Am I still in time? Can I ask you Hongo x fem reader, Who is too shy to ask for a kiss?
Have a nice day 😘
𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜
Hongo x fem reader
The sun was setting over the deck of the Red Force, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. You found yourself alone with Hongo, the quiet doctor of the Red Hair Pirates, both of you leaning against the railing watching the waves.
Your heart beat faster whenever he was near, and today was no exception. You'd been crushing on him for months, admiring his gentle nature and the way he cared for his crewmates. But asking for a kiss? That seemed completely impossible for someone as shy as you.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Hongo's soft voice broke the silence, gesturing toward the horizon.
"Mhm," you managed, barely audible.
He turned to look at you, his eyes warm. "You've been quiet today. Everything alright?"
You nodded, suddenly feeling your cheeks flush under his attention. "Just... thinking."
"About what?" he asked, moving slightly closer.
About how much I want to kiss you, you thought, but could never say.
Instead, you shrugged, focusing on your hands gripping the railing.
Hongo chuckled softly. "You know, you're cute when you're flustered."
Your eyes widened at that, and you risked a glance at him. He was watching you with an amused but gentle expression.
"I..." you started, but the words wouldn't come out.
He leaned in just a bit closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me guess... you want something, but you're too shy to ask for it?"
Your face grew even hotter at his accurate assessment. How did he know? Could he read your mind that easily?
"I... I don't know what you mean," you stammered, avoiding his gaze.
"Is that so?" Hongo's eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Because I think you want me to kiss you, but you're too shy to say it out loud."
Your heart hammered against your ribs as he spoke the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. How could he be so direct? And why did it make you both mortified and incredibly thrilled?
"Or maybe I'm wrong?" he teased, pulling back slightly to watch your reaction. "Maybe you don't want me to kiss you at all."
The panic that flashed through you at his words was all the encouragement he needed. His knowing smile made you want to disappear into the deckboards.
Finally, gathering every ounce of courage you possessed, you squeezed your eyes shut and whispered so softly you could barely hear yourself, "...kiss me."
"What was that?" Hongo leaned closer, cupping his hand around his ear. "I couldn't quite hear you."
You took a shaky breath, your face burning with embarrassment. "Please... kiss me," you repeated, still barely above a whisper.
His gentle laughter made your eyes fly open. "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmured, finally closing the distance between you.
His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that made your whole body tingle. When you parted, you were both breathless, and your shyness had momentarily been replaced by pure bliss.
"See?" he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "Sometimes the things we're most afraid to ask for are exactly what someone else wants to give."
You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly—
"FINALLY!"
"ABOUT DAMN TIME!"
"WE KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!"
The sudden eruption of cheers from behind the nearby storage barrels made you both jump apart as if shocked. There, revealed in the fading light, was the entire crew—Shanks, Benn, Yasopp, Lucky Roux, and all the others—peeking out from their hiding spots with wide grins.
"Spying on us?" Hongo asked with an exasperated but fond expression.
"Hey, we've been waiting months for this to happen!" Yasopp called out. "Had to make sure we didn't miss it!"
Your face, which had just begun to cool down, instantly flushed crimson again as you buried your face in your hands. Hongo just sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Give them some privacy, you lot!" Shanks called out with a laugh. "But drinks are on Hongo tonight for making us wait so long!"
As the crew whooped and headed toward the galley, Hongo turned back to you with a gentle smile. "Well... would you prefer some privacy, or shall we join them for the celebration?"
Summary: After your last embarrassing visit to the infirmary, you haven’t gone back. Maybe that’s for the best... no need to stir up even more of the feelings you’re trying to deny. But a sneaky cold and an unexpected note will force you to return. And this time, the doctor’s not letting you off so easily. As he says, you two need to settle this like adults.
Word count: 3800 (not bad, Hongo, stop complaining)
Notes: A year later, I'm back to wrap up my Hongo story. I wrote this by popular demand XD as a sequel to the first part, but if you're feeling lazy you can totally read it as a standalone too. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
Tags: Hongo x f!reader; Beckman platonic; Beckman is a total sweetheart (what can I say…); Hongo is so smitten with you; reader is… well, let's just say she’s scared of relationships and commitment; love in denial; denial of feelings; love confessions; use of Doll; one-sided enemies to lovers; first kiss; sweet kissing; Hongo is the best boyfriend… just let the man have his damn chance already ❤️
This is a gift for Marshy @warriorheart13-blog, for all the love she puts into her fics and because she is one of the sweetest people I've known here <3 Happy early birthday, hon!!
The bar is as smelly as it is loud. Just what you’d expect from a place where punches fly without warning. And like most of the dives you tend to frequent, it lacks charm. Much like the man doing his best to catch your eye, clearly in the hopes of sharing more than a drink tonight. Not that it’s entirely his fault. You’ve been flashing him your best smile for a while now, batting your lashes and tossing him compliments between playful little taps on the arm.
Even though his jokes are fall flat, and his attempts to spike your drinks with more booze than needed painfully obvious, on a night when the emptiness bites a little deeper, his company feels like more than enough.
Scattered around the bar are the rest of your crewmates. Some drunker than others, and a few luckier in their conquests; but all of them having a good time in the end. The only one missing is that irritating, smooth-talker, with the annoyingly perfect smile and an obvious eagerness to sit you back on his examination table: the crew’s physician.
Someone had to stay behind to watch the ship, and the doctor drew the shortest straw.
Tough luck for him.
You’ve hardly thought about him all night. Maybe seven or eight times at most. All your focus is on keeping your flirt interested enough while politely dodging another kiss. Twice now he’s tried, and it’s not like the idea bothers you… but there’s something about the way he calls you Doll that doesn’t seem to fit. As if that word, spoken by his foreign lips, loses all its meaning and dissolves into the air before it ever reaches you.
In any case, the man barely notices your dodges, nor does he seem to catch the way your voice deepens as the night wears on, breaking off at the end of each sentence with louder and louder sniffles. You’ve coughed a couple of times too, not always gracefully, poise slipping as you force down your sore throat another swallow of your suspiciously strong drink.
The coughing fit that follows is so fierce that the man finally raises his eyebrows at you. You try to reassure your startled suitor with a gesture, but your runny nose won’t give you a break, so cursing your luck, you have no choice but to excuse yourself toward the ladies’ room.
It’s only after a few steps that you notice the annoying pressure building between your eyebrows.
It’ll probably turn into a nasty headache.
To be honest, you feel miserable. Your throat is raw, and after that coughing fit, your makeup is probably a disaster.
Squinting against the sudden pain the harsh bathroom light sends shooting through your temples, you open that organized chaos you call a purse in search of a tissue, and freeze when you find two objects you don’t recognize: a small cardboard box and what seems to be a meticulously folded note.
Your brows knit in curiosity as you turn the rectangular container over from one side to the other, then unfold the little piece of paper, revealing beautiful, careful handwriting.
“ To the most beautiful doll in the bar,
You probably haven’t noticed yet, but you’ve caught a cold. If my calculations are right, your throat’s already starting to hurt, and you’re probably coughing too. Take two pills from the blister; they’ll help you get through the night a little more comfortably. And if you can, have Becks grab you something warm to drink at the bar.
P.S. I split the pills in half so they’re easier to swallow.
P.P.S. You’ve got another pack of tissues in your back pocket.
H. <3<3<3 ”
You don’t realize how hard you’re clenching your teeth until you hit those last three ridiculous little hearts. How dare he? How dare he stick his hand in your bag and slip in his stupid advice?
It’s just a note, and yet your heart is bouncing wildly inside your ribs.
This was your night. You needed it to break free from the oppressive routine of life on the ship. And now it turns out you’re sick? How dare he ruin your evening like this?
Feeling the adrenaline of an irrational and unexpected fury roar through your veins, you read the note a second time. You’ve got another pack of tissues in your back pocket, the second postscript reads. Practically out of spite, you yank open the little zippered pocket at the back of your bag. Sure enough, a neat little stack of clean tissues waits at the bottom, folded and carefully stashed.
With a crooked scowl twisting your face, you shove the pills back into your bag with enough force to nearly punch a hole through it, then storm out of the bathroom in search of your personal emotional advisor.
The bright, glaring bathroom light disappears behind the swinging door, and a couple of blinks later, your eyes focus on the unmistakable silhouette of Benn Beckman, sitting on a wooden bench with one arm draped over the backrest.
“Oh, Becks…” you let your weight drop with all the drama into his lap.
The woman who’s been exchanging flirty glances with him all night scowls and looks away, but that’s no problem for the man built like a wardrobe. It won’t take him more than five minutes to win her attention back once you’re gone.
“What’s wrong, darlin’? Someone hurt you?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he runs one of his large hands down your back. You hand him the crumpled note in response, furrowing your brows so tightly they almost meet. A moment later, his chest shakes with a chuckle. “Darlin’…”
He shifts his gray eyes from the note to yours, but you say nothing. You stare off into the distance as a woman approaches your potential fling, who taps impatiently on the bar with his fingers.
“Fuck,” you grit as you pull a tissue from your bag to blow your nose, “that damn quack has ruined my evening…”
Your burly first mate presses his lips together to keep them from curling into a smile, then furrows his brow, just as you expect.
“I see.”
Your hands tremble with rage, but your eyes betray a very different feeling, filled with a sadness that waters your lower lashes.
That sight is Beckman’s undoing.
His rough hand cups your cheek, and you look up at him with those reddened eyes, catching the bar’s dim lights.
“I hate him…” you sob in a faint voice, “hate him with every bit of me.”
“My sweet girl…” Becks sighs hoarsely as he thumbs away one of your tears, then places the note back into the palm of your hand. “Why don’t you head back to the ship and show him all that pretty hate of yours?”
Your eyes blink, heavy with the weight of tears as they study the hearts on the crumpled note, then flick to his for a moment before you nod.
-*-
Your heart pounds when you spot the closed infirmary door at the end of the corridor, and not just because you’ve just sprinted across the whole damn port like a bat out of hell.
The last time you were in there, you got dragged in, knocked over half the vials like a tantrum-throwing brat, and wound up with your butt sticking in the air. There’s no dignified way to walk back in after that, so you don’t bother trying. After a quick glance at the light under the door confirming the doctor’s in, you lift your boot and kick it hard enough to rattle one of the hinges loose.
Hongo is seated at his desk, elbows resting on the table as he studies The Ultimate Manual of Ulcerous Injury Treatment at Sea, Vol. 2.
“Seriously…” he mutters in a flat tone, “what is it with you all and that door? Beckman’s gonna-”
“HONGO!!!”
Your battle cry prompts the doctor to lower the thick medical tome, his face brightening as his chestnut eyes meet yours behind a pair of round reading glasses.
“Doll?”
You don’t recall ever seeing him wear them before.
They suit him.
Somewhere between surprised and eager, he jumps up from his chair and almost stumbles toward you, a small, thin object in hand as he reaches for your arm.
“How are you feeling? Has the cough started yet? Let me take your temp-”
On instinct, you fling your hands up in such a sudden movement that they knock the thermometer out of his hands. Both of you freeze as it flies through the air and shatters against the wooden panel. A thin trail of mercury slides down the wall, and you stare at it, thinking this wasn’t your best entrance. Your throat tightens as you shift your gaze to the now very serious physician.
“Hongo, I’m sorry… I-”
"No." He raises a hand.
You shut up in an instant. He’s not usually this curt. You must’ve really messed up this time.
You watch him walk over to the chalkboard behind his desk, the fine blond hairs on his shaved neck exposed as he leans in to add one last item to what looks like a shopping list.
Burn ointments, 1st, 2nd, 3rd degree
Anti-diarrheal pills, 3,000 doses
XXL-sized syringes
All-purpose syrup (nausea and more)
Bandages, 500-meter rolls
Muscle relaxants, 5L bottle
Thermometer (x2)
A charming smile is again on his face when turns back to you, shaking the chalk from his hands.
“All done. Sorry, doll, if I don’t write things down, I forget,” he says as he sits and folds his fingers on the table. “Now tell me, did you take your pills? Need more?”
His eyes crinkle up real cute when he smiles, and you shake your head to remind yourself why you’re really here.
Anger.
You’re pissed.
Overly dramatic, you stride toward his desk and slam both palms on the board.
“How dare you put things in my bag?!” you accuse him, eyes practically shooting sparks.
He looks up at you. From that angle, the stitched scar on his forehead seems to warp beneath the magnifying glass of his glasses. With a sigh, he takes them off, holding one temple in a way that makes you want to grab him.
“Oh, that… yeah, did it bother you?”
“You crossed a line,” your palms clench into fists on the table. “You went through my personal things.”
Hongo tries to keep a casual air, but you notice the way he shifts in his chair. “It’s the only way I’ve found to do my job as your doctor. Every time I get close, you run from me.”
“Oh sure, your job. Had no idea sabotaging people’s nights was part of the job description.”
“Sabotaging-?” He scrapes the chair back as he stands, hands braced on the table to mirror your stance. It forms a nice symmetry in the burgundy lines on the sleeves of his jacket. “Look, you’ve made it pretty damn clear you want nothing to do with me, but like it or not, I’m still your doctor. Your health is my responsibility. I even should’ve stopped you from going out, it was obvious you were getting sick.”
“I’m not sick,” you spit through clenched teeth.
“Yes, you are,” he says, eyes narrowed.
“No, I’m not.”
His pupils contract, then dilate in a clear display of self-control. It’s obvious he’s holding himself back from grabbing you by the collar. Whether to yell at you or kiss you, you can’t tell. You stare back with an expression as neutral as possible. Then, at that exact inconvenient moment, your nose starts to run.
Fuck.
Of course it had to be now.
You sniff with the greatest discretion, trying to delay the moment you’ll have to reach for a tissue and confirm the obvious. He seems to notice something, because one eyebrow arches. Your jaw tightens as if that could hold back the thin strand of snot threatening to fall, and maybe you would’ve managed, but a maddening little itch joins the running nose.
And then, you lose.
The sneeze hits so hard it sends a sharp jab through your temple.
“Argh…” you rub your temple with a groan.
When you open your eyes, the doctor is flashing you his stupid, amused smile again.
"See?" he gestures at you.
Your blood boils with what you tell yourself is anger. This was supposed to be your night, and you don’t know why things always seem to go wrong for you while everything goes right for him.
“This is easy for you, huh?” you say with bitterness, pulling your remaining hand off the table to cross your arms over your chest. “You, who got to stay here, having your perfect night.”
At that, his smile fades. Faster than when you knocked the thermometer out of his hand.
“Oh, sure. Reading The Manual of Ulcerous Injury Treatment while the girl I’m crazy about flirts with half the damn bar is exactly the night I was hoping for.”
You blink. It’s the second time he’s confessed his love for you, and the blow to your chest hits as hard as the first. Or maybe harder, like that time Yassop threw the oar at you without warning.
You open your mouth, then close it again. If you don’t, your heart might just leap out. The only thing your body allows you to do is try to hide the shaking of your hands. A flicker of hope lights in his eyes as he studies your reaction. You haven’t bolted yet. Surely that has to count for something. In fact, this might be the longest you’ve ever stayed in his infirmary.
For a moment, you just want to give in. Take those veiny hands and find out if they’re as soft as they look… but there’s no way you’re losing again.
“I’m leaving,” you say, turning on your heels and quickening your pace.
“Oh no, not this time,” Hongo rushes after you, knocking the table aside as he moves past. You barely open the door a palm’s width when he slams it shut with his fist. “We’re going to solve this like adults, once and for all.”
His roughness sends a hot rush of blood to your cheeks.
"Hongo, open the door. I’m a free woman," you tug at the handle like your oxygen depends on it. Just inches from your face, the fist blocking the door slowly loosens.
“Maybe you are… but I’m not,” he breathes out, hand finally letting go.
When he turns away, you squeeze your eyes shut. Behind you, some glass jars clink before you hear his voice again, saddened this time.
“The door’s open. You broke the hinge earlier…”
You grip the doorknob with force, but the knot coiling in your stomach doesn't let you turn it. “My evening is ruined,” you say through clenched teeth.
“Mine was ruined the moment you stepped off the ship.”
Damn.
Your stomach twists in on itself as the weight of your own stupidity crashes down on you. Suddenly, the distance between you feels too much. Some invisible force is pulling you backward, and you let out a huff, hoping to clear your thoughts. It doesn’t work, though you do reach one conclusion.
He’s right.
You need to find a solution.
So you decide to turn around.
Hongo sets down the jars he’s been organizing and watches, stunned, as you walk over to his desk and perch on the edge.
“What are we going to do?” you ask, not quite meeting his eyes.
If Hongo were any other man with less self-control, his face would’ve split into the biggest grin of his life. But the Red Force’s doctor knows how to keep it together, so he just wipes his hands on his pants and he walks toward with a restrained smile.
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say we should kiss.”
“…What?” your eyes go wide.
“Just once. Let me kiss you, and if you don’t like it…” he pauses as he reaches you, choosing his next words with care, “if you don’t feel anything, and you don’t want a second, then I’ll let you go and never try again.”
A wave of warmth crawls up your back and blooms red at your neck. Should you say yes? What if you do like it? Your head spins like a spiral at the proposition and you glance down at your feet, searching for something to anchor you back to earth.
“Doll?”
Was that desperation in his voice? Is the composed, ever-patient doctor actually losing it? You look up and find him frowning, two fingers pressed to the artery in his neck.
“Please, say something… I swear my heart rate’s spiking and my blood pr-”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows rises.
“Yes?”
You nod, eyes dropping back to your feet.
“Yes.”
He runs a hand over his shaved neck, and his eyes dart between yours in disbelief. You’ve only seen him this confused once before -that night he drank too much and was unbearable the next day. Then, he clears his throat, and after a shaky “Okay,” wraps his hands around your waist to settle you properly on his desk. The way you gasp seems to please him, because when you finally look up, he’s smiling at you again.
His hands find your knees and gently part them. Not in a disrespectful way, just to make space to step closer. You let him, unsure where to look as his bare chest is now only inches from you. Then with something close to reverence, the doctor takes your hands in his and brushes his thumbs along your wrists in the softest way.
“Don’t even think about checking my pulse right now,” you mutter.
“I’m not-” he starts, but cuts himself off with a click of his tongue, one brow lifted wrinkling the scar above it. “You’re impossible… combative till the end, huh? No wonder Shanks recruited you.”
His accurate description earns him a light smack on the burgundy edge of his jacket’s lapel. Before you can pull your hand away, he covers it with his own. Then, he slowly guides it inside, until there’s no barrier between you and his skin. Beneath your palm, his heart races just as wildly as yours.
“Besides,” he whispers, hovering a practiced finger above your neck, “no need to touch to check. I can see the vein throbbing right here.”
When he leans back to admire how hard you’ve blushed, you turn your face away. He cups the back of your neck with a softness that would’ve brought you to your knees if you weren’t already sitting, and gently guides you back to him.
“Look at me, princess.”
His face is just a breath away from yours, and you close your eyes, overwhelmed by the soft scent of antiseptic clinging to the man currently pinning you against a desk.
“I’m far from being a princess,” you manage to say, lips pulsing with want for his, painfully close, and still not touching.
“I’ll treat you like one,” he says before his mouth finally finds yours.
He is so tender, and kisses you with such warmth and restrained love, that you have to grip the edge of the table. Partly so you don’t fall backward, and partly because the butterflies in your stomach might lift you off the ground. His lips slide between yours, soft and enveloping, holding your lower lip before tracing the upper one again. Emboldened by the feeling of being so deeply desired, you tilt your chin in search of a deeper kiss, and he indulges in your desires and his own, even daring to take a brief taste of your tongue. When you think he’s going to pull away, he presses his lips to yours once more, tightening your hand against his chest.
Are those two kisses? You wonder, caught in a haze of confusion and bliss. Your mind feels drunk, barely able to keep count as you try to catch your breath. Finally, more from the lack of air than from will, Hongo parts his lips from yours.
His eyes search yours, hungry for answers. Seeing him this flustered is a sight to behold. You want to take your time, but he’s impatient, and slides a hand along your thigh, from your knee up to your hip.
“Does this mean you liked it?” he says in a hoarse voice.
You suddenly realize you’ve been holding him tightly against your hips, trapping him there without meaning to.
“Oh, sorry,” you open your legs at once.
“No…” he presses them back against him, “leave them like that. I like them like that.”
You sigh. “Hongo...”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to break my heart?”
Your shiny doe eyes make his heart constrict. Whatever happened to you in the past to make you this scared of a relationship, he’ll figure it out. But for now, he just smiles.
“And face the barrel of Beckman’s shotgun? No, thanks.”
You let out a soft laugh but your gaze drops again. Uncertain and fragile. He chuckles, and with a finger under your chin, tilts your face back up.
“Doll, why would I do that? Why would I break my own?”
Your eyes dart between his for a second, and narrow with suspicion. “Have you rehearsed that line?”
That’s how he wants you. Sassy and challenging.
“Yes,” he grins with pride.
He barely finishes his answer when you grab him by the jacket and pull him close to crash your lips against his again. He smiles into the fiery kiss, hands cupping your cheeks as he melts into your arms, blissful you’ve finally surrendered to his love.
“Mmh!” Your eyes snap open as realization hits, and you push him to break the kiss.
“What?” He grunts. He is not a man easily rattled, but the thought of losing you again tightens his chest.
“Hongo! Remember, I’m sick! We shouldn’t be kissing!”
He sighs before smiling at you again, then plants a hand on either side of you on the table and leans his body toward yours.
“Doesn’t matter. There’s plenty of pills in the blister.”
And with that, he kisses you again.
<3
-*-
A few nights later, the crew gathers around a bonfire on some forgotten beach, tossing easy jokes back and forth while Roux roasts sea cow meat. When you show up, Beckman shifts to the side and offers you your usual spot beside him. But you don’t sit. Instead, you cup his cheeks and press a kiss to his forehead with a look that says it all.
He smiles. “Stolen my girl, huh?” he makes you laugh. Then he squeezes your hand and nods with the elegance that only someone like him can manage. "Go".
You walk around the fire and settle between the slender, bent legs of your doctor, who’s been waiting for you for a while now. Benn Beckman smiles as he watches you close your eyes and snuggle into Hongo’s arms, who leans in to whisper who-knows-what into your ear.
For your Valentine event can I ask you Chocolate-covered Strawberries with Hongo?
Thank you and have a nice day 💕
DESCRIPTION: Chocolate-Covered Strawberries- Unable to resist temptation anymore, they act
WARNINGS: none
CHARACTERS: Hongo
WORDS: 1,296
A/N: I'm starting to feel like I'm getting sick again and who better to write for than a Doctor. This is my first time writing for Hongo but here's hoping it was a good enough job and it's to your liking @akagami-no-laney! Thank you for requesting this one for the Valentines Event. Enjoy
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST
———————
“Careful Hongo, if you keep getting distracted and don’t focus you’re going to get injured. If that happens we’re going to be down a Doctor.” Hongo snapped his gaze to see Yasopp grinning at him wickedly. Nothing ever could escape the sniper’s gaze but still Hongo was quick to turn around and face the other man, becoming the picture of calm and ease.
“Naw, you’re exaggerating, I wasn’t distracted.” He lightly protested with a relaxed wave of his hand. When Yasopp folded his arms loosely and smirked, Hongo doubled down. “I wasn’t! I still knew what was going on around me.”
“Uh-huh and you just chose to ignore me for the fifteen minutes I was standing next to you because you were so focused on not getting distracted?” Hongo struggled to come up with an answer for that and before he could say anything in response he heard you call Shanks’ name from across the deck. Immediately he looked your way again.
At Shanks’ appearance you got up from your spot at the table and approached the Captain with that smile of yours that always left Hongo speechless and awestruck. He couldn’t pull his gaze from you, watching as you spoke with Shanks, showing him something in an old but well looked after book. As you talked you stepped closer to your Captain, your finger lightly indicating to something specific on the page for him to look at intently. Shanks in turn leant down, his dark eyes firmly on the pages in front of him. “God I wish that was me.”
“Well say no more!” Hongo flinched suddenly when Yasopp threw his arms around the Doctor and held him close with a grin. Once again he’d forgotten the sniper was standing beside him and now was shoving him away from his pretend attempts to cuddle into him and kiss at his face. “Stop playing hard to get Hongo, you know we’re meant to be!”
“I know my foot’s meant to be up your ass if you don’t quit it!” Hongo laughed managing to finally push his friend’s face away from his own only to look once more when he heard your laughter fill the air and froze to see you grinning at his and Yasopp’s antics.
“Aren't they a cute couple?” Shanks grinned at you, no longer standing as close as he had been now that your conversation was over. “I was always rooting for them to get together.”
“Really? My money’s always been on Yasopp and Benn, that’s where the real spark is.” You teased, laughing when Yasopp leapt off of Hongo and ran off, calling for the vice-captain in an overly dramatic and swooning voice. Glad to finally have the weight off of him, Hongo rubbed his neck and laughed softly, watching you approach while Shanks disappeared to talk to Building Snake about the island they were coming to.
“Now I’m curious.” Hongo began with a grin. “Who’s your money on for me to get with?”
“Help me out and I'll tell you.”
A couple hours later, Hongo found himself walking through the densely forested terrain with you. In the book you'd shown Shanks on the ship you were telling him of an incredibly rare plant that grew in an environment like the one you were approaching. Not only had it uses for medicines and poisons but it could also be used for cooking, perfumes, dyes and ink. A single flower sold for a small fortune, it was a treasure on its own. Shanks was interested and had memorised its image, promising to be on the lookout for it too. When you explained to Hongo what you wanted to find, he knew the plant immediately, wanting to take one for himself for the medicines if he could find it. When the ship docked everyone split off into their own groups and pairs with their own tasks assigned, you grabbed Hongo’s wrist and pulled him to be your partner this time.
The two of you spoke through your walking, joking and talking with complete ease that only came from an absolute bond of friendship and trust. Even with Hongo’s feelings for you, he didn’t feel nervous but he did keep reminding himself to focus instead of constantly getting lost in your charm and warmth. Over and over since he realised his feelings for you were turning into something romantic he always talked himself out of acting on it. He told himself it’d pass, that you weren’t interested in him that way, it’d be weird since he was the ship’s doctor.
“Hongo look!” You suddenly broke off in the middle of your conversation to point out the plant you’d been searching for. There were a few great specimens for you and Hongo to admire and eye up. While he began to carefully cut the strongest looking to take back to the ship you first took a small container from your pocket and gathered some of the dirt the plant had grown from before setting about harvesting some of the seeds. He watched you with a small smile. “You’re going to grow this?”
“It’ll take time but think how great it’ll be to have this plant always on board.” You explained brightly, looking away to smile up at Hongo. “I know you’ll discover and make a lot from the plants you’ve taken now but at least this way you’ll always have a steady supply.”
Hongo smiled back at you. You were a godsend to have on board, ever since you joined and used your skills as a botanist, his stock of medical plants and herbs never seemed to drop. Just as he was about to thank you, you reached out to brace your hand against the tree to get back to your feet only to suppress a curse when pain shot unexpectedly through your finger.
Immediately Hongo switched into his role as doctor and helped you sit on a tree stump and crouched down to get a good look at your hand. With so many plants growing, he had to be sure that what had hurt you wasn't poisonous. Seeing no symptoms arise he sighed in relief to see the painful looking splinter embedded in your finger. Definitely painful and unpleasant but at least it was the easiest wound to treat. You stayed still and watched Hongo treat you with silent, gentle care that you’d come to expect. “What’s the prognosis?” You asked with playful teasing in your tone, barely feeling anything as he removed the splinter. “Complete amputation? Blood transfusion?”
“Nothing so serious, thankfully. Your hands are-” Hongo began with a laugh, lifting his head to look at you only to stop mid-sentence to see you’d leant in closer than he’d realised and his nose had all but skimmed yours. This close he found himself getting lost harder and faster in your stare. Was your gaze always this hypnotic? “um…they’re perfect as usual.”
His gaze flickered to your lips when they curved in amusement and Hongo felt his rational arguments begin to grow duller in his mind. Would it hurt to make a move? You hadn't moved back yet, which gave him hope. He never considered himself a coward so he decided not to start now. “Would kissing it better help?”
“I’ll trust your judgement, Doctor.” You urged him softly, immediately smiling when he closed the unbearably small distance to finally press his lips against yours. Starting soft and slow at first, Hongo quickly pulled you headlong into a deeper and more commanding kiss. All you could think of in that moment was that even though you’d been betting with yourself, you’d been right to put your money on you and Hongo getting together and that it was definitely worth the wait.
Part of a trade with @softcenteregg I hope you like and it cheers you up a little <3
Benn Headcanons
Sfw
WC: 420
Benn’s daily routine starts with getting up, taking a moment to asses his life and his life choices before laying back against the headrest and having his first cigarette of the day while he processes his mental to-do list.
Breakfast consists of whatever the cook has prepared, a coffee, extra strong and black, and a breakfast cigarette.
After downing his body weight in coffee he’s mentally prepared for going to see his captain and ask what the brand-new day holds.
An hour meeting turns into two as Shanks starts to veer off topic, already starting his own day with a cup of coffee that Benn is sure is 85% booze or at least coffee-flavoured rum.
Lunchtime, more coffee, another cigarette, watching as everyone throws things around and yells conversation across the table as he sits next to Shanks and listens to his animated chatter.
The afternoon includes cleaning his guns, inside and out. A cigarette between his lips which Hongo snatches and tosses overboard, trying to convince him that he needs to cut down, Benn agrees.
Gets out another as soon as the doctor is gone and carries on cleaning his guns, talking to them and telling them how pretty they are.
The only intelligent conversation he’s had today he muses as he heard his name shouted.
Shanks is very capable until it comes to map reading which Benn has to help, they chart their passage and Shanks once again talks his ear off while attached to a bottle of wine, saying something about how Benn should knock off early from his duties and have a drink.
He does not.
Dinner time, small meal, another cigarette as he goes to his happy place as madness happens around the table and he briefly wonders if the red force even has an adult table as drinks get spilled and grown men sob over spilled booze.
Benn debates if it’s time to make Shanks take a nap as he feels his captain leaning on him, slurring and mumbling about something fantastical.
Nightwatch comes around, his favorite duty. He loves to stand in the high-up crows nest, him and a book, the stars above and a feeling of peace has settled over the ship watching the ocean and its gentle waves.
Benn reads page after page, a book a night at the rate he goes.
But after a day of being busy, of the loud crew, and the joyous ruckus he feels it’s sometimes too quiet.
He enjoys it when a random crewmate with a bought of insomnia decides to keep him company.
This is a gift for the lovely @akagami-no-laney 🎁!! I like Hongo thanks to you, and when I went to look for more content about him, I saw there was very little! So I decided to write this. I hope you like it! 💕
Summary: You've fallen in love with the doctor aboard the Red Force. In complete denial of your feelings, you think it’s best to avoid him for a while until the feeling passes, but a terrible pain in your back will force you to pay him a visit.
Word count: 2650
Notes: Love in denial. Flirting. Confessions of love. Use of 'Darling' and 'Doll'. Reader is a brat. Beckman is a saint. Hongo doesn't really know how to approach you, though in the end it seems like he manages to 🤪.
I have no knowledge in medicine, so everything here is pure fiction XD.
"Dammit, Beck!!!" you roared, kicking and flailing in the air. "Let me go!"
The tall man's grip tightened as he hoisted you over his shoulder, stoically advancing toward the ship's infirmary while your fists landed futile punches on his wardrobe-like back. "Scream all you want Darlin’, but we’re going to see Hongo whether you like it or not."
“NO!” you whined, writhing harder. “NOT HONGO! PLEASE! I-I’ll do anything you want! I’ll… I’ll get you the finest cigarettes at the next port!”
Beckman chuckled and shook his head, clearly amused by your desperate efforts to escape.
"BECKMAN, I’m serious! Let me go!! I-I swear that… that… OUCH!!" you twisted in agony as a sharp, searing pain shot through your lower back.
The man stopped immediately to give your body a moment to recover.
“Darlin’,” he said, one hand moving to your back and rubbing it gently, “you need help… and he’s the only one here who can give it to you, do you understand?”
You shut your eyes and nodded, then held onto his shirt, trying your best to handle the wave of pain.
You had been dealing with unbearable pain in your lower back for days. You didn’t know what caused it-whether it was some bad posture, the fall when you climbed down from the lookout, or the time you landed hard on your backside going down the ship’s ladder. Whatever it was, you must have injured something, and the pain, coming in waves like stabbing knives, was horrible.
Stubbornly, you had tried to let it pass on its own, avoiding asking anyone for help and steering clear of the infirmary. Yet your walks on the deck, face twisted in pain and hand pressed to your lower back, hadn’t escaped the ever-watchful Benn Beckman. Guessing your reluctance to see the ship’s doctor, he had kept his distance and observed you from afar without asking questions, but, as he watched your condition deteriorate further, he decided it was his duty to act.
“Hongo’s a decent doctor. Give him a chance,” he said, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you with his concerned gray eyes.
The problem wasn’t whether Hongo was a good doctor. You knew full well that he was competent and professional. The real issue was that he was also kind, tall, funny, and undeniably attractive...
Okay, yes. You were maybe… probably, a little bit in love with him. But it was an insignificant detail, considering you were fighting it. You were convinced that keeping the right distance would make the feeling fade and spare you from a potential broken heart. All you had to do was avoid him and act like a brat when he was around, and everything would be fine. You were as certain of this as you were that your back pain would eventually subside on its own.
BAAAANG!!!!
The infirmary door swung open with a deafening bang as Beckman kicked it harder than intended, hands fumbling as he tried to grab hold of your increasingly elusive body.
“Sorry, Hongo,” he said, noticing that part of the doorframe had splintered.
“Oi, Beck,” Hongo said without turning around, completely unfazed by the door’s loud crash as he meticulously washed his hands in the sink. “I see you’ve convinced y/n to come and see me.”
“That’s not-” you began to say.
“YES,” Beck shot you a reproachful look as he carefully set you down on the floor. “She’s a smart girl and understands what’s best for her.”
You opened your mouth to speak but his huge hand covered it. His cold eyes bore into yours, and he mouthed the word “behave,” leaving no room for an argument.
“Perfect,” Hongo turned around with that charming smile that always drew you in. “Welcome to my office, y/n.”
You held his gaze for a moment, observing how his eyes crinkled beneath the scar that ran down his temple. Then he took a small white towel and dried his hands with an unusual gentleness for a pirate. The gesture made you look away, focusing in a sturdy wooden table that held a collection of bandages, ointments, and surgical instruments.
“Do you need me to stay?” Beckman asked.
“Yes-”
“NO-” Hongo said at exactly the same time.
Beckman’s gaze shifted from one to the other. “I’ll be outside if you need me,” he finally said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and placing it between his lips.
Shit.
You shooted him a dirty look as he walked out. Once the door shut, Hongo's eyes were on you again. His smile stayed as he moved a bit closer.
“So…” he began, halting when he noticed you flinch and step back, “you’ve had a sharp pain in your lower back for days, haven’t you?”
Of course, that bastard Beckman had told him.
“Maybe,” you replied nonchalantly, avoiding his eyes.
“And you didn’t come to see me until now, why?”
“It’s not that bad.” You shrugged, the careless movement causing the pain in your back to flare up again, but in a wave you managed to endure with dignity.
“Uh-huh…” he examined you. “Let’s take a look, okay?” Slowly, he took another step forward. “Can you lay face down on the exam table for me?”
Your gaze darted to the exam table to the doctor.
“Absolutely not,” you looked at him with a defiant look, arms crossed over your chest.
Hongo’s eyes narrowed.
“Very well,” he kicked aside a stool that stood in his way as he moved towards you, “by force then.”
You swallowed hard, realizing your back was already pressed against the wall. His figure loomed closer, and you wasted no time scrambling to take cover behind the wooden table. As you clutched its edge and dragged it in front of you for cover, several bandages, bottles, and ointments scattered across the floor, some breaking open and spilling.
“Eeehm, do you need help!?” Beckman’s raspy, concerned voice came from the other side of the door.
“No!” Hongo bellowed as he charged after you, his eyes fixed on you and ignoring the mess on the floor. “No need for help! We’re behaving like two perfectly normal, civilized people!”
He moved along the right side of the table while you quickly circled to the other side, moving as fast as your body let you. As he reached out to grab you, you twisted to evade him, but a sharp, agonizing pain shot through your back again, spreading to your hips and down your thighs. Your legs gave way under the intensity of the feeling and just as you began to collapse, Hongo caught you in mid-air.
“I’ve got you…” he soothed, his usual tenderness reappearing as he held you tightly against his chest. “I’ve got you…”
You buried your head in the crook of his neck, sobbing and swallowing your pride, and you stayed wrapped in his arms for a few minutes until he felt your body gradually relax.
“I’m going to take you to the exam table now, alright?” he said, feeling your head nod against his neck. “You know…'"he helped you to sit down, "you must be made of steel, because in all the time you’ve been with us, you’ve never come to see me…” his fingers danced lightly along the edge of your shirt. “Can I examine you?”
“NO.” You swatted his hands away.
"Alright, alright..." He smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "Let’s focus on your back, then." He gestured with his finger for you to turn over on the examination table. "Can you lie face down, please?"
You glared at him and lifted your chin proudly. But when he saw the spark in your eyes, he raised an eyebrow.
“Face down, Doll. NOW.” He said, his commanding tone making it clear who was in charge.
With a dramatic roll of your eyes you gave in, knowing full well there was no choice but to comply with your doctor’s orders. You turned over on the table, and the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through your back, forcing you to moan and press your face into the sheets. You felt Hongo’s fingers ghost over your back, right at the spot where the pain was the worst.
"It’s right here, isn’t it?"
You nodded, surprised by how well he found the exact source. With your head buried in the soft, cushioned surface of the table, you heard the sound of a stool being dragged toward you. You turned your head to see him, but found his knees and the tops of his thighs instead, legs set apart.
"Okay…" you heard him muse,“... intramuscular analgesia”.
His left hand rested on your lower back, applying just enough pressure to keep you in place, while his right hand deftly prepared the cotton and antiseptic. As he turned his torso, his defined abs peeked out from above the waistband of his pants right in front of your eyes, and you snorted, turning your head away.
“Don’t worry Doll, I’ll be gentle…” he said, assuming your reaction was due to the fear of needles. “I need you to raise your skirt and lower your underwear, please.”
You didn’t respond. You stayed still on the exam table with your heart pounding in your chest. The pain in your lower back was unbearable, but the thought of Hongo right behind you, demanding to see your ass, was much worse.
"Come on, Doll…" he insisted, "be a good girl for me."
This time, a surprised chuckle escaped your lips. Never in a million years had you imagine hearing those words from him. A warm flush crept up from your neck, staining your cheeks. You hesitated, hands trembling as you slowly lifted your skirt over your hips. Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your panties, and as you exposed the soft, vulnerable skin of your ass, you felt Hongo shift slightly on the stool.
“... Hongo?”
"Yes," he cleared his throat with a hint of self-reproach. "Please, keep your ass up."
It was all too much. You couldn't stand the tension, the smell of antiseptic saturating the air, and the way his gaze weighed on your exposed skin. And that last order was the straw that broke the camel's back. You had to say something, anything that might unsettle him and tip the balance in your favor.
“Tsk, tsk, doctor, you can’t just pull down a girl’s panties and say 'ass up’ without, you know, a little courting first, can you?”
He let out a snort of laughter, and the sound made you smirk proud of yourself. Though not for long.
“Oh, Doll…” He lightly brushed your skin with the alcohol swab. “You know I’ve been wanting to court you for a while, right? But you make it hard when you keep avoiding me.”
Your heart raced inside your ribs. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to get up and run out of the infirmary, but unable to do any of that, you simply turned your face away and closed your eyes, trying to focus on anything but what he had just said. He sighed and got ready with the syringe.
"Alright, here we go," he said. The quick, clean poke made you gasp, and as he saw how tightly you were holding the sheet he took your hand and held it in his. "Good girl, you’re doing great… just hold on a bit longer…"
You focused on his words, letting the rhythm of his calm breathing soothe you, and as soon as he finished, he rose from the stool and moved away to give you space.
“Try to rest a bit until the medication takes effect."
With your face still turned to the wall, you pulled up your underwear and waited. Behind you, you heard the sound of pieces of glass being picked up and thrown away. You felt extremely guilty, thinking about Hongo cleaning up the mess you had left in your frantic attempt to escape. As soon as the pain in your back became bearable, you slowly sat on the exam table.
A sigh escaped you at the sight of Hongo kneeling on the floor, his back hunched and his shaved neck bowed, carefully picking up the spilled liquids and shards of glass. Without hesitation, you moved closer and crouched down beside him.
“Is your back feeling better?” he asked as soon as he noticed you presence.
“Yes… ,” you said softly, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor. "Thank you."
“Anytime.”
You felt his gaze on you as you focused on the task, sorting the broken jars and glass shards into a bag. You worked side by side in a silence that, oddly enough, didn’t feel uncomfortable, and you wished it could stay that way. But when your hands brushed against each other and you pulled yours back, he spoke.
“Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” you replied without looking at him.
“But you avoid me…”
You stayed quiet, a rag in your hand scrubbing the floor hard.
"Look at me," he put a hand on the top of your head and guided you to face him. "Isn’t a ship’s doctor good enough for you?"
You shrugged off his hand and stood up , trying to hide the mixed feelings on your face.
“It’s not that, Hongo, it’s… it’s complicated.”
“It shouldn’t be complicated… " He rose to his feet to match your stance, and his eyes locked with yours with a hint of pleading in his expression. "Actually, it’s very simple. At least for me, loving you is as simple and natural as breathing.”
His words pierced your heart like arrows set aflame. He might have tended to your back, but his gaze and his words were leaving your mind and heart reeling, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
“You love me…” You shut your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. Your heart felt so tired from struggling.
“Of course I do… You know I'm crazy about you.”
You opened your eyes again to meet his, his face calm yet sharply attentive to your reaction.
"I just..." your eyes darted between his, "need a little more time to sort out my feelings and make things... right."
He held your gaze for a moment, weighing the situation.
“I’ll be right here,” he said at last, raising his hands as if to hold the whole room.
You returned his smile. It wasn’t going to be very hard to come to terms with your feelings if he kept acting like this. As you discarded the dirty rag you had been holding into a bin, you turned and walked toward the door, feeling as though you were leaving a piece of your heart behind.
"I’d really love to see it again, you know? But maybe under different circumstances...” he said as you reached for the doorknob.
“See what?” you turned to look at him.
"That beautiful ass."
Bastard.
But your heart betrayed you, leaving you flattered and forcing you to suppress a smile.
He was a pirate after all.
“Oh, Hongo,” you looked at him with pursed lips, “I can’t believe it. Where’s your professionalism?”
“Seriously, I’ve been pretty damn professional.” He put his hand over his chest. “I didn’t even smack you, and trust me, I really wanted to.”
“Ugh!” You huffed, stepping out of the infirmary and bumping into Beckman, who was waiting for you outside.
“How are you feeling, Darlin'? Better?” he looked at you with his grey eyes.
With a smile you couldn't stop, you stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, leaving him stunned as you continued walking down the hall. Then the infirmary door opened, and Hongo stepped out, casually leaning against the frame to watch you walk away.
“Much better!” you replied over your shoulder, smiling to yourself before disappearing from their sight.
Pairing: Hongo x reader
Summary: You leave the bar and a guy tries to molest you. Fortunately, your doctor boyfriend is there for you… and for the attacker.
Notes: Doctors being doctors
Word count:250
It’s not like the guy actually has time to chase after you . He barely manages to grab your blouse when a polearm lashes out from the shadows, so fast that you hear it before even see it.
First, a blow to the stomach. Then, a sharp crack to the shins. The weapon strikes with clean and precise movements, forcing your would-be pursuer to double over just in time to take one final hit, square to the nose.
“AArhsggg!!!”
You throw your arms around the torso of the Red Pirates’ physician, who stands tense and menacing over the man on the ground.
“Don’t you ever lay a hand on my girl again. Got it?”
The man mumbles something incoherent, pathetically crawling toward a corner of the alley.
“You okay, doll?” Hongo drapes a protective arm over your shoulders.
You nod, clutching your boyfriend’s torso a little tighter as the two of you walk off to somewhere safer.Behind you, the man in pain lets out a long, pitiful groan.
Hongo stops in his tracks, closing his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No, Hongo, no…” you plead.
“Baby, I have to…” he sighs.
Two seconds later, your boyfriend is kneeling beside your attacker, using his own jacket as a pillow to keep his head high while gently dabs at his wounds with an alcohol-soaked cotton pad.
“Okay, now I’m gonna set your nose bone back in place, alright? Squeeze my hand real tight. It’s gonna hurt,” you hear him whisper, while you stare in disbelief, arms crossed.
I have been very sick for the last 5 days and I'm absolutely not getting better :( I just have temperatures and heavy headaches + I'm coughing the shit out of my body. So I wanted to ask for some comfort! Sick So with Marco, Law and Hongo! I hope that's okay, if not just delete this request.
Stay safe and hydrated!!<33
Oh no being sick is the worst and gross and I hate it. I hope you feel better by the time you see this. But I hope it helps <3
Law
He can come across as a little too clinical about things.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care or he doesn’t want to show his softer side, it just means he is all business until he knows what's wrong and how to help.
Once he’s set out all the medication and course of treatment, getting to the bottom of what’s making you sick he will let himself breathe.
He gives you water, medicine tells you in great detail what each one is and how it’s going to help.
The things he knows, the things he makes for you, it gets to the pain and nasty feelings fast and you feel better.
That’s when he’ll settle down with you.
Maybe sit on a chair next to your bed and read so he’s never too far away from you.
Every cough or wince of pain has his attention though and it’s back into full on Mr Doctor Man Sir.
He will hold your hand though, a book in the other.
You know he’s here for you and he’s doing his best to comfort you how he knows.
MARCO and HONGO under cut
Marco
He always feels a little useless when people get sick in a way that his powers can’t fix.
But at least he knows enough to help in other ways.
Any aches or pains though, and his hand is on you, the cooling blue flames bringing you relief which helps you deal with the parts of your cold he can’t help.
He’ll make you nice warm teas and makes sure you are comfortable.
Marco will set you up in his office, curled up on a sofa, comfy and with everything you could ask for while he works, always wanting to keep an eye on you.
His cool hand on your forehead is always a godsend.
“You’ll be okay in no time little bird, I promise yoi.” He says with a smile as he gives you more medication to help with everything else.
Sits with you, brushing your hair as he looks over his paperwork.
Hongo
Is so used to people getting sick on the ship because no one likes to do as their told or seem to have any sense of keeping themselves covered up in the cold.
He’s a little gruff and tells you how you got sick and what he’s going to do to help you.
He knows older ways of treating you, things people would roll their eyes at but they seem to work.
Spends ages mixing strange-looking mush or tipping an assortment of things into a bowl to crush into a powder, adding it to drinks.
It tastes horrible, but it settles you.
He’ll even forgo partying with the rest of the crew to keep checking on you.
Acts annoyed but actually likes sitting in and spending time with you.
Spends the entire time making bad jokes though because laughter is the best medicine.
