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symp4nat · 2 days

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reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirezreyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna avila ramirez arellano reyna

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symp4nat · 2 days

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MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAHHHH I LOVE THIS SMMMM

is this hatred? or love? part 1

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis what happens when you have to share a bed with your enemy?

word count 2.9k

warnings fluff, teasing, gunshot wound, reader’s injured, pet names (sweetheart, love), one bed trope, enemies to lovers, they’re both so in denial it makes me want to bang my head against the wall

author’s note haven’t had the time to write in a long time. i honestly had a lot of fun writing this, natasha being the most annoying fucking tease is the biggest headcannon to me <3

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“Need a hand, dorogaya (sweetheart)?”

“Shut up, Romanoff.”

“If you say so.”

With your dominant hand pressed firmly against your wounded abdomen to stem the bleeding, your other hand trembled as it swiped the card through the reader. Natasha leaned her back casually against the adjacent wall, her boredom thinly veiled by a feigned yawn as the reader emitted its third ‘beep’ of rejection due to your insufficient force.

“We’ll be here all day. Aren’t you supposed to have super soldier serum in your blood?”

“I said shut up.”

With an exasperated scoff, Natasha snatched the card out of your hand. She forcefully swiped it through the reader, the satisfying click of the door unlocking echoing in the corridor. As the door swung open to reveal the dimly lit motel room, Natasha couldn’t help but grin smugly.

“See? Easy as pie.”

You grunted in response, carefully adjusting your stance to maintain pressure on your wound. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, love.” She replied breezily.

With a nod of appreciation, you stepped through the doorway, a wave of relief washing over you, although the throbbing pain in your abdomen dampened it. Natasha followed suit, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked past you, her demeanour shifting subtly from teasing to attentive as she scanned the room. Once she familiarised herself with the layout and window exits, she turned back to you, nodding her head to give you the all-clear.

The room looked ordinary like any other hostel room, with neutral-toned walls and simple furnishings. A small table sat in one corner, adorned with a lamp and a few scattered brochures. Across the room, a worn-out armchair stood next to a narrow window, its curtains drawn shut to block the dim city lights. On the opposite wall, a modest dresser provided limited storage space, its drawers slightly ajar. Despite its lack of luxury, the room emanated a sense of comfort. As you looked around the unremarkable surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude for the simple shelter it provided.

While you were busy surveying the room, Natasha’s attention was on your injured abdomen, a subtle flash of concern in her eyes. The sight of the fresh blood staining your shirt in the brief moments it took to open the door tugged at her heartstrings, even if she would never admit it to you.

“How bad is the wound?” She inquired, pointing a finger towards your abdomen.

You glanced down, noting the slight redness seeping through the fabric and onto your shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t have this wound if someone realised that a HYDRA agent was aiming at them.” You retorted.

Natasha smirked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault they can’t resist taking a shot at me, I’m irresistible.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle despite the ache in your side. “Irresistible, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Of course.” She shrugged casually, giving you a knowing look. “I honestly think we both attract trouble wherever we go. It's probably the only reason Fury paired the two of the biggest troublemakers on this mission, right? He’s probably having the best day of his life without having to deal with us constantly being at each other’s throats.”

You smirked, acknowledging the truth in her words. “Seems like Fury knows what he’s doing after all.”

“Well, I’d like to think he’s getting some entertainment out of it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Entertainment? More like a headache.”

Her smirk softened into a faint smile as she shook her head. “Just because you saved me doesn’t mean that I don’t hate you still.”

“Likewise, Romanoff. Just because we’re being all buddy-buddy right now doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. “Good. Wouldn’t want things to get too sentimental, partner.”

You knew that the word ‘partner’ was dripping with teasing and sarcasm. The two of you were anything but cooperative with each other. You both frequently exchanged biting remarks, teasing, and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done to make her despise you so much. You were nice to her when you joined the Avengers all those years ago, but it always seemed that she harboured a deep dislike for you. When you spoke up in a team meeting, she would scowl and you could always feel her gaze burning a hole in your skull.

In the beginning, you tried to get along with her and be as friendly to her as you were to everyone else. From offering her assistance during training or helping her with her mission reports, nothing you did ever seemed to break the coldness and distance in her heart. You knew she wasn’t the most extroverted person, but you never saw her act that way towards others. Eventually, you gave up and decided it was best to ignore her, just as she had ignored you.

Of course, once you started ignoring her too, Natasha’s behaviour changed. She started teasing and taunting you, finding ways to provoke a reaction from you even when you tried to ignore her. And she kept winning. Her incessant teasing had a way of getting under your skin. It was a frustrating cycle of provocation and reaction. You felt like you were constantly on edge whenever she was around.

But reluctantly, you couldn’t deny that everything had changed during the mission an hour ago. Despite the heated tensions, you both had an unspoken agreement to watch each other’s backs in battle.

As the weight of the moment settled on you, Natasha’s gaze softened, and her concern for your well-being was evident in the depths of her eyes. “But seriously,” she said, her tone changing to genuine concern, “let me help you tend to that wound before it gets infected.”

You shook your head slightly. “It’s okay, I can take care of it myself.”

Her expression tightened slightly, her concern unwavering. “Stubborn as always,” she muttered under her breath.

You met her gaze with a steely resolve. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve handled worse.”

Her lips formed a thin line, showing her frustration. "Think of it as a way of repaying you for helping me.” She insisted, her voice firm.

You knew she wouldn’t give the matter up. The both of you were equally as stubborn as a mule. “Fine.” You relented, offering a nod.

“Great,” Natasha replied, a hint of relief in her tone. “To the bathroom then. I’m sure this motel room has a first aid kit somewhere…”

You and Natasha made your way to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing yours. Silently, you took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat. You leaned back against the toilet’s tank, the cool porcelain surface offering a brief respite from the tension in your muscles. She wasted no time in retrieving the first aid kit from the mirror cabinet and moving towards you.

“Take off your shirt,” She instructed, settling the first aid kit on the tiled floor.

Your brows furrowed in surprise at her directive. “W-What?” You stammered, looking down at her with an incredulous look.

Natasha rolled her eyes at your surprise, her patience wearing thin. “Come on, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” she chided, her tone tinged with exasperation. “I can’t clean your wound if you have your shirt on.”

Reluctantly, you began to peel off your shirt cautiously. Each inch revealed the angry red gunshot wound beneath, eliciting a whine as the fabric grazed against your wound. At least you were lucky that the bullet passed through instead of staying inside your body. As more of your skin came into view, Natasha’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. A blush crept onto her cheeks, betraying her normally composed demeanour. Despite her best efforts to maintain her composure, the sight of your exposed skin stirred something within her, igniting a warmth that she couldn’t quite suppress. Quickly, she averted her gaze, busying herself with preparing the first aid supplies. Though she tried to hide it, the flush on her cheeks lingered.

As you finally removed your shirt, Natasha’s expression softened even further. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself for me. It was incredibly stupid, though.” She murmured, her voice softer now.

“It’s alright, Romanoff.”

“You can call me Natasha, you know. You’re the only one in the team that still calls me by my last name.”

“Alright, Natasha.” Your lips twitched into a small, appreciative smile.

In a comfortable silence, Natasha began to carefully clean the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol, her touch gentle yet precise. The warmth of her fingertips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. As she worked, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, admiring the focused expression on her face.

Natasha’s brows furrowed as she delicately dabbed at the wound, her lips forming a thin line. Now and then, she would scrunch her nose up, a small, endearing gesture that softened her usual stoic expression. Despite the pain, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sight of her.

Once the wound was cleaned and dressed, her gaze met yours with a sense of satisfaction. “There,” she said softly, relief in her voice. “All done.”

You offered her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

A small, genuine smile curved Natasha’s lips as she met your gaze. “Anytime, dorogaya (sweetheart).”

As she rose to her feet, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You were well-acquainted with Natasha’s tendency to use nicknames on you, especially ‘dorogaya’, but it was typically wielded with a teasing edge. This time, however, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual teasing tone. Instead, it carried a genuine warmth that caught you off guard.

“Uh…” You stammered, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the unexpectedly sincere endearment. Clearing your throat, you tried to push aside the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened at your reaction. “Nervous, are we?”

“Shut up, Natasha.”

She chuckled softly at your retort, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

With a shake of her head, Natasha reached down to offer you a hand. “Come on, let’s get you back on your feet,” she said.

You hesitated for a moment, touched by her gesture, before placing your hand in hers. With a steady grip, she helped you to your feet. She moved to the doorway before looking at you over her shoulder. “I’ll let you shower first. Try not to get water on the dressing.”

“Got it.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, Natasha closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet of the bathroom. Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you slipped off the rest of your clothes and placed them in a pile with your soiled shirt. A sense of relief washed over you at the prospect of washing away the grime of the day’s events. You turned on the water, allowing the warm cascade to envelop you as you stepped beneath the stream. Despite the lingering ache in your abdomen, the sensation of the water against your skin was soothing, easing the aching tension that had settled in your muscles.

As you stood beneath the spray, you couldn’t help but reflect on the events that led to this moment. Fury had sent you and Natasha on what was supposed to be a routine mission, but as these things often went, it spiralled into chaos. The intel given was faulty, the security stronger than anticipated, and you were in over your heads before you knew it. It was a mission gone wrong, one of those rare instances where even the most meticulous planning couldn’t prevent disaster.

In the aftermath of the debacle, with your injuries sustained and the mission being held in another country, there was no choice but to seek refuge in a motel room for a night before a Quinjet could transport you back to the Avengers Compound. Fury had booked a motel room for you and Natasha, a nondescript haven tucked away from prying eyes. It was a humble accommodation, far removed from the luxuries of the Compound, but at least it provided a temporary sanctuary where you could tend to your wounds without drawing unwanted attention.

As you stood beneath the shower’s warm spray, the mission’s events were still fresh and raw as they replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. The close calls, the split-second decisions, the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat. And yet, despite the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remained constant — Natasha fighting with you side-by-side.

You couldn’t help but marvel at Natasha’s resilience. Her determination even in the face of overwhelming odds. She had saved your life more times than you could count, her skills as an assassin matched only by her unwavering loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, this time was different. During the mission, the roles had been reversed. In a moment of instinct, you had thrown yourself between Natasha and the gun aimed in her direction, putting your own life on the line to protect hers. The only reason you could think of for making a reckless decision like that was that simple — you couldn’t bear the thought of losing Natasha, even if you hated her with your whole heart. There was no hesitation as you acted on pure instinct, driven by a need to protect her.

As the warm water washed away the physical remnants of the mission, you emerged from the shower. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the steam-filled air gave way to the coolness of the room.

Immediately, your gaze was drawn to Natasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, her expression a mix of surprise as she took in your appearance. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the intensity of her gaze, prompting you to tighten the towel around yourself in a subconscious attempt to shield your modesty.

Finally, Natasha broke the silence. “Sorry for staring. I.. uh-” She faltered for a moment, her words trailing off as she cleared her throat, seemingly struggling to find the right thing to say. “We have a problem. There’s only one bed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. You looked down at the singular bed Natasha was sitting on. You couldn’t help but feel a flush of embarrassment colour your cheeks. The prospect of sharing a bed with Natasha added a whole new layer of complexity to your already complicated relationship with her.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Natasha suggested, standing up.

You felt a pang of guilt wash over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be fair for her to sacrifice her comfort for your sake.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You interjected quickly. “You take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.”

Natasha crossed her arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not being ridiculous. You’re the one that’s injured, you should get the bed instead.”

You shook your head. “I appreciate the concern but I really can’t let you sleep on the floor. We’re both equally exhausted from the mission and besides, you need a good night’s rest too.”

Natasha’s expression softened, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and stubbornness. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor either,” she countered, her voice firm.

You sighed, realizing that neither of you would easily back down from this standoff. “Alright, how about this,” you proposed. “We share the bed. It’s really small, so we’ll have to sleep pressed up against each other, but at least neither of us has to sleep uncomfortably.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, considering your offer. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening with concern.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “Go take a shower. You smell.”

She chuckled softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, relieved that the tension between you had dissipated, at least for now. Sharing a bed with her was certainly going to be an… interesting experience.

You reached for the bag you had dropped near the doorway and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself. As you settled into bed, you heard the door open as Natasha emerged from the bathroom. You were facing away from her as you felt the bed dip behind you when she got into bed. Feeling her presence behind you, you turned your head to offer her a small smile.

“Can I… wrap my arm around you? It’s the only way we’ll both fit in this bed.” Natasha remarked, her voice laced with a hint of embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension easing further as you nodded in agreement. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

As Natasha shifted closer, her front pressed up against your back and her arm gently encircling your waist, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at the sudden intimacy. Despite the awkwardness, there was a surprising comfort in the warmth of her touch, and you found yourself relaxing further in her embrace.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Natasha murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Natasha.” You replied, a sense of contentment settling over you as you closed your eyes.

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symp4nat · 5 days

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tw throwing up, overstim, over-drinking on water

fuck I'm feeling really overstim rn my head hurts and I feel like throwing up and I think its a panic attack I cant text my sister or friend because they wont like it shit

#help please

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symp4nat · 5 days

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talking | daisy johnson

(oneshot)

tw: angst, fluff, takes place after s7 but not cannon compliant, ending is open for interpretation

(images and gif aren’t mine, credits to owners)

she always wanted what she couldn’t have.

first it was knowing her parents, then it was finding a family.

as she got older, her wants became more selfish.

she met her parents, she found a family within shield.

but she met you.

she wanted you.

her life as an agent stopped her from getting what she wanted this time.

she watched from the sidelines as you laughed at whatever story mack was telling you.

you sipped on your wine and she could tell it was starting to have an effect on you.

your smile made her heart skip a beat, wishing she was the one who had caused it.

“go talk to her.” may nudged daisy as she made her way through the doorway and into the kitchen.

“i cant.” she shook her head, preparing to walk away.

“daisy, i can feel what you feel for her. i know from experience that you need to take the opportunity you have and not wait until it’s too late.” may looked at her seriously.

“what do i even say?”

“just say what you feel.” a smile appeared on may’s lips as her eyes moved from looking at daisy to something behind her.

daisy turned around to find you pouring yourself another glass of wine and a drunken smile still on your face.

“got something to say, johnson?”

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symp4nat · 6 days

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BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people you adore! Absolutely no pressure but. It's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out <3

AWWW UR SO SWEETNESSS <333

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symp4nat · 6 days

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this is me rn

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symp4nat · 7 days

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Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. as social media quotes series part 30/?

The rest of the series

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symp4nat · 7 days

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Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. as social media quotes series part 37/?

The rest of the series

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symp4nat · 8 days

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Rating women of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D based on how huggable they are

Daisy: She is always touch starved. Gives excellent hugs but it’s clear how scared she is of letting go. 8/10

Jemma: Better at cuddling than hugging, would sit on a couch with her but her hugs are probably too quick. 6/10

Bobbi: Probably also gives quite quick hugs, but she canonically does that soft tall person draping-her-arms-around-your-shoulders thing. 7/10

Yo-Yo: Better at being comforted than comforting others in a hug. But I imagine when she’s being comforted she just leans her head on your chest/shoulder and lets you take her weight. Excellent feeling, if different from the others. 9/10

Bonus Round: May throughout the seasons

Seasons 1-2: Awkward. Tense. Not horrific but she’s clearly very uncomfortable. 4/10

Seasons 3-4: Better. 6/10

Seasons 5-7: She has gotten better at showing affection and is so much more desperate to be around the people she loves. More willing to comfort others physically, she has reached Mom Hug levels of comfort. 10/10

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symp4nat · 8 days

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I have this headcanon that Percy needs more credit so Sally signs him up for needlepoint and he actually got really good at it, even enjoying it because he had something to do with his hands.

Because of this, he started to steal Annabeth's old jeans and patch them up with cute animals and doodles.

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symp4nat · 8 days

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I’ve said it before but i’ll say it again: Agents of Shield writers are too fucking good at their job.

So, like most of us after watching the AoS finale, I was big time sad. I loved it so much and there were so many good parts but..there’s just this weird feeling of dissappointment and almost confusion as to why they’ll never see each other again, why they split, why they’re all in the same room virtually but feel so far apart it actually hurts... They all got the happy endings they deserved and no one died but i just couldn’t shake this feeling of longing..?

Well guess what guys, that shit was intentional.

Like the writers said:

“No one we care for dies, but in some ways, there’s something almost more downbeat about an ending acknowledging the fact that even after world-altering events that forge permanent bonds, life just...goes on, in all its prosaic reality, the day-to-day intimacy that once existed an ever-more-distant memory. It may be an intentionally crafted sense of disappointment at the end of something meaningful—a solid approximation of the way most of us feel saying goodbye to a part of our life that meant something—but it still feels like disappointment.”

And when I read that I started crying because fucking damnit that’s poetic.

Because it’s SO TRUE.

It’s what life is, isn’t it? Making connections with people and places eventually to just leave it all behind. Somehow, someway, in the seeming span of 0.03 seconds our lives are changed and we’re surrounded by new people and that friend that was our bestie forever and ever is now just a contact on our phone, our childhood home is just some building we walk by on our way to work or class or wherever...and we’re new people. Better people, changed people, broken people.

(Echoing the words of our favourite Scottish genius:)

...We’re just different now and there’s nothing wrong with that.

And so are all the characters.

As much as I would have loved to see Philinda endgame and adorable MayDaisy bonding and Coulson giving Sousa the ‘if you hurt my daughter’ talk except it would probably turn into ‘if you hurt my daughter..well she’ll probably just quake your ass she’s badass but i’ll be by her side’ talk and the whole team on a quinjet flying off into the sunset...we already had that ending, remember? In Season 5.

As hard as it is, I suppose I have to accept that everyone’s changed. And now, having learned so much from each other and given all the lessons and love they can give, they have to take all those experiences and figure out where each of them fits in on their own.

Fuck it hurts. It really hurts seeing how awkward they all look sitting in those chairs in the VR meeting so far away from each other, no hugs, no drinks and laughs...just small talk. And what hurts more is seeing Daisy alone in that chair when the people she grew to call family fade with a flicker of code into thin air. But it’s so fitting too, so painfully nostalgic. Because with the press of a button she’s shaking it all off and exploring space with her dorky boyfriend, she’s teaching her sister how to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, she’s taking people who have nothing and no one anymore, and she’s slowly building a family of her own.

(Just like a certain someone had done for her, believed in her, allowed her see her worth some distant memories ago...)

And that, my fellow friends, is fucking beautiful.

Now excuse me while i go cry for a bit about all this

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symp4nat · 8 days

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ZOZO IM UR #1 FAN <3333

(𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢.) 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐣𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

content summary: foreshadowing luke’s death, luke is NOT catching a break i swear 😭💀, shading of percabeth, sassy!clarisse, overdramatic!clarisse, y/n is pining over clarisse (RIGHTFULLY SO), clueless!clarisse, offended!percy, y/n coming for chris’ NECK, y/n is ABSOLUTELY brutal towards chris

helping palestine 🇵🇸

masterlist

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part six // part seven

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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symp4nat · 9 days

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cancer's a bitch

masterlist

natasha romanoff x reader

2.3k words

warnings: reader has cancer and there's no happy ending. major character death

summary: at a time you need her the most, Natasha is nowhere to be found

“The results came back positive. I’m sorry. The next steps will be to start…” You couldn’t hear anything past that. It became white noise to the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, an instant emphasis of your ebbing mortality.

You knew about all the treatments your doctor was trying to explain to you, you had been on a deep dive down the web about them every night since you first went seeking help about your suspicions. Now that they were confirmed, you wondered who you should tell first. How could you even begin to find the words to tell anyone that you had cancer?

That was all you could think about on the journey home. Natasha would be there and you weren’t sure whether to tell her outright or wait for the right time. You wouldn’t know how much of that you had until you knew how your body took to the treatment. Best case scenario, the chemo would nip it in the bud and never return. It would be a thing of the past before you could fully process it as a terrifying present. Worst case scenario… Well, it didn’t do to think about it.

You needed to talk to Natasha.

When you finally got home, your heart plummeted further at the sight of your girlfriend packing. You knew that the frantic nature she took to grabbing items meant that she had been called on a last minute mission and that it was probably urgent. You also knew that she could be gone for some time. It could be weeks - weeks you would spend relaying the difficult conversation in your head. Weeks you could spend without her there to comfort you in your crushing fear for your life.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted as you hung up your jacket. If her mind wasn’t so preoccupied with work she would have asked where you’d been.

“Hi. Sorry I know we had plans tomorrow but I’ve been called away,” Natasha told you without looking your way, too focused on filling her bag as quickly as possible. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched the redhead for a moment, debating whether or not to ask her not to go. You had never done that before, nothing had been that important.

“You think you could skip? I need to talk to you,” you muttered, threading your fingers together to stop them trembling.

“I can’t skip a mission for a date, detka,” Natasha huffed. You swallowed.

“It’s not that,” you said with a forced chuckle. “I’ve just been to the-”

“Y/n, I need to go,” she told you pointedly.

“There are other agents.” You didn’t mean it to sound like a plea, to sound like a child trying to convince their parents not to leave them on the first day of school.

“It’s important,” Natasha said, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “There are things going on that you don’t understand.” That hurt.

“Natasha please,” you tried, not caring how desperate you sounded. Still, she continued for the door. Maybe if she had looked at you properly instead of kissing your cheek in passing, she would have seen the worry written over your features in bold. “Please don’t go.”

“I love you, I’ll see you soon,” she called over her shoulder.

“I love you too but I-” you were cut off by the apartment door closing in your face. “I’m not well,” you whispered. She was already gone.

There were numerous people you could have called to pick you up from your first round of treatment. It was also highly recommended. You were exhausted, but taking a taxi home was the easiest solution, because it meant you didn’t have to tell anyone where you were.

It had been a couple weeks since your diagnosis and Natasha still wasn’t home. You still weren’t sure how to approach the subject with anyone you knew, counting on your girlfriend to hold your hand through the process. But she wasn’t there by your side and she wasn’t there to take you home.

Wanda would have been a good person to tell. She was the kind of friend who would drop everything to be with you when you needed her. She would have picked you up. She would have pulled over to hug you when you began to cry silently in the back of the taxi. She would have figured out a way to call Natasha home but she couldn’t…because she was imprisoned.

The battle of Leipzig airport hit the news by storm, as did everything that followed. Half were imprisoned and the rest were either on the run or playing lap dogs to the government, leaving you alone. Upon hearing that your girlfriend was an outlaw, you were able to piece together that you wouldn’t be seeing her for a long time. Nor would you see your friends. You were deserted.

You collapsed over the toilet once you were home, bringing up the contents of your stomach as your weakened knees groaned in protest from the impact. They were already bad - your legs - having been the area the cancer was attacking, but every short track you made seemed to make the pain worse. So much so that you were tempted to let the exhaustion overtake you on that very bathroom floor. You just wanted to close your eyes in hopes of having a short break from your reality.

Instead, with a small whimper, you forced yourself up and towards the bedroom. The sheets didn’t smell like Natasha because you had had to wash them a few days prior. You had sprayed some of her perfume on her side of the bed but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t her. Still, you clung to her pillow as if it was, imagining her strong arms wrapping around your frame tenderly. She always protected you in your weakest moments, except that one. Except the worst.

Weeks turned into months and things became considerably harder. The pain was progressing with the cancer, working its way deep into your bones despite the aggressive treatment you had. At the start, a bad day was not being able to make it into work. After months, a bad day was not being able to get out of bed. The treatment wasn’t working.

“We need to operate,” your doctor told you. You peered at the frown lines along his forehead, wondering how many people he had given that news to before you. How many people had sat in the chair you were in, listening to the doctor tell them their body was failing to fight off a biological evil? Were their loved ones sitting in that office with them, occupying the empty seat next to you? Were they waiting outside? Were they a phone call away? You should call your parents. Nothing buried the hatchet like telling your parents you were dying, right?

You didn’t want them though, you wanted Natasha, wherever she may be. She could be dead. Perhaps if she was, you would be together sooner than it would take for her to come out of hiding to see you just once. You didn’t want that. You weren’t that selfish. You hoped she was okay, better than you at least. But you were selfish enough to wish she would come see you, just once. It would be dangerous, stupidly reckless. There were no doubt eyes on your home at all times, waiting for Natasha to come back for you. That was why she couldn’t come. Yet you still couldn’t help but think fuck the risk, please just come hold my hand.

That was all you could think as you were wheeled into surgery and when the mask was placed over your face. You didn’t wish for success or recovery. You wished for her. You were naive to even try. She wasn’t there when you woke up and even though you hadn’t expected her to be, it still hurt to see the visitor chair next to your bed empty. You weren’t desperate for company, if you were you would have called your parents. You had always prided yourself on handling things on your own, even the burdens you could share with others. So no, you didn’t want sympathy, cards, flowers or visitors. You didn’t even care that you still had to get a taxi home instead of having someone waiting for you in their car. You just wanted a text from your girlfriend, to know that she was still out there somewhere thinking of you - caring about you.

Even after a year, you refused to give up on the dream Natasha would some day come home. You still celebrated your anniversary. You celebrated her birthday. You placed a present under the small tree for her on Christmas, leaving it there even after you took the tree down. You left the first aid kit on the windowsill in the bathroom. You always made sure there was a fresh pb&j sandwich on the kitchen counter when you went to bed. Even when keeping the apartment clean and tidy became too difficult for you, you ensured that anything Natasha might need, should she come home, be out ready for her.

After two years, your doctor refused to continue your treatment. It was causing internal bleeds. It was stripping you of energy you didn’t have to start with. It made you sick. You were entering stage four, something that didn’t always mean you were approaching the end of the road. But in your case, you were.

Then, finally, you received a text.

Unknown number: new jersey, tmrw. I’ll send you an address once you land -n

You blinked at your phone. You weren’t going to make it downstairs, never mind to the airport. There was a high chance Natasha had destroyed the phone as soon as she sent the message, but you had to at least try and find a way to say what you needed to.

Me: goodnight, see you in the morning :)

It was code, something you had come up with years ago. It was a text you had always dreaded receiving but had never pictured yourself sending. Why would you? Your girlfriend was the spy who’s life was always in danger in some sense, yet it was you preparing for what would come next.

You closed your eyes, content in the fact you had managed to say goodbye in some sense. It wasn’t the way you wanted, but it was better than nothing.

You awoke, two days later, to the sound of your window being opened. You opened your eyes but couldn’t raise your eyelids more than half way, adding to the poor visibility the night time provided. You only saw the figure when it moved, but you weren’t alarmed by the presence of something unknown no matter what it could mean. You hoped it meant you weren’t going to be alone when you went, no one deserved that.

“Y/n,” Natasha’s name pierced through the room. Your breath hitched in your throat but you were unable to answer. Your throat was sore and you hadn't had a drink in a long time. You didn’t have the strength to grab the glass on your bedside table.

Natasha turned the lamp and you really wished she didn’t. You didn’t know what you looked like, but the last time you saw your reflection you were greeted with someone you didn’t know. Would Natasha see it that way? Wonder where her girlfriend had gone? She had always been an expert on concealing her emotions, but her shock then was clear. Not just that, she was scared. You knew that feeling all too well. It had taken her place as the one constant in your life.

“What…are…” She was at a loss for words, you noted. She took a tentative step that allowed her to be close enough to see the tears brimming in her eyes. God, you always loved those emerald eyes.

Natasha brought the glass up to your lips and you managed two sips before turning your head away. “What do I do?” She asked, voice shaking. Your hand managed to find hers, linking them together with the intention of never letting go until you had taken your last breath. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, squeezing your hand. You managed a smile. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.” There was so much more you wanted to say. How much you missed her, how you had waited for her to come home. You wanted to rush her out of the apartment under the fear she would be caught, but you also wanted to tell her that you had been hanging on for her, keeping the grim reaper outside your door until you were ready to take his hand.

“God I…” Natasha also had a lot she wanted to say. She wanted to tell you how not a single day went by where she didn’t want to come running home or at least send a text. How she regretted ever joining a battle that seemed so insignificant in comparison to you laying there. She wanted to tell you about her family and how much she had told them about you and that they had even promised to keep an eye on you as she continued on the run. She wanted to tell you that she was going to be at a loss without you, but seeing the exhaustion on your face, she didn’t want to keep you from your rest any longer. You had waited long enough for her.

“It’s okay. You can go now. I love you so much and I’ll never stop loving you. You’ve done so well and I’m so proud, you can go to sleep now.”

Natasha didn’t want you to see her cry. It took all of her will power to hold it back until the final rise and fall of your chest. She bit back a sob, watching the light in your eyes finally dim so that they could take their place among the stars.

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