me watch them die, just fucking please!” Natasha begged in a hoarse voice, cries of agony ripping through her.

Widow tutted, “Oh you poor thing. Don’t you understand? They don’t both have to die. You can save one of them- why let them both die? Choose Romanoff. Their time will come soon.”

“No, no-” Yelena screamed with a sob when the man stabbed her in her upper right arm- “You leave my sister alone, stop!”

“Nat… please.” You begged her, your oxygen slowly running out. You saw the redhead look at you with watery eyes, and looked away, almost too ashamed to see you. “We have everything planned out… we have a future.”

“I’m sorry baby.” She let out another sob, tears violently running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I love you so much. I’ll love you forever, baby. I’ll never forget you.”

“NO, PLEASE-”

“Yelena.” Natasha whispered quietly to Widow, and she gave a short nod of approval for the man to finally end your suffering

“You can’t, Nat, NO-”

The click of the gun went off, and the bullet ran through your skull. Natasha cried out as blood ran down your temples, and your eyes had no emotion in them.

“It’s okay, Romanoff. We can’t save them all, hm?” Widow said with a sadistic grin before looking towards the man, who still had a grip on Yelena. “It’s okay. Let Belova go with her sister.”

Yelena was quickly removed from her chains and Natasha wasted no time running over to her and grasping her in her arms.

“They’re gone- because of me! I did this, I’m a murderer- I’m a killer-” Yelena shushed her and slowly rocked her.

“No Nat. You’re not a killer, far from it. Widow didn’t give you a choice, okay? You’re a good person, Nat. Y/N understood- they loved you. They would never blame you.” Yelena grunted in pain, falling over.

Natasha gasped and helped the blonde stand, “We have to get you to a hospital, come on. Let’s go.” The redhead promptly scooped up her sister and ran to the nearest door before running into the daylight.

“It’s going to be okay, Nat. Y/N loved you. Please, understand that they will always love you.” Natasha slowly shook her head, tears forming once again in her eyes,

“I heard their voice, and it wasn’t one of forgiveness. They loved me with all their heart and I threw it away- I’ll never be able to live without them, Lena. I cannot feel happy anymore.”

“That’s not true, you don’t know-”

“It is. Without them, I’m nothing. Just an empty shell. And for what I’ve done, it’s what I deserve. I deserve this guilt, this suffering. I truly do.”

Main Taglist: @catasha @romanoffs-wallflower @wandanatvoid @marvelwomen-simp @freesloppy @alotofpockets @thewidowsghost @didujustcallmedumb @dawnoftime22 @deadcvpid @romanoffscottage @millieistheunofficialsimp @heartoreadallthequeerthingz @avengerswriter4eva @multifandomlesbianic @romanottsmaximoff @chiyongberry

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @milfloverslut @ghostlybailiffathletestatesman @madamevirgo @proudmorning @fanfictioniseverything

Angst Taglist: N/A

Moon Song ➺ N. R.

Summary: It’s hard not to feel like Nat hates you – maybe it’s because you’re not good enough.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 696

Warnings: Self-doubt, swearing, angst with a happy ending :)

A/N: This fic was inspired by “Moon Song,” by Phoebe Bridgers.

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Yelena *panicking*: Natasha's going to kill me for letting you get hurt.

Y/N: It wasn’t your fault though, I’m the one who snuck away!

Yelena: Trust me, that’s going to mean jack shit to her when she sees that bruise. I don’t think you understand just how much of her sanity hinges on your happiness and safety.

are you jealous?

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: (NSFW) strap on, fingering, semi-public sex, slight mommy kink

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All Too Well

College!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 5K

A/N: Happy Birthday @reminiscingtonight. You’re the best, I hope you have a year as awesome as you. Despite the title, this is all fluff. I hope you like it!

Sophomore year of college was not going to plan. It hadn’t even started yet. You’d made the choice not to apply for dorms. Instead, you’d made plans with your two best friends from freshman freshman. The three of you had been inseparable for two semesters, and it made perfect sense to rent an off campus house together.

As the summer went on, it started to feel like you were the only one in the group still excited for the experience of living together. You found yourself sending links for potential houses into the group chat, only to be left on read.

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