His Angel, Her Hothead | Eustass Kid x reader

04

What better way to be woken up than to hear loud banging at your door early in the morning, just as you were struggling to pry your eyes open quick enough. You yawned, stretching out your arms above your head and finally managing to crack open your eyes - the morning light leaking through the gap under the door.

"(Y/n), get up."

You pulled yourself off of the hammock you lay in and swung your legs over the edge, ambling over to the door to swing it open. Squinting a little because of the light difference, you came face to face with Killer: arms crossed and clearly a lot more awake than you.

"Oh hey, Killer."

Rubbing your eyes, you yawned once more as Killer stops Wire awake before you. Looking around yourself and back to the man like he wasn't talking to you, you pointed a finger at yourself and he sighed.

"Isn't Kid the captain?"

"(Y/n), look me in the eyes and tell me you think Kid is the kind of wake-up-call captain you're used to seeing."

There was a big silence as you looked blankly into the holed mask, ironically unable to see his eyes. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed with a small and perplexed laugh.

Oh, Killer.

"So, why this early?"

You calmed down and raised an eyebrow, leaning into the wall next to the door.

"We're docking in an hour, you will want to get ready."

"Oh, you should've said!"

Suddenly, a bright smile lit up your features as you nodded, slamming the door in Killer's face to get ready.

You pulled the string next to the door which lit up a lightbulb in the middle of the room, one that dangled in your face from how low the ceiling was.

Being an all-men crew with you as an exception, it was obvious you needed your own space. The guys weren't bad, but there were some who definitely needed to know you weren't there for any other reason than being one of the crew.

Your room was small, but you were as grateful as can be. It was once a weaponry storage, something one would call "shoebox sized" but still, it was quite cozy. The walls were clad in oak, the floor too: and apart from the hammock which hung across the middle, the only other piece of furniture was an old dresser which held your clothes and minimal belongings.

Throwing on the usual of a long-sleeved, white dress-shirt and some ankle-length, pinstriped trousers, which made you look fit for a meeting, you grabbed your boots which were in the corner of the room. They came halfway up your calfs and were bulky, a jet black with massive, sliver buckles in the middle of them: definitely fitting for how the crew dressed.

You also had a belt; it was a dark brown with a pouch attached to the side to hold dials in. If you weren't constantly around horny and unpredictable men in this world, you would've dressed lighter, but here you were.

Finally, there were the bandages that wrapped your arms; only the palms exposed because of your shirt.

You smiled to yourself idly, gripping your belt loops.

"Nice."

As you got out on deck, you noticed that the higher ups of the crew, which consisted of Killer, Wire and Heat, were already at the bow of the ship - more than likely discussing some form of action plan for the day. You trotted up behind them, leaning your arms on the rails next to where Heat was stood, giving a smile to the sombre man.