#i couldn't let this hunky giant go and this scenario has been living in my head ever since

[loguetowns]

blood red.

cw. mentions of blood/wounds, swearing.

fangs bared and flaring tempers. animosity in every look, an intensity that bubbles from just being in the same room. hate burns red, but then again, so does love. after all, isn't hate still an emotion of passion?

king is annoyed. he's pissed off, irritated – maybe even angry.

he drums his fingers against the fabric of the armchair. there’s a rip in his shirt, his hair is a mess, and – worst of all – his helmet is broken. he pushes his hair out of his face, irked that he can’t tie it up.

the bane of his existence walks in with a first aid kit. he sighs, loudly and obnoxiously, and you glare at him as you sit down.

“don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

“who’s the one that made it difficult in the first place?”

without missing a beat, you simply state, "that would be you."

you carry on, unwrapping bandages, as king merely gapes at you. ever since kaidou placed you under his supervision, you have been nothing but disrespectful, disobedient and disruptive to what should have been an otherwise simple job.

"i'm not the one who tried to climb out a 10-story window," he hisses. "i should've let you fall straight into those thorns."

"no one asked you to help," you reply coolly.

the absolute gall of you.

"believe me, i don't care if you die," he squirms in his seat, biting back the sting of his cuts. "but kaidou wants you alive."

"as if i care what kaidou wants," you mutter as you cut away at his shirt. when he pulls away, you hold down his arm. "stop moving."

the idea of some brat ordering him around makes his blood boil, and if it weren't for the fact that he'd likely start bleeding again, king would love nothing more than to put you in your place.

"i'm not the problem," you continue, ignoring his death glare. "you're the one that's been hissy this whole time. you must be nothing special if your only responsibility is babysitting."

at the attack on his pride, his last thread of patience snaps. "you annoying brat! can't you just fucking cooperate?"

"fuck you!" you finally crack, a fierce anger taking over. "you want people to cooperate then maybe don't lock them up!"

"i wouldn't have to lock you up if you weren't such a pain in the ass!"

"i wouldn't be a pain in the ass if you weren't being an ass to begin with!" you grab his arm. "now fucking hold still!"

you slap disinfectant on king's bloody gash, and he howls at the sting. "that hurts, dammit!"

he glowers at you, seething at the pain. you tell yourself that he deserves it, but – to your annoyance – you can't bring yourself to relish in his suffering. unfortunately, you're not nearly as heartless as king is.

there's a twinge of guilt as you take in his dirty clothes and blood-stained skin.

he wouldn't be in this mess if he didn't rush to catch you.

to king's surprise, you don't make any sort of retort or taunt at his outburst. instead, you press your lips into a thin line and start wrapping his cut in silence. you apply the bandage firmly, but gently, and it doesn't go unnoticed by king.

too angry and proud to say anything else, king merely looks away as you finish dressing his injuries.

"don't move," you deadpan when you're done. "raising your arms will only open the wound."

"fine," he grits. he shakes the hair out of his face, growling in irritation when it don't move the way he wants it to.

you watch as he sighs in resignation, and that stupid voice inside you tells you to do the right thing. you curse your guilty conscience.

"here, let me help."

you stand behind king, carefully gathering his loose curls together. the air is thick with awkwardness as your gentle hands betray the hostility that you're both used to. you start tying his ponytail and take a deep breath.

"thank you," you say in a voice barely above a whisper. "for saving me."

king stills, at a crossroads for how he wants to handle this. it takes this small admission of your gratitude to make him stop and realize the gravity of the situation.

he did help you.

king – one of the all-stars of the beast pirates, right-hand-man to kaidou – showed you mercy when he had no reason to.

and you – captive of the beast pirates, prisoner against your wishes – showed him a grace that he doesn't really deserve by tending to his injuries when you had no reason to.

still staring at the wall, he mutters,

"you're welcome."

like it or not, the two of you are stuck here together – and maybe with some time and a little bit of kindness, you could learn to like it.

part of my (ongoing) character + colour series!

#one piece king x reader #op king x reader #king x reader #one piece king #one piece x reader #not proofread and i'm not sorry about it #to the anon who requested king + red ages ago: this is so long overdue and idek if you're still around but #i couldn't let this hunky giant go and this scenario has been living in my head ever since #so pls accept my humble apology #anyway if you thought that this scene seems familiar #it is (heavily) inspired by that scene in beauty and the beast when belle is tending to the beast's wounds after she saves him #that movie taught me everything i need to know about enemies-to-lovers ok #¡! ❞ [ fics ] #¡! ❞ [ reqs ] #.cc