Hiii! I obsess & geek out over fictional characters, write whatever comes to mind, & mostly just yap about things I cannot get out of my brain! 🥳
(However, I mostly keep my yapping in the topic of One Piece & just life in general)
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(Also if you recognize me from my previous acc, unfortunately I deleted that one :( but I'm excited to build this new blog!)
Holyyyyy moly dude I just wrote for a WHILE 😭 I'm trying to write as much as I can while I have this writing grind thing going on before I lose motivation 💔
Anyways...I want to write more Kid stuff but it's super duper late and I lwk have to go to sleep
#freaksleep #sleepisfortheweak
(I say as I'm actively snuggled up in bed 🤫 LMFAOAO)
I love a good sleeping headcannon or scenario, so why not go ahead and whip something up real quick for Kid? 🥳 Let's get into this one guys :^
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ:
It's late at night, everyone is finally quiet, and the only thing you can hear is the buzz of your fan blowing cold air on your exposed skin. You pull the blanket up high, damn near to your chin, finally getting comfortable.
Then you hear your door open.
You look back to see Kid, walking in and shutting the door. You've gotten close enough with him to where him coming into your room is a normal thing. He doesn't look how he normally does. His makeup is off, his hair is down, he has a basic outfit on to sleep. You like this version of Kid.
"You okay?" You mumble out. I mean, you were damn near half asleep before he came into your room.
"Fine." He said, already starting to get into your bed.
Instead of questioning, you simply just lifted up the blanket, throwing some of it over him so he can start getting under. You knew him well enough at this point.
You turned to where you were originally, your back facing him. After some rustling and shifting, you both finally got comfortable in the bed, the silence and warmth enveloping the both of you.
But as you're lying there, you feel small shifts from behind you. He won't admit it, but he most definitely is shifting closer to you little by little.
Eventually, you feel a hand on your side.
You decide to just make the move for him.
You grabbed his hand and pulled his arm over you, forcing him to now be pressed against your back. You felt him go damn near completely still for a moment before finally settling.
"Y'know I don't care what you do...right?" You mumble out.
"Yeah, whatever, I got it" He mumbles against your hair before holding onto you like you're gonna damn near dissappear.
The rest of the night, you are getting boiled alive. When I say, this man is an OVEN. You will be burning up. And if you try to fight your way out of his arms...yeah, good luck.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ:
You've had enough. Now, you're the one going into his room. It's late at night, and you can't seem to sleep for the life of you. As much as you don't want to admit it, maybe it's because you don't have your damn heater (Kid LMFAOAO) beside you.
So, you get up and go straight to his room. You do a little knock pattern, your own signature sound before walking in to see Kid lying in his bed, popping his head up, only to see you closing his door.
"Why the hell are you awake?" He asks, his voice somewhat rough with sleep. Looking at the clock on his bedside table, you realize its almost midnight...oops.
"Can't sleep," You say, walking over to his bed "Scoot over,"
He makes an annoyed groan but it's fake. He doesn't mean it. That's just Kid.
You get into his bed, under the covers and lie facing him. He lies on his back, arms behind his head, and as you're lying there, you find yourself observing his features. Staring a little too long.
He opens his eyes and looks over at you for a split second, catching you staring.
Awkward...
But suddenly, an arm is getting wrapped around your shoulders and you're getting pulled to his chest. He doesn't say anything. He just holds you.
You quickly adjust, getting comfortable, draping an arm over his waist. Now, you're the one holding him like he's going to dissapear.
The rest of the night ends up like all the others, but you love it. He loves it. You both will never admit it though.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
ᴇxᴛʀᴀ:
Although you guys won't admit it to eachother...you both accept it. Going into eachothers rooms become a nightly thing. You guys eventually just end up sleeping in the same bed every night 😭
Saw a tiktok that said "Threatened to beat him and he started smiling #watdatmean" and could only think about Kid so here we go 😭
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
You were already irritated. It had been a bad day and honestly you were just trying to get through it. What DIDN'T help, was Kid.
Everything you would do, he would tease you about. Just to get you riled up. He had been doing it for the past 30 fucking minutes.
In his defense...he didn't know you were already having a bad day.
You damn near had enough until you tried to reach for a box in the storage closet that you couldn't grab. It was on the VERY top shelf. In anyone's defense, that shit was HIGH up. You got off your tippy toes and pinched the bridge of your nose.
"Since you want to bullshit, can you get that for me?" You say sarcastically but you're obviously irritated.
"Oh c'mon, you can't reach that? It's really not that high up," He teased, shoving your shoulder.
You snapped.
You turned around, grabbing his shirt and pulling him slightly towards you.
"Kid, I'm going to beat your fucking ass."
He didn't pull away. He didn't flinch. None of that.
He started...smiling!?
"Is that supposed to be a threat?" He said, teasing again, that smile engraved into his face, but seemingly interested in your anger.
"It'd be better as a promise,"
You legit had no clue what to say. Caught-off guard was an understatement.
You let go of his shirt and pushed him back.
"Just get the fucking box." You say, walking away towards your room, walking in and slightly slamming the door. You genuinley had to stand in the middle of your room and take a deep breath. Did that really just happen?
(Suggestive language / medical procedures / gore mentioned)
WC: 1.5k
A/N: Hi guys! I start my little doctor program in about a week so I whipped this up thinking about it 😭 Please excuse me if this fic is bad, I haven't wrote in a WHILE. Hope you enjoy!
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
The patter of the rain against the ship's windows played through your head as you were cleaning up the med-bay. A plethora of things were in your arms: bandages, suture kits, needles, syringes, and more. They all needed to be checked, organized, and put away.
The faint music you had playing in the background started to play over the rain noise in your head. Suddenly, you found yourself humming to the tune as you checked the lot numbers of certain equipment, making sure it was all from the proper batch.
Your job was meticulous. But you liked it. Loved it, actually. It was worth taking care of people at their lowest or when they just needed someone to rely on. You were a caregiver at heart.
Still humming, you continued to organize equipment, the rustling of plastic hitting your ears. You got lost in the moment, like you were running on autopilot. It happened frequently.
SCREECH.
Suddenly, the door was being slung open, the metal scraping against the floor with a loud ring. You jumped, turning around to see a familiar figure.
Kid.
Except there was blood all over the floor.
Dripping from his arm.
"Oh my g—" You started, but realized you had to act quickly.
"What the hell happened?" you asked frantically, grabbing the closest towel and speeding over to him.
"Stupid fucking workshop," he said, a roughness in his voice. "Can you fix this shit?" he asked, holding his arm out to you.
"Yeah—yeah, just c'mon..." you said.
You looked down to see nothing but a large gash, damn near cutting into his muscle. Blood was consistently flowing out. You quickly wrapped the towel around his arm as tightly as you could, leading him over to one of the more comfortable beds in the bay.
Sitting him slightly at an angle, you propped his arm up on a separate surface. You watched his head sling back, his face scrunching up in pain, although he was trying to put on the whole tough-guy act.
Quickly, you grabbed a tourniquet, wrapping it around his arm and stopping the bleeding. Kid winced at your actions.
"This might take a while to get you fixed up," you said, starting to grab everything you needed to fix this damned mess.
"Whatever you gotta do, just fix the shit," he managed to rumble out, no real bite in his words. There was never any real bite in his words toward you. You simply hummed in acknowledgment, looking back at him once more.
God, he looks good like that...
No! What's wrong with you? Take care of him, dammit.
You shook your head at yourself slightly and grabbed some pain pills, quickly bringing them over to him. You quickly realized he couldn't take them himself. He didn't have his prosthetic arm on, and his other one was displayed on a med table.
Great.
You swallowed hard.
"Here, take these for me..." Your tone was softer than usual. You couldn't help it. Watching as he tilted his head up in the slightest, the visible knot between his brows showing the pain he refused to admit he was in, you put the small cup of pills up to his mouth, tilting it forward and letting them make their way in.
You then brought a small cup of water to his lips, looking at him for just a second before realizing he had been staring directly at you this entire time. You started to push the cup forward slightly, letting him get some water. You looked back up at him, his eyes practically piercing into yours.
Damn.
Okay.
After a second too long of staring, you took the water away, once again shaking your head slightly at whatever that was.
"Good?" you simply asked.
You got a grunt in return, his head thrown back again.
"That should help," you said, grabbing the pile of supplies you had gotten out and bringing them over to your now-established workstation.
Another grunt in response.
"I need surgery or somethin'? What's all this shit for?" he asked, eyes widening slightly at everything you brought over. He was being a smartass, though.
"Just stitches, asshole," you replied, causing a small laugh to come from him.
His laugh caused a smile to appear on your face. You sat down, set everything up, and finally started to fix this mess. You pulled out two syringes: a local anesthetic and another shot.
"I'm gonna give you these. One numbs it, one makes sure you're not gonna get an infection or anything, yeah?" you said, talking him through the steps you were taking.
You got a small "yeah" in response.
"One... two... three... deep breath... and you're done," you said for both shots, throwing them into the nearest biohazard bin. You started to quietly clean his arm up, watching his face finally begin to unscrunch and his muscles relax.
"Meds helping you at all?" you asked while shoving gauze into the gash across his arm.
"Yeah," he grunted out, leaning fully back and getting comfortable in the bed, realizing he was going to be here for a while.
You hummed in acknowledgment, letting moments of silence go by as you worked on his arm. Cleaning his arm, you tried your absolute best not to butcher this any further. Thinking about it, you finally decided to ask.
"How'd this happen?" you asked, not looking at him, continuing to work on his arm.
He was silent for a moment, but then he spoke up.
"I was working on something," he said, the usual roughness in his voice fading.
"Something?" you asked.
"Shit for my arm," he said, lifting his amputated arm slightly before putting it back down. He was always working on that damn thing.
"And?" you asked.
He looked over at you, and you looked up at the same time.
"And I slid past the stupid piece of shit without paying attention," he said as he stared at you a little too long before turning his head the other way.
You hummed in acknowledgment and started to change your gloves, throwing all the dirty cleaning supplies away.
"We all have our accidents," you simply said, starting to put a new pair of gloves on.
"I don't do accidents," he said, finding himself watching you.
"So you did this on purpose?" you teased, seeing the knot return between his brows.
"No—" he started.
"You just said you don't do accidents, though?" you teased again, the scowl on his face growing.
"Shut the hell up," he said. Again, with no real bite in his voice.
You hummed in acknowledgment, followed by a little laugh. You didn't notice, but his face lit up when he heard your laugh. His eyes were locked on you like no other. You were like a breath of fresh air. He'd never know how to react to that feeling.
You finally sat down and started to suture the gash on his arm, your movements quick, efficient, but meticulous. A period of silence passed between you both, the faint music you had playing in the background filling the lack of conversation.
You started humming again. You were honestly doing it subconsciously; it was a habit at this point. Plus, it was helping you focus.
Kid found himself looking at you again, not being able to take his eyes off of you. He didn't know why he couldn't.
Usually, with anyone else, he'd find the humming annoying. Maybe even tell them to shut up. But he oddly found himself enjoying yours. He'd never heard you hum before.
And he'd love to hear it again.
And again.
You both got lost in the silence and faint music in the background, the med-bay becoming a sanctuary for both of you. It felt like nothing could interrupt you both. The silence wasn't awkward. It was comfortable.
Suddenly, he spoke up.
"Thanks, Y/N."
You stopped.
For just a moment.
"Don't thank me," you said, looking up at him and giving him a small smile.
"You're not a problem, Kid."
"I'm more than happy to take care of you."
You watched his expression falter for just a moment before going back to its normal state. He gently rested his head back on the bed, staring at the wall. You went back to work.
The silence loomed over the both of you again.
Kid found himself staring at you again. He'd never admit it, but he liked your slightly off-tune humming. The way you slightly bit the inside of your cheek when focusing on something. The way you were extra careful with him, even though he could destroy everything within a mile radius if he really wanted to.
God, what the hell is he thinking?
You're killing him here.
You started to get toward the end of your sutures, looking up to see if he was doing okay. I mean, you'd been zoned out for the past ten minutes.
You looked up to see him already looking at you.
You brushed it off and looked back down to focus, but you could feel his eyes piercing into you. You looked up at him once more and then back down.
A/N: Okay guys...reading this over again 😬 This kind of sucks omg I'm so sorry 💔 LMAOO I'm still going to post it though bc I want to get something out to you guys. Anywayssss more to come! (And better writing...trust, I'll get the hang of it eventually 🥳)
I believe that Kid is genuinely one of the most complex characters, and with that, I also believe that he dies down that 'over the top' attitude when he's around the people that he loves.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ:
You start to notice that when you and Kid are alone, he can actually be relatively quiet. This particular day, you were just sitting in his workshop on the back couch. You needed a break from everyone. So...you ended up here.
Kid's workshop definitely looks like something a damn divorced dad would have. Flags all over the wall. Random couch in the back. Random fridge with magnets all over it. Stuff everywhere (but it's cool shit so you can't complain...).
The faint smell of metal and random chemicals hit your nose. The random song he had playing on the speaker, slightly ringing in your ears.
He'll shake his head as he sees you stumble over your words, but as he turns back to whatever he's working on, he'll find a smile curling at the edge of his lips.
Oh, curse you for making him feel like that. (He loves it.)
From that day on, you honestly never ask him about it again. You just learn to enjoy the comfortable silence in his workshop. I mean, there's been times where you will genuinley fall asleep on that stupid little couch in the back.
And guess what?
You'll wake up with a blanket ontop of you. The music less loud. The metal clinking to a minimum. And the only light is coming from the lamp on his desk where he's working, dimly lighting the room.
You'll go to say something about it, but just as you do...you realize.
Always had a feeling that Kid's love language would be a mix of physical touch & acts of service. I mean, he's definitely built. Would be a shame to put all of that to waste, right?
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ:
Physical Touch: Ever since you got close to Kid, you realized he's a bit...touchy.
He doesn't let many people touch him, nor does he like people touching him, but if you're one of those people that he mentally allows...boy, you're in for it.
He won't realize he's doing it, but suddenly when you're talking to Killer, an arm is being slung around your shoulder and Kid is now in the conversation.
When you're in a crowd, he'll subconsciously put his hand on your lower back to guide you through.
If you're in his way, instead of speaking, he'll just move you.
Many people notice he does this by the way. You'll get confronted about it by somebody in the crew.
In private...oh god.
Will legit find any chance to grab you. Doesn't matter what it is. Will find a reason.
Sleeping with Kid is like being swallowed whole. This man is a literal oven. He HAS to have some part of him touching you. That could be a hand, an arm, or simply just him lying ontop of you. Again, he would never admit it though. But as soon as he gets in bed, lying against you.
Man is KNOCKED OUT.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Acts of Service: The annoying kind of help. You grow to love it though, because you know when he says no, he's already doing what you asked.
One of my favorite headcannons about Kid is that if he really loves you, he'll start making & giving you little trinkets out of metal scraps.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ:
Getting close with Kid and then suddenly finding little scraps of metal on your dresser, on your desk, or anywhere you would see it.
It starts off as things like shapes. Y'know? Stars, little boxes, etc.
But then one day you find your favorite animal on your dresser.
Then your favorite flower.
Then your favorite item.
And more and more and more, until you damn near have pounds of metal.
Of course, there's only one person who could be doing this. He was also the last person you'd expect to be doing this. He was really listening to you? The endless yapping. The random bitching. The stories of your past. Every damn word. But everytime you try to mention it to him, he brushes it off.
The average confrontation goes a little something like this:
