,, Wiping my seat. '' (1)
Beckman, Shanks, and Ace x GN! Reader.
Summary... a series of headcanons where you do the "wiping my seat" trend on them!
Contains... suggestive themes and flirts, usage of alcohol, fluff, and silly moments.
A/N: I am never on time for these things, Rayleigh and Gaban were supposed to be here... but I am ill and will post them later.
With another red-haired pirate party in full swing, meeting many new people and some old, Beckman had his hands full. Naturally, he'd went up onto the quarterdeck to have a smoke, to get away from the noise just so he didn't get the people coughing up a storm. Once again, he'd felt you coming up behind him from a mile away.
"Somethin' the matter, sugar?" He calls to you before you can get within six feet of him, spares you a glance before returning to his pack of cigarettes, lighting another one up. Just in the distance you can hear what sounds like Shanks singing drunkenly, and laughter from the friends gathered around him. Inside of your hand, you clutch the piece of tissue paper tighter.
A snicker slips past you, immediately alerting Beckman that something was up. He turns to face you, squinting at you in the dark just as a cold gust of wind blows through you. You shake against the wind, and Beckman begins to walk closer to you, forgetting the suspicious look he threw straight at you earlier.
"Here, just wrap this around..." Beckman grunts as he holds his cigarette between his teeth like a cigar, removing his purple grass-patterned cape to wrap around you instead. Just as his face is close enough, you reach out with the tissue in hand. When it swipes against the corner of his mouth, he waits until he's done draping his cape over your back before he speaks.
For a few seconds, he blinks, still staring down at you. You continue gently wiping his face, making sure to get the corners of his mouth— you can barely contain your laughter. Were there crumbs on his face? Maybe he'd had something gathering in the corner of his mouth... It could just be another prank the guys had delegated to you.
Beckman decides to ask you. "What on earth are you doing?" He sounds concerned for a second, but when you answer, that all flies out the window. "I'm wiping my seat off." That answer alone has him pausing for a moment, and he can only blink at you. Before he starts to smile, wide and pure. He blows smoke from his mouth, before stomping out his cigarette on deck.
"Yeah? I think it's just about ready for ya, huh? I'll go on and have you try it out in just a second." He grasps you suddenly, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads down to the deck, passing by the whistling crew and cackling captain. Oh boy, you're in for a long night...
Shanks is all about silly pranks, but he's normally the only one orchestrating these things, so of course he wouldn't expect you to have a certain trick up your sleeve. The problem is, he's surrounded by his men, and some other pirate affiliates, your nerves won't allow you to pull it off now... But, it's now or never. He's drunk, and after he gets done talking, he's heading straight to you for a kiss and then dragging you into bed with him, or his hammock, whatever he's in the mood for that night.
"Hey Lucky, got a napkin?" You nudge the man next to you, who is busy cooking up a delicious meal inside the kitchen. You narrow your eyes as you try to get a better look at your lover outside, still laughing with the crowd. Beck isn't there, normally he would find a way to disperse the crowd so you could mess with Shanks.
Lucky hands you a napkin, mumbling something into the lamb chop he's feasting on, you don't catch it, and instead swallow your anxiety and worry so you can walk out on deck. Your partner in crime is chatting with his lover up on the quarterdeck, it's now or never; you won't remember the prank in the morning. Shanks doesn't pay much attention to you when you walk up, and neither does the crowd.
With a shaky hand, you raise the napkin to his face. There was a bit of grease around his lips, so you spend some time wiping that off, completely forgetting your previous motive. Shanks' eyes widen as he suddenly turns silent, when the napkin moves to the corner of his mouth and his cheeks, he can finally talk again.
"Hey, hey, hey! What's that for? You're embarrassing me here, babe. How dirty am I, anyways?" Shanks chuckles at your antics, setting off a chain of laughter. You wait for him to stop flapping his lips and look up at you.
It takes every ounce of courage you have, at least all that's left after managing to make him yours. "Cleaning my personal seat." You state matter-of-factly. Shanks stares at you in shock, and the laughs halt— before his smile begins, getting wider by the second. Shanks starts to laugh, way too loud, you spot Lucky peeking his head out from the kitchen, nibbling on a turkey leg now, and Beckman throws a curious look your way as he retreats to his room. The crowd resumes their laughter.
"Personal? Well, I don't know about that... Ow, hey! That hurts! Ouch! I'm sorry! This sexy face is yours to sit on! YEOWCH! Stop pinching me! AH!" Shanks yelps and squeals, jumping left and right to avoid your pinches to his sides, the laughter doubles over, and it continues even when you drag Shanks off to your bedroom. Somehow, you managed to pull off that joke without fumbling over yourself.
All that laughing kept your seat nice and warm that night, you were glad for that.
Doing this joke with Ace would have two different outcomes depending on whether or not the other commanders were around. He values his image as the "confident and charismatic young commander" more than anything, even if many already knew he was completely different when he was with you. This time, he wasn't alone.
This was the perfect time to embarrass him and get back at him for the time he set your sweater on fire after he sneezed, he did have a slight cold, but your new sweaters singed fabric was the true tragedy. All he did was try and kiss you with his runny nose and chapped lips, you shudder involuntarily at the memory. That's besides the point— Ace is going to pay.
"Oh, now I remember!" Ace laughs, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he converses with Vista, everybody is adding on little bits and pieces, Ace expects you to do the same when he sees you approaching.
"Hey, what's up? Got nothing to do today, either?" Ace beams at you. Marco crosses his arms and glances between the two of you, he raises an eyebrow at the fancy cloth napkin you hold in your hand. You glance at it, too, and then at the crumbs on Ace's face. Back to the napkin, then Ace, and so on and so forth. Ace blinks slowly at the napkin as well. Somehow, Thatch has joined in, and is even doing his best frog blink.
After you've finished admiring their performance, you approach Ace and begin wiping his face. Ace furrows his brows at this.
"Uh...?" While you continue wiping his face off, dragging the cloth against his cheek, he grabs it from you and begins wiping his own face, still visibly confused, as is everybody else. Small, clueless giggles begin in the crowd. Nobody knows what your point is, but seeing the display, everyone cracks a smile.
"Ah? What's the shtick? Calling me dirty?" Ace clears his throat, crumpling the napkin into a ball and almost incinerating it, but Thatch gives him a glare as his fancy dinner napkins are threatened. Ace gives you an easy smile, and your own grin suddenly grows very sinister.
"Oh... Nothing. I just wanted to make sure my seat wasn't getting too dirty. I'll mess it up myself later." With a triumphant smile, you steal Ace's smile from his face, now glowing red as a fire poker on a winter night.
Immediately, the surrounding men snicker and laugh themselves to tears, some slap Ace on the back and give him a proud smile, others are smirking at the mention of anything even remotely sexual. Ace himself is clearly experiencing a technical error, and can't find any words.
"My man!" One person shouts, another whistles and cries out "get you some!" just as Ace lowers his head in shame. You are all too proud of yourself, and walk away with a little extra pep in your step.
Ace watches you walk away. The men follow his gaze and only whistle louder. He's never living this down. Especially not with that bashful "maiden-like" smile he's got.
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