Marvel Preferences and Imagines (Taking Requests)

As long as you need it

A/n: Inspiration by: OuterspaceSebby. Warning: Self-harm, Depression, Dysphoria. Please skip if this makes you uneasy or uncomfortable. Enjoy!

Life. The one thing that drives people to insanity and depression faster than you could read a thousand word story. It is so easy to want to let go. To sink to the bottom of your mind and never come back. To release life's hold on your arms and find out what happens after death. 

You sat on your bed sipping out of a bottle of Tony's cheapest liquor. It's taste burnt your throat slightly, but you welcomed that pain. You welcomed any and all pain that life could possibly give you. You looked down at your arms to see the fresh, bloody wounds that you covered every day with long sleeve shirts and sweatshirts. Your blades were littered on the bathroom counter. You could faintly see a drop of blood run down the sink before disappearing down the drain

"Y/n? You in here?" One of the friendlier people you knew knocked on the door. You rolled to the side and placed the Vodka under the bed. You stumbled across the room before your fingers gripped the door handle. You swung the door open to meet Loki's face. He looked suspiciously at you, noticing the smell of alcohol. You waved, laughing before slamming the door in his face.

"Have you been drinking Tony's Vodka again? You know that could seriously mess with the effects of pills Bruce gave you" Loki asked. You hear the door handle jiggle, alerting you that he was trying to get in.

"Go away, Loki boi, I don't want to see your weaselly face and mysterious eyes," You yell, running to hide your blades. You stuff them in the first drawer before hearing the door swing open.

When you peek out from the bathroom, you just see Cap sitting on your bed and looking at the pictures of your family. You walk out and sit next to him.

"What'cha doing here, Stevie," you ask, bouncing your knee slightly. 

"I'm removing you from all missions until Bruce determines you're healthy, physically and mentally," He says, standing up. 

"I'm perfectly healthy Cap," You say, flopping onto your bed. 

"So that explains why you have a bottle of alcohol under your bed," He says, showing you a bottle.

"Look, Steve, I-" You start. He put a hand up to stop you. He sighs and walks out of the room. 

You grab a pillow from the top of your pillow and hold it to your face. You scream and cry into it, just wanting to die. You take the pillow off your head to see that Thor was standing at the door, frowning.

"I would as if you were alright, y/n, but I can see that you're not," He says, slowly approaching you.

"Go away," You grumbled, turning away from him.

"I don't that would be a good reason," he replies, taking the chair from your desk. He puts it in front of you and sits.

"I don't know what they told you but I don't need help," you reply harshly.

"I wasn't asked to come here. I came because you're one of my closest friends," he remarks. 

"I don't want help," You mumble.

"Well, that's something that can be decided later," 

"You're not going to ask me what's wrong?" You ask.

"I lost my mother, my father, my sister, my best friend, and almost my brother. I know that sometimes, you just need someone there. So, I brought you some of my pop tarts, cause you love them," He says, offering you one. You quickly grab it and stuff it in your mouth. 

"They're so good," You say moaning at the strawberry flavor, your favorite. 

"I know," He replies, eating on.

"How long are you going to stay here?" You ask.

"As long as you need it,"