you may see me once in a whileee (way more active on main)
current hyperfixation: jason todd. monsters. jjk. onepiece. manhwas.
felt the need to make a separate stan blog cause rbing on main felt out of place..
Drew these boys for a DTIYS challenge on my IG to celebrate hitting 2,700+ followers.
Bby Luffy is showing his gratitude to Benn in a very Luffy-esk way. Cheek chomps instead of cheek kisses. And a pink carnation because it represents gratitude.
WAKING UP TO HEAVEENNNNN. Realistically i would probably munch a piece of him away. Also no wheelchair in sight which is strange after getting the beckman-pounding
AHHHH IM HIDING THE CLOTHES. GOOD LORD YOU LOOK TOO GOOD BECKMAN, YOULL NEVER DRESS UP AGAIN. NOT WHILE IM WATCHING.
↻ fluff, crack, mention of injury, beckman almost died, cussing, grammatical mistakes
↻ pairing ↬ beckman x gn!reader!
@ilibili asked: Hello. I just saw that you write SFW for one piece and i have a request for benn x reader(fluff -6.)but could i ask for the reader to be the more mature or serios person i mean not childish and brat.
a/n here you go... my first benn fic. i hope that i do the justice in writing him! srsly hoping that he wouldnt be too ooc 😭 his name always gives me confusion but i decided to go with how the others were alrdy called as like roronoa zoro or monkey d luffy.
"out of the way! he's lost a lot of blood! i need to get him to my clinic!" you shouted at the crowd.
the red-haired pirate, one of the sea emperor is unfortunately, your dumbass best friend. while his first crew mate, beckman is your new acquaintance. the two of them had gotten ridiculously drunk, and decided to do more ridiculous thing that causes them their current injury.
"you dickhead! what were you both thinking?! stabbing each other!" you scolded them. shanks just continued laughing while beckman tried his best to keep control of his laughter due to the injury.
you felt like pulling the last of your hair out of your head, regretting to even become their friend. when you finally arrived at your clinic, you asked for shanks to lay the older male down on the bed.
"what's your type?" you asked, looking through the fridge that is filled with blood packs. "you," he answered. the red-haired stifled his laugh. you can feel the heat creep up to your face.
"you! get out of here! while you! i'm asking for you blood type! not who you'd be interested in!" you scolded him as shanks scrambled to his feet to get out of your clininc. "oh, it's x,"
when his face finally regain the blood that he had lost from before, you sighed deeply, slumping down in your chair. you could feel his intense stare at you. "say whatever you have to say,"
"i wasn't lying when i said you were my type... so, wanna try going out with me?" he asked, a tired grin displayed. "at least ask me out to dinner first!"
"right, i skipped that part. would you go out with me on a date?" you huffed out an annoyed breath, though it didn't hide the embarrassed look on your face. "s-sure,"
Synopsis: Feelings have been brewing beneath the surface for quite some time, and jealousy is a nasty trait, making Reader seek a distraction in someone else's bed. But then when the crew gets into a scuffle, and Reader almost makes a deadly error, it's Beck who's there to save the day as he always is, and in the midst of pain and medication, confessions are made.
Tags/Warnings: Beckman/F!Reader, Hongo/F!Reader, hurt/comfort, angst, getting together, brief mention of vomit, consensual intoxicated sex
Notes: This is my half of a fic trade between myself and @fanaticsnail, in which we both wrote a Benn/reader fic with the above prompt, you can find her half of the trade here (when posted)
Accompanying playlist: FF 78 - Look
Read it on AO3 or below the cut
Benn Beckman had never been the 'love' type of guy. He'd sooner sleep around with all the pretty people that he wanted, his only ties to the crewmates he considered his family, nothing calling him back to land and away from his dreams, and his Captain who needed him. When they did visit islands, docking up for hours, days or sometimes weeks at a time, Benn was more than capable of finding someone to waste time with. More often than not, it was a woman who'd come onto him because he was a famous pirate, and they decided he was better looking than most of the men in town - he didn't mind that. It was easy, no strings attached, and usually at least not a half bad fuck. Occasionally, it resulted in a fan who wouldn't be shaken so easily, but he just laughed it off with the others and sailed away, making a note to not return if it could be helped. It was a rare occurrence, but there was a list of 'do not visit until in dire straights' islands pinned up in the mess hall (a result of not just his escapades, but also those of his crewmates).
That all was to say, feelings were generally something that Benn attempted to avoid where possible. It just wasn't worth the trouble.
And then there was you.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You'd joined the crew just over a year and a half ago now, one of the newest additions. You'd clicked with the crew while they'd been docked for an extended time, just resting and enjoying partying. You'd come from an island that was largely deserted, aside from just two small villages clustered together on one coast, while the crew had been on the opposite coast. They'd ventured into the villages for supplies, food and booze mostly, but also a few medical supplies for Hongo. That's when they'd met you. You'd been in the bar when the crew had arrived to start drinking there, and you'd gotten talking with a few members of the crew. You'd kind of been dragged into one of their friendly debates, but you'd kept up with them with ease, as if you already knew them and had for a long time.
You'd left the bar earlier than them, clearly more sensible, and when they'd returned the next day they'd found you tending a produce stall that apparently belonged to an uncle, who'd wanted the day off. They didn't buy anything, because that wasn't what they were there for, they were there to talk to you. Despite being small, the island still had a low level of foot traffic from visitors, and one of those visitors decided to treat you as a fool. He'd underpaid you, insisting you were misremembering the things he'd taken from your selection and put in his bag, and when it became clear he wasn't going to admit his lie, you pulled a gun on him with a steady hand and cold eyes. He paid you what you were owed.
The crew had laughed and cheered, surprised by your apparent shooting ability, and had excitedly taken up conversation with you about it. By the time they were getting ready to leave, the men were begging you to consider coming with them. You fit just right with them, and you were more than this tiny village you'd been born in, you didn't even have a proper life here, not really.
They'd postponed leaving by a day to convince you, and when they did leave, it was with you on board.
You'd easily settled in amongst them, after some room shuffling so that you could have a space of your own away from the others. You'd joined in on their jokes, already having a similar sense of humour; you'd complimented Lucky's cooking and enjoyed it ferociously; you could drink with the best of them and while it wasn't a requirement it was a nice bonus. You may not be as strong as the rest of the crew, but you were more than capable, and so they were happy to train you in the places you were lacking to help you develop your abilities.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
Benn wasn't a lover, but boy did he have some festering feelings (that were absolutely not love, because that was far too strong a feeling for a crewmate and friend) for you. He ignored it as best as he could, because God forbid he attempted anything with you. He wasn't the sort for settling, he valued his freedoms and his crew too much to leave them for something domestic. But you were crew, and he wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. On one hand, admitting his feelings and pursuing you wouldn't take him away from the crew, and he didn't think you would try to stop him achieving his dream either, so those concerns were eased; on the other hand, pursuing a relationship with a crew member felt all sorts of dangerous - what if you didn't work out, and that put the dynamic of the crew off kilter and created awkwardness on board, would one of you have to leave? That wasn't fair.
If he were to tell anyone, he'd tell them that those were the reasons that he wasn't currently willing to pursue you.
In reality, it was fear. Sure, Benn had bedded many a woman, and even some men, in his time but he'd never actually had a relationship. At the very least, not in a long time, and he tried not to think about the last time and what that did to him. His bounty poster taunted him from his bedroom wall 'only dead', a direct consequence of his only attempt to have a real relationship in the past. So maybe he was a little afraid. What if you said no, and he'd really let himself fall and he was stuck there? What if you decided you were interested, and then changed your mind and he was left heartbroken? What if you were interested and agreed to date him, but then decided he wasn't all he was cracked up to be? He had zero experience after all, maybe he wouldn't be good at the whole relationship thing. What if he didn't have all the things you needed him to offer?
He wanted to have all the things that you might want from him. Desperately. He'd never felt like that before. He'd never wanted to give someone everything that they might want from him, and then give them more than that. He'd never wanted to cherish and spoil and adore and worship and support and protect and nurture and well, love someone. Certainly not like this.
You weren't interested though, he was almost sure of it. He was rather good at knowing when women were interested in him.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You hadn't ever anticipated being a pirate, and yet here you were, on one of the strongest crews in the world, if not The strongest. Every day you wondered what sort of star you had wished on to end up here amongst some of the pirating greats, especially since you weren't even near them in skill level. At least, not yet. You worked every day to become stronger, making strides in catching up to them, as best as you could while still taking care of yourself that is. You also were surrounded by very attractive men, and that was a bonus on all levels. It helped that they were also very strong men. You'd never felt so safe in your life. You'd dock on a new island with the boys around you, and no strange man would dare approach you, assuming either that one of them was already your boyfriend or just being aware that they were no match for the Red Hair Pirates. It was a pretty good bonus.
You weren't particularly someone who pursued bed partners when you docked, remaining on the ship with whoever didn't manage to find someone to sleep with that night, or hadn't been looking. Often, you'd stay up late together, drinking lightly and playing card games. It was a nice bonding experience.
The boys had asked more than once why you didn't put yourself out there, some times more respectfully than others. 'You're gorgeous' they'd told you, 'you could get any man you want' they'd said. You'd told them that you just weren't interested in sleeping with mediocre men who thought they knew what they were doing, when they truly didn't. It was harder to come by a man who knew what they were doing than with a woman, and they appreciated the truth in your words, and jokingly mourned your dead sex life for you. It had been funny. It was just as funny every time they did it, because you'd had the conversation more than once with different members of the crew and more than once with the same members because they were drunk the last time(s).
The crewmember who came home the least often, after Shanks, was first mate Benn Beckman. You and Benn got along well, he'd been teaching you how to use your gun against swordsmen and it was an invaluable skill you knew would save your life one day. He was a slut, to put it gently, and you couldn't hold it against him - in another life maybe you would be too. He also wasn't the only one on the crew, so there was no sense in commenting unless you wanted to make commentary on all the crew members.
The reason that you'd given to the crew for your lack of sexual activity was a lie, a lie directly connected to Benn.
You wanted him. You didn't want some man, a man who could never measure up to what you already knew the first mate could offer you. You'd heard more than one story of his sexual prowess, and had overheard his escapades before. But, it was more than a sex thing. You didn't just want to spend a night in Benn's bed - you wanted far more than that. You weren't sure that pirates got married, but judging by the way Shanks religiously wrote to his childhood friend Buggy and prior rival Mihawk, it didn't seem that farfetched. Maybe thinking about marriage was a little intense considering you'd never even kissed him, but that was how deep you already were in your little crush.
You'd be chopping vegetables, mopping the deck, doing laundry, showering, washing dishes, polishing your gun, dusting, or whatever other menial tasks you needed to undertake, and your mind would begin to wander. It would wander to thoughts of Beckman, sometimes a little more erotic in nature, but for the most part they were entirely innocent. His lips on yours, your fingers interlaced, waking up beside him in the mornings. You craved the simplest things, just domesticity - and you wanted it with Benn. Sleeping with strangers wouldn't help with that, because they couldn't give you what you wanted.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You watched as Benn left the bar with another woman, the opposite of every one of your features. What was it about them that you didn't have? What made you comparatively so unappealing to him?
Were they prettier than you? Were they more agreeable? Were they easier? Were they gentler? Were they less clingy? Were they less intense? Were they more delicate? Were they-. You were snapped out of your own thoughts by Hongo's hand colliding with your shoulder as he sat beside you at the bar.
"You're thinking too much. Another drink for the lady!" He called out to the bartender, giving him a thumbs up. Hongo was probably the more observant of the crew once inebriated, and yet he never asked what you were thinking or down about. You appreciated him for that.
You didn't like to be jealous, it made you feel gross. You weren't entitled to Benn, or his time, and realistically it was your own fault that you hadn't had so much as a chance to be with him. You'd never confessed, never told anyone about your feelings in fact, and that was to your detriment you supposed. If you were to just be honest, you may have more of a chance. Or maybe you wouldn't, and he'd turn you away for any myriad of reasons. So you stayed quiet.
Hongo handed you the new drink the bartender had poured for you, and you took it with a smile, walking with him back to the group with an arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. He was a great friend, even if he didn't quite know what he was doing for you. You hated feeling jealous, and so you did your very best to feel anything else, which sometimes just meant getting very drunk.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
Long after midnight, the sun likely to soon start rising, you stumbled back toward the Red Force with Hongo on one side of you and Limejuice on the other. You walked together, laughing, Limejuice still singing a song from the bar. You felt light, and happy. The crew made you feel happy. You could never wish them away, and you weren't sure how you'd ever lived without them.
Limejuice stumbled away from you the moment you were on the deck, heading for the bathroom (no doubt to be sick) he was easily the biggest lightweight amongst you but he had the privilege of waking up the least hung over because he was almost always sick before sleeping. Which left you and Hongo behind.
Hongo was a sweet guy, always looking out for you, and trying to make you feel better. You stood beside each other, just looking out at the water.
"I don't know who he is, but he's not here right now," he said, and surprised you with his words, "You know who is? Me." He said. He'd been the most sober of the three of you who'd made your way home together. You were sobering fairly quickly though, especially when you were out in the open air of the night, and with Hongo's words you only seemed to sober faster as you processed what it was he was saying.
"What are you offering, doc?" You asked, and despite your personal assurances that you weren't interested in other men, and you didn't much care about sleeping around, you were egging him on. You'd asked with a smirk, voice sultry, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.
"Come on. Let me distract you, love." He said, having turned you to face him. He leaned in closer to you so his chest touched yours, but he didn't move any closer. You knew he wouldn't without your permission.
"What kind of distraction are you offering?" You asked, even though both of you knew just what he was offering.
"The kind that will keep you in my bed til long after the sun rises," he said, and the promise implied by his words made a bolt of arousal go through you, "I know you've said you don't bother with men cause most of them aren't.. up to par, but I'm plenty confident that I'll match your expectations." You'd never known Hongo to be so bold, he was the least promiscuous of the boys, and yet here he was using all his charms on you. And it was working.
"Prove it." He didn't need any more provocation than that.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You, Hongo and Limejuice were the only people on the boat, and Limejuice wasn't likely to be disturbing you. That's why you didn't much mind when in just a few quick movements, the doctor had you bent over the railing of the ship, facing down into the ocean. He pressed himself up against you, hardening cock pressed against your clothed pussy.
"Tell me this is okay." He whispered against your ear, having leaned down to cover your back with his chest, one of his hands gripped your hip and the other rested against your side.
"Yes." You breathed out, the word barely audible, except to Hongo thanks to his close distance.
The cold air hit your clothed backside and for a moment you considered the idea that you'd been hallucinating Hongo as a result of the alcohol, but before you could even look to see what was going on, you heard something hit the deck, and lips were on your thighs. He had knelt down behind you. With gentle, reverent hands, Hongo touched every part of you that was accessible to him, pressing kisses in the wake of his hands. He took the belt loops of your trousers in the fingers of one hand, while the other looped around you to unbutton and unzip them; with one seamless movement, he removed your trousers, leaving you even more exposed. It was thrilling.
Deft fingers ghosted over your clothed folds, exploring your body with eagerness. Hongo's lips continued to press against your thighs, now making contact with skin, and then his tongue began to leave damp trails over said skin, making the night air feel even colder against you. Your skin came up in goosebumps, and Hongo pressed a few hot kisses over them as if to apologise, before catching you off guard by taking your skin between his teeth to worry a hickey into your flesh, at the same time as his fingers finally made contact with your fabric covered clit, making you gasp and give a half-aborted moan. He pulled away after a minute, no doubt having created a dark purple mark, and licked over it gently. His face pressed against your leg confirmed what you'd suspected - he was smirking. He was quite pleased with himself.
"I thought you were proving yourself." You commented, more capable of words now that the initial shock of all the contact had worn off. Hongo scoffed and continued his kissing upward, giving equal attention to each of your thighs, leaving a few more hickeys in the process. Thankfully, they'd be easy to cover up. Just as you were about to ask whether he planned on doing anything at all, he tugged down your panties, once again in one fluid movement. The ocean breeze against your wet pussy made you shiver, unconsciously whining. Thankfully, you weren't left cold for long, as Hongo took up residence in the space between your legs and pressed his tongue against your pussy.
You'd heard Hongo use his tongue to win arguments with the crew, watched him bite it while he concentrated on things like threading a needle, and had seen him lick the side of cups when he'd spilled something. You wouldn't have guessed just how thorough he could be with it though. Every movement of his tongue brought you more pleasure, and all you could do was clamp your hand over your mouth to avoid waking anyone who didn't need to see what was happening there on the open deck. His hot tongue circled your clit, sucking it into his mouth to torture you, then would disappear to push into your hole, soaking your core and your folds, and probably his face too. A single, slim finger joined his tongue, which then moved back to your clit, circling and flicking the bud to bring you pleasure. After the first finger came a second, and then a third, spreading you open gently to assist with what would come next. But Hongo wasn't letting you go anywhere until you'd finished on his tongue. You attempted to wriggle away, needy but simultaneously oversensitive, but he gripped your hip tightly and pulled you back to his face, pressing you close against him so that he could continue his ministrations. One of your hands covered your mouth while the other white knuckled the railing, desperate for something to keep you grounded. Thankfully, it didn't take long for you to reach your peak, eyes rolling back and knees desperately squeezing together. Hongo didn't move from where he knelt, licking gently through your folds for every last drop of your taste.
When he finally relented, he stood again, draping himself over your back, arms gently wound around your waist to provide comfort and stability.
"You okay?" He asked, and you could only nod, words temporarily escaping you. "That good, huh? You really haven't had sex in a while." He commented, and you huffed, rolling your eyes. He wasn't mocking you, and you knew that, it was a comforting sort of banter.
"Can we move somewhere more comfortable? My stomach is going to be bruised otherwise." You asked after a moment, pushing yourself upward from the railing. Hongo nodded, quickly helping you tug your panties and trousers back up so it would be easier for you to move. After another moment, ensuring you were stable enough to walk yourself, he guided you further onto the deck, and without warning scooped you up into his arms - he was stronger than you'd realised - and set you on the meeting table Shanks kept there. He had a thing for open spaces, you assumed. Not that you minded at all.
Hongo slotted himself between your knees, this time remaining on his feet, and leaned in close to your face.
"I suppose I should finally kiss you." He said, laughing as he spoke, and you couldn't help laughing along as you leaned in to connect your lips. He'd offered to distract you, and he was doing exactly that. Nothing else crossed your mind, except the way it felt to be so close to his warm body, and the way he touched you. The two of you fell mostly silent as you kissed, long moments of your lips connecting, before you'd move to adjust slightly. You'd not actually made out with anyone in.. a very long time. It was quite nice. But then his tongue was tracing along your bottom lip, and you were powerless to deny him, opening your mouth to let him in. Your tongues brushed against each other, exploring each other's mouths greedily, eager to have access to every inch of each other that was offered. You hadn't truly wanted Hongo until he'd presented himself as an option, but now you wanted him desperately.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to press your clothed bodies together, mentally mourning the lack of true contact between you. You continued to kiss without hurry as you began to grind against Hongo, his hardened dick hot against you, only making you want him more. You wanted him to fuck you, right there on the deck, and you didn't care if anyone saw. You needed him more than you needed your dignity. He seemed to know what you were thinking, as he smirked against your lips, grinding down on you in return. Hongo kissed down your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking, but never enough to leave any marks in his wake. He had the sense to want to avoid questions.
"Come on, doc. Give it to me." You moaned, one hand on the back of his head, the other gripping the table you were sitting on. You squeezed him with your legs, attempting to pull him even closer despite there being nowhere for him to go. Except inside you, that is. Hongo grunted, tightly gripping your hips in his hands.
"Say please, pretty thing." He said, looking up at you from his position against your chest, kissing downward to your breasts. You tipped your head back as he took one of your nipples into his mouth through your shirt, the action catching you totally off guard. He then tugged your shirt away so he could access all of your torso, leaving a few more hickeys on the flesh of your stomach, then returning to kiss and lick your breasts, one nipple taken between his lips and the other between his fingers, pinching and sucking to bring you pleasure.
"Hongo-" You moaned softly, fingers gripping his hair, accidentally pulling it from the tie that bound it. Your back arched to push yourself further toward him, and your core was throbbing, desperate for more.
"Say it." He whispered against your damp skin, making you shiver as his breath cooled you, making goosebumps raise across your body once again.
"Please!" You whined, louder than you'd been expecting, and you watched his eyes light up, having looked down at him as you'd spoken in hopes that your expression would also help to encourage him. He breathed long and slow, calming himself as best as he could before he completely ravished you.
Your pleading had worked, because Hongo stood and unbuckled his belt, then pushed down his trousers until they sat around his ankles, kept there by his shoes. He removed yours, and your trousers and panties, eager to get to you and finally feel you around him. You admired the bulge in his underwear as he worked, he was clearly achingly hard and you watched as it twitched under your attention. He was going to make you feel good, you could tell already. Hongo leaned forward, his dick pressing up against your folds, finally free and that much closer to being inside you. He kissed you slowly, one hand on your hip and the other taking his dick in hand, which he lined up with your hole.
"You ready, love?" He asked, pushing his tip through your folds, gathering the wetness there to help ease his way.
"Ruin me, doc." You replied, and you felt him twitch against you before finally, *finally* he pushed inside of you. You moaned loudly, hand slapping over your mouth immediately to help quieten your sounds, while Hongo continued to push inside you until he was fully sheathed, grunting softly.
It didn't take long for him to begin to move, slowly at first. You knew that both of you needed him to start slow, because you were both so highly strung that you ran the risk of ending the tryst before it had really begun. You moaned against your hand, Hongo's face pressed against your shoulder as he bottomed out inside of you over, and over.
"You feel so damn good." He muttered, his hands on your hips like vices as he struggled against himself. You knew he was restraining himself, letting you adjust, and you appreciated his attempts at gentle treatment - but you didn't want that.
"I said fucking ruin me, this is pathetic." You said with a scoff. Hongo's head snapped up to look at you, and a glint in his eye told you that your words were about to achieve the goal you'd had in mind. He smashed his lips back against yours to swallow your inevitable moans and he began to thrust into you harder and faster, hips slapping together and his tip slamming against your g-spot. It was what you'd wanted, and you loved a man who could take instructions. Grunting, moaning, and the slapping of skin on skin was the only thing to be heard in the early hours under the moon. He gripped you tightly, likely leaving bruises, and pounded you, panting, grunting and then speaking.
"Seas, you feel good. I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you love - everyone will wanna know who the lucky man was to finally fuckin' bed you, and it'll be me. But I won't tell them, don't worry, it'll be our little secret," he rambled between grunts and soft moans, "and if you never wanna do it again, I won't mind, it's an honour to even do it once, cause you're gorgeous you know." His words made you smile, but quickly you were distracted by the pleasuring rolling through you.
"Hongo-" you moaned again, louder now, your hand having moved to grip onto the doctor's back, nails digging into his skin and the other gripping the table for stability. You were going to come, on his dick - a man had never done that to you before.
"Go on love, come for me." He whispered in your ear, voice husky. Who were you to say no to that? So you did, you came, eyes rolling back, knuckles turning white as your grip tightened. Your pussy clenched around Hongo's dick, making him moan against your skin, quickly chasing his own orgasm. He pulled out at the final moment, quickly stroking himself to completion, and covered your pussy and stomach in his cum.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
Hongo collapsed downward, covering your naked body with his own, his elbows the only thing stopping him from resting his entire weight on you. The two of you rested there for a long moment, just panting, letting your heartrates slow again. Your hands absently trailed over his hot and sweaty skin, which was quickly being cooled by the breeze.
After another several minutes, of just laying and being close, he laughed and slowly stood straight, running his fingers through his hair. He leaned down to actually take off his shoes, trousers and boxers, preferring to walk around naked than zip his dirty body back into his dirty clothes. You slowly sat up too, carefully descending from the table to grab the clothes of yours that Hongo had discarded. You didn't bother too much with fixing your appearance, it could be done later once you were back in your room cleaning up and with cum running down your body, that needed to happen pretty soon. You began the trek back to your room, only to be stopped by a hand around your wrist.
"Hey, where are you going?" Hongo asked with a smile.
"Back to my room to clean up?" You replied, brows furrowed with confusion.
"I do not think so. What makes me a particularly good lay isn't just that I know what I'm going, but I also know the value of aftercare. Come on, we'll go together to shower off." He insisted. Despite what you'd just done, this was the same Hongo that you'd been friends with for your entire life on the Red Force. He was your doctor, and a good friend, and he was taking care of you.
You laughed and just nodded, letting him guide you to the communal bathroom. He turned on the water, and threw all your dirty clothes into the hamper, then followed you into the warm water. He made no moves to do anything else sexual, just grabbed a washcloth and some soap and began to help you clean up, smiling all the while.
"Shanks is gonna be so mad." He said with a laugh, starting a conversation just to fill the silence.
"What? Why?" You asked, amused but confused and maybe a little concerned.
"We had bets on when you'd give in and sleep with someone." He revealed and you gasped, gently hitting his chest. He only laughed more, continuing with his task.
"I know, I know, it's maybe a little invasive. But we never claimed to not be." He shrugged, unapologetic, and you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad at them. It was a little funny.
"So what were everyone's bets?"
"Well, most of us bet you'd last at least a little longer, maybe another month, and that you'd end up getting drunk and sleeping with an island local. Shanks bet you'd sleep with Beck." You gasped and inhaled some shower water, making Hongo laugh as he gently patted your back, making sure you were okay despite his amusement.
"Beck?" You asked once you were recovered enough to do so, and Hongo just nodded.
"Big reaction." He commented after a short silence, and you just sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. "You know you can trust me, right? You're like, my best friend on the ship." He followed with, which made you pause, but he was speaking again before you could respond. "Everyone is kind of paired up, even if we are all friends - or more like family really - but I was a bit left out. Now I've got you. I'm here to look out for you, whenever you need me." He finished, a little bashful, but clearly honest.
"Thanks, Hongo. You're mine as well." You replied, and took a moment to collect your thoughts. Hongo gently nudged you to rinse off in the water, and then you took the washcloth from him to return the favour.
"Beck is who I was thinking about earlier. I kind of have a really big thing for him, and I'm just.. stuck. I know what he's like, you've definitely heard him talking about it before too - he doesn't want anything long term, he isn't someone who wants to settle. I can't have him the way I want him, so I'd rather not have him at all." You revealed, and Hongo just listened. He rubbed a comforting hand over your back, and kissed your forehead.
"Well, it's his loss. You're amazing. And I mean that in an entirely friendly way. I had a hell of a time tonight, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, but I don't like you like that. It's just nice to have a friend you know you can trust if you have an itch to scratch, ya know?" You nodded and smiled at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. You did know, you understood entirely.
"I'll keep that in mind." You joked with a wink, then stepped out of the shower while he rinsed the soap away.
Clean and dry, you and Hongo parted ways to go back to your own rooms, more than ready to have a very long sleep.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You left the island the next day, in the later afternoon, and continued onward. You had a new, deeper bond with Hongo that you wouldn't change for the world. Your feelings for Beckman remained the same. Apparently Hongo had thought to clean up the deck last night, so there were no embarrassing questions to be asked on that front, which meant after waking up past midday, you had a fairly calm afternoon. You sat with Yassop, who'd apparently made a mistake with the girl he'd slept with the night before (she'd tried to lock him in her house) and so a new island was added to the 'do not visit except for dire circumstances' list. You'd laughed at his misfortune while you drank coffee together, waiting for Lucky to finish whatever he was cooking.
The three of you ate together, mostly in silence. Hongo arrived part way through the meal, and had collected some leftovers and a coffee for himself, sitting down at the large table with the rest of you. Slowly, more crew members trickled in to join you all, eating mostly in silence.
"So," you started, once pretty much everyone was there, "I heard you've got a little betting pool going on." A stifling silence fell over the room while you looked around with a fake severe expression, waiting to see who would speak.
"Well, uh, you see.." Limejuice started, attempting to defend the group, but apparently had nothing he could come up with. You just laughed, finally putting the men out of their misery.
"Don't worry, I don't actually care, just figured you should know that time is up, and from what I heard I don't think anyone wins." First there was gaping mouths and shocked expressions, and then roaring cheers, making you laugh heartily. What a bunch of lovable idiots.
"Okay so, what happened? I didn't think you went home with anyone?" Shanks pried, proud smirk on his face.
"Well, that's because we did it here. I heard there was time based bets, so you can organise those amongst yourselves." You responded, and Limejuice just stared at you blankly.
"But I was here last night!" He said after a long moment, and you just nodded.
"Sure were." You agreed, giving him a wink. Heads whipped around, and Limejuice blinked for a long moment before shaking his head.
"It wasn't me, stop looking at me like that! Stop trying to start rumours!" He protested, throwing a piece of food at you, which you avoided and let hit Lucky. He ate the food happily, making Limejuice pout.
"So who was the lucky guy?" Benn asked, mug held in his hands, expression passive. You just tapped the side of your nose, a gesture to signal 'that's a secret' and then returned to eating your breakfast.
"Lucky is definitely the word." Hongo remarked, and you kicked him under the table, making the two of you laugh. Limejuice looked between the two of you with suspicion written all over his face. Conversation returned mostly to normal while everyone finished eating, and then you began to collect dirtied plates to help wash up as thanks to Lucky for cooking.
"Wait a minute!" Limejuice said, stopping a few crew members from leaving the room. You snickered softly as you filled the sink with water, letting Limejuice have his realisations. "You didn't come back to the ship with a guy! You came back with me and Hongo!" Hongo stepped in beside you with a towel in hand, but leaned up against the countertop facing the room, and the crew, ready to help with dishes but happily watching the chaos unfold.
"So you were lying?" Gab asked, and you just laughed, shaking your head a little. You waited as everyone caught up with what was going on, and it was Benn that spoke.
"Hongo. She slept with Hongo, guys. Come on, you're smarter than that." He remarked, and the realisation dawned on all their faces. More cheering, and jeering, ensued as the two of you happily washed and dried up, helping keep the kitchen and dining room clean.
Shanks lingered the longest of everyone, just watching you and Hongo while the rest of the crew filed out of the room, laughing and joking together. He looked at the two of you for a long time, just thinking. Eventually, he left too, a lot on his mind.
You and Hongo just continued to laugh, joking about their expressions and reactions, while you did your chores.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You sailed for a long while, having stocked up enough at the previous island to not need to dock for a few weeks at minimum. Everything returned mostly to normal, as if nothing had changed at all. Though, you were closer with Hongo than ever before, often choosing to sit beside him, touching him subtly when you were in close proximity. You'd never been so comfortable with another person. You slept together a couple more times, but you never made a thing about it. You also talked to him about Benn, and your feelings when it all got a bit much. You hadn't expected it to come up much, since you'd managed so far just fine without having someone to confide in, but something about Benn had changed, just slightly, subtle enough that you weren't surprised nobody else had noticed or commented on it. Hongo hadn't noticed it until you'd pointed it out.
Benn had taken up staring. He'd stare at you when he thought you weren't looking, and when you and Hongo leaned against each other while you sat with the crew on the deck playing card games. He'd stare at you while you were doing chores, or talking to other members of the crew. At first you'd been sure you were seeing things, but then Hongo was seeing it too and it was real. He'd picked up a serious staring habit, and it was bordering on unsettling. You weren't quite sure what exactly had prompted him to start, but you just ignored it, hoping it would stop as suddenly as it had started.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
There was a ship on the horizon.
You didn't recognise their jolly roger, but they were sailing directly toward you. In fact, they had been for some time now. You knew that everyone had already seen the ship, and had begun to prepare just in case a fight came upon them, but you could only stare. In all your time on the Red Force so far you hadn't actually gotten into a fight, and most pirates weren't as honourable as your crew. It would be nothing like using your gun to protect your berri like you had at home. Your gun was already with you, cleaned and loaded, ready to be used should you need to. But you hoped it wouldn't come to that.
As the ship continued to sail, coming ever closer and closer, it became clear that your hopes wouldn't come to fruition. This was your chance to prove to yourself that you deserved your place on your crew, that they wouldn't need to coddle you in combat. You'd hold your own, because it was important to you that you proved you could.
You continued to sail.
Shanks, you found out, often didn't bother engaging in fights with small name crews. He didn't like to act as if he was better than people, but he was more than aware of his own strength, and if a small crew attempted to fight him, they had no chance. They wouldn't learn anything. Not that they had a chance with other crew members either, but it was the principle. The crew would realise they'd never had a chance to begin with, even without Shanks getting involved, and either they'd retire to keep themselves safe or they'd know they needed to get stronger. It was an act of kindness.
That was fine, you had faith in the other crew members, you knew that nothing would happen and that everyone would be safe. There was no concern of safety in the situation of a fight. Just your own competence. But you could work through that.
You watched from the deck as one of the members of the crew on the incoming ship stood upon their figurehead, sword in hand, and you knew that the fight was upon you.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
Benn could've beaten most of these guys with his eyes closed. They were nowhere near the level that they needed to be if they wanted to have a chance at defeating even one crewmember, never mind the entire crew. But, it was nice for everyone to have a chance to stretch their fighting muscles. Most of the rival crew were swordsmen, but it was no challenge really. Sometimes it could be tricky in a battle like that, if they were good with their weapon of choice, as it's easy to sneak up on someone but can be hard to aim a shot, especially if you're determined not to kill. It's hard to get a killing shot, sure, but once you're concentrating on not killing, you struggle more to avoid it too. Such is life.
Benn elbowed a younger crew member in the face, which knocked the kid out. He sighed and scooped the kid up, hopping over to the other ship to deposit him there. There was no sense in leaving him in the way on the deck of the Red Force where he could get hurt, or trip up someone else and cause more issues. For a moment, Benn stood there looking at the battle in front of him. Everyone was holding their own with ease, with Shanks and Hongo both sitting it out. Then there was you. He watched you for a long moment - you weren't succeeding as flawlessly as the others, but you were still coping and it was good. A marker for your progress. You fired your gun and it hit the guy in the shoulder, forcing him to fall back to where he was safer. In a moment that would soon prove devastating, you lost your focus. You looked around and locked eyes with Benn, apparently you'd felt him staring, and he saw what was about to occur before you could've thanks to his haki.
Benn ran for the edge of the ship, jumping onto the railing and then from that ship back to the Red Force. He yelled out your name, but you startled as if you were being yelled at for something, and it didn't prevent what was about to happen. A few other crewmembers looked up, confused about what was happening, and in a moment of stupidity, and feelings, Benn wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, and as a result took the sword aiming for you in his own back. He coughed, feeling the sharp pain for a moment which dissipated into a harsh ache as the blade was removed. The man who'd landed the blow cheered as if victorious, until you shot him, straight through his sword hand, which forced him to drop the blade and retreat to his own ship. The tone of the crew changed after that, their fighting harsher, until every one of the other crew was back on their own ship, sailing as quickly as they could away from the yonko crew.
Benn blinked slowly, coughing up a small amount of blood that coated his lips. He attempted to lick it away but cringed at the taste. Around him, everything kicked into action, but his vision was slightly hazy, and things sounded like he was underwater. Shock, he distantly realised. He knew he was being guided to move, and sluggishly his body did manage to follow the instructions it was given.
He was laying down suddenly you appeared in his peripheral vision.
"If you die, I'll kill you." He heard you say, and Benn's eyes closed with a smile on his face, falling unconscious.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You had never been so anxious in your life. Benn had taken a sword in the back for you, and probably saved your life, but it could kill him. Hongo had patched him up as much as he was able to do, and now it was just a case of waiting. Waiting for Benn to wake up, waiting for his body to heal, waiting until he was well enough to be yelled at. He'd passed out for blood loss hours ago, and you couldn't bare to sleep or eat until he woke up. You needed to know that he *would* wake up.
Hongo returned to the medical bay with two plates of food, one for each of you. He kissed your temple and set both plates on his desk, aware that neither of you were quite ready to eat.
"He's such an idiot." You muttered, not so much as looking away from Benn.
"Sure is. He's also a stubborn one, he'll be okay." Hongo assured you, reaching out to take your hand in his.
"He was staring at me. That was why I was distracted. So, it's all his fault anyway."
"Completely and totally his fault. You can tell him that when he wakes up, because he will." He assured you. Finally, you tore your eyes away from Benn and let Hongo hold you, holding you together while you held him together in return. As much as he tried to be strong for you, you knew he was scared too. Benn was such a key member of the crew, you weren't sure how any of you would cope without him if you lost him.
"Come on, let's eat, we need to have the energy to yell at him when he wakes up." Hongo coaxed, and you just had to nod. You were pretty hungry.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You, at some point, fell asleep at Benn's bedside. He woke up as the sun began to rise, and found your hand in his and your body hunched uncomfortably in a chair, your head resting on the bed he was recovering in. He looked down at you with a smile, and the feeling in his stomach had nothing to do with his nearly fatal wound. He didn't have the heart to wake you, even if you did look very uncomfortable. Just this once, he wanted to be selfish, and enjoy the feel of your hand inside his larger one, and the feeling he got from you being so clearly worried about him. He watched you sleep for a few minutes, just watching the rise and fall of your chest. He'd do it again. He'd do it a hundred times. Whatever damage he'd sustained was worth keeping you safe, and whole. He felt ridiculous for thinking it, for a man who'd never wanted to settle down he certainly acted like it in his mind when he thought about you.
You were the only person that had ever done that to him. He would burn the world for you, sure, but he'd also get married and cuddle and hold your hand in public and give you his last name. This was what love felt like, he understood that intrinsically, even if he wasn't sure he'd ever felt it before. He was willing to die without achieving his dream, leaving his crew behind to survive without him, if only that meant you'd live another day, even if it was only just one. Your life mattered more to him than his own, and the realisation was startling, but he knew with deep conviction that it was true.
With your hand in his, in a way that just felt so achingly right, he fell back asleep for a much more sound rest.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
You woke when the sun had risen, with a twinge in your neck and your back aching. The first thing that you noticed was that Benn's fingers had curled around your own, and moving away from his bedside felt like a waste. You might never get to hold his hand like this again
When Benn grunted and slowly opened his eyes, you shot up to your feet, leaning over him to block out the sun from the small porthole. He reached up one hand to his face and rubbed his palm over it to help him wake, but never removed his hand from your own. You forced yourself to let go, not wanting to restrict him or make him uncomfortable. Seas forbid.
"You are in so much trouble once you start feeling better." You told him, but hesitated to touch him or say anything else.
"Or you could say thank you." He joked, and you huffed, sitting back in your chair. Hongo came in not long later, pleased to see Benn awake, and began checking him over to see how he was faring.
"Told you he'd wake up." Hongo told you, and you just rolled your eyes. He hadn't been able to force you away from Benn's bedside the night before, and so had given up, just making sure you had a chair to sit on rather than the floor. Lucky brought food for you and Hongo, pleased to see Benn awake, but agreed not to tell anyone else until Hongo was more sure of what his condition was. You ate in silence while Hongo worked, and when he was done, he ate too.
"So the guy who nearly died just gets to starve? Nice to see that I'm appreciated." Benn joked and you scowled at him.
"Don't say that so casually." You scolded, and Hongo took that as his cue to leave, just asking you not to hurt Benn any more than he already was. You could promise nothing.
"It happened to me, I'm allowed to joke about it." Benn replied, struggling to be able to sit up, You threw out your arms as if to help him, but found that you had no idea how, and instead just watched as he suffered until he was happy with his position.
"If you died, it would happen to all of us."
"It would if you had died too." Benn replied, and the room went silent. You looked away, rubbing hands over your face while you calmed down and pieced together all the thoughts swarming around in your mind.
"Look at me." Benn said, but you couldn't.
He'd almost died. There was a world in which he had. He'd done it to keep you safe, and your heart roared and cried because even then, he still wasn't yours. He'd saved you from death, almost getting himself killed, and after this you were supposed to be normal about that. You were supposed to act as if that didn't make your heart sing, and your stomach twist.
"Just look at me. Please." Benn tried again, and he sounded more emotional than before. You forced yourself to turn to look at him, and his eyes were brimming with tears, you almost rushed to call for Hongo, to do something to help him, but Benn reached out and took your hand in his again.
"I'm okay. I'm alive." He whispered, gently tugging on your arm to guide you closer to him.
"Why did you do it?" You asked softly, looking down at him with wide, emotional eyes.
"I couldn't lose you."
"Don't say that-"
"I'd do it again. If that choice was given to me a hundred times, I'd choose to save you every single time. I'll save you in every life." He vowed, and the moment felt so incredibly charged and emotional, but was tinged by sadness.
"You're an idiot."
"Just for you."
The words felt like a jolt of electricity shooting through your body. He couldn't just say things like that! Especially when he didn't mean them the way you desperately needed him to mean them. You needed him to mean that he wanted to save just you, to dedicate himself to you, to care for you - but that wasn't it. He was just joking in the way the crew always did.
"You're.. so stupid." You said, lacking in anything else to say, and Benn just gave an airy laugh.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
The medical bay had gone quiet after that, and after an extended quiet Hongo assumed that meant he was safe to return, and do a few more checks on Benn. You slipped from the room, content to finally leave his side, to shower and change. He was okay. Benn would be okay. Hongo slipped into the bathroom as you were drying off so he could take a leak, and you paused briefly.
"He's going to be okay, right?" You asked him, and he sighed.
"As long as we can convince him to take it easy, he should be. But it's Benn, so we have a long recovery period ahead of us." He was a stubborn man, but you could make yourself okay with that. As long as he would recover, that was enough for you. You dressed and hung your damp towel to dry, before passing by Hongo on your way out from the bathroom, heading back to Benn.
You found Benn attempting to stand. Already, he was making everyone's lives hard.
"Benn!" You scolded, rushing toward him to prevent him from moving anymore, and preferably guiding him back to bed.
"I can't just stay here." He protested.
"Sure you can, doctor's orders. Get back in the damn bed. Where were you even trying to go?" You asked as he reluctantly allowed you to help him back into the bed, but you fluffed his pillows so he could at least be propped upright.
"Figured I'd come find you."
"I only went to shower and change. You really are a stupid man."
"That's what they say, isn't it? Love makes people stupid."
It felt like the entire world had stopped on its axis. Love?
Your eyes flicked up to his, looking for meaning in them, for whatever he must have meant because surely he didn't mean what he had said. Was this a cruel trick? If it was, he'd taken it much too far.
"Every life. Every time. I'd die again and again if it kept you safe." Benn repeated, and tears began to stream down your face.
"You can't say things like that when you don't mean it. It's cruel." He gripped your hand with unheard of desperation, expression falling. How could you possibly doubt his words?
"I mean it. I mean every damn word." He insisted. You were at a stale mate. All he could do was persist with his words, hoping you'd come to believe him.
"You've told us so many times. You don't want a partner - love isn't your thing."
"Maybe it is when it's you." Those words hung heavily in the air. How were you supposed to respond to that? What the hell were you supposed to say?
"You don't have to say it back." Benn said after the prolonged silence, and you shook your head quickly, squeezing his hand tightly.
"Oh Benn Beckman, you're going to be the death of me." You whispered, and then you quickly closed the space between the two of you, pressing your lips together. Benn's free hand wrapped carefully around your neck, keeping you close to him. He was sure that if you stopped kissing, he wouldn't be able to deal with it. He needed you this close always. You moved to pull away, and he near whimpered, gripping your hand tighter. You remained there, but pulled your lips apart, instead resting your forehead against his.
"I nearly lost you."
"But you didn't. I wouldn't do that to you."
"I take it back. We're both stupid."
"How much medication am I on?" Benn asked after a moment of quiet laughter was shared between you.
"A lot." You confirmed with a grin, still laughing.
Maybe it'd taken a near death experience, but now that Benn had confessed, you weren't going anywhere.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
Benn wasn't allowed out of the medical bay for weeks. He had a lot of healing to do, no matter how much the two of you wanted to just curl up in bed together and enjoy the honeymoon period. You had to be careful with him, for fear of hurting him or causing further damage to his already substantial wounds. But he healed.
You ate meals together in the medical bay, and you just talked. You discovered that the reason he'd spent so much time staring was because he was admiring you, in his own weird way, and he was kind of bitter that you'd slept with Hongo. He wouldn't hold it against you, of course, you could do whatever you liked. He did make a few joked aimed at Hongo, though.
When he was healed enough to begin to wander around the ship again, you were almost always at his side. The crew teased you, of course they did, but it was so worth ignoring it to be with Benn. He was a wonderful lover. He was so gentle, even if he was nervous, or unsure. He was so afraid of getting things wrong, of somehow hurting you, and it only made him a better partner - he was so soft and considerate. You'd not experienced a love quite like this before.
You helped him to shower when he couldn't raise his arms above his head, and while a part of you had expected some shenanigans to occur.. there was nothing. You were careful with his aching body, using only the gentlest of touches to coat his bruised skin in soap, and made sure to give his scalp a massage when you washed his hair. You exchanged slow and gentle kisses, hands exploring each others bodies just for the sake of doing so, getting to know the skin of your lover just for knowledge and understanding rather than pleasure. You'd never done that before.
When he was able to sleep in his own bed again, he'd invited you to join him. You were sure that even if you couldn't truly have sex, that there would be some light groping or sexual comments made. After all, you didn't sleep in all that many clothes. But, rather, Benn gently wrapped his arms around you, and let you get comfortable there. You rested your head against his chest, and he ran his fingers through your hair to ease you, coaxing you to sleep. He barely said a word at all, certainly didn't touch you anywhere intimate. You'd not realised that was an option.
Benn Beckman was a man who'd sworn off love, claiming that it wasn't for him. But, he loved you so clearly, and it showed in his every word and action.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
It was a clear, sunny day when Shanks approached you on the deck. Benn was sat with Yassop helping to clean the weapons, and you were happy to let him do that alone - you couldn't take up all of his time. You glanced at your Captain with a smile, gesturing to the spot on the deck beside you, and he sat there. You'd taken up residence near the figurehead, enjoying the warm rays of the sun that were topping up your tan. Perks of being in the sun at almost all times.
"Hey Cap, how can I help?" You asked when Shanks didn't speak first, just spending a moment basking in the sun, same as you.
"You and Benn, it's going well?" He asked, casual as anything. You supposed it was his job to worry.
"Yeah, really well. Don't think I've ever been happier, if I'm honest." You said, a little bashful about the admission.
"I knew you'd end up together. The two of you were driving me insane." Shanks replied after a moment, taking a long swig from the drink in his hand. Your eyes went wide as you just stared at the red haired man, processing what he'd said.
"Excuse me?" You replied dumbly.
"The two of you weren't subtle about it - you're both just stupid. And that's coming from me."
"You bet on me sleeping with Benn.."
"Sure did. Figured eventually you'd both get drunk, and get over yourselves. But, Hongo got there first." You both laughed softly, Shanks with amusement and you with some level of disbelief.
"You know.. we still haven't. Benn and I."
"Really? Damn he is taking his sweet time - he likes you more than I realised." Shanks said, setting his now empty bottle aside, focusing all of his attention on you. He'd known all along. Shanks had known and never said anything to either of you.
"You didn't tell me!" You yelled suddenly, and Shanks startled.
"What?"
"Or Benn! We could've been saved so much trouble!" There was a beat of silence and stillness before the two of you both scrambled to stand and you took off, chasing Shanks across the deck and down into the ship.
"What was that about?" Yassop asked, standing to look at the door you'd both disappeared through.
"Beats me. Cap probably deserves it though." Benn mused, and Yassop just nodded with agreement, returning to the task at hand.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.👒. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───
It was six months before he was entirely recovered, and even then you knew that sometimes if he stretched too far or worked too hard, something behind his ribs would twinge with pain. But he was Benn again, capable of doing everything that he had before. In all that time, nothing had changed. He treated you just as sweetly, he touched you just as gently, he loved you just as much. Nothing that you had done or said had scared him away.
You'd landed on another island.
The entire crew had headed to the island bar, happy to drink the night away as you often did. You and Benn sat beside each other, knees brushing, while he cracked jokes and you teased them for making eyes at women around town. You played card games together, which became increasingly harder to play as you all became more drunk.
Several women had made attempts at Benn. Sliding up beside him at the bar to begin a conversation, asking the barman to bring him a drink, making eyes at him from across the room. Benn, however, had eyes only for you. He rested a hand on your knee beneath the table, rubbing small circles into the skin of your thigh. You'd chosen to wear a skirt, treating the group outing as a date, because it wasn't often that you had the chance to really go on dates. When a particularly bold woman approached the table, leaning between Shanks and Limejuice to speak to Benn more directly, he spent a long moment just listening to what she had to say. Something about giving him the night of his life, and how he'd never want to leave.
"Is that quite right? Well, I have to say that I'll pass. You see, I've already got the love of my life warming my bed, but I appreciate the attempt."
Themes: Unrequited requited love, slow burn, long fic, long distance relationship, friends to lovers, found family dynamics, love over time, (smut, mdni 18+, NSFW - chapters will be marked accordingly), love-making, angst, hurt, gendered terms used, swearing, adult language. Benn Beckman x f!reader, platonic!Mihawk x f!reader, platonic!Shanks x f!reader, slight mention of MiShanks ship, Beginning: Shanks is 19, Mihawk is 23, Beckman is 30, f!reader is 22, Uta is 2 months old for the sake of the plot (canonically she's 2 years old). The f!reader is suggested to be native to Kuraigana with her mannerisms and language.
Notes: This thought ran away with me. It was meant to be a one-shot, but it took ahold of me. This is why I wasn't posting regular one-shots recently. Completed 5-part chaptered series for our main man, Benn Beckman. I hope you enjoy playing the part of Mihawk's secretary as you long and pine for the first-mate from afar.
As personal assistant to the newly titled ‘world's greatest swordsman,’ you were privy to the acquaintances your boss kept. Over the years, a young redheaded man continued to visit Kuraigana sporadically over time with his crew. But this trip felt different, something felt off. What were they hiding? And why did the entire crew all look exhausted?
Chapter 2
Distance and time growing between you, your newfound niece gets up to mischief as her uncles' backs were all turned. Using your personal den-den-mushi, you receive updates on her growth from the ever competent first mate. .
Chapter 3
Being called to a small island in the east blue, you enjoy a day out with your five-year-old niece. Her line of questioning has you question some moments yourself, your checkered past revealed to her in no uncertain terms.
Chapter 4
After tucking your niece into bed after dinner, the two of you finally give in to your lengthy longing and spend the night in the arms of one another. A revelation once morning arrives has the blissful world you have created with one another come crashing down around you. (Smut in this chapter, MDNI, 18+).
Chapter 5
The news you received made a ripple turn into a tidal wave, the information shaking you to your core and shatter not only your own heart, but the heart of your niece and her crew. The man you love pleads for you to process this information in another way, and you truly want to, but your duty causes you to place a hard barrier back up to fortify your heart.
This might be kinda vague, but could you do an arranged marriage scenario with Benn Beckman and a fem!reader? Where he marries her when someone offers to sell her to him??
Teasing from Shanks (Skanks) too because that’s just what he does
Ofc, here you go your fanfic with Benn, don't worry, it wasn't vague, Shanks is so silly here, for an instant I thought Benn would threw him in the sea
The air in the tavern was a physical thing, thick with the stench of cheap alcohol and sour hopelessness. You stood on the wobbly wooden stage, the rough fabric of your only dress scratching your skin. Your father’s sweaty hand clamped onto your arm, his voice a slurred megaphone.
"I got a prime piece of property here, gents!" he bellowed to the leering crowd. "Strong, healthy, and knows her place! Who'll give me a thousand berries to start?"
A few coins were tossed onto the stage, accompanied by crude laughter. Your face burned with a humiliation so deep it felt like a physical weight. You stared at a splinter in the floorboards and prayed for it to be over.
Then, a voice, smooth as polished steel and just as strong, cut through the filth. "Five million."
Every jeer died. The entire tavern swiveled towards the back corner. Leaning against a support beam, looking utterly bored by the entire spectacle. Benn Beckman. The name was a legend whispered in every port, the right hand of the Emperor Red-Haired Shanks. His sharp, grey eyes were fixed on you, and for the first time, you felt seen, not as an object, but as a person.
Your father’s jaw went slack. "F-five…?"
"Five million berries," Beckman repeated, pushing off the beam. He didn't break his stride, his long legs eating up the distance to the stage. He ignored your father completely, his gaze never leaving yours. He tossed a heavy sack onto the stage, the dull thud of a fortune in gold echoing in the sudden silence. "She's mine now."
He didn't grab you. He simply offered his arm. After a moment's hesitation, you took it. As he led you towards the door, a boisterous, cheerful voice filled with laughter rang out. "Well, I'll be damned! Benn Beckman, a family man!"
Shanks was lounging at the bar, a massive grin on his face. He gave you an appreciative, entirely friendly wink. "Didn't think you had it in you, old friend! Hope you know what to do with a wife! You can't just polish her like your rifle!"
Beckman didn't even turn his head. "Shut up, Captain," he said, his voice flat.
The deck of the *Red Force* was a world away from the tavern. It was alive with energy and purpose, but no one gave you a second glance. Beckman led you to a large cabin at the stern, closing the heavy oak door and shutting out the noise. The room smelled of old paper, gunpowder, and clean sea air.
He stood there for a long moment, just looking at you. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.
You told him, your voice barely a whisper.
He nodded once. "Alright. Here's how this is going to work. You're not a slave. You're not a purchase. As of this morning, we're married. A piece of paper, a signature. It means no one can ever sell you again. It means my crew will protect you with their lives. It's a shield. That's all it has to be, unless you decide you want it to be more."
The next few days were a lesson in quiet. Beckman was a man of few words and even fewer movements. He'd spend his mornings cleaning his rifle with meticulous care, his afternoons reading. He never asked anything of you, but a plate of food always appeared on the table for you, and a warm blanket was always draped over the chair you usually occupied.
Shanks, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of cheerful intrusion. He'd barge in daily, always with a gift and a teasing smile. "Just checking on my new sister-in-law!" he'd announce, plopping down on the couch. "Making sure old grump-face here is treating you right. Has he smiled yet? I bet he hasn't."
"Captain," Beckman would sigh, not even looking up from his book. "You have your own ship. Go bother it."
One evening, a violent storm hit. The ship groaned and pitched, and a particularly loud crack of thunder made you jump violently, your heart hammering against your ribs. You were curled in the armchair, trying to be small, when a heavy weight settled over you. It was Beckman's coat, smelling faintly of him.
"You'll catch a chill," he grumbled, crouching down in front of you. In the dim lamplight, his grey eyes were soft. "Hey. Look at me. You're safe here. No one on this ship would ever let anything happen to you."
The kindness, the simple, unwavering assurance, broke something inside you. A tear escaped, tracing a hot path down your cheek.
He sighed, a sound of deep, weary resignation. He reached out, his calloused thumb gently catching the tear. It was the first time he had touched you, and the contact sent a jolt through you. He watched you for a long moment, his gaze intense, searching.
Then, slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he leaned in. His lips met yours. It wasn't a kiss of fire, but of warmth. It was slow, careful, and impossibly tender. A question. An offering. You answered by kissing him back, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.
He pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a low murmur against your lips. "Are you sure about this? Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice trembling but steady.
He stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. He carried you to his bed, laying you down on the soft sheets as if you were made of glass. He joined you, his body a solid, reassuring presence beside you. His hands roamed, not with demand.
When he finally entered you, it was with a single, deep thrust that stole your breath. He froze, his forehead resting against yours, his body taut with restraint. "Alright?" he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion you couldn't name.
You nodded, your arms tightening around his neck. He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that wasn't about chasing pleasure, but about forging a connection. He watched your face, his eyes open and vulnerable, showing you the man he kept hidden from the world.
"Talk to me," you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair.
"What do you want me to say?" he grunted, his pace never faltering.
"Anything. Tell me I'm safe."
"You're safe," he said immediately, his voice thick with conviction. "You're safe with me. I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you again." He shifted his angle, hitting a spot deep inside that made you cry out. "I bought you to save you. I married you to keep you. And now... I'm going to make you mine in every way that matters." His movements became more deliberate. "This body is mine. These sounds you're making... they're for me. Say my name."
"Benn," you sobbed, your back arching as he drove into you again and again.
"That's it," he growled, his control finally starting to fray. "My girl. My wife." He lowered his head, his teeth grazing your collarbone in a bite that was more pleasure than pain. "Cum for me. Let me feel you."
His command, combined with a particularly deep, powerful thrust, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you shaking and sobbing his name. He followed you a moment later with a low, guttural groan, burying his face in your neck as he found his own release, his body shuddering against yours.
The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. The second was the scent of gunpowder, clean linen, and Benn. You were in his bed, the soft sheets tangled around your legs. You were alone, but the space beside you was still warm. Glancing down, you saw you were wearing one of his shirts, the soft, worn cotton far too big, falling to your mid-thigh. The sleeves swallowed your hands.
A quiet click drew your attention to the other side of the room. Benn was sitting at his desk, methodically cleaning his rifle. He was shirtless, his torso a map of old scars and lean muscle, the morning light from the porthole glinting off his red hair. He must have felt your gaze because he looked up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. He didn't smile, but the hard line of his mouth softened.
"Morning," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Sleep well?"
"I... yes. Thank you," you whispered, pulling the sheet up self-consciously.
He set down his rifle and stood, walking over to the bed. He sat on the edge, the mattress dipping with his weight. He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good," he said simply. "You look good in my shirt."
Just then, the door flew open with a bang. "MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!" Shanks bellowed, striding in with his usual manic energy. He stopped dead, his eyes widening as he took in the scene: you in Beckman's bed, wearing his shirt, and a very shirtless, very brooding Benn Beckman glaring at him. A slow, triumphant, shit-eating grin spread across Shanks's face.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, winking at you. "Looks like someone finally figured out what to do with his new—"
"Captain," Beckman interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. He didn't even raise his voice. "Get out."
Shanks just laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he backed out of the room. "Alright, alright! I can take a hint!" he called, his booming voice echoing down the hall. "But I'm expecting a full report later, Benn! And for god's sake, smile at the girl!"
The door clicked shut, and you couldn't help the small giggle that escaped you. Benn looked at you, and for the first time, a genuine, albeit tiny, smile touched his lips. It transformed his whole face.
"He's an idiot," Beckman grumbled, but there was no heat in it.
"He seems to care about you," you said softly.
He leaned down and kissed you, a slow, sweet kiss that was a promise of more to come. "He does," he murmured against your lips. "Now, come here."
Dry humping that beast of a man! Him sitting there with one hand behind his head and the other pulling his cig from his lips so he can exhale smoke directly into your face. Being desperate, panting, moaning, and damn near crying while rutting against him. As uninterested as he may act, he’s hard beneath you. That damn grin on his face when he notices just how erratic your movements have gotten with your release a fingertip’s distance away. You can almost taste it! The broken sob tearing from your throat when his big hand comes from behind his head and grips your hip tight enough to stop your movements. The salty tears running down your face as you beat against his broad chest in defeat.
“That ain’t nice, Sugar,” he teases, “I told Shanks he lets you get away with too much. Say you’re sorry.”
Meeting his eyes with a challenge in your own. Him frowning before bringing his cigarette back to his lips so he can free up his other hand. Said hand bunching up your underwear in the most delectable way. The pressure is heart stopping, and you find yourself breaking.
“Say it.”
“I’m sorry, Beck!”
“That’s more like it.”
His hand on your hip guiding your movements back and forth over his rough cargo pants. It’s not long before you are once again shaking in anticipation of the possibility of achieving that sacred bliss he has been withholding for the last hour. Afraid and needy, you immediately beg him to let you have the one thing you need.
“Please please please please please!”
“I aim to, Darlin’”
Your vision flashes white as the heat pools in your belly, and right before you grasp your pleasure he rips it away once more. Your scream of horror is music to his ears when you collapse against him sobbing in anguish.
I talked to God, he couldn't get me higher (shanks x f!reader)
summary: sometimes, the first time you do something comes unexpectedly. at least, to you.
warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex, first time squirting, established relationship, no use of y/n. mdni.
word count: 1658
a/n: yes, I was listening to "the first time" by damiano david when writing this - that's where the title comes from. considering that it revolves around the first time reader does something specific, it seems fitting!
this is an answer to this request.
masterlist
“Wait, wait, wait”, you said, supporting yourself on your elbows to get a better view of the man between your legs.
As you so often did, you found yourself at his mercy in your shared bed. After a party, when he had oh-so-not-innocently began kissing your neck, you two were a mess of hands and kisses on the hallway all the way into the room. Your chambers were lit by the moonlight and came alive with your whimpers and his groans.
Shanks propped himself up the best he could, given his missing arm. In his face, the look of pure adoration remained, with a slight tingle of worry. You weren’t one to interrupt him during such pleasurable activities in your shared bed.
You chuckled, letting out some air, half embarrassed. He lifted an eyebrow, now more curious than worried.
“I think I have to pee?”
“Was that a question, love?”, he replied jokingly, kissing the inside of your tight, hand still on your core. Your entire body trembled at the action, the hairs in your arm lifting with the shiver that made its way down your spine.
“I don’t know”, you replied, looking into his eyes. “Something’s different”.
“Bad different?”
“No… Just…”, you tried to articulate, throwing your head back into your pillow, “Different”.
Shanks let out a small hum at your words. He always looked so beautiful from this angle, red hair disheveled and skin somehow glowing. Truth be told, his beauty was always godlike, but in moments like these, when he was so deeply yours, something shifted and the etherealness became real and even more precious.
You lifted yourself up again, looking at him when he spoke. “How about you talk me through it, hm?”, he offered, kissing you once more, causing a small moan to erupt from the back of your throat, “And if you feel something bad, you let me know”.
He was the more experienced one out of the two of you. And you trusted him completely. If he was so at ease — not that his lightheartedness was unusual, but he always took your worries into consideration —, that meant nothing bad would happen to you. So, you decided to agree, nodding your head.
The smile he gave you made any doubt fly out the window.
The second he put his mouth back on you, your core tightened again. He made it look so simple. You let your head fall back, focusing only on Shanks and how damn good he made you feel.
Every movement of his was calculated, based on what he knew you liked. Each finger perfectly positioned — he used two to open your pussy and reveal your clit so his tongue could work its magic, another one helping with some pressure.
Once you had asked him what he did down there that was so amazing, to which he replied the trick was making different movements: the alphabet, circles, using only the tip of the tongue and then the whole thing.
Right now, as your hips lifted and your legs tried to close — stopped by his head —, he replaced his tongue with his fingers, rubbing small circles with just the right amount of pressure to your clit.
“Talk to me, baby”, he murmured, kissing your thigh again and then using it to support his cheek. Such a pretty face. “How does it feel?”
“It’s good”, your voice was high-pitched and low at the same time, as you tried to understand what it was you were feeling, “I feel… hot”.
“In a bad way?”
“No, in an I-think-I-might-die-in-a-cool-way”, you replied, lifting your neck to meet his eyes. A mischievous smirk spread through his face as he dove back between your legs like a man starved.
The way he ate you out was the way he lived: passionate, intense, unique. Each movement of his tongue was something no one could recreate, even if copying his technique step by step.
You felt the same urge again, as if you were about to pee or as if there was something liquid in you. The moan you let out was unholy, but it only fueled Shanks. He continued applying pressure and licking and kissing, his fingers and mouth working in unissound to drive you half mad.
“Shanks”, you called him, but he didn’t stop, only murmuring something to let you know he was there, that he was listening, “I feel that again, like I’m gonna pee”.
He raised his head again, but didn’t go too far. You could still feel his breath on your most intimate parts.
“Can you let go for me, love?”, he asked, his eyes shining like you were the One Piece itself.
His wish was your command. As much as you tried to help it, you were utterly helpless when it came to Shanks. You couldn’t fathom not doing as he pleased.
You nodded, and he smiled, and the world could’ve ended right then and there — but it didn’t. Oh, no, far from it. Instead, you felt as if a whole new life began the moment one of his fingers entered you, moving to stimulate that one spot in you, and his tongue found its way back where it belonged.
One of your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, and the other, that until now rested on him, flew to your face, covering your eyes.
Basic senses such as sight and smell became overwhelming. You couldn’t quite explain the feeling. It was a mixture of not seeing anything and seeing the whole starry sky above you on a clear night.
Perhaps you were making some noise, maybe you were completely quiet. You couldn’t really tell and you didn’t really care.
When Shanks inserted a second finger in you, you were a goner. Something inside you snapped like a rope that had been stretched too tight. You’d had amazing orgasms before, from all kinds of stimuli. From penetration to oral sex, even anal sex, you were able to cum from Shanks’ ministrations rather easily.
But not like this.
It was different, for sure. Longer, more intense. You thought for a fraction of a second that you’d died and gone to Heaven.
As you came down from it, you noticed your legs were trembling and air felt rarefied.
You opened your eyes slowly, letting the moon light creep in and reality settle. For a second, you weren’t really sure where you were. Your core still felt tight, like you could orgasm again just from someone blowing some air at your clit.
Were you going insane?
You found Shanks’ eyes, those beautiful eyes of his, and realized his smile was bigger than usual.
“Your smile is creeping me out”, you said, when you finally felt like you wouldn’t pass out from the effort of formulating a sentence.
He smiled, climbing the bed to kiss you.
When he did, you broke away to look at his face — really look at his face.
“Why are you so wet?”, you asked, tracing a thumb on his lips.
“The question is why are you so wet”, he replied, still smiling like a psychopath. “Touch yourself”.
You were taken aback at the command. Not because you wouldn’t do it, but because he had never been so forward after eating you out like this. He would tease and joke rather than command and dominate. But then again, he had never eaten you out to this particular outcome.
One of your hands moved downwards between your legs, still looking at him, and your eyes widened when you felt the mess the inside of your thighs and the sheets beneath you had become.
He laughed at your reaction — endearing, not making you feel ashamed. Nothing he did was ever to embarrass or harm you in any way, even if your cheeks flushed every now and then.
“Did I…?”, you began asking, to which he only nodded. “And did you…?”, you continued, to which he kept nodding.
“You’re so delicious, my love”, he said, leaning down to kiss you.
The thing with Shanks was: he didn’t have an arm. It was nearly impossible for him to be on missionary, on top of you like this without falling down at some point, particularly at the moment he lost track of himself because he was too immersed in you.
So, you didn’t really mind when his chest met yours. You just smiled, and he huffed.
He moved, laying by your side now, on his back. “Did it feel good?”.
You snorted, shocked that he asked that after you came with so much intensity it looked like you were being exorcized. “Take a wild guess, buddy”.
He laughed too, raising his arm to rest his forearm on his forehead. Always so beautiful, like a prince of the stories you heard as a little girl.
You turned your body, laying on your side to look at him — really look at him. The scars, the sunburns, the marks of battles and the life he lived before he met you. All of it.
He looked back, beneath the hand that covered his eye. “Now who’s creepy?”
You jokingly kicked him, amazed at how you could move your leg after cumming like that. After squirting like that, for the first time ever. You’d thought it was a myth, to be honest. But, with Shanks, even the wildest, most fanciful stories came to life.
You felt happy, energized and deeply in love. There was no feeling that compared to being so physically and emotionally connected to someone — so much so that for a second there it was as if your souls would merge.
You leaned forward to kiss him, as he made his way towards you too. Before your lips could touch, a loud knock at the door came from outside. You both looked towards it, confused. It was the dead of night, after all.
From the other side, came Benn Beckman’s voice in a yell.
I’m obsessed with Benn Beckman. Take this where you want it, could we get a nsfw scenario with him dirty talking and praising fem!reader in bed. I’m drooling for him lol
Sorry again for the long wait, I see a lot of people are drooling for Benn guess he's very attractive then, enjoy starlight ✨
The low lamplight of your cabin cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. Benn Beckman was a warm, solid weight behind you, his chest pressed against your back and one of his powerful arms wrapped securely around your waist. His other hand was occupied, tracing slow, deliberate patterns over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his calloused fingertips sending shivers up your spine with every pass.
You could feel the low rumble of his chest before you heard his voice, a deep gravelly sound that vibrated right through you. "Still with me, sweetheart?" he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Or did I already fuck you senseless?"
You let out a soft, breathy hum, arching back into him. Your body was pliant, buzzing with a pleasant exhaustion and the promise of more. "Still here," you managed to whisper, your voice husky.
He chuckled, a dark, pleased sound. "Good. I'm not done with you yet." His hand on your thigh shifted higher, his thumb ghosting over your slick folds, making you gasp. "Fuck, look at you. So responsive. I barely have to touch you and you're already shaking for me."
His praise was a potent drug, heating your blood and making your heart hammer against your ribs. He knew exactly what it did to you, the bastard. He loved seeing you fall apart just from his words.
"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he continued, his voice dropping to a near-growl. "Walking around on my ship, looking all sweet and untouchable. Makes a man want to ruin you. And here you are," he slid two fingers inside you with a slow, deliberate thrust, "letting me. Letting me have every goddamn piece of you."
You cried out, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. He set a languid, torturous pace, his fingers curling to brush against that spot inside you that made your vision white out.
"That's it, ride my hand," he commanded, his grip on your waist tightening. "Show me how much you want it. So fucking greedy for it, aren't you? My pretty little girl, taking my fingers so well. You're so damn tight, squeezing me like you don't want to let me go."
His words were filth, but they were laced with an adoration that made your chest ache. He wasn't just degrading you; he was worshipping you in the only way he knew how, with raw, unfiltered honesty.
"You're incredible," he grunted, his own breathing growing heavier as he ground his hardening cock against your ass. "So beautiful when you're lost in it. That face you make... like you're seeing god. All you're seeing is me, sweetheart. Just me."
He shifted, moving to kneel between your legs, forcing you onto your back. He loomed over you, his silver hair falling into his dark, intense eyes. He looked like a predator, and you were his willing prey. He lined himself up, the thick head of his cock teasing your entrance.
"Last chance to back out," he teased, though you both knew it was an empty threat. "Once I'm in, I'm not stopping until you're screaming my name and you can't remember your own."
"Please, Benn," you begged, wrapping your legs around his hips and trying to pull him in.
A feral grin spread across his face. "That's what I like to hear." He pushed forward, sinking into you in one slow, deep stroke that stole the air from your lungs. He paused, buried to the hilt, just to feel you clench around him. "Goddamn," he breathed, his forehead resting against yours. "Perfect. You were fucking made for me, weren't you?"
He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, hitting every sensitive spot you had. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, kneading your breasts, tangling in your hair.
"Look at me," he ordered, his voice rough. When your eyes fluttered open to meet his, he smiled. "There she is. My good girl. Taking my cock so deep, so fucking well. You feel that? That's all for you. Every inch."
The coil in your stomach tightened impossibly fast, his praise and his relentless pace pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Benn, I'm—"
"I know, baby, I know," he cut you off, his rhythm never faltering. "Let go. Come for me. I want to feel you soak my cock. Be a good girl and give it to me."
His words were your undoing. Your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your body convulsed beneath him. He groaned, his own control snapping as he chased your release, his thrusts becoming erratic before he buried himself deep one last time, spilling into you with a guttural curse.
He collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting anchor as you both struggled to catch your breath. After a long moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were draped across his chest. He pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to your sweaty forehead.
"Did so good for me," he murmured, his voice soft and sated. "So damn good."
A/N: Thank you Anons for requesting "yandere beckman x a young reader first time please" plus "Beckman has a fetish for corrupting his shy virgin fem!reader" I decided to throw them together because I felt that worked pretty well. I hope it's okay. I swear my writing muse decided to go on a very long vacation and I hope this turned out well.
Word count >4500
Plot: you used to work at a flower shop till Beckman offered you a thrilling life on the sea. Little did you know that Beckman wanted more than just to show you the world.
Warnings: NSFW, yandere Beckman, corruption kink, shy younger reader, Beck calling reader Petal, first time, Beck being a bit "mean", some praising, p in v, some fingering, some oral (receiving), handjob, not proofread, MDNI ⚠️🔞
Characters: Beckman x FReader
The salt wind whipped strands of hair across your face, stinging your eyes. You hugged your arms, not just against the chill, but against the sheer, overwhelming vastness of the ocean stretching to a horizon you never knew existed. This wasn't the neatly trimmed, rose-scented world of your past. This was the Red Force, a floating testament to chaos and freedom.
A week ago, you had been meticulously arranging peonies in Mrs. Gable's flower shop, the scent of damp earth and blossoms clinging to your apron. That day, a tall, silent man with silver hair and an aura that commanded attention had walked in. He hadn't asked for flowers. He had asked for you.
"You have a quiet sort of beauty," Benn Beckman had observed, his voice a low rumble that had made the delicate glass vases tremble. He hadn't threatened you, he didn’t need to. He had simply presented a world beyond your small town, a world with him at it's center, twisting your quiet longing for something more into a desperate need for his attention. He had woven a narrative so compelling, so focused on your unique fragility, that you had somehow found yourself agreeing to leave everything behind. He called it an invitation. You knew deep down, even then, it had been something different.
Now, that "invitation" had fully materialized. He stood beside you at the railing, a silent, imposing shadow. The cigar smoke curling from his lips was a familiar scent, a constant reminder of his presence. His arm was casually draped over the railing behind you, a territorial gesture that went unnoticed by the boisterous crew but felt like a physical weight against your back.
"Lost in thought, Petal?" His voice, deep and calm, always made your stomach clench. He had taken to calling you "Petal" soon after you had boarded, a nod to your past and a constant reminder of the bloom he intended to pluck.
You flinched, startled from your reverie. "Just… thinking about home."
A low chuckle vibrated through him. "This is your home now." His hand moved, slowly, deliberately, to rest on your waist, his thumb tracing small, possessive circles against the fabric of your dress. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, delivered with the quiet authority of a man who never expected to be defied. "You belong here. With us. With me."
He watched the subtle tremor that went through you, a tiny flicker of fear that he seemed to savor. "Don't you agree?"
You swallowed, the salt in the air suddenly thick, suffocating. You didn't dare look into those calculating, intelligent eyes. "Yes," you whispered, the word barely audible over the creak of the ship.
"Good girl." The praise was soft, intimate and utterly chilling. He squeezed your waist gently, a silent warning, a promise of what he intended to unravel, petal by agonizing petal. You were no longer just a florist, you were his newest, most delicate possession.
In the week that followed, Beckman didn’t just share your space, he began to build a new reality just for you.
He started by subtly orbiting around you almost 24/7 always making sure that he was your center, that he was the one on your mind and you found yourself subconsciously listening for the strike of his lighter or the heavy, rhythmic thud of his boots, anticipating it.
He summoned you into the office later one evening, nothing unusual you spent many hours there with Beckman teaching you how to read maps. The "lesson" Beckman had planned this time though wasn't about navigation or star charts. He had cleared the central table, leaving only a single candle flickering.
"You're falling apart, Petal," he murmured, standing behind you in the cabin. He didn't touch you yet, but the heat radiating from his body was a magnet. "The sea is too much for someone so delicate. You’re starting to realize that, aren't you?"
"I... I just feel out of place," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs.
"Because you're trying to hold onto a girl who doesn't exist anymore," he said, finally leaning in. His chest pressed against your back, and for the first time, the fear felt like a relief. "The florist is dead. You're a pirate's woman now. My woman. Stop fighting it and the shaking will stop."
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Tell me you want to stay here. In this room. Where it's quiet."
Beckman made sure you craved the cage he was building for you and you were too sweet to see it or maybe too shy to say something. "I want to stay," you breathed, leaning back into his solid frame. You were addicted to the very thing that was consuming you.
The air in the cabin was thick with the scent of tobacco and the impending storm outside. Beckman hadn't let you leave his side all day. He had been feeding you small sips of his heavy, dark liquor, fueling a heat in your blood that you didn't know how to extinguish.
He walked over to the leather chair and sat down, pulling you to stand between his knees. His large hands rested on your thighs, the callouses catching on the fabric of your dress.
"You've never been touched like this, have you?" he asked, his voice a gritty caress. He knew the answer. He had studied your history like a map.
"No," you whimpered, your face flushing a deep crimson.
"Good. I want to be the one to teach you everything. I want every thought you have about pleasure to be tied to my face, my voice, my hands." He stood up, towering over you, the sheer physical power of the man forcing you to look up. "I’m going to ruin that shy little heart of yours and you’re going to thank me for it. But since I'm in a good mood we're gonna start slow" he smirked predatory as he hinted at his belt.
Ypu swallowed hard and your fingers trembled violently against the cold metal of his belt buckle. You had never touched a man like this, let alone a man who looked at you like you were a prize he had spent a lifetime hunting.
Beckman didn’t help you. He leaned back into his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest, watching your struggle with a dark, patient amusement.
"Fingers shaking that much?" he hummed, his voice dropping an octave. "You’re making me wait, Petal. That’s a dangerous game to play with a man like me."
With a small, frustrated sigh, you finally managed to undo the leather. The sound of the buckle clinking felt like a gunshot in the silent room. Beckman's hand suddenly shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you flush against him. The sudden closeness made you feel small, fragile and utterly consumed by his presence.
"Since you're so shy," he whispered, his breath hot against your lips, "we’ll start with something you will be able to do without crying, something.......under the 'covers'."
He guided your hand beneath the fabric of his pants, forcing your palm against his member. Your eyes went wide, a gasp escaping your throat that was far too loud for the quiet room. He was solid, hard, pulsing and terrifyingly real. You felt the veins around his thick length and it made you involuntarily bit your lip.
"Look at me while you do it," he commanded, clearly amused by your shy little bite of your lower lip, as he began to move your hand in a slow, agonizing rhythm guiding you. Teaching you how to please him like this. He made your hand move slow at first adjusting your grip around him whenever you slacked, all while making sure you were looking into his eyes.
"Just like that Petal" he grunted as he urged you to move your hand faster and faster until you heard him growl deeply and suddenly felt something warm and wet cover your hand.
"Good girl," he praised as his breathing began to even out again and you slowly pulled your hand away staring at the mess on it and he chuckled.
"That's the evidence that you are ready for more" he explained though you weren't so sure about it but at the same time his voice, his presence and this feeling, the cum on your hands made you feel a strange sensation deep inside you.
"But not tonight, tonight you'll be sleeping in my bed and tomorrow your next lesson will begin, don't worry sweet Petal I'm taking good care of you, but first you better clean your hand and if you're doing it properly I'll keep you nice and warm for the rest of the night," he said and you wanted to go wash your hand but he stopped you with a dark chuckle.
"No Petal, not with water use your tongue show me how good you can be, how much you cherish what I give you" he smirked and you looked wide eyed at him before starting to lick his cum off and he loved watching you.
Only when you were finished did he pull you into his arms carrying you into his room where he indeed didn't try anything more and simply held you close his hand between your thighs but not at your core and you were truly believing that Beckman was really just trying to make sure you were save and cared for.
The next day Beckman kept you close throughout the whole day whipsering into your ear that you were expected in his cabin after you had finished your duties.
When you were finally done with today's work and a hovering Beckman never leaving you out of sight for too long you entered his cabin, your knees feeling weak already. Beckman was already there, leaning against the far wall with a cigarette between his lips. He didn't move as you approached, but his eyes followed every frantic beat of the pulse in your throat.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair.
As you sat, Beckman moved behind you. He didn't touch you at first, he simply stood close enough that his heat radiated through your thin shirt.
"A pirate’s life is about taking what they want," he murmured, his voice a low vibration. "But you... you wait to be given permission to even breathe, as you proofed last night. It’s not very pirate like but it's incredibly arousing."
He reached over your shoulder, his large hand splaying flat against your stomach, pulling you back against his hard chest. You let out a small, broken whimper, your hands fluttering uselessly over his.
"Shh," he hissed against your ear. "Next lesson. Your body isn't your own anymore, not after yesterday, not after you showed me you were ready to be mine. It's an instrument. And I’m the only one who gets to play it."
Beckman’s other hand moved to the top button of your dress. He didn't undo it, he just toyed with the fabric, his knuckles grazing your collarbone.
"I want to hear you," he whispered. "I want to hear every shameful sound you’ve been swallowing down since you joined this crew. If you try to stay quiet, I’ll just make it harder for you."
His hand on your stomach slid lower, his palm pressing firmly against the heat gathering between your thighs. You gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut.
"Look at me," he ordered.
You forced your eyes open, meeting his dark, predatory gaze in the reflection of a glass-fronted cabinet across the room. You looked wrecked, cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wide with a mix of terror and a blooming, traitorous heat and need.
"You like being handled like this, don't you?" Beckman’s thumb began to move, a slow, rhythmic pressure through the fabric of your dress that made your toes curl. "The shy girl act is just a mask for how much of a mess you are underneath."
He finally undid that first button, then the second, exposing the pale skin of your chest to the cool air. His hand slid under the fabric of your dress and just like last night, his calloused palm was cupping you with an agonizingly possessive weight, grinding down, making you shiver and wet.
"I'm going to ruin that innocence, piece by piece," he promised, his teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember how to be shy. You’ll only know how to crave the way I touch you."
You tried to speak, but all that came out was a high, thin moan as his thumb found its mark.
"That’s it," Beckman growled, his grip tightening as he felt you begin to tremble in earnest. "Let the crew hear you if they want. Let them know exactly who is breaking you in. You’re mine, Petal. Every cry, every blush, every drop of sweat. All mine."
His thumb circled your clit rapidly and firmly and you bucked in his grip, back arching and feeling ashamed of the sounds leaving your lips. Beckman on the other hand was savoring each little moan and gasp coming from you as he praised you. He moved harder until you came for the first but definitely not last time that night.
"Very good Petal, this was a small warm up now we're going to move on to the real fun," he growled into your ear.
He pulled you toward the bed. It wasn't a struggle, it was a surrender. He watched every flinch, every gasp and every tear with a terrifyingly sharp intellect, ensuring that your first experience was branded into your mind as an act of total ownership.
The mattress dipped under his weight and for a moment the only sound was the rhythmic creaking of the ship’s hull. He didn’t rush. He watched you closely as you sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of your dress that kept slipping down your shoulders.
"Look at me," he commanded. It wasn't loud, but it pulled your gaze up instantly.
He reached out, his hand engulfing yours, forcing you to go still. "This is the part where you let go of the shame. You think you’re losing something, don't you? That purity you’ve been hoarding like a prize?" He leaned in, his silver hair catching the dim lamplight. "It’s just a weight, Petal. Let me take it from you."
When he began to undo the rest of the buttons of your dress, his movements were surgical and calm. His eyes never left yours, pinning you in place more effectively than his hands ever could. As the cool air hit your skin, you shivered, but he was quick to replace the chill with the heat of his palms.
"So soft," he rasped, his thumb dragging across your collarbone. "I wonder how long it'll take for me to leave my mark on you. To make sure everyone on this ship knows who you belong to without me saying a word."
As the last of your clothing fell away, you instinctively curled inward. Your arms crossed over your chest, knees pressing together, your face burning with a heat so intense it felt like a fever. You had spent your life draped in modest linens and aprons, to be this exposed and under the gaze of a man like Benn Beckman, felt like standing in the middle of a firing line.
"I... I can't," you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny. "Please, turn the lamp off."
A low, rumbling chuckle started deep in his chest. He didn't move to the lamp. Instead, he stood up from the edge of the bed and began to shed his own layers with a casual, terrifying lack of shame. You heard the heavy thud of his boots, the rustle of leather and denim, and then the silence of a man who was perfectly comfortable in his own skin.
"Open your eyes, Petal," he said firmly but you couldn't.
"I said, look," he repeated. It wasn't a shout, but the sheer authority in his voice forced your eyelids to flutter open.
He was standing right in front of you, completely unclad and unbothered. He was a map of a life on the sea, countless scars crisscrossing a frame of hardened muscle, his skin bronzed by years of sea sun and his member bigger than you had imagined, not that you had imagined anything.
Seeing him like that, so raw and powerful, made your breath hitch. He was exactly the man you had always shyly and innocently dreamed about. Your blush deepened, spreading down your neck and across your chest, a vivid pink that stood out against the white sheets.
Beckman grinned, and it wasn't the comfort of a lover, it was the bared teeth of a wolf who had finally cornered his prey and was going to enjoy devouring it.
"There it is," he rasped, his eyes roaming over every inch of your trembling form. "You’re practically glowing. Do you have any idea how adorable you are when you’re this undone? Like a little flower trying to fold its petals back up after the sun’s already caught it."
He reached out, his large, rough hand hooking under your chin to tilt your face up. He forced you to look at him, then down at yourself, and then back at him.
"You're blushing because you're naked," he noted, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "And you're blushing because you're looking at me. You’ve never seen a man like this, have you? Never felt the weight of one?"
"N-no," you gasped, your heart hammering so hard he could likely see it beneath your skin. The sheer size of him was terrifying, but the way he looked at you, with a hunger that was both primal and deeply calculated, made a traitorous heat bloom in your chest.
"Good." His grin widened, dark and possessive. "I want you to stay exactly this red. I want you to feel every bit of this shame, because by the time I’m done, the only thing you’ll be embarrassed about is how much you’re begging me not to stop."
He leaned down, his heat enveloping you as he crowded you back into the pillows. "Don't hide. I want to see everything I’m about to ruin."
He kissed a path from your neck over your collarbone and stopped at your breasts licking over one of your nipples and you whimpered and closed your eyes again the sensation just too overwhelming.
"Don't close your eyes," he whispered as he leaned up and kissed your lips, his voice a low, vibrating growl. "I want you to see exactly who is doing this to you. I want you to remember the weight of me when you're dreaming and the feel of me when you're awake."
Beckman moved with a slow, agonizing deliberation, ensuring that every second of your shyness was exploited.
He pinned your wrists above your head with just one of his hands, his grip like iron manacles. It wasn't to hurt you, but to keep you from hiding, forcing your body to remain open and vulnerable beneath him. The contrast was startling, your soft skin against his scarred, calloused palms.
"Still trying to shrink away?" he murmured, his voice vibrating against the sensitive skin of your neck. He nipped at the junction where your shoulder met your throat, a sharp sting that made your toes curl. "You’re too soft for this world, Petal. You need to be hardened. You need to learn how to take what I give you."
He reached down to trace a finger over your wet slit moving it up and down looking down at you. "So wet for me, pretty little Petal" he mused as he pushed his fingers slightly between your labia and to your entrance and your back arched and your breathing became ragged.
"Beckman please—" you whimpered and he just leaned down till his breath burnt against your ear.
"Patience Petal just making sure I'm not hurting you" he whispered and pushed a finger inside you making you gasp at the stretch before he added a second and you tensed closing your eyes slightly while your heart rate was going up.
"Just breath Petal, you're going to love this, you're going to drop that shy act of yours and you're gonna show me what a bad girl you can be" he purred as he moved and scissored his fingers till he deemed you prepared enough.
He looked at his fingers and shoved them between your lips making you taste the wetness before you felt him nudge your entrance and then finally moved to bridge the final gap between you, the air in your lungs seemingly vanishing. It was an overwhelming invasion of space and spirit. You let out a sharp, broken sound that was something between a sob and a gasp as the reality of him hit you.
"Shhh," he hushed you, though his eyes were bright with a dark, triumphant heat. He didn't pull back. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead rested against yours, forcing you to look into the depths of his eyes. "Stay with me. Don't go back to that flower shop in your head. Stay right here, in this bed, feeling exactly what I’m doing to you."
He began to move, a slow and steady rhythm that felt like the tide, inevitable and powerful. Every time your eyes tried to roll back or close, he would growl a command for you to look at him. He wanted to see the moment your shyness broke, he wanted to witness the exact second your innocence turned into a desperate, clutching need.
He whispered dark, possessive things into your ear, praising the way your body was starting to react despite your mind’s protests.
"That's it," he rasped, his voice thick with his own rising heat. "Forget about being good. Forget about being pure. You're mine now. Every gasp, every tear, it's all for me. Tell me. Tell me you belong to me."
"I... I'm yours," you choked out, the words feeling like a seal on a contract you could never break. He groaned clearly satisfied with your words and picking up the pace, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room louder and louder as you felt yourself nearing a heavy orgasm.
Your fingers, finally freed from his grip, didn't try to hide yourself anymore. Instead, they scratched desperately at the corded muscle of his back, anchoring yourself to the man who was systematically dismantling the girl you used to be.
"Beck — haaa — I —" you stammered not able to finish the sentence as you felt him hit just the right spots and as one hand tightened it's grip almost painfully on your hips the other pinched and rolled your nipple and it was the final movement that shattered you and you came hard and loudly, almost sounding obscene and definitely not like the shy girl anymore.
Beckman though didn't let up. He watched your face go through the transition from shock to a blurry, tear-streaked pleasure that you didn't know how to handle as he rode his own orgasm out till his hot seed filled you.
When it was over, he didn't move away. He stayed heavy on top of you, his heart thudding against your chest like a war drum. He reached up, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with a calloused thumb, his expression one of absolute, terrifying satisfaction. He had successfully taught you that pain and pleasure, fear and safety, all began and ended with him.
"There," he breathed, a ghost of that wolfish grin returning. "The florist is gone. Now we can really begin."
The cabin was silent save for your ragged breathing and the distant creaking of the ship’s timber. You lay there, trembling and flushed, trying to pull the tangled sheets over your chest to regain some semblance of the girl you had been an hour ago.
But Beckman wasn’t finished. He sat back on his heels, watching your frantic movements with a look of cold amusement. He reached out and snatched the edge of the sheet, yanking it down to your waist with one effortless tug.
"Don't cover up now, Petal. We're past the point of modesty," he rumbled. He leaned over you, his shadow swallowing you whole. "You’re shaking. Is it because you’re scared, or because you’ve never felt anything that good in that dusty little shop of yours?"
"I... I don't know," you whispered, turning your face into the pillow to hide the tearful heat of your blush.
"Liar," he countered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, silken register. "You liked it. You liked the way I ruined that pure little image you had of yourself. Admit it."
"N-no... I couldn't," you stammered, your throat tight with a mix of shame and lingering pleasure.
Beckman’s eyes darkened. He liked the resistance; it gave him an excuse to be thorough. "Still too shy to be honest? Fine. I’ll help you find your voice."
Before you could protest, he moved. He slid down the bed, his large hands gripping your hips to hold you firmly in place. When you realized what he intended, your breath hitched in a panicked gasp.
"Beckman, please—"
"Quiet," he commanded.
He was a man of immense patience and terrifying precision. And as he began spreading your legs and holding them like that you whimpered. The moment his tongue made contact with your pussy to explore the most sensitive parts of you, he did so with the same calculated intent he used to win battles at sea. He was teasing the truth out of you, stroke by agonizing stroke or lick by lick.
The sensation was overwhelming, a sharp, wet contrast to the rough heat of before. Your back arched off the mattress, your fingers knotting into the silk sheets as a fresh wave of heat crashed over you. Every time you tried to close your legs or hide, his hands tightened on your thighs like iron bands, pinning you open for his inspection.
"Say it," he murmured against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers through your entire frame. He moved back up, hovering just inches from your center, making you ache for the contact he was now withholding. "Tell me you liked how I broke you. Tell me you want me to make you cum again."
"I... I did," you sobbed, the last of your shy walls crumbling. The shame was still there, but it was being drowned out by a desperate, newly awakened hunger. "I liked it. Please... Beckman... I liked the ruining."
He looked up at you then, a look of pure, predatory triumph on his face. He reached up, pushing his fingers into your mouth making you suck them as he kept lapping at your clit till you came all over his tongue.
"That's my girl," he rasped, his voice full of a dark, possessive pride. "See? Honesty suits you much better than that shy act. Now, since you liked it so much, let’s see how much more you can take before the sun comes up."
He had officially turned your own body against your conscience. You weren't just his captive anymore, you were his through and through craving him, his touch, how he unraveled you and the look in Beckman’s eyes told you he would never, ever let you go.
Taglist: @jintaka-hane @fleetadmiralsoffice @hakiofdreams @welcome-to-the-grandline @sailing-to-laugh-tale @legends-of-the-grandline @devilfruitdiaries @waannty @luna-the-moon-guardian @sweetsaltygingerbitch (once again I'm just reminding you that if you want me to stop tagging you please tell me or if someone wants to get added)
Summary: As the "mom" and "dad" of the Red-Hair Pirates, you and Beckman have a lot of work on your plates. (Un)Luckily for you two, your crew decides to meddle with your relationship (again).
A/n: A gift for my friend, @fanaticsnail . Enjoy the first mate, darling <3.
Notes: F!Reader, kinda of a will they-won't they type thing. Everyone is shipping it just Beck and Reader lowkey refuse to admit it. Lots of fluff and teasing. Reader is referred to as 'mom' and Beck as 'dad'.
Word Count: ~3k
You can read on my AO3 here!
“Dad! Mom’s being mean to me again!” Shanks loudly yelled while he was chugging more bottles of rum. The first mate sighed at the nickname but didn’t even bother to turn around and face his captain.
“(Y/n)?” Beckman called out.
“Yes?” You replied, the other members of the crew staring at you both with wide smiles and bated breath.
“Smack him for me,” Beckman chuckled. Shanks let out a faux-offended gasp as the deck erupted with laughter.
“You’re so mean to me! How could my own first mate do this to me?!” Shanks whined as you pat your poor captain’s head. He pouted like a little kid before he took another swig of his alcohol.
“That’s just what you get, Captain!” Lucky Roux laughed. “You know Beck won’t ever disagree with (Y/n)!”
“Well some of us need to be the adults around here,” Beckman retorted. He held two mugs in his hand, one filled with his coffee, the other prepared just for you. For the first mate, it was practically routine to make your morning drinks for you. He silently handed off your mug to you, and you took it with a hushed ‘thank you’. “Are you still making the list?”
You nodded while going over the notepad in your hand. “Tomatoes, potatoes, onions…”
“Don’t forget to add some carrots, since someone,” Beckman’s eyes narrowed at Limejuice, “burned them all.”
“Hey! It wasn’t my fault! I thought you eat them if they were black!” Limejuice tries to explain.
“They’re carrots, you can eat them raw!” Beckman shouted in exasperation. “You guys are going to kill me one day!”
“Oh, don’t be too harsh on them, Beck,” you try to soothe the first mate. “I can always take care of cooking duties, anyways.”
The men nodded, eager to have your cooking as a guarantee instead of whatever slop they would make in their often drunken stupor.
“Thanks, mom!” Yasopp cheered. “You know we love your cooking!”
“Not happening,” Beckman deadpanned. The men slunk their shoulders and groaned.
“Why not? (Y/n) makes the best food!”
Beckman rested a hand on his hips. “Because (Y/n) is already busy taking care of a majority of the duties on this ship. I’m not having her overwork herself because you guys couldn’t figure out that carrots are edible.”
Shanks put down his drink and nodded. “I have to admit, it’s pretty true. Beck has a point.”
“Thanks, Capta-”
“So I guess if you want (Y/n) to cook, you need to start picking up the slack!” Shanks proclaimed. “That’s a good compromise, right?”
You shrugged. “I-I mean, it’s really not necessary, I can cook, too.”
Beckman placed a hand on your shoulder and shook his head. “(Y/n), they’re grown men, they can do their own laundry and dishes. You don’t need to do everything.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” you chuckle. “‘Dad’.”
“Not you, too,” he groaned. “You know I hate that nickname.”
“I know, but it fits you.”
“‘Mom’ fits you as well.”
“Okay, you two, get a room!” Shanks laughed. Beckman glared while Shanks waved him off. “Anyways, why don’t you two take care of the shopping today? The men and I will handle things back here.”
“Are you sure? But Yasopp was saying-”
“Bah!” Shanks laughs off your concern before rummaging for a bag of coins. “Yasopp wasn’t planning on doing anything. Just take your time and get whatever you guys want. I better see you two relaxed and having fun when you get back!”
Beckman made a puzzled face as he took the bag of money. “You’re not slick, Shanks.”
“What’re ya talking about, Beck! I’m just saying, you two should take it easy today. You guys keep this ship and crew running. As captain, it’s only natural I let my best mateys have a day off every once in a while. I’m not some tyrant, you know?”
You stifle the laughter in your throat and and close your notepad. “Well, we really can’t complain, Beck. Let’s enjoy shopping for a bit.”
“Sure thing,” Beckman relented. He made sure his pistol was strapped to his belt and put the money into his pocket. “You got the list?”
“Mhm.”
“Good. I heard this island is supposedly famous for their bread. If we’re early enough, we might be able to snag some right from the oven,” Beckman comments. Your eyes widen.
“Really? We gotta hurry then.”
“Bye mom, bye dad!” Shanks waves with his remaining arm, causing the other members to rush back to the deck to see you off.
“Bye, you two!” Lucky Roux waves his stick of meat. “Don’t have too much fun!”
“Don’t stay out too late, lovebirds!” Yasopp jokes.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll not bring any rum back,” Beckman threatens.
“Aghhhhh! MOM! Do something about him!” The men whine to you while some of them boo and chide Beckman.
“Bad, Beckman, bad,” you chuckle as you and Beck begin to walk down the ship.
“You’re right,” Beckman plays along. “I’m just a horrible, terrible first mate.”
“The cruelest first mate around.”
“Mhm. And what does that make you? Just as bad?”
“Probably.”
You two go through the streets of the island, taking in the sights. It isn’t long before the sweet smell of bread begins wafting through the air and taking hold of the both of you.
“Oh man, they weren’t kidding,” Beckman mumbled after inhaling the smell.
“I think that means we came just in time,” you grin, excitedly walking up to the door of the bakery. You marveled at the selections within the store, as well as some of the bakers making the bread behind the counter.
“Wow…” you tap your chin. “Maybe we should get some brioche.”
“They do have flatbreads, too. We could get those for a meal,” Beckman hums thoughtfully.
“With tuna?”
“Now you’re cooking. Add that to the list for our next stop,” he commented, and you nodded before writing ‘tuna’ on your list.
“I’ll add some rice as well,” you say.
Soon, it is you and Beckman’s turn to order, and you two greet the old woman working at the counter.
“And what can I get you two?” You begin to place your order, before turning to Beckman.
“Do you think we should get anything else?” You ask, glancing back toward the display of pastries. Of course the first mate caught that and nodded.
“Two pastries,” he added. “You want that one, right?”
Beckman pointed at your favorite pastry and you smile bashfully at the fact he knew what you liked without you having to say a thing.
“Yep, that one,” you confirm. The old woman grins at you two and begins to package your bread. Beck takes the box of it to carry, and promptly thanks the woman. Afterwards, she puts your two pastries in a small, wax paper bag and hands it to you. She sighs contentedly and has a nostalgic look on her face.
“Oh, you two remind me of the good ol’ days. May your love stay with you forever,” she wishes. The sentiment catches you off-guard for a brief moment. “Sorry, we’re actually-”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Beckman thanks her. Your eyes widen as he smiles at you, and you can’t help the smile forming on your lips, either. You wave goodbye to the woman and exit the bakery with Beckman.
“Why’d you say that?” You ask, curious of his intentions. He shrugs, but there’s still a playful grin on his face.
“Felt natural,” is all he says as you two continue down the street. You rummage through the paper bag and get out the pastry he ordered for himself, one made with figs, and hold it to his lips. He stops his mindless chattering about things to get and leans down to take a bite.
“Mm, that’s so good. They got good figs,” he mumbles with a mouth full of pastry. You laugh at his silly behavior and wipe some of the crumbs off his chin.
“Let me try mine.” You take out yours and bite into it, melting at the exquisite taste of the pastry. “Oh, that’s amazing.”
“Right?” He says enthusiastically. “We have to come back here again and get some more another day.”
“We should bring some back for the crew next time.”
“Nah. Let’s keep this one our little secret,” he winks at you.
“You’re a very cruel first mate, Beck,” you tease.
“Well, can you blame me? They won’t taste as good without you eating them with me.”
“I think I have to agree.”
The day continues on like this, with you two continuing to shop and cart around box after box of supplies for the ship. Beckman and you have practically inspected every item for the freshest produce, meat, and fruits for the crew. Thankfully, you two are the most organized and efficient members of the crew and are practically finished before lunch.
“Did we grab coffee beans?” You ask, looking at your list again.
“Right here, dear,” he answers, showing you one of the bags.
“Okay, good,” you check off another box. “Is that really it?”
Beckman looks over your shoulder to see the list and the boxes all around you. “Would you look at that… guess we really did get everything.”
“I mean, this looks like all we need, but we did it so quick,” you say, admittedly wanting to spend more time with the first mate.
“We did. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t send Roux and Yasopp to do the shopping.” You laugh as you remember the time when those two went to get the supplies, only to come back near midnight with only the most expensive of alcohols and hardly any food. From then on, Beckman had set a rule that if anyone messed up that bad again, they’d have to pay with their own coin.
“Should we head back, then?” You ask.
“If you want. I have no problems walking around the town with you,” he replies.
“Considering you’re pushing that cart, I think we should go back and drop the supplies off.”
“It’s not a problem, (Y/n). This is pretty easy to pull,” Beckman assures you.
“Still, I-” you begin, before Beckman places a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey. It’s okay,” he states. “I’m happy to keep walking with you. After all, even our captain said we should enjoy ourselves. I don’t see any issue with us taking a bit longer to go back.”
“You really mean it?” Beckman nods.
“I do mean it. I enjoy our time together, and it’s rare we get the time to just do as we please.”
You hesitate for a moment then nod at him. It is true, as a pirate, especially in the crew of a notorious Yonko, moments of peace are rather rare and fleeting. Not having to fight for your life or the world is a nice change of pace every once in a while.
“Okay. Where to next?” You ask as Beckman leads you deeper into the city. The shops are more refined compared to the street markets near the port, leading your eyes to wander. You gasp and stop in front of a display window when you see a gorgeous selection of bracelets. Some are made with gold, others silver, and another with a shiny, black material. Beckman notices you frozen at the display and makes his way to you.
“Come on, let’s go in.”
“Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just looking.”
“Don’t be so modest, (Y/n),” Beckman urges. “Go try one on.”
“I don’t have the-”
“Nope. No more excuses,” he shakes his head as he opens the door to let you in. You step into the store, amazed at the beautiful jewelry surrounding you. A salesperson greeted you and chatted with you about the bracelets you saw on display. They pulled out the displays for you to try on and you debated which one to pick.
“Hm…I think I want to try that one on,” you point at the gold bracelet. The salesperson clasps the bracelet gently on your wrist and you marvel how it sparkles under the light. “Beck, what do you think?”
You show off the bracelet to him and he stares at it with a surprised expression before he composes himself. “It looks great on you.”
The excited look on your face makes his heart beat faster as you tell the salesperson you want to buy it.
“Good choice. I do want to let you know we are currently doing a promotion for this particular set. If you buy another one, it’s 50% off.”
You turn to Beckman expectantly. “Do you want to get one then, Beck? We can match!”
He examines the bracelets. “I don’t know, I don’t think they’d look that good on me.”
“Hey, you can’t pull that trick on me after you made me come in here!”
“Fine, fine,” he chuckles. “I think I’ll try this one.” He picks out the black bracelet and puts it on. He looks impressed with the jewelry and his face softens as he looks into your eyes.
“Well? Does it look alright on me? Definitely doesn’t look as good as it does on you,” he jokes.
“It looks great,” you look back into his eyes as you press your wrists next to his. “I think this should be another of our little secrets.”
“I’m starting to think my bad behavior is rubbing off on you,” he smirks, as he goes to pay for the jewelry.
“Maybe it is, Beck,” you respond as your eyes are locked on your matching bracelets.
The afternoon is spent wandering aimlessly in this town. You two visit nearly every shop, walking and chatting about everything under the sun. Things like memories, what the crew was possibly up to, to even the most mundane topics like sweets and how you like your eggs prepared.
It feels simultaneously too short and like an eternity between the two of you. He continues to lug around the cart of supplies and other things you two bought in your impromptu shopping trip, never looking any worse for wear. He doesn’t care to focus on something like that when he’s with you.
The sky is beginning to turn a bright orange and pink as the two of you finally manage to get back to the ship.
“Wahhh! Mom and dad are back!” Roux yells as the men cheer. Shanks leans over the edge and smiles at you two.
“Well, well, I didn’t think either of you had it in you to take a break!” Shanks admits. “We all started placing bets on if you would be back by noon.”
“I was saying midnight, for the record,” Yasopp shouted.
“You guys are so immature,” Beck chuckles while shaking his head. “We just explored some of the shops. Got a few things.”
“Anything fun~?” Limejuice says.
“Bowls?” You lift a few of the new bowls you bought at a store.
The men throw their hands up and groan. “Really? Nothing else?”
“Nope,” Beck lies, making them all quiet. He scans the deck and notices it’s rather clean compared to the smelly and alcohol-ridden floor. “So, you guys actually did clean up, hm?”
“Yeah! Course we did!” Shanks proudly exclaims. “I told you we’d handle it. Now where’s the rum-”
“When we have dinner.”
“Ugh… why are you the worst?”
“Don’t be like that, Shanks,” Beck crosses his arms. “(Y/n) and I won’t be around all the time to handle everything. It’s good for you guys to learn to take care of the ship.”
Yasopp sighs. “Always so mature and level-headed, I tell you.”
“You’re so lame, Beck! How does (Y/n) put up with you?” Limejuice whines.
“Mom, tell Beck he’s boring and needs to be cooler!” Hongo cries.
“Enough complaining, help put these supplies away,” Beckman points to the boxes. The crew begins to do as told while you and Beck start unloading some of the supplies. As you do so, Shanks calls your name.
“Hey, gorgeous bracelet. Where’d you get it?” He asks, loving the gold on it. You jump when he mentions it and look at Beckman, who gives a simple nod.
“Just got it from the shops. It was on sale.”
Shanks nods and lifts your wrist closer to inspect the bracelet. “Wow, it really looks great on you.”
“She would hardly step into the shop until I made her. She was eyeing that the whole time,” Beck teases you.
“Not the whole time, exactly,” you try to explain. “It just was pretty, is all.”
Beckman lifts a box up to a shelf and Roux loudly gasps, surprising everyone.
“Beck!”
“What? What’s wrong?” You and Beck say at the same time. Roux has a knowing smirk on his face as he points to Beckman.
“You got a matching bracelet, too!” Roux shouts.
Shanks and the other men gasp and move in closer to look at it. As Roux said, the black bracelet on Beck’s wrist matches yours perfectly, and the men howl in laughter. Some even begin to exchange money as you and Beck are mortified at their behavior.
“You guys seriously made bets?!” You cried.
“It was just a simple one!” Hongo admitted.
“And who was the one who said they were doing more than just shopping for food?” Yasopp rhetorically asks.
“You were also the guy who said they’d return at midnight. You lose half,” Roux retorts as he takes the money in Yasopp’s hand. Shanks huffs as he also gives some money to Roux.
“So like, did you two confess?” Shanks asks hopefully.
“For the last time- we’re not dating!” You and Beck shout in unison.
“Could’ve fooled me. You guys act like you’re married.”
“You guys are in so much trouble,” Beck sternly tells the men as he steps closer to them.
Some of the men begin to scream in horror. “Whaaaaa! Mom! Save us!”
