Hank x mer!reader (Can be read as romantic or platonic)
CW: mention's of violence, this is just fluff
Hank had a secret. He had many, but this one was something even Doc didn't know of, a secret the bloodthirsty mercenary would take to his grave if whatever god ever let him die.
He had never given them a name. He had never spoken to them, they spoke enough for the two of them to begin with, but he still kept coming back to the secluded cave to sit by the hidden underground pool. Hank didn't have friends. He had viabilities, people he barely saw as people rather than tools for his own success. Hank was blind to the bond he'd created with them, because he’d never had any bonds with others to begin with.
His boots and socks were thrown off to the side before rolling up his pant legs and taking a seat by the edge of the underwater pool, letting his feet cool off in the cold water as he waited. He knew they wouldn't take long to surface, especially with him disturbing the water.
And he was right. "Did you bring food?" was the first question they asked as the surface broke, revealing Hank's secret. Them.
he barely moved his head, only staring as they climbed out of the water and onto the rocky edge to sit with him. They were pale, paler than a normal grunt was at least not to mention the tail. Hank had touched it before, it had small scales protecting it, but the fins were sensitive and broke much easier.
They had taken to crawling around, dragging their tail behind them as they explored Hank's jacket pockets. Hank did little to stop them, he knew they wouldn't take anything that wasn't edible and he knew they weren't capable of harming him, unlike him, who could easily rip those fins off with little effort – his thoughts were interrupted by suddenly being tugged by the mer. “Are you not hot under all this leather? You smell awful,” they scrunched up their nose as they sniffed the grunt. The mix of sweat, leather and iron created an awful odor to the mer, who was far more used to the lack of any smells, outside of dirt and water.
Hank couldn’t help the uncharacteristic snort that left him, seeing the mer’s clear distaste for his smell. While Hank didn’t care about others’ comfort, he did find their disgruntlement amusing, though would never show it like he did with the mer. He felt oddly comfortable around the mer. And why wouldn’t he? As far as he was concerned the mer couldn’t leave the cave and didn’t appear to be a threat to him.
They were his, after all.
Hank’s snort wasn’t lost on the mer at all, either, “I made you laugh!” the mer said enthusiastically, pointing at Hank while their tail hit against the cave floor excitedly, wet thumps echoing through the cave. The mer was proud of themselves, always trying to draw out some expression from the stoic mercenary. “Now, what do I get for such an achievement?” they asked playfully, not truly expecting anything from their playful behavior.
What they wouldn’t have expected in a million years was for Hank to pull them on his lap and pet them. The unexpected gentleness felt odd. Sure Hank wasn’t holding them in the most comfortable way, but what could one expect from a man that had never held someone with affection? What was important was the thought behind it, and soon the mer found themselves relaxing into the hold and even purring along with the grunt, even if Hank’s own purring was slightly off from the lack of use.
Nevertheless it was nice, something neither of them knew they needed.
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critique is welcome! This is my first fic and I'm looking to improve my writing :]