Natasha Romanoff x Reader Oneshots/Mini-Series

Don't Say Goodbye

(Uploaded to Tumblr on 22/2/20)

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,193

Warnings: Blood, injury, panic, implied smut, friends with benefits situation, anger, heartbreak. I think that's it!

Request: For ​ who donated to the Australian Bushfires.

Summary: What a shit show.

A/N: I really hope you enjoy this!

***

Well, this has gone terribly.

No.

Oh, no-no.

This was worse than terrible.

This was a disaster. And it had been from the moment it started.

The mission was a complete failure.

However, that's not where it started.

(Seven months ago)

"Natasha?" You asked in the cold dead night, staring up at your bedroom ceiling. Eyes used to the dark of the room. The sun would be rising soon, anyway. You knew you wouldn't be getting any sleep, so it was fruitless for you to even try.

"Hmm?" Natasha hummed, as she sat at the edge of your bed, pulling on her clothes.

You couldn't bare to look at her. If you did, it was certain you would surely break down.

"Why do we keep doing this?"

Natasha chuckled, totally blanking the far off drawl to your voice.

"Because sex is fun," she said, jumping up and down as she pulled on her jeans. Before turning to face you, leaning over your face, "And you're a good lay."

With that, Natasha pressed a hard kiss onto your lips, one that she did not notice that you had not reciprocated.

"I'll see you later, baby," she smiled over her shoulder, moving to leave the room, "Let's do this again later." With her back facing the door, Natasha shook her hips, with a teasing smirk on her face. "Maybe a quickie in the storage closet."

"I'm a good lay?" You asked, still stuck on her words.

"Well, yeah."

"Is that all I am to you?"

Natasha stopped fixing her hair, to turn and look at you once again.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Answer my question," you ordered.

"No. You're not just a lay to me."

"Then what am I?"

"Y/N," Natasha said slowly, crawling onto the bed next to you, hand caressing your chest. Your body unmoving, eyes still locked upon the ceiling. "You're my best friend."

"That you sometimes sleep with."

"I don't think 'sometimes' is the most accurate word," Natasha chuckled.

"Natasha," your voice was firm but sad.

"Okay... you wanna be serious now?" Natasha asked sceptical, "Because that is so unlike you."

"I'm allowed to be serious, Natasha."

Folding her arms under herself, to rest her chin upon them, still looking at you. Natasha clarified, "I know you can. It's just that you don't, normally... you can't even look at me."