natasha romanoff oneshots

a year without you

uhh idk if this counts as angst i dont personally think so-
self hatred maybe and possibly curse words and separation? crying? idk bro dont blame me im working on this at 5 am / p.s
vodka waffles
no ones pov

You sat at your kitchen table with a burning coffee cup in hand. Usually this would make you drop it onto the table immediately or continuously swap which hand it sat in- but it was just numb now. Its been like that ever since Natasha left without a goodbye. She said she had to go somewhere else for business but it would only be for a little bit. That little bit soon turned into weeks, then months and then about a year passed. Did I mention throughout all of that, she never called? She never texted you either and your concern soon turned into a mix of sadness and rage.

Was it a year? Time didn't make sense to you anymore and you barely left the house unless you had to work, or you gave into your stomach and went to buy food. The only reason you got up in the morning was because of your cat. He was a big grey tabby and he wandered outside, but he always came back before you went to bed so the two of you could cuddle.

You liked that someone still cared for you, but it still hurt how lonely you were. You isolated yourself from everybody and you hated yourself for that, but at least now you could just die somewhere and it wouldn't affect anyone.

A lone tear slipped from your left eye, and more soon followed after. Your cat slid into your lap, seemingly understanding with his big yellow eyes. He silenced your sobs with his loud purrs and rubbed his head against your cheek to rub away the tears. You didn't know what you'd do without him, since after Natasha left he was the only thing that mattered to you now.

You don't know how long you sat there with him in your lap, but you closed your eyes and the light turned into dark when you opened them. It wasn't 9 am anymore, it was 1 am. You sighed and saw your grey tabby still laying in your lap. You lightly scratched his head and he got the hint and hopped off, allowing you to step into the washroom.

You passed the mirror and paused, slowly turning to back to the mirror to see yourself- or a very withered part of yourself.

You leaned in closer to the mirror, taking note of the dark bags under your eyes, the small sad gleam in your (e/c) eyes and your pale face. You looked so unhealthy it was unreal. No wonder everyone avoided you at work. Tears started to well up and you groaned.

"For fucks sake, stop crying. Its so annoying now. You just looked at yourself in a mirror, calm the hell down," you mumbled to yourself and went to the toilet to do your business before leaving the washroom.

You stepped into the kitchen and paused as you looked at the waffle maker and a half empty bottle of vodka. Realizing how long its been since you had a small drink, you formed a plan in your head. Where could you go wrong with some waffles and vodka? Thats right, you couldn't unless you burnt the house down.

The small radio that sat in the corner of your counter was turned on and you began to work at your masterpiece. While you attempted to make what used to be your favourite disgusting snack, you took swigs of the bottle in between small pauses. To say the least, you got intoxicated as fuck and it was hard to tell if it was intentional or you just wanted a small drink.

Your drunk ass sat on the couch and scrolled through tv channels while nibbling on waffles and you turned to your cat. You went to offer him a piece and gasped in horror, immediately taking it back.

"You aren't of legal age- I'm sorry bud, you can't have my special waffles. Please don't hate me," you loudly whispered, aggressively giving him affectionate pats on the head. "I'm so sorry, you're only two and I already almost gave you vodka. I'm such a bad mom."