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nethhiri · 5 months

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Marooned: Chapter 30

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Sexual themes

Just Desserts

"I'm invited, right?" Of note, Kid was not working on fixing the wall. He was fiddling with something small and metallic, trying to shape it.

Killer was sitting on Kid's workbench, lost in thought. "Huh? No!"

That seemed to surprise Kid. "What do ya mean 'no'?!"

"You'll do something to piss her off and then she'll leave." Killer crossed his arms.

"But I like spaghetti."

"I'll save you some!"

Kid shrugged. "Fine."

Killer narrowed his eyes under his mask. He knew Kid and he knew Kid had no intention of leaving them alone. "Kid..." Killer's tone was a warning.

"I said fine!" Kid scowled. "But you better invite me to whatever happens after." Kid looked at Killer with a quirked eyebrow and a grin.

"That's not..." Killer gave up. "Yeah, sure." He rolled his eyes. He didn't even expect that you would agree, let alone want to join him afterwards for anything. Killer mainly wanted to do something nice for you since you had shielded his face from the crew. That wasn't something that he took lightly. He had broken your nose after all. It would have easily been fair not to do anything. His cheeks got warm thinking about how flustered you had been. Even if it was more for yourself than for him, your concern was cute. Killer could tell you were trying your best to earn your place. He needed to distract his thoughts before he started to get nervous. "What are you working on?"

"None of yer business." Kid moved his hand to cover the thing he was making.

Maybe it was Killer's imagination, but he thought Kid's face flushed. Killer was surprised Kid didn't want to tell him what it was. Sometimes Kid did that. Especially if he wanted to make sure it worked first. Kid did not take constructive criticism well.

"She kinda had yer ass, huh?" Kid smirked. Kid thought it was kinda hot when you were choking Killer out. He wished it was with your thighs though. And that it was him.

It was Killer's turn to scoff. "I would have won if my helmet didn't come off."

"I don't know..." Kid teased. "Ya seemed to struggle there."

Killer shook his head. "You fight her then."

Kid waved his hand in dismissal. "I already have. Piece of cake."

"That was when she was still half-starved." Killer pointed out. "She's stronger now, probably not even at her peak."

Kid considered this. "Yeah I guess her ass has gotten fatter." Actually, you had filled back out quite nicely thanks to Killer's cooking. You were a far cry from the girl on the island, scrawny, and all lean-muscle. You were still muscular, though putting weight on in all the right places.

Killer sighed. "Not what I meant." Killer was a man. He was not immune to noticing these things. "But... I do agree." And though your boobs were pressed into his face, he had noticed your stomach more than anything. Your crop top left the skin of your mid-section bare. His hand had brushed against it, feeling how warm and soft it was. He wanted to know what it felt like to lay on it, bury his face in it, have it in his grip. It made him proud that your body reflected how much you enjoyed his cooking. He wondered if you would let him feed you a few bites. He had to stop thinking about it before he gave himself heart palpitations.

Kid noticed the angle of the light coming through the window, hues of deep orange. "Shouldn't ya get started in the galley soon?"

Killer saw how low the sun hung in the sky, jumping up from his seated position on Kid's workbench. "Shit!" He stumbled over his feet and hopped on one foot to keep from tripping before he ran out the door.

The captain shook his head. "All that fuss fer one bitch." He looked down at the small, silver, crescent shaped object on the table, spinning it around with his finger, elbow resting on the table with his head in his other hand. He flicked it across the room and drummed his fingers on the wood. With a frustrated growl, he stomped across the room and picked it back up, shoving it into his pocket. I'm no better.

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You decided to take a short nap before dinner, sprawling yourself over Minerva's back. The warmth from her back and her rhythmic, soft snoring put you to sleep in seconds. It was a blink to you. That hadn't felt like a nap at all, but it was dim outside so some time had, in fact, passed. You would have slept until the next morning save for the smell of food beckoning you to the mess hall. Not even bothering to get off Mini, you rode her down for dinner. At this point, no one batted an eye. There was a glaring problem. There was an egregious absence of spaghetti on the plates that you could see. You dismounted and walked to the galley, leaving Mini to perform her evening rounds, where she circled the tables with her mouth open until someone tossed something in, or sniffed the ground for dropped morsels.

Flinging open the galley doors, you started to complain, "WHERE'S THE SPAG-....hetti.... Oh." There was spaghetti. On two plates. Across from each other. With a candle in the middle. You didn't move, still processing what was in front of you. Your heartbeat started to race. Oh fuck. You replayed the conversation in your head. He had been asking you to dinner, not asking you to choose dinner for the crew. Asking me to dinner!

"Is something wrong?" Killer's hands suddenly got sweaty. He saw the blank look on your face and panicked internally.

"I... No." You blinked. Killer was fiddling with his apron balled up in his hands. "No. This looks great." You tried to convince him with a smile. You were kicking yourself for not realizing. You didn't even change clothes! You probably smelled like boar! Killer was going to regret this. You reached for a stool, which Killer quickly pulled out for you. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to." Killer sounded happy, his hands were still sweaty, but he was nervous in a more excited way now. He joined you in sitting at the opposite end of the table. It was the prep table dressed up with a tablecloth and a candle. A candle that he had to bribe Heat to let him borrow.

You were frozen, only moving when you saw that Killer was waiting for you to take a bite first. After the first bite, it was hard to stop. It was delicious. You were eating it by the forkful, hardly stopping to chew. Killer was watching you intently. "S-sorry." You dabbed your mouth with a napkin. "That wasn't... ladylike." You forgot this was a date and you were supposed to behave a certain way.

Killer laughed. "Who cares? I'm glad that you like it enough to wear it."

You relaxed, then realized what he had said and looked down. "Ah fuck." There was some sauce on your shirt. You squinted. "What the...?" There was a purplish smudge.

Killer cleared his throat. "I think it's um... my lipstick, from earlier. Sorry."

You really wished you had changed. Lipstick? Kid wore it but you wouldn't have guessed Killer did, since the helmet would block it. Your eyes shifted to Killer, who still had his helmet on. He was moving his fork around, not actually eating. It was because his helmet was in the way, though you couldn't help but feel a squeeze in your stomach, thinking maybe that it was you. "Do you want me to turn around? Or close the eye that works?" You laughed apprehensively.

The truth was that Killer was working up the courage to take his helmet off. He wanted to. He knew you had already seen his face. It was a mental hurdle that he was trying his best to get past. "No." His heart was pounding out of his chest and his blood rushed in his ears, but the soft, encouraging look you gave him had his hands reaching for the clasp on his helmet. He wasn't worried about anyone coming in. He gave Wire strict orders that no one, not even Kid, was allowed to come in.

It felt wrong to watch, averting your gaze to the plate in front of you to give him time. When you heard the soft thud of his helmet on the wooden table, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his. They were every bit of icy, piercing blue as you remembered them. His bangs fell over them until he pushed them back with his hand. The smile on his face lacked any confidence, endearing all the same. "I've never seen you with lipstick on before. I think the purple looks nice." Though that part was new, it was the same handsome face that had washed up on the beach. Your compliment made his smile stretch a little wider.

Neither of you knew what to say, so you ate in silence. It wasn't awkward at all. It was actually more awkward when you had been talking. This felt relaxed, a bit of peace away from the daily chaos and incredibly loud captain. The candlelight flickered, casting faint shadows on the walls.

You rolled a meatball around with your fork. "Can I make a confession?" Killer nodded, puzzled. "I didn't realize you were asking me to dinner. I thought you were just letting me pick." You shyly admitted.

Now your initial response made sense to Killer. He tensed, wondering if you wouldn't have agreed otherwise or if he made you feel uncomfortable. He was about to apologize, but you sensed his unease.

"This is nice though." You spun up another forkful of pasta. "I've... never been asked to dinner before." With a snort, you said, "I know that's probably an earth-shattering revelation." You were being sarcastic. Of course you were pretty... pretty abrasive, forward, cocky, and downright mean. People weren't scrambling to sweep you off your feet for more than a night.

The surprise in his expression was evident. "What do you mean? Never?" You nodded with another snort of laughter. "But you're-"

"Save it." You rolled your eyes. "I know what I am." It wasn't meant to be snappy, your tone was gentle, genuine. You rested your chin in your hand and smiled. You were happy with yourself. You didn't need Killer to list off things he liked about you. Obviously he liked something enough to make you spaghetti.

Killer laughed and held up his hands. "Ok ok. I'll save the flattery for Kid."

On the other side of the doors, Kid's voice carried, "Better save some spaghetti for Kid!" It sounded like he was waiting far enough away that he wasn't technically interrupting you, but close enough to be in earshot if Killer's voice was loud.

"Fuck off, Kid. I did!" Killer yelled in the direction of the voice. He would have to be more mindful of his volume. The captain seemed pleased with that since he stopped yelling. While the two of you were in the galley, the only beings remaining in the mess were Kid and Mini, awkwardly sitting in silence with each other, waiting for their respective partners. Killer shook his head, getting back to his dinner.

The two of you continued to eat, sharing small parts of each other, neither of you willing to get too deep into anything. Killer gave you some feedback about your fighting, good and bad, lest it be mistaken for flattery. There was a good chance Wire would be grumpy for the next few days. He also said that Kid had been impressed, leaving out his other comments.

The increasingly full feeling in your stomach slowed down your eating. Your gaze moved from twirling your fork to Killer. His golden hair fell around his shoulders, his sharp jawline covered in equally golden scruff at the apex, the way his cupid's bow was a perfect 'v' shape, you were always drawn back to his eyes, ever-changing shades of blue, like the ocean. He was perfect, and here you were disheveled, hair a mess, stained shirt, covered in the day's grime. "Y'know if I had realized this was a date, I would have at least taken a shower and put a clean shirt on."

"Is this a date?" Killer questioned.

Was that a hopeful tone? All the sudden, your face felt like it was on fire. "Well-," you choked on your pasta. To avoid answering and to figure out what he was thinking, you countered, "Do you want it to be?"

Killer grinned. "I want it to be whatever you want it to be." He knew what you were trying to do.

It was a stalemate. Neither of you wanted to speak anything into existence, for fear of ruining it altogether.

"FER FUCK SAKE." Kid was leaning in the doorway. "PATHETIC." Kid barged in, looking around for his plate, mocking your conversation. "What do you want? heehee no what do youuuu want?" Kid tore through the kitchen like a starving hound. "I want my fuckin dinner! I waited long enough and I'm fuckin starving! Just fuckin kiss already!" Kid took the lid off the pot of pasta. "Bingo!"

Killer snatched Kid's wrist faster than you could see. "No. Hands."

"Wouldn't hafta use em if ya had made me a fuckin plate like I asked!"

You watched on as they squabbled. Killer was essentially wrestling Kid away from the pasta. It seemed as though there may have been a history of Kid contaminating the food by eating with his hands, about right for your characterization of him. In the midst of it, Killer had put his mask back on. It was nice to see his face while it lasted. It kind of pissed you off. One nice moment in your otherwise brutal and chaotic life, and the King of Chaos himself comes to ruin it. You were finished with dinner, but maybe you had wanted to talk to Killer longer, maybe you had wanted to steal a kiss. You definitely did, who were you kidding?

"I'll leave you two to it," you said with a hint of venom, glaring at Kid. Switching to a softer voice, "Thank you, Killer. That was a lovely...evening." You winked at him. "Too bad it didn't have a chance to be even more lovely. Kid."

Kid pointed back and forth between where you had been standing and Killer, "Doffs dat mee weee ain huckin?"* He had a mouthful of pasta. One good thing about red lipstick is that you couldn't tell how much of the pasta sauce hadn't made it into his mouth.

Killer folded his arms and let out a defeated sigh. "I told you that you would piss her off and she would leave."

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There was a soft knock at the door to the women's quarters. You were tucked in bed after a piping hot shower, reading an old newspaper. There was a lot you missed when you were on that island, and Heat was nice enough to pull the highlights from his collection. Every now and then, you would explain something particularly eventful to Minerva. Emma called for you. Strange. You weren't expecting anything. Your eyebrows went up when you saw Killer. He had his normal first-mate air about him, all business, relaxing only when Emma left. You looked at him for elaboration.

"I'm sorry about Kid." He rubbed his arm.

You shrugged. "That's not for you to apologize for. Kid happens." You leaned against the doorframe. "That's not all you came for though, is it?" You picked up on the way his hands kept fidgeting. Cute.

Killer cleared his throat, "I... uh. I made dessert, too, but we didn't get to it." He sucked in a deep breath. "Do you want to have some? I remembered how much you liked chocolate cake." Rather, he remembered you drunkenly eating it from his hand and the feeling of your tongue around his fingers.

You felt your mouth water. "I could go for some I suppose." You crossed your arms, thinking. You were in your pajamas, nothing extravagant, a simple cotton button up shirt and matching shorts. It was chilly out and you really didn't want anyone to see you in pjs.

Killer took your hesitation as a negative. "You don't have to. I can go."

You grabbed his arm before he could turn. "No, I want to. I just don't want to be out in pjs and I have no shoes on. I'll have to change."

The first-mate noticeably perked up. "Don't worry about that." He turned around and hunched down. "Hop on." Killer made grabbing motions with his hands, indicating that he would grab your legs. "Or I could just sling you over my shoulder. Don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, though."

You cocked your head. "And what idea does this give instead exactly?" You relented, stepping back before getting a short, running start to jump on his back, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around is waist. The image of being slung over his shoulder wasn't a bad one, if you were honest.

Killer stood up, adjusting your thighs around him in a way that was more comfortable, doing a little hop to bounce you higher on his back.

You took this opportunity to breathe in his scent, holding yourself back from burying your face in the thick golden hair tumbling down his back. A few untamed strands tickled your face as you bounced along with Killer's steps. Distracted by this possibly once-in-a-lifetime chance, you barely registered that Killer had passed the mess hall and galley, going to his room.

Killer walked over to his bed and turned around, letting you down gently.

You bounced on the edge of his bed. "Oh. I thought we would go to the galley again."

"Too risky." Killer explained. "Kid usually makes a fridge raid late." He handed you a fork and a plate with the most decadent-looking cake you had ever seen. It was multi-layered, moist, and he didn't skimp on the portions.

Eagerly, you took the plate from him and scooted back to sit more comfortably on his comforter. It was soft and it smelled like him. You watched as he grabbed his own slice, sitting across from you. Killer had swapped his jeans for sweatpants. His shirt was the same but slightly faded, an older one. "Hm. How thoughtful of you then." Now that you had a better grasp of the situation, your confidence had returned in full. You preferred to be in control.

Killer was looking at you expectantly. You assumed so anyway, his mask was pointed in your direction.

Bringing a forkful to your mouth, you were barely two chews in and already reaching for another bite. Much like the spaghetti, you were inhaling the cake. "Good god, Killer." You had to resist saying something downright filthy, not wanting to ruin the otherwise sweet moment. "I didn't know I had a heart until you found your way to it with your fucking cooking."

A pink tint spread down his neck.

"I wish I could return the favor, but I'm sure you've noticed I'm not great in the kitchen." You took another bite, humming your satisfaction.

Killer huffed a partial laugh from his nose. "You're... not great," he agreed. "But," he continued, "you're... good company."

You rolled your eyes. "I know that's not true." You thought he was being sarcastic.

"No I mean it." Killer said in earnest. "You're nice to look at."

"Oh so I'm your kitchen eye-candy then, huh?"

"Don't act like it doesn't go both ways," he retorted.

You hmphed. "So? It's not equal because I can only ogle from the neck down." You smirked at him.

Killer took a deep breath and sighed. "Fine." His hand came up to the back of his neck, hesitating, then unlatching his helmet for the second time that night. He set his helmet down next to him. "Ogle away."

It was difficult to peel your eyes away from him. He was probably planning to remove it at some point regardless since he hadn't attempted to eat his own cake before then. "Don't mind if I do." You laughed and kept eating away at your slice. While you did so, you looked around his room. It was kept neat, as expected. Your eyes settled on a picture. It was difficult to see from your position, though you could make out who you assumed to be Kid and Killer, with a third, smaller person between them. They looked familiar, similar to the picture of the girl you saw in Kid's things. You didn't ask about it. It would be hypocritical of you to press for information about their past when you were so against it when they did the same to you. Though, one could argue, they owe you at least that much in return.

"Hey, Y/N," Killer wavered, unsure whether to ask or not. "Remember back when we rescued you from the island with the marine base, after the fire?" He waited for you to nod, letting his bangs hide his face in place of his mask. "You were kind of out of it, but you said you liked m-my laugh... Did you mean it?" He looked up at you until one of his sapphire eyes met yours.

"What? Of course I meant it." You looked at him, questions evident in your expression.

Killer noticeably straightened up. "I don't really like it myself." Killer paused. He didn't know how much he wanted to say on the matter. "I used to get made fun of." He shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. You knew better, since he cared enough to bring it up.

"I would love to see someone try it now." You put down your empty plate. "You could put them down without even dirtying your punishers." Pretending to jab someone with your fork, you added, "Or I'll add them to my hit list."

Killer grinned, amused by your comments, not elaborating any further on his past. "You have frosting on your face."

Could you go one second without getting food on yourself? You searched for it with your hand, trying to wipe it off.

The man across from you grinned wider and wider every time you missed, enjoying your struggle. "Let me get it." He leaned over and swiped his thumb across your cheek, a fair bit away from your mouth. Who knows how it got there?

Half-expecting him to let you lick it from his thumb, you were surprised when he did it himself. "Maybe I wanted that," you said teasingly.

Killer ran his finger through the remaining frosting on his plate, eyeing it, then motioning you over with it. "Come get some then."

You crawled over until you were sitting on your feet, kneeling in font of him. Taking his finger in your mouth, you put your lips around its base and sucked the frosting clean off, licking around his fingertip for good measure before you released him with a pop. It was nearly the same as the first time, though now you were completely sober.

Killer shivered. He wasn't planning on letting you have your way tonight. You made it so tempting though, the way your eyes stared into his as your soft lips enveloped his finger.

Testing his boundaries, you leaned forward, hands on his knees. You gave him the chance to pull back, searching his eyes for an answer. His eyes flicked to your lips. That was an answer enough for you before lightly pressing your lips against his. You smiled against him before pulling away and opening your eyes. As you settled back on your feet, Killer was reaching out for your face, pulling it gently back to him. His other hand ran down your side, catching your waist and tugging you closer until you were sitting side-saddle in his lap. Finally some of the tension that had been building was released. You sighed into his mouth as your lips moved against his, hands sliding around his neck and into his hair. Similarly, his hand slid through your hair until it was on the back of your head, pressing you into him. His other hand didn't wander, simply held you close. He groaned as you nipped his lip and slid your tongue into his mouth. When you both pulled away, you leaned your head against his chest. There was a tightening coil in your gut, that was certain. There was something else, too. Butterflies?

Killer put one arm around your back and one arm under your legs, picking you up bridal style.

Your heartbeat quickened. Was he finally gonna let you have it? Yes throw me on the bed and rip my clothes off already! The lust cleared from your mind when he started moving away from the bed. Then it came back in a thicker fog. Shower sex? Bathtub? Kid's room? Even though you were mad at him, your pussy wasn't. The lust was vacuumed from your mind for good when Killer set you down in front of the sink and put a toothbrush in your hand. You looked from it to Killer and back.

"Brush your teeth before bed, princess."

You frowned deeply. "You weren't putting very princess-like thoughts in my head," you grumbled.

Killer out his hand on your shoulder affectionately. "Me? Never." His hand moved to pinch your cheek in a playful way.

You squinted at him in the mirror, catching sight of the outline of something in his sweatpants, you whipped around on him, pointing at his crotch. "Oh come on!" You said through a mouthful of toothpaste. "You're fuckin half-hard!" You turned around to spit and rinse your mouth out.

Killer made a noise of denial. "I'd say quarter-hard." The quirk in the corners of his lips made it all too clear that he was thoroughly enjoying this.

Rounding on him again, you pleaded, "Just the tip? Please?"

He tsked. "Begging only works on Kid. You have to earn it from me." He ruffled your hair. "You are very cute when you beg though, breadcrumb."

Walking back into his room, Killer cleared the plates from the bed and pulled back the covers, motioning for you to hop in.

"I can stay?"

"Just because I don't want to fuck tonight doesn't mean I want you to leave."

You slid in next to him, half-laying over him on your stomach while he was on his back so you could look at him. He put his arm around you to rest his hand on your lower back. That sent electricity up your spine that you did your best to repress. Thinking about your date, you grinned up at him.

"What?" He narrowed his eyes at you, knowing you had something smart to say. It was interesting how much better he could read you than when you first met.

"Thanks for trusting me with your face even though you won't trust me with your cock." Even though it was disguised as a joke, it had true sentiment behind it. That must be a huge deal to leave his helmet off for so long with someone who was arguably still a little bit of a stranger. It was probably made easier by the fact, you had already seen him for some time before then.

Killer allowed himself a short laugh and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Patience is a virtue." It didn't take long for you to drift to sleep. He watched the features of your face twitch as you entered your first dream of the night. Killer normally took a lot longer to warm up to someone. He didn't know himself what made him so comfortable around you. You acted similarly to Kid, with a charming roughness and feisty personality, and he loved Kid. Maybe that made it natural for him to begin to love you, too.

Next Chapter

#sorry this is a lot of dialogue #Killer is still being a fucking tease #my favorite bits are actually Kid's interjections #marooned #one piece #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer #eustass kid #x reader #I like how they start off unsure/nervous and they end up falling into a natural groove #it took me a long time to get this one right guys

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