Captive [Eustass Kid x Reader]

Day 5 - part one

Kid woke up later than usual, and in a terrible, terrible mood.

Despite the cloudy night, the morning seemed bright, with a sunbeam filtering through the porthole and landing directly on his pillow.

He grumbled something, displeased, eyes still closed.

The memories of the day before surfaced slowly in his mind, making it worse. They won a battle, of course, but it wasn't supposed to go that way, plus those pirates were damn strong and they managed to hit him on... the back.

Yet it wasn't hurting like he was expecting. It was something more similar to a stinging itch.

Still half-asleep, Kid brought the good hand to the wound, and his callous fingers made contact with something familiar, although he couldn't see it.

Stiches?

He didn't recall stopping by the doctor though.

He was awake now, and since he moved he became aware of something warm against his torso.

The pirate rubbed his eyes roughly, lowering his amber gaze to his chest.

You were curled up against his muscles, deeply asleep. Your forehead leaned against his sternum, and you had huddled in foetal position in attempt to gain some warmth.

The non-existing eyebrows of the redhead rose almost to the goggles he didn't even take off the night before.

Caught off guard, Eustass Kid froze for a moment, staring at your sleeping form.

You were wearing one of his T-shirts, which actually managed to cover your body up to your knees. During sleep, though, the fabric pulled up on your legs, unveiling the curve of the thigh.

Tracing your figure with his eyes, he swallowed, his gaze lingering on your chest. He could guess the curve of your breasts under his shirt, with a hint of nipple protruding through the fabric.

The captain felt a twitch between his legs.

He could have you, right there, in that moment.

You were so small and fragile, not able to put up any real resistance.

Kid tilted his head slightly and caught a glimpse of sunlight reflecting on something. His eyes darted to the desk.

There was the knife. Big, sharp and lethal. Beside, a first-aid kit, opened and half-used.

His gaze shifted back to you.

He had been stupid. He was wounded and unconscious, and he let an armed enemy in his own cabin.

No doubts his haki would have waken him up if you really were a threat. But, for some reason, you had chosen to patch him up instead.

This time, his focus fixed on your face.

Your messy hair were all over the place, concealing half of your expression.

He hummed at your black and swollen cheekbone. And the plaster cast on your shoulder. Had he noticed those before?

Kid let out a low growl as he unconsciously decided not to abuse you, at least for now.

He may have been a sadistic son of a bitch but he had a fucking pride.

Tossing the sheet aside, he got up and made his way out of the cabin.

You were thirteen and you were going to die. There was no way around it, not this time.

The fault was only yours, by the way. That's what you get when you put yourself on the line for someone else. And who, on the other hand? One of the boys that made your life a living hell.