One Piece x Reader [OPEN]

104. Let's talk tomorrow ( Kid x Female!Reader)

And now?

Now, you had this. A crew. A name feared across the seas. Nights filled with reckless laughter, with singing and shouting and drinking, with people who had survived beside you, fought beside you, bled beside you.

They had made it.

And yet—

Your fingers tighten around your cup, just slightly. The worry never quite leaves, does it? No matter how loud the laughter is, no matter how much they've won, there's always that part of you that watches, that waits, that keeps an eye out for the moment things go too far. Because they always do.

Because Kid doesn't know when to stop. Because Killer will stay standing long past when he should've fallen. Because Heat and Wire will throw themselves into any madness if it means keeping up.

Because Dive is currently unconscious. On the deck. In the stairs.

How?

You stare at her for a long moment. Maybe you should do something about this.

Then her earlier words echo in your head. You're a mother hen.

You look around again. The passed-out crew. The absolute chaos. The sheer level of stupidity on display.

Oh, god.

She might be right.

Because if you don't step in, who the hell is going to make sure nobody dies tonight?

With a deep sigh, you brace yourself. Looks like you're playing mom for the night. Again.

The first order of business? Dive.

She's the easiest to deal with right now—completely unconscious, dead weight, and incapable of starting any new disasters. The same can't be said for the rest of the crew. If you start trying to corral Kid or put a stop to whatever unholy competition Heat and Wire are involved in, you'll be at it until sunrise. No, Dive first. Then you can deal with the mess.

You crouch down and scoop her up with practiced ease, cradling her against your chest. Her head lolls onto your shoulder, her breath warm and steady against your collarbone. With her oversized sunglasses now knocked askew on her forehead and her big, braided pigtails bobbing slightly with each step, she looks less like a fearsome pirate and more like a kid who passed out after playing too hard.

You glance at her face. Peaceful. Soft. The tiniest pout to her lips. Yeah, she's definitely not waking up anytime soon.

As you weave through the battlefield of drunkards toward the girls' quarters, a voice slurs from somewhere behind you.

"Oh my god, (Y/N), carry me like a princess too!"

You pause, glancing over your shoulder to find one of the girls, completely hammered, sprawled half-off a crate like she's about to slide to the floor. She looks at you with wide, sparkling eyes, hands clasped together like she's witnessing the most romantic moment of her life.

You sigh dramatically. "Alright, stay put and I'll serve you in a jiffy."

She gasps like you just proposed. "You're perfect."

Someone else, already halfway to the floor, waves a hand weakly. "Me next."

"Absolutely not." You adjust your grip on Dive and keep walking.

Maybe you should start charging for this.

You push open the door to the girls' quarters with your foot, carefully maneuvering Dive through the entrance without bashing her head on the frame—because knowing her luck, that'd be the one thing that would wake her up.