MultiVillains x Sad!Reader || Drabbles
Plot: When theirs no one else there for you, you let the villains take the job.
Includes: BEN Drowned, Clockwork / Natalie Ouilette, Lucius Malfoy, Negaduck / Jim Starling, Offenderman, Otis B Driftwood, Peter Hale and the Toon Patrol.
Warnings: Heavy angst at first!! Then your dark knight/s come/s and make you less alone. Oh and I also call Greasy a whor* once. Oops.
Notes:
Dedication (The Toon Patrol section specifically, cuz I dunno if like any of the other characters but I KNOW you LOVE the weasels ^^ ): @marinerainbow . We’ve both had a not-so-great week, and you’ve been so wonderful and supportive to me, and so I had you in mind while I wrote this ^^ I really hope you like it, and feel not-so-alone. I’m always here for you ^^ ALSO- you’re a fantastic writer and I want to give back to you!!
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I have no clue how to write Lucius right now so basically HERE, have Jafar with bleached hair. Which I think is close enough XD
Prologue:
Tears begin to cloud your vision as you scroll through your messages for the fifth time... No new texts pop up. No one wants to know if you're okay after how you were acting today... Not your friends, not your parents, not your partner. No one. No one gives a f*ck.
Or they just think you're strong, and you'll deal with it on your own... and that you don't want their help... You sniffle and shut off your phone, leaning your head into your hands, despair sinking in. Which would be entirely your fault. For acting too strong...
But god, you think, rubbing your hot face. Surely one person would check in, at least.
After a minute of staring angrily, tearfully at the wall... you decide, against possibly your far better judgment, to just call your partner. Maybe, since you feel so bad, you can give up your pride just this once and ask for them to come. To come, and sit with you, and just make you feel like someone cares that you're not okay. Because surely, they do.
Of course, they do.
They're just respecting your privacy right now... yeah, that's it. That's why they aren't here already.
Perhaps you wont even have to ask them to come. You'll just call them up, and the tears will leak in through your voice, and they'll offer to come on their own.
That would be nice.
... but the dial tone rings and their practised, staged voice recites the traditional instructions to leave a message. And you bite your lip so hard it hurts.
Beep.
Tightly, your jaw taught, you let go of your lip. "Um- sorry, (Partners name). I was... just... I don't even know if you'll listen to this actually, haha. Who listens to voice mails? Its scary, I know... makes you think you're gonna hear something not-so-great, like uh... the lady from the bank asking you to come talk- which is, um, never good... or even a um, a death threat, or something... okay I guess not that, hopefully... but... " You're babbling- you realise you're babbling. You're quite aware of it- so you quickly straighten your back and move on; Cheeks wet with tears and hot to the touch, and the sniff you take in is loud and gross, but you don't care. "But anyway- in case you do listen to this, um... I'm... I'm... not doing, s-so hot. And, I d-dunno, I just want... god, I'm starting to feel more pathetic with everything I say." The embarrassment sears you right through the chest, burning and hot, and you're suddenly just desperately want them to just read your mind. Or maybe you just want them to throw the phone across the room so it shatters and the message is lost. "I -I cant delete this, can I? Damn... Might as well finish then, huh? Uh, cuz uh... I don't wanna waste your time, or anything. I just... was wondering... if you would- um- come. Just, please... Everything's falling apart, and the e-empty seat beside me is, uh... scaring me. Soo... Please please, just come. I need you. I really need you actually. Pleas- "
Beep.
The dial tone plays again and the humiliating message shoots off to your partners phone, to possibly be heard, possibly ignored... You know if they hear it and they come, which they probably will because they're a good person, you'll just feel worse. Knowing you made them get here, to comfort you... Knowing that evidently you're too unimportant for them to just know, to come get you. Like in the movies.
While at the same time knowing that that's ridiculous and its just your misery talking.
Hugging yourself, you lean back in your chair, setting a tightly laced boot against the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You take a deep, stuttering breath through your nose, and close your eyes...
One glaring question races in your mind, over and over. Why does no one give a damn?
Why does no one give a damn?
Why does no one give a damn?
Why does no one give a damn?
~
BEN Drowned:
Suddenly your phone buzzes loudly under your thigh, and you crack your eyes slightly open.
Should you check what that is? Or have you humiliated yourself enough today? What if its your partner? That last 'what if' catches in your mind, and you sniff- pulling the phone back out and crossing one arm over your stomach to old yourself together, before turning the screen back on.
Its not your partner, you realise with a terrible thud where you heart was. In fact there isn't a message there at all. Rolling your wet eyes, causing a tear to escape and cascade miserably down your cheek, you shake your head. Of course. What a time for a f*cking glitch.
You're just going to tuck the thing back away, when the screen goes black again, prematurely, and what looks to be a finger appears out of the darkness; Tapping the other side of the screen. Eyes widening, you immediately fling the phone away like it burned you, pulling your feet up from the ground and onto your chair like the 'glitch' is a rat or a spider crawling around down there, and wipe your eyes. "f*ck! B-BEN, no!" Not now? Go away, you aren't in the mood!
BEN of course, does not listen, and a moment later he's dragged all 5'5 feet of himself out of the phone and is standing in front of you smirking as you glare up at him. "... what?" You spit, disliking the look on his stupid, smug face.
"... You're cute when you cry."
"Ugh!" Smacking the cushions on either side of yourself out of frustration, you use the new leverage to push yourself out of the chair and turn away from the asshole of an elf- looking for an escape. You just want to sob in your loneliness and get the whole self deprecating thing out of the way. Why does he have to turn up just in time to make everything harder? "Go away! I am in no mood, for this!"
He hesitates at least, but an infuriating response is still something you get, unwarranted. "That, I can tell."
Crossing your arms, you stare silently at the wall on the other side of the room. Before you can come up with something appropriately dramatic to make him leave, you're shocked to your very core when BEN suddenly comes up behind you- and wraps his arms around your middle, gathering you back up entirely against him. Its kind of... warm. And comforting. And so close it leaves no room at all, for you to feel alone in any way.
You turn your head to the side, so you can see him out the corner of your eye. "... what are you doing?" You can feel his fluffy straw-coloured hair against your cheek. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and your eyes blow wide open.
He presses his forehead against the back of yours, and you actually feel his eyelids slip closed against your skull. "... I heard your message... Sweetheart I'm not going anywhere."
Taking in a deep breath through your nose, puffy and teary eyes closing, you turn slowly around in his arms and only open them back up again a crack, to see him. "You weren't exactly who I had in mind... " But you're just too f*cking tired to argue. So you wrap your arms over his shoulders as you wait him his answer- black and red, dripping eyes focused hard on you in a way that's foreign. No one has ever been so focused on your unhappiness.
BEN presses his forehead against yours in such a tender, intimate way that it makes you feel warm and squirmy in the pit of your stomach... in a good way, though. You almost want to kiss him for it. "Well Y/N, I'm what you have. Now," His eyes flicker up to yours, brows narrowing. "What happened?"
You chew on your bottom lip, tears prickling your eyes again now that you aren't focused on something like making him leave you the hell alone. You're back to thinking about all the sh*t, you're dealing with at the moment, and a cry escapes you as you look down- BEN's chest suddenly looking like a magnificent spot to hide.
"... It’s all just too much right now, I can’t!- " You start, begin to sob, stop talking, press your forehead to BEN's chest and he just huge you closer- you don't care if he gets blood on your shirt and he couldn't care less if snot or tears end up on his.
Clockwork / Natalie Ouilette:
Suddenly your window is shoved open unceremoniously and a certain brunette barrel rolls into your living room.
You're too tired and miserable to care, so you just shift so you aren’t facing her. Clocks can go get whatever food she wants, take a damn shower, and then piss off. That's all she needs you for, anyway; The food in your kitchen and the indoor plumbing you pay for.
Focusing a little too much to digging your toes under the couch cushions, just for something else to focus on rather then Clockwork or the tears that are desperate to slip free, you take a shuddering breath-
And she hears it.
Immediately she comes over, a hand on your shoulder to show you that she’s there despite her literally crashing in like an FBI agent without a gun and rounds the back of the couch, to see your face. “Hey, there… Y/N… “ Clocky’s voice pitters out awkwardly when she realises that you’re crying, or trying really hard not to. Its immediately clear that the sight makes her uncomfortable, and you sigh.
“There’s brioche in the kitchen.” Theirs venom in your voice, though you don’t know how it got there. Maybe you just want her to leave.
“… What happened to you?” She suddenly blurts, not-at-all sensitively.
You roll your tired eyes. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
Yeah… yeah, you realise that that is not super convincing, what with your eyes filling with salty water as you speak and your lips wobbling, but you just crave for her to believe it somehow and go away- so badly. “Yeah I don’t think that’s gonna cut it… “She responds, to your utter dismay, causing you to cover your face.
“I am. Just leave it.”
“Nope, I don’t care what kinda healing properties you think sitting alone sobbing pathetically to your cushions have but you got me, now.” Clockwork plops herself onto the couch next to you, so close your feet touch her thigh. She doesn’t stop it there, though. She pick up your legs and spreads them out over her lap fully and scootches in closer to your side. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong. Your family suck? Partner broke up with you? Work a burden? Friends treating you like a burden? What? Come on, tell me.”
“This feels like an interrogation.”
“Then you better start giving me some answers then, huh?” You look up, eyes wide and watery, to see Clocky raise a brow at you; Focused and serious. Sniffling first, you open your mouth to tell her what’s wrong… but come short, when no words come out. You don’t even want to talk about it all, right now. You just want to cry about it- like a big ass baby. Tears start slipping down your cheeks, you go to hide your face again but Clocky interrupts- catching some of your hair in her grip so you stay looking up at her, and tilting her head as her remaining eye softening the tiniest bit. “Tell me now or tell me later, doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere.”
Lucius Malfoy:
Suddenly your phone starts ringing- but not your mobile, sitting tucked under your thigh. No, this is the landline you never use, except for when- “Ugh… “He, calls you.
Dragging yourself up from the couch, you travel across the living room and pick up the phone, press answer and hold it to your ear a you slip back down into another seat; Unable to stay up, you’re so tired. “Mr Malfoy?”
He disagrees with anything more advanced than 1957. So, the bastard - in one of his attempts to get closer to you, - bought you this telephone, and yes. You call it’s a telephone, specifically. There is absolutely no other way to describe it. There’s a curly wire connecting the handheld to the machine (Where the number buttons are, that admittedly make a satisfying click sound when you press them), it’s an odd seafoam colour, and the there is literally. No. screen.
Rolling tired, puffy eyes, you pull a pillow to your chest and let them flutter shut. “Glad I caught you, little lamb. I wanted to extend an invitation to you- there’s a fundraiser being held by the ministry, and I would like you to be there… I just know that the room would be brighter with you on my arm.”
Rubbing your forehead creases out, which seems to be an impossibly task as they just keep coming back, you wince. This is so frustrating! Sniffing, you raise your brows, and ask; “And will Narcissa, be there?” Why won’t he get it? You do not want to be his f*cking side piece! -
“No, of course not-”
“Mhmmm… “Of course.
“But as I’ve said before, Narcissa has no qualms with my pursuing you, or our relationship.” Yep, sure. Sounds like the go-to lies of a faithless husband. God, this is not what you need right now… “She has her own you, if I am not mistaken the reasoning for that young man the other day being over so early in the morning… exiting her chambers… “
“Yeah, that’s nice Mr Malfoy.” The sarcasm drips off of your tongue, for you do not need to be regaled with tales of the Malfoy’s bizzarro family life right now- or ever. “But we do not have a relationship. I have someone-”
“I am working on that error, believe me when I say that.”
You stop moving, the realisation that your partner is not here when you need them dawning on you again. Instantly, useless tears fill your eyes up again and you have to cover your mouth- but a pathetic squeak manages to break free, first.
“… Y/N?”
“Y/N, are you still there?”
“What was that noise?”
“Are you quite alright??”
After you don’t respond for a good minute or so to his increasingly concerned questions, sobbing silently against your hand and the phone pressed to your ear, Lucius manages to figure out what the faint whimpering sounds are and falls quiet for a little bit; Doesn’t leave, just listens. Just stays there, for some reason. Listens to your very soft crying.
A few minutes pass, before he speaks again. “… Y/N, is there anything you would like me to do for you? I assume this is not about my advances- they’ve never affected you this way before- but if someone else is bothering you, I assure you, I would leave no trace of my interference if I were to… shall we say… take care, of them? I have connections quite high in the ministry, and it would be all too easy.”
Miraculously, a snort bubbles to your chest; A tiny smile fighting to stretch across your lips at Lucius’ words. You rub your face, sniffling and still crying a little. “That won’t be necessary, Mr Malfoy.”
“I really insist, I’ve got quite a talent for taunting- “
“Lucius.” That stops him - you calling him by his first name. You don’t do that. It makes you seem close, which you maintain that you aren’t, but just this once… you might just need to make an exception, -, and you take a deep breath. “Would you please just be quiet? And stay with me?”
“… of course.” He says it as if it’s a given, like he’s surprised you felt you needed to ask, and you have to stop biting you lip lest the sob that wracks your body next causes you to shed blood.
There are some ruffling sounds on his end, as if he’s siting down now and getting comfortable for the duration, and you just start to cry harder.
Maybe you picked the wrong person. Because he’s here, more or less, and your partner is god-knows-where. Because he called you- and you’re always calling them. Every time.
Maybe you should call Lucius some more.
Negaduck / Jim Starling:
Suddenly the familiar noises of someone rifling through your cabinets start up in your kitchen, and you sigh; Resting your face in your palms and rubbing your aching forehead. Perfect timing, Jim. Just spectacular.
Maybe if you stay quiet, he’ll just leave.
So you close your eyes, and focus on your breathing. Telling yourself that you need to pull it together. You need to buck up. Its up to you whether you’re happy or not so just be. happy.
Oh god its useless.
Then some cushions get squashed, and you feel the couch dip beside you, and you want to groan out of frustration. “Why hello there, Y/N… To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Got off work earlier. Ergo, I’m here.” Just in time to meet the thief that’s been raiding my kitchen every time I go to work. Just my luck- it’s exactly who I suspected. Luckily you manage to manipulate your voice so it isn’t so waterlogged, or high. And while your face is in your hands, he won’t know you’re crying… right? Right. You have to believe that.
“Wonderful! I was getting bored, today. So! Tell me- “You feel here him, rather then see him, lean back and throw his feet up onto your coffee table. You resist the urge to get up and shove them off. “How are all those bozo’s going, at work? You were my manager, so- “
Deadpanned, your interrupt. “-I was the companies secretary and just so happened to manage your file when you were legally alive- “
“- So…“ There’s a threatening lilt to his new, gravelly voice this time and you’re sure he sets you with a wuthering look, and maybe he even thinks about the dirty chainsaw he likely has leant up against your couch, but he’s still the same old self-centred loon as he always was in his centre and you couldn’t be scared of him even if he held that weapon up to your neck. “Tell me! How are they failing, now that I’m not part of any of their projects anymore?”
They’re doing well, but you don’t feel like getting into that conversation. You’re too tired, emotionally and physically. Wrung out and left to dry. Finally, you suck in a deep breath and straighten up, the hunched over pose having been hurting your back, and let go of your face. “Look, I don’t know… ”
“Woah… “You turn your head to look at him, and see him looking surprised at you; Crazy eyes wide behind the, now black, mask and mouth open slightly. “The hell happened to you?”
Ever so eloquent, with his words, isn’t he?
“Doesn’t matter, does it? Just finish your… “Glancing at what’s in his hands, you give a grave sigh. “My favourite chocolates. And get out.”
“No.” As soon as you go to push off the couch and go to your room, Negaduck grabs one of your wrists in a tight grip and forces you to stay where you are; At attention. “Stay. Tell me who to kill.”
WOW- “Well THAT took a left turn!... “You exclaim, immediately, looking at the man with bug-eyes. What the hell?? “You’re not killing anyone!”
“Where’s that partner of yours? Shouldn’t they be here right now? Isn’t that what… significant others… “He says that, ‘significant others’ in such a disgusted voice it may have made you laugh in another moment where you aren’t feeling like total garbage. “are for??”
Your throat gets clogged, at that, and you look away from him. “I guess not.”
“Then that’s who I need to kill- “
“Hey!” Immediately you whip back around and grab him when he gets up, tugging him back down to the couch this time. “You will not!”
“People always disappoint. That’s all they are- disappointments. They can’t be trusted for anything. They have to be eradicated! - “
Reaching, you take hold of Negaduck’s arms, grounding him. He was losing what little of himself he had left. “Hey! Calm down.”
He does. He shuts up. And just stares. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, there’s no emotion in his face under that red, wide-brimmed hat. For a moment you just stare at each other, you trying to decide your next move, before suddenly he lurches forward and wraps his arms around you.
Chest-to-chest, his hands in your hair and clutching you to him, his head bent over your shoulder, the hat brushing against the top of your head hiding you from the world, Negaduck… hugs you. Clings to you. Keeps you close, and… safe.
Unable to help it, you wrap your arms around his back and return the hug; Weak to the unexpected affection. You sigh into his shoulder, closing your eyes. “… you know I’m a person, right?”
“You’re much better then that.”
Offenderman:
“Well, THAT was sad.” The familiarly oddly lyrical voice of Offender suddenly fills your ears, and you immediately close your eyes. Sighing in annoyance. Of course he’s here to have heard – and probably witnessed, - that less than proud moment. And the redness of your face to prove it happened.
Opening your eyes up again, you find him standing right in front of you, and your eyes follow up his body to his face, from the belt buckle staring you too-close in the face, to the lapels of his coat, to the hat on his head, before glaring at where you assume he sees you from. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, you know I love our visits~ “He chuckles, turning his head to take a look around the room; That ever-present, lazy smirk cemented to his sharp mouth. “Mind my asking what the hell that message was about? It really was pathetic- And I didn’t take you for that type.”
“Yes, I do mind.” Whenever Offender is around, despite all the time he’s spent with you and not hurt you, you can’t help how your heart speeds up and how the freezing cold fear sets in. It really doesn’t help your current state.
He huffs, in amusem*nt, before twisting around and falling, somehow gracefully, into the couch beside you; Throwing one leg over the other so you can see the bottom side of one of his boots. Except for being worn in the bottom, they’re perfectly clean. “Well, that’s just too bad.”
“Ugh,” Leaning forward, you press your face into your hands; Elbows digging into your knees. Your exhaustion and the fear duke it out inside you and you just end up feeling even more gross than before. “Nothing. Its just… sh*t… “
“How articulate.” Sarcasm coats his words, and you groan.
“… I’m too tired to put it all into words, right now… “
For a moment theirs just silence, and you find yourself letting go of your face in favour of leaning against the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling. You know Offender is looking at you, a tight frown etched across his mouth and jaw taught, but you find that its safer not to look at him.
Then he suddenly takes a strand of your hair and tugs it/taps a finger against the back of your head to get your attention. You turn and look, eyes round in curiosity. What?
His voice comes out calm, for once. Theirs not a lick of seduction or amusem*nt to be heard in it; He sounds focused, instead. Calm, and focused, and serious. You can’t help but listen closely, in a sort of trance. Honestly, you would describe the feeling as akin to being… compelled. “I’m going to stay here with you, until you feel better. You’re gonna order ice cream and I’m going to make up some mac and cheese, and we’re gonna watch a movie you haven’t seen before.” You feel a thud in your lap, and look down with a heavy feeling head to find you comfiest socks folded in a bundle, there. When you look up, Offender’s already pounced up and is heading to the kitchen.
After a moment, you nod slowly. Then, coming back to yourself, you tilt your head to the side; A tiny grin playing at your lips. “Mac and Cheese?”
Hands in his pockets, he turns half back around. “Oh, sweetheart. There ain't a better food to pair with misery in the world, then Mac and Cheese. And if there is, a sure haven’t found it.” He shrugs back, grinning once again. “Besides, it’s my specialty.” Then he points to your socks. “Put those on, and though as much as I’d love for ‘em to be the only thing you have on… “Your blush is dark, matching your glare. “I suggest you grab on your favourite hoodie, too, before I get back.”
Otis B Driftwood:
When Otis suddenly wanders through the feral looking living room, clearly having heard your message but avoiding talking about it- in fact, he seems to be avoiding looking at you the best he can, to boot. sh*t.
Quickly wiping at your eyes, you get up to your feet, tuck your phone away in your pocket and face away from the direction Otis is in. Escape is imminent-
“Huh?” Suddenly a rough-feeling hand grabs you by the elbow and you twirl around to find Otis suddenly right behind you. Theirs that perma-scowl on his rat-ish, but yet somehow handsome face, but theirs an odd softness in his eyes that you don’t recognise. He’s never looked at… anyone, that way before. “O- “
“Don’t talk.” He rolls his eyes, flopping down onto the couch you just vacated, and yanking you down not-at-all gently close beside him. You’re just wide eyed, and shocked, by all this so you let him and keep your mouth shut like he told you to. “I don’t even wanna f*cken know what sh*t that even was I overheard just then.”
Thinking about what the hell his intentions are, and staying silent for a moment as you do so, you get increasingly confused and can’t help but to take in a deep, stuttering breath in and open your mouth to ask-
But he cuts you off, before you can even make a sound. “I said shut the f*ck up.” You’re still in a fragile state so your eyes immediately fill up with tears at him snapping so harshly at you, before you can stop yourself- despite the embarrassment of crying in front of Otis. “Oh- f*ck- sh*t- Did I say you could f*cken cry??”
“Sorry!! Its not you- I-I’m just- It hasn’t been a good day, and- “Suddenly you’re sobbing, and your elbow sneaks out of his grip in order for you to hide your ugly cries from Otis’ view. He just moves his hand down to your waist, watching in half-annoyance and half-helplessness. “… I’m s-sorry… “
“Look- Y/N- f*ck, could you cry quiet for a goddamn second?” He then sighs heavily and rolls his eyes deeply when you’re unable to do so. “Gee, thanks for the cooperation… Anyway- like I was saying- I don’t care what f*cken happened today, okay? I don’t. I don’t give one roving f*ck,” The words are so fervent coming out of his mouth, you can’t help peering up at him with watery eyes to see what he looks like- and it’s like he’s absolutely desperate, to convince you that he’s heartless. But- “But I aint going anywhere. So shut up, calm down, and buck up- in that order. So I can leave.”
Your eyes widen, disbelief filling you at his words. What does that mean?
Being too tired and too sad to argue though for the moment at least, you slowly shift forward and lean into his shoulder, heavy lids finally getting too close as Otis cautiously moves his big, scary hand up to your back- patting it a couple times, quite awkwardly. You sigh, because when Otis is quiet like this his presence is rather comforting, surprising enough. It feels like you’re kind of special- getting careful, almost-soft-feeling attention like this from a rough, cruel man like him. And if all you have to do to keep him like that is to stay quiet, then you can do that. For a little while, at least.
After a few minutes, he shifts; Rolling his shoulders back uncomfortably, and you look up with big, round eyes to see him laying back on the couch, long-ass anime legs spread out past you- muddy boots on the cushions. “C’mere.” As you look at him, he gestures shortly for you to come closer, to lay with him, and after a hesitant moment you do as told. Getting down beside him and resting your head on his shoulder as one of his dirty, sinewy arms wraps around your waist to keep you from slipping off the side of the couch. Your legs lay beside his, pressing against eachother in fact, and when you look up at his face you see his eyes close. He tastes his mouth a couple times, like he’s going to take a nap, and the tiniest urge to smile tingles at the corners of your lips.
He’s odd. Cold and evil and, often-times heartless.
But apparently, he’s- also- a damn good cuddler.
Peter Hale:
Note- You live with Derek. You two are friends and decided to just be roommates so neither of you ended up homeless, and somehow Peter got hold of a copy of the key- much to both your dismay.
“Now, what’s this?” You jump nearly right out of your skin, an entirely unpleasant experience in the state you are already in, when none other than Peter Hale appears in the doorway. Why is he here!?
Tilting his head towards the doorframe, he puts on a very fake concerned face. “Someone cry wolf?”
Ugh. Huffing, before then immediately sniffling which totally puts off your whole vibe, you get up and head towards the doorway he’s still in. “Whatever Peter, I’m going to my room- “
“Hold on, there, little wolf.” You’re just passing him by when he turns with you and you stop, because he’s just going to follow you if you ignore him. Peaking into your face, Peter actually frowns. “This isn’t because he me, is it?”
Sniff. “Not everything is about you, Peter.”
“Had to check.” He holds up his hands in surrender. Then gestures for you to follow him back into the livingroom, and patting the couch next to him when he goes in and sits down. “Come on, tell Uncle Peter everything.”
“No way in hell.” Your tone is dark. Is he making fun of you??
Huffing himself this time, he rolls those pretty eyes of his backwards into is head, and rolls his shoulders. Finally, he looks at your straight, and raises his brows; Pointedly patting the couch cushion again. “Sit. I’m not teasing you here, as much as I love doing that. I’m genuinely concerned- the ugly crying, the snot, the back talk- you’re acting like Derek. And that’s never a good sign, now is it?” Gripping the doorframe, you look at him very cautiously- still conscious of his douche-y nature. “Not even if you’re Derek.”
Sighing, you decide to go sit down - in the armchair across from him, rather than where he indicated which makes him roll his eyes again, - just to get him to shut up.
For a few moments it works, as Peter just folds his hands into his lap almost like he’s some therapist and just stares at you, assumedly hoping you’ll explain why you’re such a mess of your own accord. Well- he was wrong.
Eventually sighing, Peter shrugs. “Fine. My turn again, huh? Okay then- and you people say you don’t like me when I talk. Hypocrites.” Focusing on you again, your arms crossed over your chest, one leg folded over the other, eyes puffy and red and vibe all-too fragile as your fingers twitch on your arms, his eyes carefully soften. “Tell me, sweetheart, what happened?”
Letting out a deep breath you hadn’t known you were holding slightly, slowly as your shoulders relax, you look away from the older, eviller, werewolf. “… It’s just been a long week… “A really… really, long week…
Your nose starts to prickle, saying it out loud again. God, are you going to cry again in front of Peter?
Eyes flickering back to him, you see him looking seriously at you; No humour in his face as he looks at you in this state for whatever reason. Almost like he cares. “I’m not going to insult you if you cry, you know. I’m not that evil.”
Apparently you are going to cry in front of Peter. Eyes filling up instantly and bubbling over again with tears, you hug yourself, chewing on your bottom lip; Feeling all too cold under his gaze. “I thought… I just thought they… “Your partner, the one that probably wouldn’t even listen to your message. “Would be here, when I’m… like this… “
Surprising you, Peter suddenly gets up, taking the step between you away and gesturing for you to stand up. You do as gestured, blinking at him uncertainly as his fingers find their places around your upper arms. “… well you’ve got me. That’ll have to do, until they get their ass into gear- okay?”
You find yourself nodding, surprisingly. Despite the second part of that statement striking you, horribly, as being unlikely. “… You don’t have to… Derek’ll be home soon- “
“Derek is about as comforting as an inflamed orphanage.” If you weren’t so close to sobbing again, you would have snorted at that. “And besides, you’re not a hindrance to me in any way, at least right now,… so… I don’t mind.” One of his hands comes up to your face, curling around the back of your neck and brushing a thumb across your cheek comfortingly. You’re shocked at how guiltlessly good it feels.
So you then hide your face in his chest, the smell of his leather jacket filling your nostrils, and start to cry in the odd sanctuary of Peter f*cking Hale’s arms.
Human!Toon Patrol:
A sudden, stuttering gasp licks at your ears for a moment and you frantically wipe at your eyes, whipping around like a deer caught in headlights to see Psycho and Wheezy standing in the doorway looking wide eyed and caught. “Are you c-c-c-crying??” Psycho asks, though the answer seems to be obvious as Wheezy relaxes instantly back to his laid-back self, getting over the shock quick and resting all his wait back on one hip as he takes a drag; Watching Psycho and you.
You, on the other hand, are the opposite to calm. Shaking your head, you blatantly deny your state. “No! I’m f-fine! Don’t worry! I-I’m just headed out to the market!- Um… “ Where’s your bag? f*ck, nothing is going right… Eyes flickering around you as you sweep off the couch, everywhere but at the two men, you don’t even notice when they both cross the room and end up on either side of you. So you jump, when Wheezy puts a hand on your arm. “Sweet’eart, maybe sit back down… “Its not a request, it’s a suggestion. One you just don’t have any patience for, because you know if you stop then you’re going to start crying again and you can’t risk that, so you pull your arm out of his gentle grip and turn-
Coming up immediately against Psycho, who gives a little waive. He tilts his head the side, insane hair not moving an inch and even crazier eyes spinning in circles- hypnotising you along with his high, demented voice. “Why don’t you sit?” He repeats- and its not request either. Psycho’s words are a demand- he expects you to do so.
Unsure, you start to shake your head. “Um- “
“Come on, Y/N.” Wheezy goes again, and you’re put even more on edge because he’s never this pushy. Usually, when you say no, he lets it go. It doesn’t mean much to him. He just shrugs; But now he asks you twice. Maybe he’d ask you thrice, if you turned him down again. “Y’don’t have to tell us nothing, just sit down. Y’know if you don’t, Psycho’ll be up all our asses for the rest of the day.”
He makes it about Psycho, about his needs and not yours, and your racing mind takes a breather. Your even quicker heartbeat slows down to a calmer drawl too, when you indeed sit down.
Wheezy sits down beside you but Psycho stays standing, chewing on his bottom lip as he fights to curb the broad smile on his face.
You take some deep breaths and they watch you do it, before Wheezy offers you ne of his prized smirks and you wrinkle your nose at him- getting a giggle out of Psycho and a smokers pant out of Wheezy.
Out of all the Toon Patrol… you suppose it could have been worse in terms of who found you like this…-
You spoke too soon.
“Miércoles! What did you two gordito’s do!?- “Immediately you see Wheezy roll his eyes up into his head at the unwelcome intrusion to the silence, taking a nice deep puff of a cigarette plucked from his rolled-up shirt sleeve. Good thing, too, because that smoke was very close to catching his button-up on fire- Suddenly Greasy is in front of you, and you and Psycho look up at him with wide eyes as the family whor* looks you over in panic. Promptly he looks angrily at either man- the one sat beside you and the one hanging over you in a straight-jacket. “What happened to them!?”
“They were crying~” Psycho sings out unnervingly, and Greasy squints.
“I see that loco but why!?- “It’s clear he blames his teammates for it, but you don’t have the energy nor the strength at the moment to do anything but look on in shock- luckily, Wheezy seems to have it under control.
“Don’t ask us- we found ‘em like this.” Wheezy shrugs.
Or maybe Wheezy does not have this under control.
Greasy settles down sitting far-too-close next to you, more cuddling you then sitting with you, and you just let your shoulders drop; Saying nothing. Tears start to leak out of your eyes again and your lips wobble. “… mi amore… tell me, what’s wrong?”
Just as you’re sniffling and silently starting to weep again at all the fuss over you, and the men all start to panic in their own ways - Psycho humming and twisting his razor around and around in between his fingers, Greasy’s eyes blowing wide and mouth falling open, and Wheezy taking in a deep breath of oxygen through his nose, -, Smartass strolls into the room. “What- “
Immediately he zeroes in on the scene, looks as if all he wants to ask in that moment is for just one day (One weekend. One Saturday where he doesn’t have sh*t smeared across his simple life. ONE!), and promptly turns to leave the room again with a silent huff- but the littler man quite literally bumps into Stupid and his round belly on the way, and curses. No escape now. He’s been seen.
“Duh- what’s happening in here??”
Psycho, wandering around the couch and tracing the back with his knife, pipes up first. “We don’t know!~ “
“What the hell d’ya mean you don’t know??” Their leader spits, and you start actually sobbing- Greasy immediately wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his shoulder, not at all minding that you’re sobbing all over his suit. “The kid is sobbing on the damn furniture- y’havent asked why??”
Wheezy sighs. “We asked, boss, they just haven’t been able to answer.”
His face twisting into a determined scowl, Smartass swallows down his hesitation and stomps right over the fray- the only kind of fray he’s unsure about and would really rather steer clear from. Hands perched authoritatively on his hips; Smartass stops right in front of you and leans directly over you. “Alright Y/N, stop cryin’ a second. Come on, let’s talk like men.”
… All the men in the room stop to look at you. You lift your head off of Greasy’s shoulder, just to flash Smartass a terrible glare, then cover your face bury yourself in the green fabric again. It’s the only safe place in a room with vultures like this. Smartass’ jaw drops.
“Duh… boss, that was insensitive.”
“Shut up!” Smartass crosses his arms, tapping a foot impatiently against the ground at an increasingly fast pace. “Whatever. You give it a try. None a’ the rest of us have been able to fix the kid- ”
Greasy looks deeply offendedly at Smartass. “Hey, I am a magnificent consoler, boss, and I deeply resent you saying that in my presence- “Smartass raises his eyebrows back, in disbelief.
“Oh yeah? Then what the hell are they just spunk’en up your best suit, for?” At that, you lean your face away from Greasy, worried that Smartass is right, and you really are disgusting- but Greasy quickly pulls you back and pats the back of your head comfortingly; Flashing a glare at his boss before pressing his cheek to the top of your head, muttering Spanish assurances to you… a tiny, almost invisible smirk on his mouth.
Wheezy is the only one who catches it, and groans- covering his face with a hand. A creepy opportunist, that guy is…
Then Greasy all of a sudden feel’s air replace your body in his arms, and gasps; Looking up with wide eyes to find Stupid has snatched you. You yelp, and grabbing onto the giant man’s shirt as you peer down at the ground at least 5 feet below you. “S-Stupid!!”
“Stupid give them BACK!- “ Greasy hisses below, turned fully around on the couch.
“Shut up, idiot, the last thing they need when they’re in a funk is f’you t’ be copping a feel.” Smartass mutters, only glancing at his teammate. Greasy gapes, as if he would never, turning to Wheezy for a defence, but the other man just shakes his head. Nope.
“Not gonna happen, man.”
Psycho nods, his tongue sticking out a little bit between sharp teeth. “They’re right!~ Hehehehehe… ”
Greasy grumbles, crossing his arms. “Fine. Traidors.”
Stupid hums, holding you up in the safety of his arms effortlessly, and nuzzles into your hair. It brings an instantly warm and fuzzy feeling to your chest, and your grip on his clothing loosens. Your heavy eyelids fall closed, and you give in to the cuddles, resting your head against his chest. “Duh, everything will be alright!~ “
Honestly, up high in the large man’s arms, it does feel like it will be. It doesn’t feel like anything could touch you there, but him. Even when he sits down in an armchair, you let yourself relax against him. Stupid won’t let anything get to you, in his arms there.
You fall asleep to faint arguing, the sound of Stupid’s heartbeat close in ear, and Psycho humming a little further away in the other.
