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Forget-me-Lots - Wilson
Word Count: 821 | Pairing: Wilson Percival Higgsbury x Nondescript Female Character
Summary: While enjoying a cup of weeds, Wilson begins to realize that perhaps the best solution to his stress isn't simply forgetting about his problems.
The scientist sat alone with his cup of tea, and he thought of her.
The woman he had left behind, fending for herself in that shoddy cabin while he tore a hole through space. The woman that, for all he knew, had already changed her life and moved on. It was an easier thought to live with than believing she would mourn. That she would spend her days longing for a man who left her, for a man no longer there. He had always wondered how he'd managed to win her heart. With him gone, perhaps she'd find somebody new.
He took another sip once the idea crossed his mind, letting the bitter taste cloud the details until all he felt was aimless remorse. He couldn't deny the effect those weeds had in calming him down. It was easy not to worry when it was easy to forget. The tension in his mind eased as the floral scent filled his senses, already wondering just what it was that had bothered him in the first place.
It was his wife. No, fiancée? Had they tied the knot? Had he even proposed? He was sure that he has given her the ring, or at least... Yes, he clearly remembered taking the box from his cabinet drawer. Or was it the compartment in his desk? The ring itself, it was made of silver. Platinum? Steel. Or was it gold?
He didn't know.
The worries he'd tried to wipe away were only coming back in full force, compounded with a looming sense of uncertainty in the depths of his soul. How much of his life had he lost? How many cups of that wretched flower had he brewed? He had never stopped to notice its impact before, simply thinking of her as 'his wife' and nothing more, but the more that he tried to picture her face, the more blurry the details became.
Did her hair rest over her shoulders, or did it stop by her chin? He remembered a time where it went all the way down her back. She told him why she cut it, then; it was too warm. Too heavy, perhaps. Was that right? It could've been both. Either way, she hated having to curl it for events. Or did she like it? That she thought it was pretty, yet tedious? It was something involving those curlers, nonetheless. That was all he knew. He couldn't remember if the plastic was blue or pink.
He couldn't picture her face. He couldn't replicate her voice. The only thing he could come up with was a hazy silhouette, a vague, human figure in his mind that he was starting to forget. He was losing sight of their memories. Losing track of their quality time. All he held onto was the abstract way things felt, how joyous it was to be with her and how painful it was to be apart. He knew that he loved her. She made sure he knew she felt the same. Was that not enough? Was it really enough?
He poured his cup into the grass. The thought of drinking it made him sick. It may have eased his nerves in the moment, but what then? What was his goal? If he continued to erase those kinds of thoughts, if there came a day where he could think of her without an ounce of regret, would that not mean that he had fallen out of love? Wilson had a choice in front of him, then. To leave it all and forget, or to stay with her and mourn. It felt unbelievable that he'd chosen anything less.
In a sense, he wanted to welcome the pain. It was a sign that he still had a heart after all. The world that they lived in was one of magic and mystery, of so many radically ludicrous things that it was hard to keep his proverbial feet on the ground. He'd done nothing but gun for survival with every season that passed. For once, he needed to stop and remember that he was only one human man. One man caught up in the tangles of love. It almost felt like a different life. He struggled to see the man in those memories as himself.
But as he sat there on the ground, staring at the sky, staring at the clouds, feeling the breeze and the way it blew through his tall hair... He thought of her. As his heart ached, he thought of her. He thought of them, of the young couple that shone so blindingly bright. He thought of the way they'd grown older. The way they'd promised, so naïvely, that their love would never fade. He nearly smiled as he realized it still rang true. That even on the other side, he still had faith that she loved him, too.
The thought alone brought him far more comfort than the tea.
#don't starve#don't starve fanfic#don't starve fanfiction#oneshot#1000 words or less#wilson percival higgsbury#wilson higgsbury#wilson dst#fanfiction
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Alex (SDV) - Sweet Tooth
Word Count: 453
"Oh! That stand actually works?"
Alex turned once he heard the loud, unmistakable hiss of a minecart, offering his signature smile in return for a somewhat frazzled grin from the town’s newest arrival. She wiped the soot off of her face while clambering out of her seat, readjusting the straps of her bag as several pounds of rock pressed against her back. "Hey, farm girl. Coming from the mines?"
"What gave it away?" She watched him lean against the counter as she approached, nearly motioning to do the same until she remembered the patches of slime still on her sleeves. She made a show of rolling them up before leaning in his face as well. "Dirty clothes not bothering you this time?"
"Hey, different people, different tastes. And this is pretty regular for you."
She raised a brow. "Meaning...?"
"Meaning," he threw right back, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "You're the only one I know that can make all... this... kind of work."
"Maybe you should join me next time, then. See if it starts growing on you too."
"Listen, you've got your thing, I've got mine. I'm plenty busy as it is."
She looked down to hide a laugh, pretending to clear her throat while turning to the signs. "Ice cream's more your speed, huh?" He shrugged and she hauled herself over to the proper front of the booth. "I didn't know this place still ran."
"Only in the summers. You're the first customer this year."
"That means I get a discount, right?"
"Nice try. It's 250g, even for all the pretty girls." He clicked the scooper a couple times while opening the tins, all freshly churned and untouched after being empty since last year. "So what'll it be? It should be good this time around, considering half of it's from your farm."
"Wait, you made this?"
"Yeah? Grandma had a machine, so it was just finding the recipes..." He looked back up once he noticed her stare, clicking the scooper again to distract from his reddening face. "What?"
Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to picture it. This cocky, arrogant little jock, trading in his varsity for an apron just to bake with his grandma. Carefully measuring milk and sugar to try and find the perfect blend. The corners of her mouth threatened to twitch into a grin. "...Nothing," she dismissed through tight lips, resisting the urge to ask if he'd teach her someday. "I'll get one of each. Four scoops."
"Sweet tooth, huh? Me too. Good choice." She tossed a few coins in the tip jar before taking the towering cone, watching his smile subconsciously widen at the brush of their fingertips. "See you around."
"Mm. You've got a new regular."
#fluff#stardew valley#alex sdv#alex stardew valley#stardew alex#fanfiction#oneshot#slice of life#500 words or less#this guy was raised by evelyn of course he knows how to make sweets
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a little brighter - h|a
Word count - 360
He put a hand over his mouth as his eyes struggled to stay open, wandering into the kitchen to see someone already up. The team had rented out an entire place to stay during their trip. He was against it at first, thinking that it was just a matter of time before they caused some kind of chaos, but seeing her standing in front of the opened window was enough for to forget about it all. Everything was worth it in a single wordless moment.
He finished yawning and walked over to lightly hold her sides, easily resting his head on top of hers as his hands slowly moved forwards. She quietly set down the mug of tea she'd been sipping on to place a hand on his forearm. "Good morning to you too."
Her soft voice only earned a mumble in response, making her smile to herself as she leaned slightly against his chest. He held her just a little tighter, about to fall asleep again right then and there. "You should go back to bed if you're tired," she soothed quietly enough to nearly lull him off to sleep. "Practice isn't until noon."
"You know they'll make us do some bullshit before then." He sighed and forced his eyes open by just enough to look at her, moving his face to her shoulder and nesting comfortably beside the crook of her neck. "Besides. If you're here, I'm here. Just give me a couple minutes."
"Take as long as you need." She turned to leave a gentle kiss against his cheek before turning her gaze back over to the window to sipped her tea. They didn't say another word. He was comfortable standing with her, letting his guard all the way down while she enjoyed the peace and quiet of a Monday morning. Hers were always so impossibly busy.
She never got a chance to feel secure, much less relaxed, yet there he was giving her both. Loving her even when she didn't say a thing. Standing and waiting for her to do absolutely nothing. All he did was savor the company, and she loved his just as dearly.
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insomnia - m|y
Word count: 456
I can't sleep.
I stared blankly at the ceiling while she chose to lay on her side, back turned to me as I struggled to fall asleep. I sighed and placed a hand over my eyes to try and force them into staying shut. I didn't even know what was keeping me up. The room felt fine. I wasn't stressed. Having her beside me was like a shortcut to a quiet night, but even that wasn't enough to calm me down enough to sleep.
I couldn't tell how long I'd been laying there by the time something broke the silence. "Hey..." I heard her mumble tiredly, the blankets shifting as she pulled them further up. "Are you still awake...?"
I moved closer to hear her better. "Yeah, I'm up." My throat felt dry from the late hour.
She sighed heavily once she heard my voice, shoulders relaxing visibly. "Do you feel cold in here, or is that just me? I can't fall asleep."
"You're cold?" I repeated. She nodded with a slight hum. I blinked a couple times in confusion, feeling a little warm in all honesty. "Do you want me to ask for more blankets?"
"No, that'll take too long." Her head lowered a little more, curling in on herself to try and conserve heat. "Just come closer."
"Like this?" I placed a hand on her shoulder and slowly ran it along her arm, reaching her hand once I was close enough for our clothes to brush.
"Mm. Closer."
"Still?"
"Clo~ser."
It wasn't until my chest was flat against her back that I realized what she was doing, making a noise and laughing tiredly as she started to smile. "You know you could've just asked me for this, right?" I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her against me as I leaned to leave a soft kiss by her neck. "Don't make me guess."
Her arms rested over my own as she settled more comfortably against my chest. "You were tired today. I didn't want to bother you."
"So you'd rather bother me at two in the morning?"
"I didn't think it would keep me up." She turned her head to try and see me as best she could, the outlines fuzzy in the dark as she pressed a kiss to what she thought was my jaw. It strayed a little to my cheek. "But I guess I should've known better. I still hate staying in hotels."
"You need to get over that someday." I sighed as my face buried against her pillow. "But I'm still here until you do. Get some rest."
I kissed the top of her head for good measure and she gave me a tired hum. "Goodnight."
"Mm, goodnight."
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spectator - f|m
Word count: 385
I sat beside her as she quietly sipped her drink, holding the can so tightly between her hands that it started to dent. It didn't take much to realize what was on her mind. There were only ever the same few things that felt out of her hands. "You know," I started just to snap her out of her thoughts, watching the way her eyelids fluttered before turning her gaze to me. "You'll be fine whether I'm in the stands or not."
"Ah... I know." Her grip tightened until she forced herself to sigh, an uneven smile on her lips as she stared down at the ground. "Is it really that obvious?"
"You've been shaking since earlier." I set down my can before reaching for hers, replacing it with my hand as her fake smile disappeared. She gripped my palm tightly enough to break my heart. "Listen," I tried more seriously, voice growing softer once I had her full attention. "I promise, you'll be okay. You get this nervous every time, and you're amazing every time. This won't be anything different."
My free hand lifted to tuck her hair behind her ear, about to lean in and give her a little more when her dark eyes drifted my way. She saw the way I froze in place and let out a sigh as her head fell onto my shoulder. "I know you're right, but I can't help it. Even when I try."
I opened my mouth to try and reassure her more until I felt the way her elbow hooked with mine. She held me closer to her side by subtly hugging my arm, keeping her head down so that I wouldn't see her face. I wished I knew how to make her feel proud to lift it up again. "It's enough for you to try," is what I said after a pause, turning my head to gently kiss the side of hers before leaning against her crown. "I'm not here to judge."
"Have I ever told you just how much I love you for that?" My posture straightened by just enough for her to notice, earning a quiet laugh that quickly helped them relax. "Thank you," she added with a faint smile, thumb pressing gently against my own. "I think I needed that."
"Anytime."
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thinking of her - h|a
Word count: 706
I laid flat on my back and stared blankly at the ceiling, blowing away a cloud of vapor as my thoughts drifted elsewhere. They always went to the same place. I used to try and stop it. At some point, I just gave up. I wasn't going to move on. I told myself that I couldn't. It had to be one of the most shameful feelings on Earth to be hung up on an ex-girlfriend. Knowing exactly why I missed that girl so much was only fuel for the fire.
She was what held me together. The angel sitting on my shoulder, whispering right in my ear and sorting through my cluttered mind. I couldn't get over just how generous she was. How much patience she extended for my sake. I would think about the way she held my hands, clenching my empty ones into fists every time I missed that tender feeling. Knowing that she wanted me for me. Gripping me tight and squeezing my palms whenever I tried to let go. She had this way of seeing through me, of reading my thoughts and knowing whether or not I really wanted her to leave. It almost felt like she could read my mind, but at the end of the day, she couldn't.
And that's what broke us.
She wasn't psychic. She didn't know. The kinds of things I said to her, from what I didn't mean to what I should've kept inside, were things she never needed to hear. I knew full well that there was already so much she had to deal with. I had no right to be another problem on her plate. I tried to tell her she was better off without me, and she held on every time she saw through my false lies, but the one time where I was lying the hardest was the one time she finally gave up and ran. She let me go. She disappeared. It was what I deserved.
I wondered if she thought of me. If she ever missed having a guy falling head over heels to keep with her every time she called. I thought about it for a while, those delusions even nearly making me smile... Until my brain chose to flip a switch, reminding me of what she really felt whenever we called. The heavy sigh she made each time she saw my name. The long pauses after questions that neither of us knew how to answer. The shouting matches that made me want to break my phone, only to completely lose my steam every time I heard the slightest crack in her powerful voice.
She would always hang up as soon as she felt it coming. Keeping me from hearing my 'perfect' girlfriend be anything short. It killed me every single time, serving as another countless reminder in the list of things I made worse for her. The two of us never should've met. I'd told her as much when she broke up. I could still remember the single moment of silence that she couldn't manage to break, the seconds feeling like months and years until she silently turned her back and walk away. I was a complete asshole down to the very last second.
Another huff, another sickening sweetness across my tongue. She would've thrown the pen in the trash if she was there. Told me she had something sweeter. I could imagine the situation going either way, with her either holding me in her arms with warm laughter and a soft smile or giving me the coldest, most disgusted look her face could offer while silently waving off the smoke.
It felt like the last three years had passed in the blink of an eye. I could've sworn we'd had our first kiss just last month. All of the things that I'd been up to ever since then, from sports to classes to chatting up girls in the city, felt like nothing but a hazy dream. The person I was when doing all those things felt like nothing but autopilot. When I was really on my own, with nothing but my thoughts to focus on, I knew exactly who I was.
And God, I fucking hated him.
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Decompressed - Wilson
Word count: 1588 | Link to AO3 | Contents: Fluff | Pairing: Wilson Percival HIggsbury x Nameless Female Character (reader/oc, your choice)
Summary: Overworked, overtired, and entirely burnt out, what more could an exhausted scientist need than a warm embrace?
Excerpt: He held her waist and gave her another moment to catch her breath before looking up, offering a quiet, knowing smile as they matched each other's complexion. "How foolish we are," he breathed as he moved her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek as it warmed beneath his weary palm.
The scientist groaned as his weight sank into the couch, head in his hands and massaging his strained temples while his brain fried itself to a crisp. His eyes squeezed shut in a useless attempt to not let them dry. The one seated on the other cushion curiously looked up from her page, moving the novel aside to better see her spouse. "Wilson?" She asked simply enough, all too used to seeing him at his worst. His bloodshot eyes could barely glance at her from behind the web of his hand. "Is everything alright?"
He was struck with the urge to laugh, one that only came out as a pitiful wheeze. "Nothing you need to worry about," he dismissed without any effort to seem truthful. "It's the same old song and dance. Don't let this weary scientist ruin your day."
"You say that as if I haven't fallen in love with that very man. Come here." She lowered her knees and opened her arms, laughing slightly at the tempted glances he gave her before giving in. He laid himself across the couch and against her chest, his wiry frame sat between her legs as his face found its way to her abdomen. She breathed a sigh of relief once they had settled in. "Now," she spoke with a smile, fingertips brushing to the back of his neck as she combed through his raven-black hair. Saying nothing of the strands of grey that began to show. "Isn't this much more comfortable?"
"Dangerously so," he muttered with a rapidly fading alertness. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as his arms wrapped around her waist, face burying against her clothes and embracing her calming scent as if it he'd been kept from her for years. "As nice as this is, my love, I've still heaps of work to do..."
"And can you tell me in confidence that you'd truly get any of it done?" He couldn't say a single word and she only sighed as she stroked his hair. "I'd like to say I know you well," she mused while gazing at her ring, "and for as brilliant as you are, you've never been a good liar. You flinch and stumble at every push." He could feel his ears turn red as he went to prove both her points, lowering his head while she chuckled at his weak stutter. "It's alright to stay," she soothed through an amused smile. "Who am I to deny my husband his pillow?"
She continued to gently massage his scalp and pet down his unruly hair as he began to run out of steam. "I suppose... that it wouldn't hurt to rest my eyes."
"Not at all," she hummed while feeling his weight sink further into her. He mumbled another excuse that she couldn't catch before he drifted off. It drew another quiet laugh from between her lips as she lowered her head, pressing a kiss to the faint wrinkles of his brow. "Sweet dreams," she whispered as she held him in her arms, spending another moment smitten by her love before returning to her book.
Her fingers absentmindedly traced along his back, playing with his hair and occasionally flipping his white collar. She didn't mind the quiet snores. The awkward shifts of his posture, arms still attempting to hold on to the one he loved. She found it cute, if anything. Akin to a loyally trained pet. His warmth and weight were far more comforting than she expected when they sat down, treating him like a strangely shaped blanket and having to flip through her novel with just one hand.
The seconds and minutes ticked away until nearly two hours had passed. He blinked unevenly as he processed why he was partially in the dark. Her perfume still flooded his nose to the point he nearly fell asleep again. "Darling...?" He mumbled as he gradually regained his bearings, making her tilt her head and place a card in her book before setting it down.
"Finally awake, are you? How was your rest?"
"A bit too pleasant, I'm afraid..." He tried to stretch his arms beneath her as he looked up, feeling inexplicably flattered to see her smiling down at him. Her palm still held the back of his neck to keep him warm. "What time is it now?"
"Hm, about time for dinner. I should get started on that." She sighed as she let go of him, trying to do something about the stiffness forming in her legs. "Would you be a dear and get up first? I'm afraid my legs are still taking a nap."
"Ah... Just a moment." He sat up on his knees before reaching for one of her legs, sinking his thumbs into her calf and watching the way she tried not to wince. "It won't hurt for much longer, I promise."
She had to laugh at his concern, however endearing it was. "After the lives we've lived, do I really need soothing for a cramp?"
"I believe that you're still human like the rest of us. Subtle pains are painful nonetheless." He continued to massage her legs while she watched him with such affection, feeling for the thousandth time just how grateful she was to have married that man. He was completely oblivious to her honeyed gaze. "How are they now?" He asked with a proud little smile
She responded by moving her legs around his back, watching him grunt in surprise as he was brought back against her chest. His arms just barely kept him from lying on her. She only laughed at his caution as her arms looped around his neck. "Perfectly awake, my love. Thank you."
His expression soured with a habitually sheepish frown, one she found adorable in spite of those that saw the opposite. "I'm only doing as a husband should," he attempted to discredit.
"And I, a loyally devoted wife. Don't tell me I can't embrace my own beloved."
"I've told you nothing of the sort. I'm still a man after all, aren't I?" In spite of his embarrassment, he had grown to treasure their marriage as the best thing he had ever done. "I only ask that you give me a bit of grace, as things like this... They have the tendency to shake me, even after this much time."
"Percival..." She closed her eyes and brushed her lips to his forehead, bringing him further into her arms as he gratefully took the space to hide. "I know that well," she assured softly, "and I will give you all the time you could possibly need. It's enough for me that you accept my affections, however excessive they are."
"Excessive, perhaps, but perfect and precious all the same. What kind of person would I be if I rejected something so kind?"
"A man with boundaries, is all. It's perfectly alright to ask me to stop." He opened his mouth to refute her, only to shut it quite firmly as he realized how it would sound. She tilted her head in his silence, feeling his features press more closely to her neck. "...Wilson?" She prompted quietly.
"...Darling," he responded after a pause, a fluster creeping up his neck. "As pathetic of a man this may make me sound... Truly, anything you give me, I will be endlessly grateful for. I hope you don't believe I've been enduring when I've been treasuring each day spent by your side."
"Oh, I only meant..."
"I'm well aware, my love, I am." He had to take another moment, blushing quite deeply where he thought she couldn't see. "I'm only hoping that you know just how smitten I am with you."
And it was her turn to blush red, a vibrant, breathtaking sort of shade as her teeth sank into her lip. She looked away and at the floor as her heart rapidly gathered speed. "I'm aware as well," she reassured as smoothly as she could, "and I promise that I feel the same. The very same."
"Then I'm relieved." He held her waist and gave her another moment to catch her breath before looking up, offering a quiet, knowing smile as they matched each other's complexion. "How foolish we are," he breathed as he moved her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek as it warmed beneath his weary palm. "How foolish we must look while flustering at our own spouse, and yet..." He leaned closer until his forehead touched to hers, meeting her gaze for confirmation before letting his drift shut. Their lips were soft, slow, purposeful to the point the feeling lingered as they pulled away. "...that foolishness," he continued while his lips brushed hers, "is what has brought me so much joy."
"I would much rather be a fool than not be yours." She kissed him again, carefully caressing his face before gently breaking away. "But I really must get started on dinner."
It took a moment for him to realize she was being literal before feeling his eyes go wide. "Yes, quite." He scrambled to get off of her and smooth out his clothes, a belated embarrassment flooding his mind as she laughed softly from behind him. "Forgive me for getting carried away..."
"Why should I?" She asked as her arms looped around his waist, face by his ear as he instinctively held her hands. "There's no need," she reminded with a quiet hum. "Even these sides of you have my heart."
"Ah... As do yours, my dear. I love you all the same."
#wilson#wilson (don't starve)#wilson percival higgsbury#x reader#x oc#fanfic#fanfiction#don't starve#don't starve fanfic#don't starve fanfiction#oneshot#fluff#domestic life#married life#lots of pet names
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sore loser - h|m
Word count: 300
“Oh, look at that scowl. Bitter that your plan didn’t work out?”
The furrow in his brow faintly grew deeper, scowling at the one before him before actively twisting his face to wipe it aside. “Bitter?” He echoed with a slight scoff, crossing his arms with a haughty smirk. “As if I’d waste my time dwelling on an outlier.”
“Ah, an outlier. Of course.” Her lips carefully enunciated each letter before spreading with a hollow grin. “You must be desperate to keep it as such.”
“And what would you know of my desperation?”
“More than you’d ever like to admit.”
Her smile widened as his all but disappeared, taking a step closer as her head tilted to comfortably match his height. “Arrogant bitch,” he spoke under his breath.
“Sadistic freak.” She adored the tortured look in his eyes almost as deeply as the rasp of his seething voice. “Isn’t so fun when they don’t give in, is it?”
“I don’t want to hear such words from someone that followed him.”
“I find him more tolerable than you.”
“Hmph, no accounting for taste.”
“I never did have much, did I?” His eyes narrowed, forfeiting his false air of confidence as hers faded by just as much. “Let me know once you’ve finished pitying yourself,” she invited with a drift of her lidded gaze. Taking in every last detail of his expression. “There’s always room for my awful taste to accept one more.”
A silence fell over them both, neither party wishing to be the one who caved until he inevitably resigned to the frustrating strength of her resolve. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered under his breath, taking a sweeping glance from her head to her shoes before turning to walk away.
And you adore it, she thought as she watched him go.
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Fireworks - Killer
Word count: 1807 | Link to AO3 | Contents: Implied Sexual Content | Pairing: Killer x Nameless Female Character (reader/oc, your choice)
Summary: After arriving in Wano and being assigned a cover position as a teahouse waitress, MC develops a rather interesting relationship with the capital’s resident crossroad killer... one they both knew would never last.
Excerpt: She wished there was more she could do, a way to capture and replay that tender moment thousands of times, but was that fleeting, forbidden feeling not what made it so special?
He looks happy.
She couldn't help but steal a glance at the Kid Pirates, their vice captain still in her thoughts while confident she wasn't in his. She told herself that the only reason he sought her was because he had no other choice. She held nothing against him for it. Solitude was more than enough to make someone foolish, and it had done the same to her, and yet even while knowing that... She had grown attached, and she wondered if he felt the same.
Her gaze turned away before she could notice that he'd glanced as well. While she had been comfortable with him at the teahouse, he could tell that it was a different sort of act. He wanted to know what she was like when given the space to express herself. Wanted to see if she would ever show those sides of herself to him. It was a useless sort of hope, one of those thoughts that only served to be comforting rather than compelling, and yet he couldn't push it away.
He remembered the look on her face whenever she held his between her hands, gazing at him with pure, unadulterated desire along with genuine attraction. Her lips were warm next to his own. Chest soft against his firm muscles. Her weight felt perfect in his lap, thighs free to sink his touch into, knees lightly pressing to his sides as she embraced his broad shoulders... He looked away before his thoughts could go too far, all too aware that they'd never do those things again.
More than her touch, which was still heavily on his mind, he was confused by her kindness. Why she chose to invite him in when he was already a wanted man. A murderer both on the seas and in Wano. She gave him a gentle smile, a warm, quiet place to stay, handmade refreshments without a single ask for payment. He took her at face value for the sake of staying distant. She wouldn't have answered any of his questions even if he asked.
Everything she'd done had been on a whim. She took a chance on Kamazo, guessing that he was under Orochi and assuming he'd be foolish enough to leak secrets to a woman. It wasn't until she saw his weapons and could observe his mannerisms that she connected the dots. Her heart bled for him, that day. The only thing she wanted was to ease the weight on his mind, even if just by an ounce.
But he had found his true companions once again. He had no use for her superficial comfort. It was only then that she began to question whether they ever should've met, a rather belated sense of shame beginning to creep through her thoughts. Would he really have been that lost without her? Or would he have focused more on his crew without her there to take up his thoughts? Was there something more she could've done, more information she could've gathered to help the raid go more smoothly, and had she missed that opportunity while fooling around with him...?
Her thoughts were only interrupted by the sound of fireworks above, her attention turning to the sky just in time to see the vibrant colors covering the stars. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She found it difficult to manage anything more. The Flower Capital was filled with some of the most wildly energetic pirates in the world, and yet she couldn't find the strength to match their light. If anything, it made her feel more out of place, wondering why she chose to take her Captain's invite in the first place.
Killer glanced at her again, unsure of what he was looking for and being wholly caught off guard by what he saw. The woman that dared to embrace a twisted man like him, confident and brazen enough to deepen that connection into touch, overwhelming to the point her presence could be felt on every corner of Onigashima, was standing alone in a way that would tug at anybody's heart. She quietly held the sleeve of her kimono as she gazed up at the stars, taking a subtle bite on the inside of her lip to try and gather her scattered thoughts.
She was alone in a sea of people, alone surrounded by her crew, alone without even herself inside her heart. It felt as if the time had stilled in her clouded eyes. "Give me a minute," he quickly excused from his crew, making his way through the dense crowds until she was within his reach. She was too transfixed on the fireworks to notice that he'd come so near. He looked at her for a moment, asking himself what exactly he intended to do before standing right by her side.
He watched a couple fireworks burst and fizzle while trying to emulate the same sights that she saw. When her head was tilted so far up, it was easy to let the bystanders fade away. His gaze drifted back to her to see if she'd noticed him yet, lifting his arm to rest lightly around her waist once he saw she hadn't. Her posture stiffened beneath him. She glanced over to see his signature helmet in place of the bandages she'd memorized the feel of, the cold sides of his handguard pressing to her hip as he pretended not to watch her face.
Her lips parted for just a moment, only to let out nothing but a quiet sigh before pressing back shut again. She let her head tilt towards him until it rested on his familiar shoulder. His laughter spilled through his mask as he brought her closer to his side. Both of their gestures, however different in subtlety, were the same answer to a question that had always hung in the air.
I would've chosen you regardless.
Nobody was forcing them, then. He chose to approach her out of everything he could've done. She chose to accept his time and company even while knowing full well the weight that it carried. She could feel butterflies in her chest the longer she stayed beneath his arm, the nervous energy that came with being beside the one she cared for starting to replace the painful anxiety she had faced before. It was a warm, buzzing sort of feeling, her hands loosely clasping together to keep from reaching for his. He wouldn't have minded if she had.
His crew could only stare in shock at what was happening before their eyes, with their vice captain making a rather ballsy move on what they only knew to be a stranger. Not only that, but it had worked. Anyone with eyes could see how smitten she was with him, how the very tips of her ears had blushed a vibrant shade of red, the corners of her mouth struggling to stay down as she tried to keep her gaze from him. She wanted to see his face. Longed for the way his sharp blue eyes would focus on hers. She felt foolish in a way, already knowing the kind of reaction she'd get if she mentioned it aloud, but the thoughts still felt comforting however immature they might've been.
On the other side, it was impossible to tell what was on his mind. Even those that knew him had trouble trying to figure out what he'd done. Why he was showing such a sudden, confident interest in someone of a different crew after so long spent on his own. He held her in spite of what it could've meant. In spite of all the unwritten rules and strained façades they were both tired of keeping up. He wasn't shy to admit he cared deeply for her, at least within his own thoughts, though just like her, he would never say those words out loud. Something that deeply intimate would only cause more harm than good.
And so the couple only stood there, silent, staring at the sky. Her frame was warm against his own. She could feel each rise and fall of his broad chest with every breath. She wished there was more she could do, a way to capture and replay that tender moment thousands of times, but was that fleeting, forbidden feeling not what made it so special? She knew that she would likely never have the chance to speak with him again, much less see beneath his mask or have him hold her in his arms. He held no hope for being able to reunite after parting ways. They were resigned to their quiet, bittersweet ending, a trick of fate that would stay embedded in their paths for the rest of time.
"Kamazo," she started as the show moved towards its end, resting her hand over his own as her thumb slowly traced his scars. "Thank you."
Those three soft words held everything she couldn't say. That, even though she had been the one to provide for him, she was grateful for his continued visits and acceptance nonetheless. Grateful that he'd chosen to watch the fireworks however finite they might've been. Her use of that name wasn't a mistake. It wasn't a slip of her tongue or some kind of playful tease. It was a warning, a forlorn, reluctant one that they both knew was for the best.
This is as far as we can go.
The only thing he could do was laugh even as she bore her heart to him. The sound didn't do so much as make her shift. Her thumb continued to press warmly against his skin, her build still resting against his with every ounce of her faith and trust. "Don't mention it," is all he said, shelving each and every last thought he had to respond.
For all they'd learned about the other, the fact remained that it had only been a few months. A sum of weeks that they had truly spent in the other's company, offset by grueling days of paranoia and regret. He had no right to pry further. To ask that she call him by his name when it would only deepen their graves. Their only choice was to stand there and savor their ignorance for what little time they still had left.
The last firework came and went. Cheers filled the air as the festival continued on. He let her go, her posture straightening once again as his arm fell down to his side. They shared a single, silent look amidst the endless mess of noise, the very tips of her fingers curling inwards to her palm once she saw his mask. "Enjoy the festival," she bid with a slight smile, already turning away before he had the chance to respond.
She could hear his laughter through the noise as he walked away.
#killer (one piece)#right person wrong time#x reader#fanfic#killer#kid pirates#one piece#x oc#fanfiction#wano#post wano arc#oneshot#bittersweet#one piece fanfiction#killer x reader#one piece x reader#op
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Like Clockwork - Illumi
Word count: 1612 | Link to AO3 | Contents: Mild/Non-Graphic Smut | Pairing: Illumi x Nameless Female Character (reader/oc, your choice)
Summary: Despite his line of work and less than sociable demeanor, Illumi will never fail to make time for his wife.
Excerpt: His hair cast shadows on her face from the way he leaned over her frame, giving her every single ounce of his attention as he lingered for a moment longer. “My love,” he would say to her, touching his forehead to her own. “Is there anything you'd like?”
Every evening, like clockwork, her husband would return to a clean house. There would be no food left for him on the table. No dirty dishes in the sink. He would move silently through the rooms after disposing of his tools and removing his outdoor clothes, cleaning himself of any trace of his career. He would count down every minute that he spent beneath the water before exiting the shower and drying himself off. He wouldn't bother to get dressed before returning to their bedroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.
And every evening, like clockwork, she would be waiting there for him.
Dressed in nothing but a silk robe bought with his ill-obtained fortune, hands resting lightly on her lap as she stared blankly at the clock. Knowing that he would come to her at the same time of every day. She would look over at the sound of the door closing behind him, standing without a single word and walking towards him as if under a command. Her hands would rest beside his waist. His lifted to take a light hold of her jawline, tilting her to the perfect angle for a kiss. She knew how long he would linger, which distance he would pull away, even how subtly his low eyelids would lift.
His thumb would run along her cheek, wedding band pressed against her jaw. Slowly admiring the woman before him. His gaze would lower before meeting her lips again, subtly tapping his forehead against her own as a warning before moving to someplace else. His hands gradually traveled to her hips before reaching the sash that held her clothing shut, pulling it off in one swift motion as the fabric fluttered open. He would take a look at her. Looking for any signs of doubt. She only ever returned his gaze with a resigned, silent acceptance, never once being less or more.
The two would make their way over to their vast bed as his arms wrapped around her waist. His hands traveled in such familiar patterns that she no longer felt surprised. He sat beside her as she sat against the sheets, head lowering to her shoulder to fully push the fabric off. He was always careful with undressing her no matter how many times he saw the exact same sight, patiently guiding her arms out of the loose sleeves and making sure to slide his hands along whatever was exposed. Telling her that he'd known and loved everything that he saw.
Her robe would fall against the floor with a soft sound as he gradually worked his way around her self. Their posture would steadily give way until she lay against the sheets, his body always positioned on top of hers. He would reach over for her hand without looking. It only ever rested in the same place, waiting to feel his frigid touch and loosely lace their hands together. She would gently rub her thumb against his own to show her faint reciprocation of his love. Only then would he take it as a sign to continue.
With his soft touch and tender care, she couldn't help but let herself relax beneath him. Whatever stresses she'd acquired during the day would all unravel in the night. Her thoughts would be consumed by him and him alone, cementing her as his lover for what felt like the thousandth time. He held and savored every noise that reached his ears before going to search for more. Even with such a firm routine that they found themselves following, it still held the very same amount of pleasure as always.
Her hands would twitch as if on instinct whenever their bodies reached a certain point, his head lifting to meet her gaze as she reached for his waist's towel. Tossing it aside, they shared a look of purely wordless confirmation yet again. Her hand would lift to hold his face, her lips closing for a swallow before parting to share one more kiss with him. He let her palm guide him forward until they met. As if asking for her permission, he would gently hold her side and slide his touch along her thigh until she nodded subtly.
And he would hold her hand again, feeling her tightly grip his palm until the pressure subsided. Her eyes would squeeze shut until she felt comfortable enough to let out the breath she held. He waited to see the faint glimpse of her irises once they slowly drifted open another time, head lowering to kiss her cheek as his body began to move. It never failed to earn a soft sigh from her lips. A single faint movement of air that sent a shiver down his spine.
Her thoughts would start to blur together. She was able to predict every event up to that point, each subtle movement of his hands against her skin, and yet her train of thought would always be derailed at the same point of every night. He had tailored every single one of his actions to suit her needs, taking note of her reactions as the woman he had chosen once and for all. The one that showed him what it truly meant to treasure another.
They both went into their relationship while viewing it as nothing more than a false front. An agreement between two parties for the better of them both. He never thought he could love her. She thought she knew he never would. She spent her time with him while viewing it as nothing more than a business expense, and yet after a certain point, she found herself thinking of him in her off time. Letting herself slip deeper into the depths of night. She found pleasure in the sweet love he made to her, longing for his company and enjoying when it was there.
He felt the same, in his own way. His love for her changed from something he felt obligated to say to something he meant from the bottom of his heart. He would look at her as she laid exhausted beneath him, taking a towel to wipe the sweat from her body before reaching up for her face. His palm rested against her cheek as she gazed tiredly at him, blinking unevenly until he made her eyes drift shut. She placed her hand over his knuckles and traced gently along his skin as he touched a kiss to her lips, brushing her hair behind her ear with just the tips of his fingers.
His hair cast shadows on her face from the way he leaned over her frame, giving her every single ounce of his attention as he lingered for a moment longer. My love, he would say to her, touching his forehead to her own. Is there anything you'd like?
Her answer would differ from time to time. Something to drink, a light dessert, a scented bath. He would do everything without question, however trivial or needlessly specific it was. She would smile and give him her thanks despite how he never reacted either way. Her gratitude felt unneeded, and yet, touching. A warmth would spread through his body for a reason he didn't understand. He could understand objectively the kinds of connections formed between individuals, but he had always seen himself as immune to such weaknesses. None of it ever made much sense to him.
He'd be reminded of such questions every time he looked at her. Each time she'd place a fragile arm around his waist and lean warmly against his side. Closing her eyes in a display of honest trust. He consistently judged others for their shortcomings when it came to emotionally-fueled mistakes, yet whenever he looked at her, and whenever she would fumble the same human things... He couldn't bring himself to see her in a different light at all. She would still look so perfect to him. Even more so, if he would let himself admit it. She had a strength that only came with the same vulnerabilities he never showed. Her world was different than his own. Fundamentally so. She always welcomed him inside however clueless to it he was.
Out of every request she ever gave him when he asked, his favorite of them by far was the one that came from exhaustion. You, Illumi. When she would confess her affection in such a roundabout way, smiling at the blank way he stared back at her in return before lowering to her side. Holding her against his deceptively muscular chest. She would ask questions about his day that no one else had ever bothered thinking of. She couldn't care less how succinct or eloquent he decided to be. It meant enough that he was willing to answer, the vibrations inside his chest being her favorite, familiar sound.
His heart was fainter than anyone she'd ever heard. She had been told the trait ran in his family. He would let her run through all of her questions until she trailed off to silence, sleeping soundly enough for him to leave her side without waking her. His first priority was finding clean clothes to dress the both of them in before tidying the room and fixing up the bed's blankets. Her arms would instinctively move around him as soon as he returned to her side. It made him pause without fail whenever he felt her embrace, having to tell himself that it was how she showed her affection. Those kinds of displays were more than rare in his life leading up to her.
But once he met and welcomed her into his life, they felt impossible to live without.
#maybe ooc#that's my bad#illumi#illumi zoldyck#hxh#hunter x hunter#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#smut#lemon#x reader#x oc#no dialogue
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hi there
this blog is mostly a personal archive and won’t post regularly, but you’re free to look around :)
links: ao3 (Henir)
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