warnings: smut, p in v, creampie, mentions of weed and smoking, sex w feelings, daddy kink sue me, ending is shit🤷♀️
word count: 2k
authors note: haii this is just a one shot i’ve been lazy as hell but i promise the pt 2 to “his captains girl” and part 4 of “shattered hopes” will be out this week!! ill lock in for you guys i swear
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smoking with benn beckman but he’s buried in your sweet cunt as he lazily thrusts into you, taking his time as you whine and roll your hips into him desperately
you’re in his lap with your back against him, legs spread wide. his free hand is gripping under your knee, keeping you open for him as he continues to gently but deeply pound his thick cock into you. one of your hands is toying with your nipples through your thin top, while the other grips the hair at the base of his neck tightly. his other free hand is holding the joint, taking a lazy drag, watching the beautiful expressions on your face
you couldn’t manage to wrap your lips around the joint and take a full hit, so he was blowing the smoke into your mouth inbetween slow and nasty kisses for you, making sure you were reaching the other high you were looking for.
“are-ah you f-feeling better becks?” you whined out
he had been having a particularly rough day aboard the Red Force, not only dealing with an attack that damaged some of the ship from some no name pirates, but also being pulled to put out a million small fires (he swears some of these people were born yesterday). you could tell he was stressed and needed something to make him feel better. you decided that letting him fuck you during your somewhat frequent smoke sessions in his office seemed like a good way to help him out.
“mmm, of course i am, how could i have any problems when im buried in my sweet girl right now” he rasped against your ear in response
you threw your head back and moaned loudly at the possessiveness; he’d only been displaying that recently. it used to just be casual sex, helping each other out during the long weeks at sea, but lately it had become something more, something deeply intimate.
you didn’t know how it started really, you had run out of weed one night and decided to knock on his office door, and to your surprise he let you in and shared with you. he ended up enjoying your company more than he expected, and you found he was much softer than he let on. he told you to come back whenever you wanted, and so you did. you’d bring a bottle of wine and cards or a book or something and hang out with him while he finished up his work and decompressed from the day.
he kept a respectful distance from you at first, pulling up his arm chair near his desk so you were close enough to pass the j between and chat with him. but one night after finishing 2 bottles of wine you found yourself pulled into his lap, hands in his hair while you ground yourself onto the outline of his cock through his pants, his hands gripping your hips and whispering the dirtiest praises in your ear. things progressed naturally from there.
“p-please go faster becks, i need it” you whined into his ear now, needing more of him
he instantly started to pick up the pace, his composure cracking at hearing you beg for him. the joint was forgotten about in the ashtray as he brought his now free hand to grab your other knee, holding you open as he thrust deeper into you. your back arched and you pulled his hair tighter
“ohhhh daddyyyyy fucckk” you threw your head back and moaned loudly. “please cum inside me i neeed it”
you haven’t let him do that yet, always having him pull out and cum on you, feeling like it was too intimate for your little situation.
but you were feeling just as possessive of him right now and you wanted him to claim you. your plea elicited an almost growl from the older man beneath you, and you felt him start to go even faster
“yea baby? you want me mark my territory?” he groaned out as he kissed the back of your neck
“yes, yes please i’m yours daddy all yours” you babble, lost in the waves of pleasure that rolled through you, making your toes curl.
he was delighted to hear those words come out of your mouth. he had wanted to make you his the first night you had smoked with him but he didn’t want to misread the situation. he went impossibly faster now, feeling your sweet cunt clench around him tighter, warning him of your impending release.
he hooked one of your legs under his elbow and moves his hand to rub soft and gentle circles on your clit, the action opposite to the way he was currently pounding into your slick pussy. you felt that sweet heat climbing higher and higher and you couldn’t do anything but beg for him, voice desperate
“m so close i need to cum please make me cum you’re so good sooo good becks ahhh ahhh ohh my go-
your words are cut off as he takes your mouth in his, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans and pleas. he rubs your clit twice, putting the slightest amount of pressure on it, and you’re coming apart in his lap, eyes rolling back as you sob out in pleasure.
your cunt spasms around his cock, making it even more slick as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. he’s also close, he just needs a little bit more
“daaaaaaaaaadddddyyyyyy” you whimper out, sounding completely drunk off his cock as you continue milking him; the sound is so sinful he immediately seizes up and buries himself deep in you before he’s coming as well
you gasp as you feel his hot cum spurt into you, leaking out as his thrusts became sloppy and uneven.
“fucckk you’re so good to me babygirl” he groaned out, starting to sound a little wrecked himself
“you’re mine now do you understand? i don’t want anyone else to touch you like this” he said, his voice thick with desire and possessiveness
you nodded your head dumbly and you felt yourself gush a bit more on his cock at his words.
“lemme hear it baby, i know you can do it” he picked up his pace again after recovering for a few seconds, not satisfied with a nod
“AH OH fuckkk i’m yours daddy i promise” you cried out at the overstimulation. his fingers were rubbing your clit faster now, sliding his slick cock into you, working you quickly towards a second orgam. “i’ve always been yours there’s no one better than you-AH oh my goddd”
he moaned appreciatively in response as he felt your walls flutter around him again, more desperate this time. you squirmed in his lap and panted into his neck as the warm and fuzzy feeling completely overtook your senses. you started to lose control as he continued to use you, feeling yourself about to cum all over him again
“cmon baby” he whispers in your ear
“be a good girl and cum for daddy”
that’s all you needed to hear before you tensed up and squirted all over his lap, the overwhelming intimacy and overstimulation had worked you up. your legs were shaking in his grip and you just sobbed out cries of pleasure mixed with his name as you made a mess all over his lap. he growled in your ear and sped up, chasing his own high.
right as his release hit him he pulled out and came all over your pussy, rubbing his cock in between your folds as he shot ropes of cum onto you. he rasped praises about how good you were for him as the oversensitivity hit you. you went fully limp in his arms, exhausted and content. he dropped your legs and moved to hold you bridal style in his lap, pulling you close to his chest and bringing his hand up to your chin to tilt your head up. he kissed you softly now, taking his time as if he was memorizing your lips. you sighed happily into the kiss, pulling him closer to you. you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in his arms as he kissed you, the gentle intimacy between you two filling the air. you didn’t need to talk about anything, it all felt so natural already.
he pulled away to look at you and he smiled softly, bringing his thumb to rub your bottom lip before pressing one more kiss there.
“thank you so much my sweet girl, you always know how to make me feel better”
you smiled back tiredly, fading fast as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly in response. you kissed the spot where his shoulder and neck meet before you felt him pick you up, carrying you off to clean you up. you relaxed into his arms and let yourself be taken care of by him, hoping that he’ll take you to bed with him afterwards..
Benn's wanted you for ages, but is unable to act due to you being with his best friend and Captain...
Warnings: Suggestive and mentions of smut, No cheating just Benn yearning for you, and you for him, Shanks pimps you out lowkey, there will be a second chapter full of smut, was just horny as hell for Benn tonight and this came out. enjoy.
MDNI 18+ ONLY
word count: 1.3 k
I want Benn Beckmann soooo bad ugh like imagine when you joined the crew he fell for you instantly. You were alluring and a total wildcard and he liked that and he wanted you all to himself, but Shanks got to you first, seeing what he had seen in you too. And what the captain wants, the captain gets. And so, for the next couple years, Benn was forced to watch the girl of his most secret and private fantasies cling to the arm of his best friend.
It drove him nuts.
He loved Shanks like a brother, but knowing he was the one holding you, protecting you, fucking you made him wildly jealous, and he was never one to care for that type of stuff before.
Wildly jealous for Benn is subtle, though. He’s not going to go crazy but there’s definitely signs. He naturally became more protective over you, using Shanks as an excuse to guard you and be near you when he wasn’t around. “Shanks’ll have my head if I don’t keep you safe in all this chaos” or something along those lines. Everytime. And the way that no one could get close to you at the bars when Shanks wandered off for a moment, Benn naturally took his place and kept you company until he returned, warding off unwanted advances from creeps
He always had a joint rolled for you too, and a cigarette, knowing that you’d always come to him at some point, calling his name sweetly and asking with the most innocent eyes you could muster. “Benny, can you pleeeeease spare a joint for me” you’d say with a small pout. He’d never show it, but he melts at the sight every time. His thoughts will turn dirty for a moment as he’d imagine coming all over your beautiful face as you pumped your hand on his cock just right, the fantasy changing everytime. Sometimes, to keep you close, he’ll pretend he’s on his last one but offers to share with you, which you accept every time without fail, moving to sit next to him while giggling. He ached a bit knowing all he wanted to do was take you back to his room after you smoked and show you how much you drove him crazy, show you how good he could make you feel.
He could hear you with Shanks. You weren’t exactly quiet and Shanks wasn’t inexperienced. Losing an arm did not slow that man down for a second. He’d linger in the hallway, listening to your sweet gasps and whines as his friend’s name rolls off your tongue, wishing that it was him who could be touching you, hearing his name out of your sweet mouth, willing to give up anything for just one night. And sometimes he swears you feel the same way, the lingering glances across the crowded bars the crew frequents in between islands, your gaze strong and a little smug as you take a drag from your cigarette, smoke curling around your lips. Almost as if daring him to come over there. And the way your touch will linger as you two pass the joint around in a comfortable silence, your silence, enjoying the presence of one another.
One time, Shanks fucked up. It wasn’t too bad, but you were pissed and hurt nonetheless and one late night while you were up ruminating over the situation, Benn appeared with a joint and a bottle of whiskey.
You two talked for hours, moving on from your issue with Shanks quite quickly and just chatting with him about life and the past and everything. You ended up falling asleep leaning on him, and he stayed there as long as he could before he gently moved you to lay on the bench where you two had sat, leaving you alone. He didn’t think it would look good to have Shanks’s girl sleeping in his arms while they were in a fight.
Deep, deep down he had prayed that you two would split, as horrible as that sounded, but he didn’t care really. He had tried to get over you, so many times. He had slept with other women and even avoided you for a few months, but nothing worked, and he saw how sad you had gotten. He just kept coming back to you. You of course, forgave Shanks for his transgressions, his charisma and charm were extremely useful tools after all. Plus, he really did love and care for you, you weren’t just some hookup, and Benn recognized how rare that was for his friend, which is why he just dealt with his feelings and bit his tongue. That still didn’t change the way he felt though.
The stars were to align for Benn quite soon though, after him and Shanks were out at some bar on some island once more, drinking the place dry. You were asleep in Shank’s lap, straddling him and hugging him close as you used his cloak as a sort of blanket, making yourself quite cozy. The rest of the crew and even the bartender had left, having just left the bottles they had left in stock on the bar for them and heading home for the night. They were being quite rowdy at some points in their chat, though that didn’t disturb your sleep in the slightest, having been very drunk yourself and used to the antics that they display frequently.
“so” shanks says taking a swig of his drink “when are we going to talk about it”
“Talk about what?” Benn questions, taking a drag from his joint
“About the way you look at my girl” he smirked, not sounding mad at all, more amused
Benn took a looong drag from his joint, held it in just long enough the edges of his vision blurred, fully exhaled, coughed, and then looked at Shanks to respond
“You’re seeing things bub” he said cooly, no nervousness in his voice at all. Shanks laughed at that, one of his belly laughs. You stirred a bit and he moved his arm to wrap around you, petting your back soothingly.
“You only use that nickname when you feel guilty, bub” Shanks threw back quickly after recovering. “It’s okay, I don’t care, I’m open to sharing if ya want.” He shrugged.
Benn looked at him for a moment before putting his j in the ash tray and taking a swig of his drink.
“You’re wasted”
“Yea, so what? I’d say it sober too, if I ever was” Shanks joked again, acting as if he wasn’t casually offering up his girlfriend to his first mate right now.
“What’s the catch?” Benn asked now, the teensiest flicker of hope that this was real washed over him.
“No catch, I swear” Shanks crossed his heart and hoped to die, looks like someone already scratched his eye! “One night with her, I see the way she looks at you too I’m not stupid. I know she’s faithful, but I also know how she is. Gotta let my girl have some fun too, ya know? He jested again, still ever so casual about all this. This cannot have been the first time a situation like this has happened, Benn thought
“Did she mention anything to you?” Benn asked
“Nah but I’ll run it past her when she’s awake and recovered tomorrow, I have a feeling I know what she’ll say though. Shanks brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair a few times, looking down at you affectionately. “So, what do you say, you want my girl, Beck?” He now grabs his drink and holds it out to him, and invitation seal the deal.
He absolutely did. And if Shanks was going to give him the opportunity, he sure as hell was not going to waste it. He knew this was possibly his only chance to have you in the ways that he so desperately dreamed. He grabbed his cup and held it up before asking one more time.
“One night?”
“One night. And remember Beck, she’s still my girl, don’t forget it”
Trust him, he wouldn’t. That thought had painfully bounced around his head every day for the past two years of his life.
Benn nodded before they clinked glasses once, officially agreeing to what anyone would call, pimping your girlfriend out to your best friend (You want it too don’t worry). He chugged the rest of his drink before standing up, grabbing the rest of his joint from the ashtray and making his leave for the night, leaving you and Shanks as he headed back towards the ship.
His every last nerve was on fire at the conversation he’d just had, relighting his joint and smirking to himself as he smoked. His mind was racing with all the things he was going to do to you, as soon as he got the chance.
Summary: the little girl finally woke up, she partially remember the things that led her where she is now.
Tags: platonic!shanks x oc, platonic!red hair pirates oc, angst, hurt to comfort, oc backstory
Tw: description of blood, burnt injuries, death (not main characters), fire. (If I forgot something, let me know)
Her body was on fire, she felt burning everywhere, and cold shivers ran down her spine. The constant rolling of the sea and the rotten smell the barrel held inside didn't help much. More than once she'd believed she was in the afterlife with her ancestors. Her only certainty was the slow, steady vibrations of the Kitetsu, but now they were further away than before.
A small grunt left her throat, a sudden feeling of thirst overcame her. How long had it been since she'd last drunk? One of her small hands tightened imperceptibly, and only then did her brain register the change in sensations.
The hard, cold floor of the barrel was gone, replaced by what appeared to be sheets, but there was something around her hands that prevented her from better understanding their texture. She was still in a state of sleep, but her brain was returning to activity, trying to reconstruct the moments that had brought her here.
But nothing she remembered made sense.
Nothing she remembered could be connected to this moment.
She only remembered fragments of her old island; the panic and fear that had formed in her stomach back then was returning with a vengeance.
It was supposed to be a day of celebration, the day she and the other kids her age could join the Young Builders. She remembered putting so much effort into building that little dagger, she had poured her heart into it, she had worked on it for months, and although it wasn't as beautiful or perfect as she had imagined, it was still hers.
The happy and proud faces of her family blossomed in her mind like little lotus flowers.
It was supposed to be a celebration for the entire village, but it turned into hell.
Suddenly, the roof of the temple where they were standing caught fire, and panic spread over the people inside like lightning on water. She remembered being pushed, trampled, and pulled in various directions, but her grip on her small, battered dagger never loosened.
It was her treasure, to be guarded.
Before she knew the ground gave way beneath her feet; someone had lifted her just as a piece of ceiling fell to the floor where she was sitting. She tried to look at the face of the person who had saved her, but her mind prevented her; they were only blurred, hazy figures.
Then, darkness and screams.
So many screams.
When the images returned to torment her poor chain of memories, she found herself in the center of the village. She felt crushed by a weight she couldn't describe. When she turned, she saw the stranger's body on top of her, no longer moving.
She had tried to wake them, but she hadn't succeeded.
That was when she saw them.
White demons setting houses on fire.
They were destroying everything she had ever known. She could see some of her people trying to fight them, even some children she knew trying to fight them off.
But it was all in vain.
They had strange objects in their hands that allowed them to throw something small that pierced flesh.
A roar shook the air around her, a scream of pure agony followed immediately after. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, her hands digging into the ground, trying to free themselves from the weight that imprisoned her.
She wouldn't die like this.
She redused that, she couldn't, she had so much to learn.
With a final effort, she managed to escape from the now helpless body of her savior. Her hands were bleeding from the small shards of glass and stone that had dug under her nails, but she didn't care. The adrenaline coursing through her body prevented her from feeling any of the pain; it was as if that body no longer belonged to her but to someone else.
She felt like a stranger; this wasn't how she'd dreamed that day, this wasn't part of her life.
Yet here she was, the houses were burning, and she saw the people she'd known her entire life drop like flies, as if they were insignificant to these white demons who had decided to use them so atrociously.
She looked down at her hands again, and suddenly the dagger appeared between them. She held it tightly as if letting go would mean surrender. The bluish, jagged blade was soaked in blood, making him fall to the ground in terror. Had she killed someone?
The fire was now permeating every house, a sharp pain and a cold heat had taken over her body. She fell to the ground, rolling in agony that clung to her like the warm sap of a fig tree.
She couldn't tell how much time passed, whether she lost consciousness or not, but the images changed again.
She dragged herself along, groping, the dagger clutched in one hand, feeling hot as if a strong fever were consuming her from within. She just wanted to go home. The island's dense woods allowed her to reach the most isolated building quickly, the trees allowing her to lean on them when she felt her legs give out.
Dirt was caked in her hair, blood was dripping from her knee, her arms were marked by tortuous lines of burned skin, but she couldn't stop. She wanted to reach the river behind her house. Maybe there she could continue playing with her brothers, there she could rest and lean against one of those barrels where her father kept wine for special occasions.
If only she had known that fate had other plans for her.
The blue door that marked the house was finally visible through the trees. She remembered dragging herself up the stairs, opening the door, and then...
Nothing.
The light was starting to bother her eyelids, removing the remnants of sleep that had clung to her lashes. How long had she slept?
Maybe it had all been a bad dream; the fire and the white demons didn't exist. But when she opened her eyes and the room around her began to take shape, she felt her heart sink into an abyss of fear and realization.
This wasn't her room.
A small porthole on the opposite side of her bed depicted the ocean, the horizon stretching until the blue of the sea merged with the blue of the sky. Her gaze shifted to the table beneath the window: syringes, vials, and a small plant with blue flowers rested on the weather-worn wood.
"You're awake."
Her head snapped toward the source of the voice, her eyes wide like a child caught stealing candy.
A man with blond hair pulled back in a ponytail sat at a desk, a scar running vertically across his forehead to his right eye. He looked at her in surprise, as if he didn't expect her to wake up. The words that had come out of his mouth seemed merely a way of reassuring himself that what he saw was real.
No one could tell which of them seemed more surprised to see the other.
A scream tore through her throat, more like the cawing of a crow, hoarse and deep, and she didn't even think the voice belonged to her.
The man looked frozen on his place, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over him. But it took him a moment to recover from the shock.
"Hey, hey, it's okay... I won't hurt you... no one here wants to hurt you..." The blond man held out his hands as if trying to calm a frightened and aggressive dog. He watched with sadness and compassion as the little girl tried to move, but it was obvious that the pain in her arms was preventing her.
"Wait, let me help you." He approached gently, stopping next to her until he met the tired and hurt gaze of the little girl, who gave him permission to help her. His hands were gentle, though rough; he must have spent a lot of time doing manual labor, the little girl declared, now sitting up straighter on the bed.
She tried to speak again to thank him and to ask him all sort of questions, but only coughs and scratching sounds came out of her mouth. The man moved quickly, handing her a glass of cold water. She tried to move her arm, but a gentle hand settled like a feather on her forearm, keeping it pinned to the bed.
"It's best if you don't move for a while...it'll hurt a lot if you try. Let me do it for you." A small, friendly smile stretched across the stranger's lips. He tilted the glass toward the little girl's mouth so she could drink without too much trouble, putting it down only when she had finished all the water.
"You've been asleep for a long time, you know? Knocked out completly. I was starting to worry you'd never wake up." His eyes were soft and almost melancholy, as if he hadn't expected this moment to ever come even if he tryed to sound light. The man sat down on a stool next to her bed; he must have been there for a long time.
"Anyway, I'm Hongo, and I'm the doctor on this ship. You had some very infected burns, and I couldn't leave you like that." Finally, the little girl could give a man to the man who had been so kind to her; she wanted to return the favor in some way.
The little girl had just opened her mouth to thank him and introduce herself when the door to the room burst open. Hongo jumped up in surprise, the little girl screamed again in fright, and tears began to flow.
"Great way to come in, Captain..." A tired, monotonous voice, as if already accustomed to all the nonsense and craziness of this world, sounded from behind the red-haired man who had opened the door. " I'm sorry..."
I'm sorry for the long absence, but I've really been having trouble writing. Even though I already had an idea of how I would continue the story, it was really difficult to find the way and the will to write.
hi! I really love your "not-so-secret" format and I find it real funny, I would like to ask you if you can write something like that for Benn Beckman or if you are more at ease for Shanks, either way I would love it❤️ thank you and you are amazing🫶
Not-So-Secret (Beckman x Reader)
One Piece | Beckman | 3.3k | Masterlist
A newspaper landed on the table, spun around twice and stopped perfectly in front of you. You lifted your glass before it could be knocked off and shuffled forward to see what had been brought over. Shanks paused his conversation with Lucky Roux next to you and tilted his head toward it.
“Notice anything?” Benn asked.
Shanks spun it around to face him, grin proud. “That’s a good photo. Maybe I can ask them to replace my bounty one with it.”
“Have they finally raised mine to something decent?” you asked.
Benn put his hand over it and tapped the headline next to it. “No.”
You immediately burst into laughter, head tipped back in mirth, joined a second later by Shanks. He tossed his arm over your shoulders and grinned.
“What a title,” he said. “The secret wife of an emperor?”
You smiled at Benn through your eyelashes. “Why didn’t you tell me about your promotion, love? This must be a world first. Two emperors on one crew.”
He gave you an unimpressed look. “It would seem your wedding ring has been given to somebody else.”
Shanks looked down at your hand and beamed. “You should have told me she was available.”
“She isn’t.”
“Too late. Says here we’re married,” he said, letting go of your shoulders and returning your personal space. “Though I can’t remember our wedding. Maybe we should have another party in celebration. Do you want a dress?”
“Absolutely,” you said. “But you know this is just to sell papers, right?”
“And because you enable him,” Benn told you.
“I would never. Captain?”
“Yes?”
“If we’re having a wedding party, we’ll need at least an island’s worth of alcohol. Otherwise, this is going to be a very boring celebration.”
Shanks beamed at the excuse to have a party. “Anything for my lovely wife.”
“Don’t,” Benn corrected.
Shanks grinned in response. “Don’t be so bitter, Beck. You had your turn.”
“The wife of an emperor surely gets a higher bounty, right?” you asked Lucky who just chuckled.
“Not sure that’s how bounties work.”
“It should be.”
It stopped being a wedding party almost as soon as the crew reached the next island.
Nobody on the crew really cared to organise anything vaguely resembling a ceremony when you reached the next island. But there was music loud enough to carry along the beach, tables steadily disappearing beneath bottles, and enough food to keep everyone happy. That was more than a sufficient reason for the Red Hair Pirates to celebrate.
Your main complaint was the sand swallowing your shoes with every step. It made walking far more difficult than it had any right to be.
Shanks was having no such difficulties as he moved around the party. He ended up next to the fire, one arm thrown around Yasopp and laughing loud enough to drown out the waves. A few of the local women had joined the celebration, seemingly very pleased with the attention they were getting from your supposed husband.
It was honestly funny how quickly the evening had changed from a wedding party into a just-for-fun one the moment a pretty face had asked.
You lifted your drink to the rest of the crew.
The bar had been assembled from two uneven tables near the edge of the beach. You helped yourself to another drink before reaching for a familiar bottle and pouring a second. The sharp smell rising from the glass made you wrinkle your nose.
But it wasn’t for you yet. It was just an excuse to make your way over to Benn where he was standing against one of the palms that lined the beach.
The bonfire’s light reached him only faintly, catching against the smoke curling around his face before the darkness swallowed it. His cigarette glowed whenever he took a drag and you used the faint light to navigate your way across the uneven sand to him.
Why had you chosen such impractical shoes for this?
He inclined his head as you approached, gaze dropping briefly to your unsteady progress through the sand.
“Had too much to drink?”
You rolled your eyes. “The sand is deep.”
“Sure.”
“I haven’t even stumbled,” you defended yourself.
His mouth twitched slightly.
The area he was standing on was thankfully a little less cruel and you stopped beside him, leaning your shoulder against his arm. He shifted just enough to make the angle more comfortable for you without looking down. The celebration was only growing louder and you were certain it wouldn’t stop until the morning arrived.
It would be a nice day on deck actually. Almost everybody would be hungover.
“I brought you a drink,” you said, holding out the glass to him.
Benn lifted his own identical one to show it was still half-full.
You took it from him and downed what remained, pressing the replacement into his hand. The strength of it caught the back of your throat and you coughed once, stubbornly forcing yourself not to pull a face at it.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Suppose I did need one then.”
“A wife’s intuition,” you said proudly.
His attention settled on you, quiet and warm despite the unimpressed look on his face. He appreciated your intentions, though he wouldn’t say it.
“Your supposed husband has abandoned you for three women before you’ve even finished your drink,” he noted. “Devastating.”
“I know,” you mourned. “Though luckily, I’ve found someone far better to keep me company. What do you think? It’s a fun party, no?”
He looked toward the celebration. The crew had claimed most of the space beside the fire, laughing and shouting encouragement at whoever was singing badly alongside the musicians. Several of the locals had joined the party now, bringing food and drinks that surely wouldn’t go to waste amongst the crowds.
“It’s a loud party,” Benn said. “Though it’s good to be having it out here rather than inside a tavern. Fewer windows for them to walk into.”
“Just the ocean,” you noted.
“They don’t have devil fruit. They shouldn’t drown.”
“They’ll be wasted soon.”
“A problem they should have solved in advance.”
Despite his complaints, you knew exactly who would be going around and chasing them from the waves in a few hours. He’d become remarkably adept at keeping them under control over the years.
“They’re happy,” you said.
“They usually are when they’re being given alcohol.”
You looked over the smaller groups, mainly formed by unknowns who seemed to enjoy the energy of the party but were understandably wary of getting too close to the infamous crew. A few of them stood at odd angles near the edge of the crowd, never quite facing the celebration directly. You might not have noticed if you hadn’t been looking for it.
And you were definitely looking for it.
“We’ve got some of Morgans’ rats, it seems,” you said, voice lower now to keep the discussion just quieter. “They really are everywhere. It’s annoying. With all these rumours bouncing around, they’ll probably print another photograph of me. And if they take one in this lighting, it’s not going to be pretty.”
Benn chuckled and hooked a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face toward him. The glass in his hand bumped faintly against your jaw as he looked you over, and your heart thumped pleasantly at the touch.
His thumb remained beneath your chin a moment longer than the inspection required.
“You do look tired from your battle against the sand. Perhaps you should avoid them then. You’re far too good at spotting them.”
“I’m not tired,” you corrected. “I’m just enjoying you looking at me.”
Although now that he was looking for them, you knew it wouldn’t take him long to notice the way they stood. Bodies angled away from the party, hands shifting beneath loose coats and bags, shutter clicks swallowed beneath the music and laughter. You made it a personal mission to always keep an eye out for photographers. Your bounty was seen by everybody in the world and you refused to have an ugly one.
But it also gave you an opportunity.
“Maybe we should correct what they think about me,” you suggested.
“It’ll be difficult to prove your sanity in a photograph. Particularly after marrying him.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Divorce.”
You chuckled at the idea. “That would probably chase away his company for the night. Wouldn’t want to have to deal with the moping from that, would you? Maybe something more obvious?”
You turned into Benn’s side and tilted your face toward him, making the request as obvious as you could without saying it.
He glanced down at you and took a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you and into the sky. “You should be careful with requests like that. You could damage your marriage when it’s just started.”
You wrinkled your nose, beginning to lose patience with the joke now that it was keeping you from the kiss you wanted.
“My real marriage would only be made better by one,” you mentioned.
He extinguished the cigarette against the tree and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
“There.”
You blinked. Then crossed your arms, mildly offended.
He simply smiled in response. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? I wouldn’t want to upset the captain of the ship now.”
You let your genuine offence melt into an exaggerated pout he could see straight through. “But you’re upsetting me. I just want a kiss from my husband.”
“I thought your husband was drinking with other women.”
He smiled. Sometimes you hated how easily he saw through your dramatics. You huffed and spun on your heel, already moving a step away.
“Fine. I guess I’ll go ask him then.”
Benn caught your arm before you’d even taken your second step and pulled you easily back to him, kissing you properly before you could say a word. You hummed, smiling against his mouth, pleased. You lifted your free hand to his jaw, making sure the glint of your ring said everything as you sank into the familiar warmth of his mouth.
It should have been the final clarification they needed.
Instead, that photo did the exact opposite.
Almost a week later, Yasopp was laughing far too hard for it to signal anything good. You knew it was bad when you stepped out onto deck, met his eyes, and he cackled louder. And because you had no sense of self-preservation, you immediately made your way to him, Hongo, and Limejuice to see what was so funny.
Limejuice raised his eyebrows at you as you approached, chuckling. “Well, if it isn’t the most scandalous member of our crew.”
“What have I done now?”
He handed you the newspaper, flipped to the third page. You looked over the image and the title and a laugh escaped you purely because no other sound made sense.
“They really think so little of me to believe I wouldn’t take the ring off first?” you asked and clicked your tongue. “Honestly. It’s almost like they think I’m a pirate or something.”
“Married to the captain but sleeping with the first mate? Talk about a rumour,” Yasopp said.
You shook your head in disbelief. “It’s absolutely disgraceful, I know. How can any of you lot tolerate such harlotry on the ship? Especially when the photo with my supposed husband is of me sitting next to him.”
“Admitting they’re wrong wouldn’t sell nearly as many papers,” Hongo commented. “So, the natural conclusion is an affair. Don’t know what else it could be.”
The laugh bubbled from your chest before you could help it. It was absolutely hilarious. The photo they’d captured was honestly lovely; taken from the waist up with your wedding ring clear against his jaw.
“They also need his name in the title somewhere,” Limejuice added. “I’m just shocked this has been going on right on the ship and nobody’s noticed.”
You fought to try to contain the chuckles and held up the newspaper in answer to footsteps approaching behind you. The familiar sound of Benn’s steps against the deck stopped as he looked it over and sighed.
“That’s really their answer?”
“I’m so sorry you had to find out this way,” you told him sincerely over your shoulder. “But it seems that you’re the other man in our relationship.”
He rolled his eyes. “You should ignore it. The more you try and reason with them, the more content you’re giving over.”
Yasopp slapped him on the shoulder between his chuckles. “How does it feel to be having an affair with the woman you married?”
“Exhausting.”
“The next edition will probably be something about who the father is,” Hongo suggested.
Your mouth dropped in offense and you turned to him. “Excuse me? What’s that even supposed to mean?”
He held up his hands innocently, smirk too cocky. “Come on, it’s the natural progression from the wife scandal.”
“I do not look pregnant,” you warned.
“You’re pregnant?” Shanks asked. “You’re hiding it well.”
“Shut it!” you snapped at him. “I am not. But I do have to tell you something quite important. I’m having an affair with your first mate. I know this must be hard for you to hear through a newspaper but please understand that I love him dearly.”
Benn gave you a very unimpressed look that you responded to with a sparkling smile.
Shanks chuckled and took the newspaper from you. “They’re pretty creative with these things, aren’t they? I suppose I can forgive it this time. But only with Beck, ‘kay? I can’t tolerate this behaviour with anybody else.”
You made a sign of swooning. “Aw, you’re the second-best husband ever.”
“Only second for accepting your affair?”
“Benn can get me a drink without finishing it on the way over.”
“News must be dry for this to be what they’re using,” Benn said, entirely ignoring your compliment. “Though I suppose the seas have been quiet. At least it’s not on the front page.”
“The paternity test will be,” Hongo said. “Leave the test to me. I can make the results suitably inconclusive.”
Yasopp wiped at his eyes. “Maybe it comes out with one arm.”
Both you and Shanks immediately collapsed into laughter. Your sides ached as you leaned against him to support yourself. Benn chuckled softly under his breath, whether at the idea or because you were laughing, you weren’t sure.
He always said he was very fond of your laugh.
“We should get you a sack of flour to carry around,” Limejuice said. “We can stitch red hairs into the top.”
“And give it a cigarette,” Yasopp added.
“She needs to be pregnant before she has the kid,” Hongo insisted. “You’re skipping over at least two editions worth of content. So, we should give her a watermelon to carry for a few months.”
“I can do that,” you offered. “But I want it to be a weirdly shaped watermelon. Like really long.”
“No,” Benn said. “I’m not dealing with how sticky the deck’s going to be when it inevitably falls and smashes over everything.”
“I promise not to drop it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
By the time dinner arrived, most of the Red Force had lost interest in your supposed paternity scandal. Which was good because there was only so much laughter you could take before you developed a permanent stitch in your side. Still, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long until it resurfaced at the next market you found with watermelons.
You made your way to the kitchen while a game of cards started on the deck and trimmed the edges of the newspaper away so you had just the photo.
You lifted it to the light and hummed. It would need a backing board. The paper they used to print on was getting awfully thin of late. You’d be happier if you could get your hands on the actual image though… maybe you should write in and ask for it.
“Are you really keeping it?”
You looked over your shoulder to find Benn standing in the doorway. You smiled and lowered your arms.
“I am. It’s a nice photo. I’ll buy a frame the next time we stop somewhere with a shopping street instead of a distillery.”
“You have very high hopes for the future.”
You laughed softly. “I could get rid of it instead if you want me to. I’m not overly attached. Or maybe I should write a formal letter of complaint?”
He stepped closer and leaned over your shoulder to look at the photo. “Somehow, I don’t think they’d be particularly worried. You can see my ring where I’m holding your wrist.”
You looked closer at the photo and immediately laughed. As you held his face, he held your arm, his hand turned to rest against your pulse point with a matching ring on his finger.
“I think they’ll use that next,” you said. “They’ll skip over the kid and think you’re cheating on a wife back home.”
“They wouldn’t care about that. Doesn’t involve Shanks at all.”
You hummed. “Fair. Though realistically, we’ve already had two. They’ll probably move on to something else in the next week. Or maybe a group of idiots will blow up an island and get far more media attention.”
Benn gave you a look. “Hopefully this is not how I learn about your plans.”
“Why would I blow up an island?”
“When you’re with that lot, I place nothing outside the realm of possibility.”
You didn’t appreciate how often you had to admit he was right. “Does it bother you?” you asked. “Not the blowing up an island thing but all of the rest of it.”
You could understand how it would. If things were the other way around, you weren’t sure you’d be pleased about the situation at all. Actually, you knew you wouldn’t be. You’d be even more bitter about the part where you didn’t have any options to correct the problem.
“Not the first time people have thought you’re with him,” Benn said with a shrug. “Probably not the last. I care very little about who a newspaper thinks you’re married to. You’re still wearing my ring.”
“It’s honestly impressive he managed to start a scandal story without even doing anything,” you admitted. “That’s a new one.”
“No, it’s not.”
You leaned against the counter and smiled. “Maybe we should start confining him to the ship whenever we make land. I think it’ll be safer for everybody.”
Benn raised a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “As though you wouldn’t be far too bored?”
“Hey, I can entertain myself by bothering you more.”
He hummed but you caught the affectionate smile that appeared for a second. “Maybe I should confine both of you to the ship. It will be safer for everybody.”
“You’re really not looking to dispel the rumours then,” you teased.
“I don’t need to. Anybody who’s met Shanks knows he couldn’t keep a wife for longer than a night.”
“And anybody who’s met me knows exactly who I have eyes for.”
He scoffed. “Even if they haven’t met you. In the first photograph they took, you were standing next to him but you were looking at me.”
“Was I?”
“Very obviously.”
You hummed and looked down at the photo you had. “Then I should get a copy of that one too. I can start a little album to document our lives as told through the newspaper.”
“That sounds suspiciously like you’re planning on causing more stories.”
“Maybe… Two photos isn’t much of an album. But don’t worry, I’ll only ask the others for their help occasionally. And I won’t bring the watermelon onboard.”
Benn gave you a long, unreadable look.
Then, before you could ask what that meant, he bent down and swept you into his arms. You laughed, catching hold of his shoulders as he carried you toward the door.
“So, is that a yes to the album?”
He said nothing which you chose to take as enthusiastic approval.
