Natasha Romanoff One-shots (Natasha x Female Reader)

Self-deletion

⚠️Trigger warning ⚠️  Suicide ⚠️

This is going to be short so make the rest up in the comments.

Y/N pov: 

"Nat, I told you I'm sorry!" 

"Well sorry's not good enough. It'll never be enough"

"I didn't mean to!" 

"You didn't mean to kill her or didn't mean for it to hurt me?" 

"I-" 

"You're a horrible person Y/N," 

"Wait, let me explain!" 

"You're a horrible person!" 

"Nat!" 

"Stop. I don't even want to look at you," she walks to the door. 

"Nat, I'm sorry!" 

"Fuck you Y/N," 

"Nat!" 

"I hope you die and go to hell," she yells, Striding out, her eyes filled with tears. Slamming the door after her. 

I drop to the floor, tears running down my face. She's angry and I understand. I mean I would be too. I just really need her to listen and let me explain myself. Even if she does she probably won't forgive me and I don't blame her. I got myself into this mess. Even if I didn't know it was going to be her, I shouldn't have taken the job in the first place. I mean what kind of person kills innocent people, although she was hardly innocent, for the extra money? A horrible person that's who. I had just got laid off, and desperately needed the money, and the job happened to pay well. But for the price of what, I had just lost my person. The one person I went to for everything, the one person I would trust with my life, the one person that was always there for me. 

I fall back onto the floor, my face stained with tears. If this had been a different person, Nat would be here right now, hugging me, telling me that it would be ok and that I would sort it out, even if it won't be ok and it's never going to get sorted out. At this point what even is the point of being here. I had thought about it before and the only thing that stopped me was Nat, but if I'm never going to get Nat back what this the point of being here? My eyes flicker to the bottle of pills on my nightstand. I mean Nat hates me already and it's not like anyone else really cares about me. Plus she told me to die and go to hell. So what's stopping me.  

 I stand up and grab the pills and a bottle of water from the fridge. I slide onto my bed and type up a text to Nat.

I look around and roll the bottle around in my hand. I'm ready, I've been ready for a while. I didn't do it because of Nat, but now that she hates me I don't have to worry about her. I take a deep breath and pour the entire contents of the bottle onto the bed, I start taking them one by one. My breath became more and more labored and I start shoving them in a few more at a time. Once there aren't any left on the bed I press send on the text. I'm counting on the fact that she's too mad at me to look at my text. 

I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My vision becomes blurry and I start to feel drowsy. I'm not afraid of death, once you become so tired and sick of life, death doesn't scare you anymore. My eyelids feel heavy and I let them close. I become more aware of how slow my breathing is. A second later I pass out. My senses fading into nothing.

Nat pov: 

I can't believe Y/n did that. My head is spinning and I can't process anything. I stormed out of her room and went straight to mine. Lying on my bed crying and cursing y/n. 

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

My phone lights up with a notification, I turn to look at it. It's from Y/N. Despite the fact that I hate her right now, I still want to know what it says. After five minutes of contemplating whether I look, I finally pick up my phone. 

From Y/N: I know you hate me right now, to be honest, I do too. I promise I didn't mean to kill her or hurt you. But that isn't going to bring her back so all I can say is I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry for what happened, I'm sorry for what I did and I'm sorry for what I'm going to do. I know you probably want to kill me right now so....let me do it for you. Don't feel bad, this wasn't your fault. I messed up my life, and I've messed up yours so the least I can do you not be here to mess it up more. I hate life, I hate myself, I hate what I've done, so let me go. I'm sorry, but you'll be better off without me in your life. 

No. I jump off the bed, running for her room. Cursing the elevator for not getting her faster. What did I do? I told her to go die, I told her I don't want to see her anymore. I should've thought before I spoke. I know she went through this before, she's still on anti-depressants. Oh god. I knew a simple word could send her over the edge and yet I was the one who said it. I said it. 

I fling open the door to her room. My face drops. She's on the bed. You'd think she was sleeping and I hoped she was, but I know she isn't. I run over, my fingers flying for her pulse. 
No pulse. 
She's gone. She's gone and it was my fault. She's gone and I wish I could tell her I'm sorry. But she's gone and I can't. 

A/N: I'm not crying you are.