#i am tired and hungry and dehydrated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 years

Note

if you’re taking joel requests here’s one :3

touch-starved!joel who isn’t aware he’s touch starved but then extremely affectionate reader comes along and just always! touches! him! loving & intentional touches, casual touches—all of it drives him wild and he loves it!!

thank you!! I hope this is okay! Touch-starved Joel who wants you but doesn't know how to want you w/ mutual pining ♥︎ fem!reader 2k

Joel wishes you wouldn't work the same shifts as him. Wishes you didn't have to work any shifts at all, wishes you didn't know this life, but you do. He wishes you wouldn't pick all the high-paying, devastating jobs that he does, wishes you didn't insist on keeping him company. And above all, he wishes you wouldn't touch him, because he can't handle the way that he feels when you do.

Sharing shifts turns to seeing one another outside of the old meat market by accident. In turn, that becomes purposeful. Before he really knows it, you're comfortable enough to come by his apartment and you'll wait there even when he isn't home just to see him. Precious hours of your life spent curled in on yourself at his door.

Joel nudges your sleeping body with his shoe and then feels like the world's biggest asshole. He sighs, kneeling down despite his aching back, and shakes your shoulder. He notices how soft your jaw looks when you sleep and has to look away, lest he think about it too much now, and remember it later. You have this habit of chasing him into bed when you're not there.

Your hand wakes before your eyes do, and you curl your fingers around his wrist, half on his sleeve and half on his skin. Where you connect hums with heat.

"Why are you out here?" He changes his prerogative, feeling as though chastisement is more important. "You have no sense of danger, even now. Get up."

He doesn't speak without fondness. You'd have to look hard to find it, but it's undoubtedly there.

His tone has you awake and alert quickly, your gaze on his face. "I do," you say croakily, letting him pull you into a standing position.

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"I can't call first… You look tired."

"I am. I'm not staying up." He pulls his wrist from your lingering grasp. "Should've called."

"You act like you don't like me," you say without inflection, following him in through the door and closing it softly behind you.

He drops his jacket over the back of the couch and scrubs his face with both hands. His back aches from standing and heaving all day, his arms tight with a cramping tension.

If he were younger he'd turn around and wrap you up in his arms. He'd tell you what he really thinks of you, your head hooked in the crook of his arm, his free hand roaming lazily over your back. His pinky finger would run along the line of your jeans playfully, and maybe you'd laugh. You don't laugh as much as you should.

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

"No, Joel."

You'd lie even if you were.

He moves into the kitchen, makes himself a small glass of water, and leans against the counter. He tries not to drink it like a total pig knowing you're watching, but he's dehydrated and cotton-mouthed.

The window paints you in a weak light, like iced tea. You pick over his things and arrange yourself on the couch like a tired house cat, pulling your legs up and rubbing your cheek against the backrest. Shoulders to the arm, you're almost lying down. He could superimpose you into his sheets, imagining how you might look in bed, not naked or waiting or anything so salacious, just how you’d look getting ready to sleep. He wonders if you wear pyjamas, figures you likely sleep dressed as you are now in your shirt and jeans. Maybe you swap denim for sweatpants, maybe you don’t. Maybe you peel your shirt off, maybe your bra. He entertains a life where he gets to see it and finds it painful as wrapping his hand around a hot poker, because that life is alarmingly close to this one, if he were to take one small leap.

“Where were you today?” he asks.

He sees a flicker of humour flit across your face. He knows it as one of your tells — you'd thought about bending the truth.

"You don’t have to worry, I’m just… rundown. Felt sicker than usual, so I stayed home."

It's automatic for him to give you a once over as he would with anybody who feels under the weather. You haven't been unlike yourself, you aren't sweating or irritable. You're fine. You’re more than fine.

You have a strange inability to look after yourself. He believes in positive (and negative) reinforcement.

"Good girl," he says.

You smile at your hands, picking at nails he knows are scrubbed raw and clean as he crosses the room to sit with you on the couch. You're quick to push your legs over his lap, your jeans riding up until the rarely-seen skin of your ankles peak out.

"I had an incredible headache," you continue. "And I felt like the blood was rushing in my ears when I stood up but I wasn’t dizzy.”

You touch him and it's like all his agitation starts to numb itself. The weight of your legs has him forgetting his aching back and his sore arms. He stares at his closed fist by your foot, willing himself to touch you; all he wants to do is grab your leg, feel the dough and softness of it under his palm. You sit up a touch to brush a longer piece of hair sticking out behind his neck.

He pretends you aren't moving at all.

"Do you feel better now?" he asks.

Your knuckle brushes under his jaw. He feels the short hairs of his beard catching.

"I feel fine," you say. "How are you feeling?"

He turns to face you head on. He’s not going to answer your question. You already know he won’t, but you've asked anyway. He isn’t sure what to do with that.

“You really do look tired,” you say softly, concern knitting your brows together. He thinks it’s your most devastating look yet. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Joel, I’ll go home. You can get some real rest.”

He almost says Hey, I don’t want you to leave yet, and you’re already standing up. You look more sorry than you should, believing that you're a burden on him when you aren’t — you're a lightness. You drain the levy, and he can’t see himself getting any rest at all if you leave.

You’re saving him the awkwardness, climbing off of his couch and out of his lap to track down your shoes. “And, you know, you could shower,” you say, trying to infuse some life back into the room, “I know the cold water bites but we all gotta do it.”

He stands up too fast and feels an absence of noise. No blood rushing in his ears, no beating heart. He’s too tired, in every sense of the word, to ask for what he wants. He can’t ask you to stay.

You lean down to hook your finger into the back of your sneaker and stop at his expression. You stand a little taller. Whatever vulnerability he sees in you now, your short black socks against the floor, your sweet-eyed, tentative smile, he suspects he’d find it doubled in the mirror.

“Joel, I…”

He can’t ask you.

But that doesn't mean you can't ask him.

"Do you think I could stay, after all? To sleep. Just to sleep," you say. Your voice is quiet, like you're trying to spare yourself some dignity if you need to take it back.

He thinks about it. You, in his bed. You, sleeping as you had been in his hallway, your lashes skimming the delicate skin under your eyes, your neck craned in. You, with your hands under your cheek, your sluggish breathing, your heart capering only a handful of inches from his.

A beat. "You kick in your sleep?" he asks, cotton-mouth returned.

"No," you say. You laugh through it, making the word so thick it's almost sticky. Honey in sound.

It solidifies what he's said yes to. He doesn't know how to sleep next to you. He barely knows how to talk to you, and doesn't try as he leads you into his bedroom. Thankfully, you spare him. He knows you aren't the most confident person on the planet, and that each bold move you make is for his benefit. He tries to be unflinching in return, kicking out of his shoes and throwing back the blankets to lie flat on the sheets. You settle in next to him with little ceremony.

You keep your legs hiked up at first, your heels digging into the mattress near his knees. You turn your face to his, and he turns his face to yours. He can see your every wrinkle and line this close. You must be seeing his.

"You got lucky with the neighbour lottery, huh?" you say, not quite whispering. "It's silent."

He doesn't want you to stop talking, but he can't help himself. "Almost," he says wryly.

You know him well enough to smile. "I guess you don't need the quiet," —you turn carefully onto your side, letting the weight of your knees rest on his thigh— "'cause you work all day every day."

The opposite. The shit he sees on shift is enough to give anybody insomnia.

"I'm the bad neighbour."

"Oh, right, your radio." The back of your hand touches his arm. The slightest of touches but enough to make him realise how much he wants it. He can't remember the last time somebody touched him who wasn't you, not for years now. It's an amicable casualness he can't explain away. He wants it worse than a hydro.

"I might, uh, might cling a little, in my sleep. You can push me away, swears. Even if you gotta really fight me on it." You close your eyes, burrowing your face into one of his flat pillows. Your knuckles jump up his arm as you get comfortable. "Jus' shove me."

He closes his eyes. The dark of his eyelids is usually a torment, but with you this close it lulls him quickly and without finesse. "I'm not gonna shove you," he says while he still can.

He's on the precipice of sleep when your hand slides up his bicep. You feel along the soft ridging of his muscles until your fingers slot between his arm and his chest, and your nose is kissing his shoulder. It's as if the moonlight has heat and it's bearing down on him through the dirty windows as every stressed ligament, every tensed tissue in his sore body finally gives in to rest.

When he wakes, he's missed his morning shift start. You're clinging to him like you said you would, harder than he'd think possible considering your unconsciousness, with your lips pressed to his shoulder. He thinks it might leave a bruise.

He dips his face toward yours until the tip of his nose nudges your forehead and goes back to sleep.

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endo-bunny · 2 months

Text

Sit Down Now and Rest

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Description: You had anxiety and depression, and Tony and Bruce were more than happy with getting you anxiety meds the moment that you asked. When you stop taking your meds, your mental health plummets and spirals as well as your physical health, and everyone notices. Don't worry though, they're there for you.

Pairing: (Platonic) Avengers x Teen!Reader

Type: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, sickness, fainting, dizziness, taking meds(both medicated and just vitamins/iron supplements), dehydration, insomnia, depressive and hurtful thoughts, reader doesn't talk very much in this, nicknames(Kiddo, Kid, Hun)

Word Count: 1,627

Note: I may or may not have written this with too much of myself being present… But it's fine! I also wrote this at like 2 in the morning so it's kinda rough but I just needed to get this typed out so here ya go! Also, the characters might be kinda ooc because I haven't watched any marvel movies in a little while but I've been hyper focused on fics with them lately so yea. And I am working on my tlou and tech fics, it's just hard to find the motivation to write them, but don't worry, I'm working on em.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

You were quick to notice that you stopped taking your meds. You knew that they helped you, but you couldn't get yourself to start the habit of taking them again. You wanted to, most definitely, but you couldn't. Every day was the same. Wake up, look at your meds, contemplate taking them, saying you'll take them later, go train, eat, and then not take them.

You also stopped taking them at night too. You had even set alarms so that you'd remember to take them, but it didn't help at all. Natasha was the first to notice that something was up, being the closest one with you. When she realized that something wasn't quite right, she made sure to keep a close eye on you. She was quick to pick up how dizzy you looked when you'd get up, sometimes not even being able to stay standing before you crumbled back onto the couch. You'd always play it off as if you just lost your footing but she and everyone else knew that that wasn't the case.

One morning you had gotten up much later than you had recently been getting up. When you checked the time, it was around two in the afternoon. You got up and went to the kitchen, feeling extremely hungry after forgetting, and also just not wanting dinner the night prior. When you arrived in the kitchen, Tony was there. He had kind of taken up the father role in your life.

The moment he saw that you had finally arose, he was quick to make a snarky comment in good fun, “Ah! The beast has finally awoken from their slumber, now off they go to find their beauty.”

You only roll your eyes, ignoring him. You felt exhausted, even though you got close to ten hours of sleep seeing as you fell asleep around 4 in the morning. You couldn't find anything easy to fix or that looked appetizing in the fridge or pantry so you just opted for a bottle of water that you would only take a sip or two of then leave with your other five almost full water bottles on your nightstand.

Before you could go back to the confines of your room, Tony had to ask you a question, “ Hey kiddo, did you take your meds?”

The question caught you off guard, not expecting him to ask seeing as he hasn't asked in a real long time.

“Oh yea! I, um, took them earlier but fell back asleep. Yea, that's what I did!”

You try to make it seem like you weren't lying through your teeth, but weren't very successful because of how exhausted you were. However, before Tony could confront you, you book it to your room. You hide there for the rest of the day, not coming out for Dinner. Steve had come by to tell you that dinner was ready but you told him that you weren't very hungry as you just kept your

on the book that you had your nose in. You kept your light on all night, not feeling tired.

The next morning, Nat knocked on your door around eight, coming to get you so that you could train with her. When she opened your door, she saw you laying on your back staring up at the ceiling. You looked exhausted and had dark circles under your eyes. When Bat opened the door, you flung up in surprise. You hadn't heard her knocking so you weren't expecting for the door to randomly open. You couldn't tell who it was at first because your vision went fuzzy black as your body tried to accommodate the sudden movement that you caused. Nat waited for you to acknowledge her.

When you did after a couple seconds, you looked over at the time, confused. It had just been two the last time you looked at the clock. How could it be eight all of the sudden? You were brought out of your thoughts by Natasha trying to talk to you. You zoned back in, giving her a questioning look.

“I said, are you ok? You look exhausted Hun. I came by to get ya to come train but it looks like you need to rest for a couple days.”

“Oh! No, I'm fine. Just give me a couple minutes to get ready and I'll be down and we can get to work in no time!”

She gave you a skeptical look but nodded, closing your door behind her.

When you got down to the training room, Bucky and Steve were there with Natasha. They smiled upon seeing you walk in. However, Bucky and Steve's bright smiles dropped upon looking at your figure. You were slouched, tired eyes not fully open and your eye bags were extremely dark.

Bucky was the first to point it out, “Hey Kid, you ok? You aren't looking too good.”

You only shrugged, your body aching and your throat feeling scratchy and sore for some reason.

As you're sparring with Natasha, you continuously have to stop the match because you go into coughing fits. As finish with your last coughing fit you go back to Natasha, but she's packing her stuff up.

“Wait, where are you going?” You're voice comes rather harsh and rude as you ask the red head.

“I think you should rest for the rest of the day Hun. I'll come check on you in a little while. But go take your meds and also some cough syrup and eat something.”

You didn't say anything as you grabbed your stuff and walked back to your room. This was stupid. It was just a little cold. You can still fight. You need to train. Deep down though you knew you needed to listen to her and do as she said. In the end, you don't. You go back to your room, take a sip or two of water, get a small snack and then sit down in the living room with a book.

You try to read it, but you can't stay focused for long enough to. Your mind is spiraling and racing. You kept replaying how training went. You were so pathetic. And rude. How could you be so rude? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You slam the book down onto the sofa, huffing.

You hadn't noticed that some of the others had joined you in the living room. They look up at you, surprised. They weren't used to seeing you like this. You tried to get up quickly, wanting to get away from this embarrassing situation.

The moment you get up, the world goes black, buzzing and ringing is the only thing you can hear as you collapse. You feel something picking you up and setting you down on the couch. You blink your eyes a couple times, slowly feeling sensation being restored in your body. You look around you and see that Bruce is coming over with a damp cloth and water. Nat has your head resting in her lap and Tony has your hand in his. They all look worried as they stare down at you. You hear gasped as Steve and Bucky walk in.

Questions are being thrown at you, too fast for you to comprehend. You instinctively put your hands on your ears, feeling overwhelmed. They all quiet down upon seeing this. Tony is the one to ask the questions from then on.

“Hey, it's ok. We're sorry, didn't mean to overwhelm ya like that. Can ya sit up?”

You nodded, feeling embarrassed now. Tony nodded and Nat helped you sit up, allowing you to lean against her.

“Ok, drink some water, you're ok,” Tony hands you the water that Bruce had brought over as Bruce is wiping your face with the cold damp cloth.

“Ya feeling better?”

“Ya, I'm fine.”

“Have you been taking your meds, kid?”Tony doesn't hold back, knowing what it looks like when you don't take the meds that have been helping you produce what your body needs.

You sheepishly look down at your hands that are fidgeting in your lap. You inhale sharply before shaking your head no.

They all sigh, Natasha being the one to talk this time, “Why haven't you been taking your meds, Hun?”

“I-I just don't want to… I don't like the feeling.”

They looked at each other, wondering what to say. As they look at each other, you go to stand up, but they make sure that you don't get up.

“Sit down now and rest,” Bucky's voice comes from behind you, his hands still on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry…” Your voice comes out in a whisper.

“You're forgiven kiddo, but ya gotta start taking your meds again.” Steve comes over and sits on the other side of you as he speaks.

“I know.”

“How bout I take my medication with ya? God knows that I haven't been taking it as much as I should be,” Tony chuckles as he tries to negotiate with you.

You didn't know if it would actually help you but you were open to the idea.

“Good, drink some more water. Now what do you want to watch? Hm? TV's all yours,” Tony stood up, giving you the TV remote as everyone decided to sit down on the couch.

You picked your comfort movie as you snuggled up with Steve and Nat. Tony had gotten you some actual food, and by the time the movie was over, you had drank all the water, ate all the food, fell asleep, and almost everyone else had fallen asleep as well. You felt safe with the people that cared about you all around you. You knew that this would be a journey, but you also knew that you weren't alone.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Tag list: @fakegingerrights @macchiato-dreaming22 @silnebula

#the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x platonic reader #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bruce banner #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #avengers angst #avengers fluff

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silken-moonlight · 4 months

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I am awake now for officially 24 hours. I think my brain melts. No just kidding, I am just very tired but had to imagine this:

Werewolf bf being sweet

You can smell dinner when you step into the flat. The TV is on, some true crime documentary running. You're so tired work was draining that day. You were hungry, maybe also a little dehydrated and felt dirty.

Your werewolf boyfriend immediately greeted you at the door. "My love, you look terrible." You chuckled and threw your shoe at him, which he caught. A kiss was placed on your cheek, and he brought you to the bathroom so you could take a quick shower. While you showered, you told him about your day, and he told you about his, catching up on the hours you were separated. There was already something laid out for you, a t-shirt of his and some silly panties with ducks on it.

You eat dinner together, watch some more TV and then go to bed.

A domestic life, a calm life. Everything was just as perfect as it was.

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monsterlover #monster bf #monster fuqqer #monster romance #monster kink #monster smut #werewolf x reader #alpha werewolf #werewolf romance #werwolves #werewolves #werewolf #werewolf smut #smut writing

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angeart · 9 months

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[hhau] — the ribbon

I almost forgot to talk about the ribbon-

Only one person asked about it, but i am very easily convinced to give in to hype and rambles. i love being excited about things i enjoy, and i love sharing them, so thank you for being interested!

This is about the hunted hybrids au, where both mine and @linkito's art features a dark ribbon tied around Grian's pinkie:

[art 1] [art 2] [art 3]

(I'll admit it should be tied in a bow, even though i draw it loose—)

So what is this ribbon?

It comes to play early in the story. Just after Scar finds Grian and saves him from the hunters. Grian's in a bad shape. He's exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, and he just lost a lot of blood. He's in a world of pain, after being viciously attacked and almost killed, terrified and barely conscious.

Scar needs to keep him alive, no matter the cost.

Grian needs water.

Scar doesn't have water.

But he knows where to find it.

Except going to get it means leaving Grian alone, and— He can't. He can't. (He has to.)

Hopeless, desperate, aching, he soothes Grian, brings back the memory of something simpler, woven with promises of returning soon. (They're just on a sleepover. He's only going to fetch him a glass of water. It's okay. It's okay.) And he leaves something behind.

Something for Grian to hold onto.

Something to remind Grian that this happened. That Scar was here and he will be back. That he isn't alone.

Scar undoes the ribbon around his neck. And he puts it in Grian's weak, uncomprehending hands. (The fingers twitch and try to curl around it anyway.) (It feels important.)

He asks Grian to hold onto it for him, and he leaves.

Now, Scar makes it back safely. But Grian's dizzy and dazed and confused, and he feels the ribbon slipping, and he panics. (He was told to hold onto it.) (He needs to hold onto it—) (It falls out of his grasp so easily and he can't do a thing to stop it—)

Scar catches it, tells him it's okay, he's back, he's here now, thank you for keeping it. And he considers putting it back around his neck, but... It no longer feels like something just his. It feels like it turned into something else.

A tether. A lifeline. A heartstring.

And Grian needs it.

So he ties it around Grian's pinkie, in a loose but secure bow, for Grian to have it near and to feel it without fearing losing it. And Grian keeps it.

---

Here's some out of context rp bits that feature it, just to drive home what it really means for them in this wretched, hopeless world:

Grian:

Black ribbon rests securely wrapped around his finger, a piece of Scar’s attire, a piece of, maybe, his soul. A tether. An anchor. A lifeline.

Scar:

He watches the black fabric shake with the same tremors that plague Grian’s reach, fragile like he is, and Scar resolves that he must have done something right, that he’s not a failure, that he didn’t ruin everything if Grian still wears the ribbon around his finger. They still have the connection, the tether from one brittle heart to another.

Grian:

The ribbon tingles against his skin, a strip of fabric that seems to be a manifestation of the tether Grian feels stretching away from his weak, wounded heart, leading him straight to Scar.

Grian:

So with a tattered heart beating painfully against his bruised ribs, he swallows down the guilt of what his wings will do to both of them, and he makes his decision.

Tired and sore, he lifts his hand up, reaching out to Scar. The ribbon falls from his hold as he uncurls his fingers, left to dangle in the air and shadow his motions, still tied around his finger just the way Scar is tied around his weak, traitorous heart.

---

(Yeah i think a tether is a good word for it, clearly. Mhm. That's what it is. A very important little strip of fabric, that once used to rest against Scar's pulse point, soaking in the beats of his heart, now given to Grian for safekeeping <3)

#ange rambles #hunted hybrids au #hhau #featuring the ribbon!!!#because we're a little bit insane about it #look it's very important #it's comfort and safety #a promise #something tangible that whispers “you're not alone” directly against grian's skin #something for scar to see and understand that grian needs him #as long as he keeps that ribbon on him #(wouldn't it be a shame if it ripped and he lost it—)#scarian

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normal-internet-user · 2 years

Note

Hey I just read the request you wrote for where the TMNT boys have to deal with losing the reader and I swear I legit cried. You write angst very well. Would you be able to write a happy ending where the magic green portal decides to just throw the reader back after a few months or something and the reader goes to find the boys again and has to convince them they're really there? My boys need their happy endings!!!! No worries if you can't, thought I may as well ask. <3

Of course, I've been planning on writing a part two for a while now, this was just the push I needed to actually write it lol! Enjoy your happy ending!💕 Link to pt: 1

BAYVERSE BOYS WHEN READER RETURNS

You sat in your bed, eyes puffy from the tears that never seemed to stop falling, you were dehydrated, hungry and oh so tired.

You knew this wasn't healthy.

You knew (Turtle of choice) would be upset with how horribly you were taking care of yourself.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to care.

Why should you care?

How could you just go back to living after losing the love of your life?

Who could do that?

Not you.

So here you sat, puffy eyed, and depressed. You just wanted to go back to the time you had with your turtle. You'd tried to let it go, to move on and except the cruel fate of the universe, but you couldn't.

And the universe could go fuck itself for all you cared.

You let out a strained cough. rubbing your soar throat.

Water.

You stood up begrudgingly, making your way out of your bedroom and into the kitchen, filling a glass to the brim with the clear liquid.

Just then, a familiar green light appeared behind you. You dropped the glass in surprise, eyes widening in joy.

You let out a low sob, running through the bright green ring. The sensation of falling overtook you, just like last time...

And just like last time, you landed right in a gross New York dumpster.

"Again!?" you shouted, pulling an old banana peel off your face.

You shook your head, lifting yourself out of the dumpster, you frantically looked around for the nearest manhole cover.

After struggling to lift the heavy sheet of metal, you rushed down the ladder and through the familiar tunnel system.

You ran quickly, not slowing down despite how much your body begged you to. You saw the familiar entrance and you rushed into the Lair...

Mikey:

"MIKEY!" you shouted as loud as you could, tears streaming down your face

He shot up from his bed.

Hope filled his baby blue eyes.

You were back.

"(Name)!?" he yelled, frantically searching for your familiar form.

"Mikey!" he spun around to see you launching yourself into his arms.

He caught you with ease, the two of you holding each other as tight as you could.

"I missed you so much." he muttered, burying his head in your neck as the two of you cried.

"I missed you too." you whispered, hands shaking as you processed the moment.

Mikey pulled away for a second, his glossy eyes searching your tear stained face,

"Are you really here? This isn't a dream?"

You shook your head with a hoarse giggle, "No Mikey, I'm real, I'm here! I'm here I pro- mph!"

Mikey cut you off with a kiss,

One so full of emotion it felt like you were letting go of every negative thing you'd ever thought.

When he pulled away, Mikey smiled, "I just needed to make sure." he said,

Then he picked you up, moving the pair of you to his bed for some much needed cuddle time.

"I love you so much, (Name)." he muttered, holding you as close to hid plastron as possible.

"I love you too, Michelangelo."

Leo:

You ran into the Lair, stopping in your tracks, breathless as you and Leonardo made eye contact.

You watched as his eyes widened and he froze,

"Hi." you muttered, not knowing how he would react to your return.

Without saying a word Leo approached you, placing his hand timidly on your cheek.

"You're really here.." he whispered, his voice was soft as his touch.

You nodded and smiled, slow tears making their way down your cheeks, "I am."

Leo took your hands in his own, his eyes searching over ever little detail of your face as he began to lean in for the kiss you had dreamt about while you were away.

The two of you stood there, lips locked until you both pulled away, breathless.

You giggled, leaning in once again-

"(NAME)'S BACK!"

You turned to see Mikey sprinting into the room, and you laughed at his over the top shout.

"Geez, waita ruin their moment Mikey." Donnie sighed, a small smile on his face.

Raph walked in and smacked the orange clad turtle upside the head, "Seriously doofus, give 'em a moment would ya?"

With that, Raph dragged Mikey from the room, Donnie following close behind.

Once they left, Leo pulled you closer to him, leaning in until your faces were mere inches apart,

"Please, don't leave me again." he whispered,

"I don't plan on it, love." you replied, closing the space between you two.

Raph:

You rushed into the Lair, not spotting Raph in the immediate area, you ran over to a shocked Leo.

"(Name)-?"

"Yeah, hi, I'm back. Where's Raph?"

"In his room-"

You ran in the direction of Raphs room, "Thanks, Leo!" you call over your shoulder.

You knock frantically on the closed door, and you heard a low groan on the otherside, "I swear to god, Mikey I'm gonna-"

The door swung open and you threw yourself into Raphs arms, causing him to fall backwards in surprise.

"(Name)? Wha- how-?"

You felt your tears trail slowly down your face as you melted into his timid embrace, "Hi, Raphie." you muttered.

"Are you- you're really here?"

You nodded, smiling up at the shocked terrapin as he moved the two of you into a sitting position, with you seated in his lap.

He wiped away your tears before pulling you into a kiss.

It lasted until neither of you could breath, and you pulled away breathing heavily.

"You're so fuckin' pretty ya know that?" Raph said, chuckling.

You giggled, "Shut up and kiss me again."

"Whatever you want, sweetcheeks."

Raph did not plan on letting you go anytime soon.

Donnie:

You ran straight towards the lab, a suprised Mikey falling off his skateboard when he saw you run by, "(Name)??"

You gave him a quick wave, continuing to where you knew you'd find your love.

"Donnie!" you called as you entered the lab, "Donnie, where are you?"

You heard a loud metallic bang, a quiet "what the hell?" and then "(Name)? (Name), is that you?"

You rushed into his arms as he came into your veiw, he pulled you as close as he possibly could.

He snuggled into your hair, "Please tell me this is real and it's not just a hallucination from lack of sleep."

"It's real. I'm real." you muttered, sniffling quietly, you really did not want to cry right now.

Donnie lifted your face so he could look into your eyes, his hand rubbing away the tears that had begun to fall, "I thought I was never gonna see you again."

You chuckled, pushing you cheek further into his palm, "Oh, ye of little faith."

He pulled you in for a soft kiss, his lips meeting your own in a way that was healing.

You were together again.

.........................................

Sorry this took so long lol, hows your happy ending feel?

Tagging everyone who asked for pt: 2!

@pensaremightierthanswords

@enchanting-bluebelle

@warrior-girl

@aceaoki1316 @princessmads1820

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writers-requiem · 2 months

Text

Lonely Woes & Fatherly Love

Pairing: Hank McCoy x teen!Reader

Genere: Angst, Depression Comfort

Warnings: mentions of past trauma, suicide attempts, abandonment, drug use, violence and abuse

A/N: Hank isn't actually the reader's dad, just a fatherly figure

Your life was a shit show. There was no getting around it.

One disaster after another with almost no room for a reprieve from it all. Constant feelings of anxiety and depression from failed relationships with family and 'friends'. It was a nightmare without an end. Your parents were part of a drug cartel that you wanted no relation with, your first love had a marijuana addiction and died a year later, all your friends were reckless jerks since primary, and your recent ex made your life even more miserable by constantly comparing you to other people and saying they would be better partners but that he had to be stuck with you.

But that wasn't the worst of it, because not once, not twice, but on five different occasions, you were a ransom hostage and were starved, beaten, and harassed in more ways than you cared to count. Eventually it all culminated with you attempting suicide multiple times but each time being saved by a hero or a some stranger. Making matters worse is that you were only between the ages of 4 and 13 during all that time. And now you're 16

Which leads us to today. You sat alone on a park bench, down on your luck. No food, no house or apartment, not even a penny to get those, and the only solace you have is that you had a jacket to keep yourself away from the cold rain which was pouring buckets.

"Just like every other day..." You said in a solemn, bitter tone.

Your stomach rumbled incessantly, desperate for food and water to sate your hunger and thirst. But all you could get were scraps, and not even that could sate you.

"You seem hungry" a kind male voice said, "I know a dry spot to eat at. Follow me."

The man, dressed in a trench coat and fedora, gently helped you to your feet and gently guided you to the place he spoke of.

Once you had arrived at the location, he took off his fedora revealing his blue furry face. You recognized him as Dr. Hank McCoy or Beast. He had saved you a couple of times before. Once from a hostage situation, and the second from one of your suicide attempts.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked, your voice tired and strained from days without rest or nourishment.

"Well, I've been keeping an eye on you for a little while now and saw what's been happening with you" he stated in a matter of fact tone accented with worry, "And it seems that fate hasn't been kind to you."

"Never has been..." you said, voice clearly fading from exhaustion and dehydration.

Hank gently wrapped an arm around you and helped you to sit down in the car which you only now noticed since he had opened the door and got you settled in.

Once in the car, he fastened your seatbelt and took his position on the driver's seat and drove off. To where, you couldn't tell since you fell asleep, finally succumbing to the pull of rest.

When you woke up, you found yourself in a comfy bed in an ornate but not too fancy looking room. You also saw that you were covered in bandages and had a cast and sling for your arm. You also weren't wearing your old rags of clothes and were in a white T-shirt and black shorts. Then the door to the room opened, and there walked in a familiar face.

"Oh thank heaven above, you're awake" Hank said with a relieved smile on his face.

"Where am I?" you asked, understandably confused.

"Welcome to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters" he said, "A place that many like you or I would describe as a new home."

This made your ears perk up. "Home?" you asked with a glimmer of hope and longing in your eyes.

"Yes" he said. He then placed the tray of food to the side and gently held your hand and looked at you like a father would with his son after a traumatic event, "And it's your new home too."

He then picked up the spoon and grabbed some soup with it. It was clear what he was trying to do, so you let him slowly spoon-feed you since your free arm was numb and limp. Strangely, it felt like you were with someone you just wanted to call, 'dad'.

#character x y/n #headcanons #reblog friendly #fanfic #marvel #teenagers #teen reader #sfw fanfic #depression #comfort #father figure #hank mccoy #x-men

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