This will be a primarily Natasha Romanoff oneshot book, but I'll sprinkle in some Scarlett Johansson ones as well. SJ stories will be labeled with her initials.
It will be female reader.
Started 10.14.2021
Ended TBA
It will be updated as frequently...
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You were tired. You always were now that you knew you were dying. The doctor said at least a year but they were too enthused; lying to you, because it was only two months since then and you knew very well that the day you die is here.
And now — You wanted to talk to your wife, to get to maybe share one more dance beneath the stars but she wasn't available. She hadn't been for awhile, before you stopped running from your fate. The drinking started a month before, the lying and constant evasion came next. Natasha was mad at you, and you were dying. Dying to know why, dying to hear her say I love you one last time, but, she was dying to strangle you, to take you before the cancer.
Dying to know why, and as she laid on the couch with a puddle of beer staining the carpet you told her, "There's never a right time to say goodbye my dear, and I hope you'll forgive me in due time for leaving you this way." Forgive you for what? She'll never know because she was too drunk to hear you verbalize what she already knew was in your heart (and lungs).
Cancer took you and the world mourned first.
Natasha woke up to deafening silence. Not even the birds were singing. The dead leaves not falling, and you weren't answering her pleas. Natasha crumbled to her knees beside the bed. Her guilt laced grief rattling through the cracks in the walls she'd recklessly built.
The bright leaves fell then. As did your limp hand from hers when she felt the chilled skin.
The redhead stumbled from your room and sent Yelena a text, "Izvini." (Sorry). Then she returned with a poisoned bottle of whiskey.
Natasha failed to love you like she solemnly promised (vowed). She let grief consume her. The waste of time drinking started the moment that she knew you were leaving her behind. It wasn't the actuality—the cruel world taking you—nope, it was you, breaking a sacred promise.
To stay with her til the end, hers; not yours.
How could you take her lifeline away? Then actually expect her to breathe right some day?
Natasha wouldn't give you that satisfaction.
You neglected yourself for the sake of her for years. Not complaining of pain when she was met with financial problems after Tony died and his estate froze the Avengers funds until they could unveil his final will and testament.
During the blip she was running out of money every time she thought she stood a chance at bringing you back; you, who was already sick.
A daughter lost her father, a wife her husband. Millions were brought back from extinction, surely it counted for something, but what did all of the sacrifice mean if she lost you too?
Her mind plays a loop of every time you'd coughed while you were on the run with her. Never near a hospital long enough to tell her that something was wrong, because you would never risk losing her to Ross as you got cured.
