Can I request Kid x reader where the reader is admiring the stuff that he builds? You can add anything else you like I just had this idea!
okay so this kind of got out of hand. it's my first time writing for kid and i feel like i'm still trying to find his voice, but anyways, i really enjoyed writing this!!
eustass kid x heart pirate fem!reader. kid owes law a favour and ends up taking you with him and his crew for some time. the only problem is he really can't deal with how bad he wants to rail you.
eustass kid thinks you're hot.
eustass kid thinks you're hot and he's very angry about it. to be fair, kid is pretty much constantly angry about all kinds of things. but not many things compare to having a crush on your rival's subordinate.
when trafalgar had asked him for a favour, kid thought it would be about something stupid, like an upgrade to his ridiculous yellow tin can or a couple of new and advanced weapons for his crew.
but then you had stepped out from behind your captain, all shy and embarrassed - which was obviously an act, kid knows how much of a menace you are - and you asked him to take you with him for a few weeks, because you needed to do some business on an island that apparently wasn't intended for your own captain's route.
and so trafalgar law ended up cashing in the favour kid had owed him in the form of a fucking ride to an island for one of his annoying crew mates.
probably the most annoying one. at least in kid's eyes, because whenever you're around his eyes don't seem to work at all, they're just glued to your ass all the time.
it's only been a week since you boarded the victoria punk and kid already hates his life.
the worst part is that everyone on his crew loves you. kid has always wondered what you're doing with the heart pirates, with that creepy weirdo for a captain. you're so full of life and excitement and he's so full of.. well... not that.
you're basically what the grand line equivalent of kesha meant when she said "the party don't start till i walk in".
and you walked in alright. swaying those cursed hips, the ones kid can't stop thinking about at night, booze in hand, as if you were still trying to bribe him, even though he had already agreed for you to come.
it was a nice gesture either way. kid drank the whole bottle in one sitting, while you were out on deck partying with his crew, and he was still pretending that he would come out of this alive and that he didn't want to fuck your brains out.
a week has passed since then and he knows better now. you're going to be the death of him and there's nothing he can do about it.
one thing about kid is that when he has to suffer then everyone else has to suffer. which is why he's currently having his crew clean the deck in it's entirety for the third time this week now.
"the boss is in a mood again", he hears one of his crew members mutter behind his back as he paces along the side of the deck.
"yeah, wonder what crawled up his ass", a different man agrees and kid stops pacing.
"if you got time to talk shit then you're not working hard enough", he scolds his men and they scramble, but not without giving him a hearty laugh. they know he's being a dick for the sake of it and not because he actually means it. kid sighs.
by midday his mood lightens a little. he hasn't seen you all day, the universe granting him a short break from the torture that is your presence. and as it turns out, having the crew clean the deck more often actually seems to benefit the general condition of his ship, which is a nice bonus.
yeah, kid is pretty happy with himself and the way his day is going. until you finally surface from beneath the deck, and decide to help with the cleaning. you're wearing nothing but a skimpy tank top and shorts and kid lives through the first out of body experience of his life, as he watches you grab a bucket and a mop, while you crack a joke to killer on the other side of the ship. kid has never hated you more.
and then it gets worse because someone trips and drops their own bucket of water, and of course the water splashes you and your white top, that is now amazingly and devastatingly see-through.
kid's heart stops beating.
you laugh and have the audacity to simply strip out of your wet shirt, which leaves you in only the bikini top you were wearing underneath and those tiny shorts. and for a second kid is sure that this must mean you'll go and change into something different. but to his despair that is very much not the case, because you stay exactly where you are and keep mopping the floor, not even pausing your animated conversation with killer.
the latter seems to feel kid's gaze burning through him, because he looks up at his captain and apparently understands the reason for kid's distressed state right away. killer gives him a knowing look and a smirk. then he says something to you that makes you look over at kid too and you dare to wink at him, and kid curses under his breath and turns on his heel and leaves the deck to hide out in his workshop.
he likes to tinker with something when he's feeling out of it. (apparently, that also applies when he's trying to deny that he has the hots for a pretty heart pirate.) he slams the door shut behind him and leans over his work bench, muttering something to himself about being hated by the gods and see-through tank tops. then he gets to work.
as per usual, life on the victoria punk is chaotic. the next disaster soon approaches, and it approaches in the form of you knocking on kid's door later that day.
the sun outside has long set, the crew would have had dinner by now, but kid couldn't care less. he's too deep into the process of building the prototype for a new kind of machine gun. the machine gun that he's going to use to kill trafalgar for putting this upon him.
kid doesn't even look up at the knock on his door, just offers a gruff "come in" to whoever is brave enough to disturb him tonight.
he does look up however, when he hears the sound of your boots inching closer on the wooden floor of his workshop.
when he sees you, kid takes a moment to silently thank the spirits, because at least you've put on a shirt again.
"what do you want?", he snaps, anyway.
you roll your eyes with a quiet chuckle.
"you missed dinner", you explain as you set down a plate in front of him. "killer said you'd be here. thought you might wanna eat something."
and kid considers using the gun on his best friend instead because what the fuck is this supposed to be. are they teaming up on him now?
"whatcha got there?", you ask, leaning over his shoulder from behind his chair.
kid's brain needs a moment to process your question as the smell of your perfume clouds his mind, and wow, it's really hard to hate you when you're so close and you smell so heavenly.
"gun", he replies, annoyed.
"i can see that", you deadpan and point your finger to a certain part. "what does that thing do?"
kid looks at you suspiciously. why are you so interested in his work all of a sudden? can you sense him plotting his over the top revenge plans?
the look he gives you seems to get his suspicions across well enough for you to raise your hands in surrender.
"i'm just curious", you say.
and kid can't help himself, because talking about his work is his sweet spot, and it's hard to resist when it's you who's asking.
"that part's a grenade launcher", he explains, although hesitantly, and still very much irritated. "30 millimetre, pump-action, mounted beneath the barrel of the main gun for some extra oomph, ya know?"
"woah, that's sick", you say, and you lean in even closer to take a better look, and kid hates everything and everyone and himself. "did you build that from scratch?"
he hesitates again, before he dares to reply.
he tries not to choke on his own tongue at the compliment. instead he watches your eyes sweep over the workbench, taking in the gun and the spare parts he hasn't put in yet, as well as his tools.
and he thinks screw you and your genuine interest in the thing he's most passionate about and your smooth skin that makes him weak in the knees. he wants you to leave him the fuck alone.
"what part are you working on right now?", you ask, almost absentmindedly, seemingly too immersed in his work.
and kid feels his walls crack around him, because who's he kidding, he doesn't want you to leave at all. his heart is doing literal cartwheels whenever you're around him. and maybe it's that exact moment when he decides to swallow down his pride.
"the magazine, it starts jamming when loaded to maximum capacity", he says, as he turns around in his chair to face you. "so i'm just tryna fix that."
you nod, and if kid didn't know better he'd think that you look genuinely in awe of the machine in front of you. and he's sitting there genuinely in awe of you, like a true idiot.
suddenly, your eyes are back on his face.
"you know, it's kinda hot when you talk about this stuff."
frame freeze. something breaks in the distance.
"what the fuck did you just say?", kid blurts.
you chuckle and there's that spark in your eyes again and eustass kid is about to lose the remaining few of his marbles.
another one. you're practically in his lap now.
your eyes lock with his and for a moment it feels like a whole battle, like you just started a war that you decided to quietly fight out like this.
a war that kid is losing, hopelessly.
you cock your head to the side and bat your eyes at him.
kid tries not to choke on his own spit.
(he'd rather you choke on it.)
he slowly stands up, towering over you in an attempt to gain back control over the situation.
"cause if you stay", he leans in closer, eyes wandering over your face, gaze catching on plush lips. "i can't guarantee what happens next."
a slow grin forms on your lips. kid's eyes move back to yours as you stare up at him.
"sweetheart, you don't wanna know what an actual threat from me looks like."
at this point, kid is sure that he's not the only one who's lost his mind.
"leave", he snaps. "now."
and for a moment kid doesn't know what to say. all of his willpower is already directed to not bending you over his workbench and fucking you on the spot. he feels his self-control melt away with every passing second.
"oh, i see", you smirk. "so you're just all talk, no -"
kid doesn't get to hear the end of your sentence, because he slams you into the wall and smashes his stained lips into yours.
and he feels your hands place themselves on his bare chest and it feels like you're setting his skin on fire and he loves every second of it.
his own hands are everywhere, exploring your body like it's the only thing worth caring for in the entire world, and his lips latch onto your neck and he groans into your skin as your nails dig into his back.
so much for self-restraint.
later, as you both sit on the floor of kid's workshop, still panting, and still tangled in each other and the few remains of your clothes, you place your head on his heaving chest and kid hears you sigh contently.
"this is all your fault", kid grumbles.
but there's a warmth that spreads within him when he listens to you chuckle quietly.
"you'll get over it till the next time we run into each other", you hum.
and kid laughs. he can't help it.
you lazily look up at him through hooded eyes, hair messy and face flushed. and kid hates that you still look this perfect. a perfect mess.
"you don't actually think i'll let you go back to that idiot surgeon, do you?"
