Random x Reader oneshots!

Little Fish x Reader

Hey Guys! So this one isn't really anime, its a Chinese animation, some of you may have seen it. Its called Throne of Elves and I just finished watching it like 5 minutes ago, and one of the main character made me go like 'hot dam! Jesus lord christ gimmmmmeeee" So I looked up fanfic, but there was none. So you can imagine my frustration. So Then I was all like "Well since there are none, I'll just make my own." And here we are. In this story, Little fish (Lambert) left after his girlfriend, the elf gal, rejected him. You are one of his closet friends, and are there to take the punches, make him laugh, make sure he sleeps, heal his bruises, and treat his broken heart and almost never ending tears. Months later you confess, not being able to take it anymore.

~Begin~

I sighed, attempting to get an edge to the butcher knife I was forging. Then the metal decided it would loose its strength, and splinter and curve on me. I cursed the blacksmith for spending all his time on my good for nothin- well actually a lot- forge mate and crush. I tossed it in the remake, or reuse pile, and sat down with a huff. Work was slow today, only one man had come in and he refused to buy anything unless I 'sweetened the deal.' To say the least, I was a popular go-after around the town, for boys and men alike. Usually the only thing that kept them away was Lambert, or the Black Smith-er, but they hadn't been here in days, nearly a week.

I slumped down in my chair, and sighed. A man and his daughter, at least I assumed daughter, approached the stall, looking at the swords and metal crafts displayed on the racks. "How much for this one?" The man asked, pointing to a sword the little girl was eyeing. "That one will be one copper coin, or 25 aluminum." The man nodded, and pulled out the appropriate money, setting it on the counter as I went to go get the sword. It was one Lambert had made, spending many hours upon it, day and night, not coming into the houses shared sleeping room until late. It was the most expensive thing in our shop, and he told me to sell it if I could when he left.

I handed the sword to the man, and he gave the small, delicate, but strong blade, to the young girl. They left, and I was forced into boredom once again. The doorknob rattled in the back of the forge, and Lambert emerged, bearing a small smile, one without much heart, or happiness to it, very unlike the one he had when he received the letter from his girlfriend, Alya. I frowned, getting up and walking over to him. "What's wrong?" I asked, setting my hand cautiously on his shoulder. The blacksmith walked in, and closed shop, the day nearing it's end. Lamberts eyes clouded with tears, and he let out a choked sob, bringing me into his arms, and sobbing into my shoulder. I hesitantly put my arms around his neck, gently stroking his soft hair with my fingers, which were black with soot from the forge.

As I gently hushed him, the blacksmith shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it when I gave him a glare to remember. He shuffled to the house portion of the shop, and left us alone, Lamberts sobs and the crackling fire the only noise until Lambert spoke. "She left me." He whispered, clutching me tighter, pressing his face into my dirty forge tunic. I sighed, and kissed his hair, stroking his back, almost as a mother would. I knew he was unattainable, his heart would always be Alya's... and she had to throw away the most precious thing upon this earth... the love and adoration of this fragile boy in my arms. It made my blood boil, made me want to beat some sense into her, so she would take him back, make him stop crying, do anything and everything to make his heart stop hurting. But I couldn't, and I wouldn't. Because he needed me now. Not later, not last week, not next year, but now. I wouldn't leave him to the pity-less blacksmith who knew almost nothing about Lamberts love for Alya.

Even though it would hurt, god it would hurt like hell, I'd take care of him til he won't need me anymore. I swear.