#Ben one piece

[breezeowci]

[captainsvscaptains]

Battle of the Captains

Grand Finale

No antipropaganda on my polls please - talk about the character you want to defend, not their adversary

[star-trekster]

Have you ever danced with the devil

In the pale moonlight?

[everth1ne]

One Piece - new opening scenes

[foxnikki]

Alright, I know I said I like the blond guys in one piece, but... what about the black haired ones?

They're so pretty-

[dodothefool]

crazy nepo baby action

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine taking Rayleigh and Shakky out on a date

This is part 2 of this post

Rayleigh: so you want to take us out on a pretend date to spite your first mate and captain for bullying you?

Reader: I know how it sounds, but I figured it'd be a good way to get back at them.

Shakky: While I'm all for helping you get revenge, I don't understand your logic.

You: well, Rayleigh is Shanks's father figure.

Rayleigh: That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose I'm the closest thing he's got.

You: And while I know you two have an open relationship, I thought fucking my captain's father figure would be crossing a line.

Shakky: probably a wise move.

You: And I wanted you to go on a fake date with you, Shakky because Benn has had a crush on you for years, but has been too nervous to ask you out on a date.

Rayleigh: so a date, with both of us, would be two birds with one stone.

Shakky: Oh, I know about his little crush, his poker face is terrible

You: I know, right? I saw him in here earlier, looking at you, he was about as subtle as a sea train.

Rayleigh: *turns to his wife,* What do you think?

Shakky: I dunno.

You: I'll pay for dinner.

Shakky: Deal.

Rayleigh: Pick us up at six thirty tonight.

That night during dinner

Rayleigh: *drinking straight from the wine bottle you ordered*, So how's the brat supposed to know you took us on a date?

You: Well, he planned on dining here at seven, so by the time our food arrives, he should be here. But you know him, he's not good at sticking to plans. If he doesn't come, we could take a picture as a backup plan.

Shakky: Sounds like a plan, in the meantime, we should have a proper date.

Rayleigh: yes, tell us about yourself.

An hour later

You: And Shanks, buck ass naked, slips on the wet rocks, falls, and smacks against the surface of the water!

Shanks: (y/n)?

You: *looks over to notice Shanks and his inner circle gawking at you*

Rayleigh: hey sport

Shanks: what's going on here?

Shakky: what does it look like? We're having a date with this little cutie. *wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder, giving a pointed smirk at Benn*

Rayleigh: *puts his arm around both you and Shakky and pulls you into his side,* They were just telling us about your skinny sipping mishap on Koala Island.

Shanks: No

You: yep

Benn: *glaring daggers at you,* You little shit, how long has this been going on?

You: Not long, this is the first date.

Shanks: Is this because of what we said two weeks ago?

You: a little

Shanks: *pouts,* We were just teasing.

Shakky: You're interrupting our date, it's quite rude.

Shanks: Fine, enjoy your evening.

Later

Shanks: *alone, passed out drunk on his table*

Rayleigh: *sighs* this boy I swear.

Shakky: Want to ditch him with our tab?

You: Yeah, but we're not gonna leave him without the cash, *pulls out his wallet and puts the Berry you brought along inside before sliding it back into his pocket*

The next day on the Red Force

You: *walks onto the ship only for everyone to stare at you*

Benn: You have some explaining to do.

Shanks: *bursts out of his cabin,* Did you fuck them?

You: no, I thought that'd be crossing a line.

Shanks: then where did you stay last night?

You: In their guest room, I helped Shakky open this morning because Rayleigh had wandered off after our date... Look, it wasn't a real date, Boss, I was upfront with them about my intentions.

Shanks: We didn't bully you.

You: It certainly felt like it to me, and when I voiced that hurt, you didn't apologize, and basically told me to stop sulking. So I wanted you to know how it felt, so I asked Rayleigh and Shakky to help me get back at you for bullying me.

Shanks: I see, *reflects on his behavior for a moment* I'm sorry we teased you, it was supposed to be a joke but ended up hurting your feelings.

You: Apology accepted.

Shanks: Now, please never date any of my former crew mates from my time with Roger.

You: I promise I won't knowingly date any of them.

Shanks: I don't like the way you phrased that, but fine, I guess.

Benn: Now that that's done, tell me how in the hell you got Shakky to go on a date with you.

You: Again, it was a fake date, but I simply asked.

Benn: I was afraid you were gonna say that.

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[mugiwara-lucy]

3 Things about this scene!

1.) Bartolomeo to Luffy is like how Tim was to Nathan in One Tree Hill; someone not quite loved as much as the other person loves them 😂

2.) Let's be real; Bartolomeo ain't dead. Again if Oda can't kill off KINEMON you think he's gonna kill off someone as beloved as BARTOLOMEO??

3.) If he is dead.....this is a controversial take of mine but if Bartolomeo actually bit the bullet here....I...wouldn't mind too much since it shows how ruthless Shanks is.

[kachowkins]

doodles of this loser !!!!!

[joltrify]

Messing with Heatblast colors and silhouettes in preparation for next years' redraw!! ft. The real Tennyson

[kusakiguzen]

Hello 👋 um I don't know if your request is open, but could you do yandere Shanks x female reader headcanon. Like how Shanks meet the reader, how he got obsessed, etc. (Can you make it where shanks crew is obsessed with the reader too, not in a romantic way and helps shanks)

A/N: It took me a while to get a good enough idea and i have two. I feel this is soul less but i did my best with my degrading mental health right now. I hope you enjoy.

I'm not really familiar with the crew except Benn so i did include him. I don't think this is my best work and i honestly hate it and will probably try again once in a better headspace.

I apologize if its not up to your taste

Warning: Has a shit ton of grammatical mistakes, I'm so sorry

Thank you for stopping by

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Red force. Laughter and the sounds of clashing swords filled the air, a reminder of the crew’s relentless spirit. You were nestled in a corner of the ship, blissfully unaware of the darker truths that surrounded you. As Ben Beckman’s little sister, you had grown up sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, always finding comfort in your brother’s protective presence.

Your first encounter with Shanks was a vivid memory. It had been a fateful day when your brother brought you on the infamous captain aboard the Red force for a visit. You had been playing with a few of the younger crewmates, their laughter echoing around you, when Ben approached, his usual calm demeanor slightly overshadowed by a hint of excitement.

“Y/N, come here! I want you to meet someone special,” he called, ushering you toward the main deck.

You followed, curious and eager. As you stepped into the sunlight, your eyes landed on the man with red hair, his grin wide and inviting. “Hey there! You must be Ben’s little sister. I’ve heard so much about you!”

Your heart raced at the sight of him. He was everything stories had described—a charismatic figure whose presence lit up the room. “Hi! I’m Y/N,” you said, beaming.

Shanks smiling while holding your hand, his playful nature shining through. “I hear you love adventures. How about we have one together? I could use a partner in crime!”

You giggled, completely taken in by his charm. “Really? That sounds amazing!”

That day marked the beginning of your bond with Shanks. He took you on a mini adventure around the ship, showing you the ropes and regaling you with tales of his travels. You listened, wide-eyed, as he spoke of battles and treasures, unaware of the underlying dangers that came with such a life.

As you laughed and explored, you felt a sense of warmth and safety that enveloped you. Little did you know that Shanks, even then, had been captivated by your innocence, seeing you as a light in a world filled with shadows.

Fast forward to the present, and Shanks was still a constant figure in your life, always by your side, watching over you with a mix of affection and an intensity that you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, Y/N!” Shanks called out one afternoon, striding over with that signature grin. “What are you up to?”

“Just watching the waves,” you replied, your eyes sparkling with innocence. “It’s so peaceful!”

Shanks’ heart raced at your words. He loved how you saw the world, so untouched by the dangers lurking just beyond the horizon. “You know, the world isn’t as safe as it seems,” he said, his tone shifting ever so slightly. “But I promise to protect you, no matter what.”

You giggled, brushing off his concern. “I know! Ben would never let anything happen to me.”

At the mention of your brother, Shanks’ expression softened. Ben was fiercely protective, almost possessive, and the crew had come to share that sentiment. While they all adored you, their affection had a darker edge, something you remained blissfully unaware of.

“Ben’s always looking out for you,” Shanks agreed, stepping closer. “But sometimes, you need to rely on others too. Like me.”

You smiled, oblivious to the way his gaze lingered on you, filled with intensity. “Of course! You’re my favorite big brother figure!”

Shanks chuckled, though a hint of frustration bubbled beneath the surface. He wanted more than just the role of a guardian; he longed to claim you as his own. But he also understood that you were naive to the world's cruelties. That innocence was something he cherished, and he’d do anything to keep it intact.

Meanwhile, Ben watched from a distance, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed. He’d seen the way Shanks looked at you, and though he trusted his captain, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him. He would always prioritize your safety above all else, even if it meant keeping you sheltered from the crew's darker inclinations.

“Y/N!” Ben called, stepping forward. “How about a game? Just the two of us.”

You perked up, grateful for your brother’s attention. “Sure! What should we play?”

As you wandered off with Ben, Shanks watched, his expression conflicted. He loved you dearly, but he knew that your brother's presence would always be a barrier. Later that evening, as you prepared to settle down for the night, Ben and Shanks found a moment to speak privately.

“Shanks,” Ben began, his tone serious. “We both care about Y/N. We need to keep her safe.”

Shanks nodded, his expression hardening. “I agree. The world is dangerous, and we both know it. But together, we can protect her.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “We need to be vigilant. No one can get to her without going through us.”

“Exactly,” Shanks replied, a determined glint in his eye. “We’ll make sure she never sees the darkness of this world. We’re in this together, Ben. We’ll keep her innocent and happy, no matter what.”

Days passed, filled with laughter and adventures on the high seas. Yet, as you explored, the crew’s obsession grew, entwining around you like a vine. You remained blissfully unaware, believing the crew’s protectiveness stemmed from love and friendship. Little did you know, their hearts were tied together by a darker thread, one that bound them to you more tightly than any affection could.

One night, as the stars twinkled above, you sat on the deck, lost in thought. Shanks approached, leaning against the railing beside you. “You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah! Just thinking about how lucky I am to be with you all,” you replied, your eyes shining with sincerity.

Shanks’ smile faltered for a brief moment, replaced by a more serious look. “You have no idea how lucky you are… or how dangerous this world can be.”

You tilted your head, confused. “I mean, I’ve heard stories, but it doesn’t feel that way here.”

“Exactly,” Shanks said, his voice low. “And that’s how it should stay. As long as we’re here, you’ll always be safe.”

You grinned, completely missing the intensity behind his words. “I know! You all make me feel so protected.”

As the night deepened, Shanks’ hand brushed against yours, an electric jolt that sent a thrill down your spine. You looked up, meeting his gaze, still unaware of the storm brewing within him.

The next day, Ben noticed the lingering touches and exchanged glances. He felt the urge to intervene, to remind Shanks of the boundaries. But deep down, he understood the allure of your innocence—the way it made everyone around you feel alive, almost compelled to keep you close.

“Let’s go on an adventure today!” you suggested, breaking the tension.

“Count me in,” Ben replied, masking his unease with a smile. Shanks nodded, but a flicker of possessiveness gleamed in his eye. He wouldn’t let anyone take you away from him.

As you laughed and played with your brother and the crew, you remained blissfully unaware of the intertwining shadows of yandere love that surrounded you. The Red-Haired Pirates had claimed you as their treasure, and they would go to any lengths to protect you, even if it meant shielding you from the very truths of the world that would shatter your innocence.

In the embrace of their twisted affection, you danced on the edge of a dangerous precipice, blissfully ignorant of the love that could turn to obsession at a moment's notice. And so, the sweet story of your life with the yandere Shanks and Ben continued, a delicate balance of joy and darkness that only time would reveal.

A/N: I didn't particularly like this piece but i still posted it.

Umm i hope you enjoy reading it @wereallmadhere666

Masterlist

Stay Safe, Healthy and Hydrated

[breezeowci]

[jae-in-a-trenchcoat]

Benrius week, day 3: road trip!

If they were taking a road trip that didn’t involve being chased down by microbangs and dinos

[thekraftcryptid]

Shanks relaxing after a long day of (fondly) bullying a small child, much to Beckmanns confusion. (He left for like 10 minutes)

Just a sketch that’s sat in my wip folder for too long. This is as done as it’s goin to get.

[moonmaiden1996]

Bound Fate Chapter Three

Chapter One Chapter Two

Days passed on Shanks’ ship, each one blurring into the next, and you found yourself caught in a strange limbo. You’d been taken, uprooted without warning, and now here you were—adrift among the infamous Red-Haired Pirates. The crew was constantly busy, bustling with life and laughter, but you couldn’t seem to find any comfort in the noise. Instead, you stayed tucked away in your small cabin, the walls pressing in as a dull mix of anxiety and seasickness coiled inside you. By the third day, you could no longer bear the confinement. Pushing through your reluctance, you emerged, finding a quiet nook on deck where you could watch the horizon stretch endlessly, a small attempt at regaining control over something, anything.

Each morning brought with it the same sounds: the ship’s wooden hull groaning as it carved through the sea, and the echoing, hearty laughter of Shanks’ crew filling the salt-laden air. And every single morning, without fail, there was Shanks—propped against the mast, as casual as a man could be, his trademark grin set firmly in place. He looked for all the world as though everything was just fine. As if he hadn’t uprooted your life. As if he hadn’t taken you from everything you knew.

The crew, despite their rough exteriors and intimidating presence, had been unexpectedly kind to you. They seemed content to let you be, casting only the occasional curious glance in your direction. But Shanks himself? He was proving to be impossible to ignore. No matter how hard you tried to fade into the background, he never let you slip too far away. There he was, always close enough to make his presence known, a constant reminder that you were no longer free.

To most of the world, Shanks embodied the image of a carefree pirate captain. He was notorious—one of the dreaded Four Emperors, a name spoken with a mixture of awe and fear. You’d heard the stories from the patrons back on your island. The Red-Haired Shanks was like a legend come to life, always laughing, always drinking, always the center of his crew’s universe. From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem he was having the time of his life, a perpetual smile and a bottle in hand. But you weren’t so easily deceived.

You’d begun to notice things that others might miss, the tiny hints beneath the carefree mask he wore. There were moments when the light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly, or when his jaw clenched in frustration as if battling something deep within. Whatever this bond was that tethered you to him—it was unsettling enough to rattle even a Yonko. And as unnerving as it was for you, the idea that even Shanks was struggling made it all the more terrifying.

One morning, as you stood by the ship’s edge, hands gripping the rail, you stared blankly at the open sea. The crew moved around you, preparing for another day, but their activity barely registered. You felt trapped, your old life slipping further and further away with each passing day. Every time you caught sight of Shanks, anger would flare hot and fierce in your chest. How could he do this? How could he act like this was all some big joke while your world was unraveling?

And yet, you couldn’t shake the pangs of pity that rose up when you caught glimpses of his own struggle. You hated that part of yourself, hated how conflicted he made you feel.

“Morning,” his voice cut through your thoughts, and you stiffened, keeping your gaze on the horizon.

“Leave me alone, Shanks,” you muttered, fingers tightening on the railing until your knuckles turned white.

He chuckled, his voice light but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore. “Now, that’s no way to start the day. With weather like this, I thought you’d be in a better mood.”

You spun around, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Do you think the weather matters? I’m stuck on your ship, because of you. Why would anything put me in a better mood?”

For a second, his smile wavered, a flicker of something darker crossing his face—a sharp look that left you tense, wondering if he’d finally snap. But just as quickly, it was gone, his familiar smirk back in place, as insufferable as ever.

“Fair enough,” he said, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “You’re angry, and I get it. You’ve got every right to be. I’m just trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

You glared, heart pounding with resentment. “Make the best of it? For who? You? Because this is a nightmare for me. I haven’t bathed in days; I don’t even have a change of clothes or a comb for my hair.”

His eyes softened, though his smile stayed. “I know. Believe me, it’s not just a nightmare for you. If I’m honest, it’s been hell for both of us.”

You blinked, thrown by the weight in his words. An uneasy silence stretched between you as his confession settled in the space between you. Part of you recognized the strain in his tone, but it didn’t make what he’d done any less hurtful.

Shanks took a step closer, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned against the rail. “Look, I’m not keeping you here for the thrill of it,” he said quietly, glancing out over the water. “I’m trying to figure this out. I’m trying to find a way to fix whatever happened.”

You stayed silent, watching the waves crash against the ship. “And if you can’t? If there’s no way to fix it—what then?”

Shanks hesitated, the weight of your question evident. Finally, he exhaled, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice rough. “But I won’t stop trying until I do.”

Your heart softened, just a fraction, at the raw honesty in his answer. But before you could say anything, he pushed himself back from the railing, that charming grin sliding back into place like armor, masking the vulnerability he’d shown just moments before.

“Well, no sense dwelling on it right now,” he said, voice light again. “How about a drink? Benn’s been bragging about this new rum he picked up.”

You scoffed, putting your walls back up. “I’m not drinking with you, Shanks. Just… leave me alone.”

He laughed, but this time there was a faint edge to it, a hint of tension pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging. “More rum for me.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his carefree laughter echoing across the deck as he joined his crew around a card game. But even as he laughed, you caught the way his hand tightened around his bottle, the flicker in his eyes when he glanced in your direction, as if he were fighting a battle only he could see.

xxxxx

The rough wood of the railing bit into your palms as you leaned forward, glaring at the endless sea with a tight jaw. You still hadn’t cooled down from your run-in with Shanks. His cocky grin, the easy way he brushed off your protests—it all made your blood simmer. Not only had he kidnapped you, but he’d done it without a single thought to what you might need. No clothes, no brush, not even a way to wash off the salt clinging to your skin. You felt trapped and, frankly, furious.

Heavy footsteps approached, breaking your solitude, and you turned to see a man with a powerful, rough presence leaning against the mast. Tall, solid, and sharp-eyed, he had the air of someone who’d seen too much, and cared too little about most of it. His silver hair was pulled back, strands falling loose around his face, which bore the lines of time, battles, and weariness. A cigarette dangled from his mouth, its smoke swirling in lazy tendrils around him.

“Benn Beckman,” he said, his voice like gravel, deep and rough. He didn’t reach out a hand; he simply stood there, meeting your eyes directly. His face didn’t give much away, but there was something solid there—a blunt kind of honesty that demanded respect.

You tightened your grip on the railing, unsettled by his straightforward gaze. “What do you want?”

“Brought you some clothes,” he grunted, holding out a bundle of folded fabric. He didn’t add any pleasantries, and from the way he looked at you, it was clear he didn’t care much about niceties.

Reluctantly, you took the clothes, your hand brushing against his calloused fingers. “Thanks,” you muttered, though it sounded more like a challenge than gratitude. “I wouldn’t need them if I hadn’t been dragged onto this ship.”

Benn let out a low, humorless chuckle, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Trust me,” he said, “I’d have been the first to knock sense into him if I thought it’d change anything.” His tone was blunt, almost dismissive. “But Shanks doesn’t always listen, even to his damn first mate.”

“So…what? I just have to deal with this?” You shot him a glare, hoping he’d give you more than the usual pirate answer. But he just looked at you evenly, like he was sizing up your resolve.

“Look,” he started, voice hard and level. “I’m not here to argue with you. Just here to make sure you’ve got the basics to get by.” He gestured down the deck with a curt nod. “There’s a room below deck. Set up a basin in there for you to wash up.” His tone was matter-of-fact, almost as if he were saying, This is the best you’re getting. Take it or leave it.

His sharp gaze fell on you, unwavering. “I’ll be clear,” he said, voice lowering. “Shanks isn’t himself right now. That pollen messes with a man’s instincts in ways that aren’t easy to control. So, if he’s acting half-crazed… don’t take it personally.”

You scoffed, barely holding back a bitter laugh. “Easier said than done, especially when he’s the one who kidnapped me.”

Benn’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening, though he wasn’t looking at you exactly—more like he was lost in thought. He took another drag from his cigarette, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Believe it or not, I’m not a fan of all this either. But you’re here, and until we figure this out, you’re as much a part of the crew as anyone else.”

Surprised by his bluntness, you looked down at the bundle of clothes in your hands. Simple, rough fabrics, but clean, and more than you’d had since Shanks had taken you.

With a curt nod, he turned on his heel and started down the deck, pausing only once to look back over his shoulder. “You’re not a prisoner here, no matter how it feels. Shanks may be losing his head, but don’t let that fool you into thinking you’re helpless.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, and the heavy sound of his footsteps receded down the narrow passageway. He led you through the dim corridors below deck, his presence commanding but not overbearing. Despite the stoic demeanor, his watchful eyes scanned every corner and hallway, his cautious steps somehow both relaxed and ready. He didn’t speak much, just enough to keep you on track, but his silence held its own weight, a seasoned calm that felt somehow comforting.

As you ventured deeper into the ship the air grew colder and darker, with only the soft glow of Beckmans cigarette offering any light.

Finally, he stopped outside a small cabin door just off from you own cabin and leaned against the frame, crossing his arms. His gaze was sharp but not unkind, assessing you with a subtle intensity. He gave a nod toward the door. “In here.”

Curious but cautious, you stepped into the room. A large barrel filled with warm water sat on a sturdy, makeshift table, steam curling up in the cool air. A clean cloth and a small bar of soap lay beside it, along with a fresh towel. It wasn’t luxurious, but there was an undeniable care in the details. For a pirate ship, this felt like something close to comfort.

“You’ll have this space,” Benn said, stepping in after you with a slight arch of his brow. “This room’s yours while you’re aboard. It’s set up just for you, so you’ve got some privacy. You are a gentle lady after all.”

His voice was gruff, yet there was a warmth beneath it that felt sincere. You noticed his arms were still crossed, but the faintest flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—a guarded softness that he kept mostly to himself. He gave you a small nod, like he’d done his part and expected no thanks in return.

“Thank you,” you said softly, still not sure how to read him.

Benn just shrugged, turning his gaze back to the hallway as if to give you a moment to yourself. “Don’t read too much into it,” he said, a smirk tugging at his mouth, the first real sign of humor you’d seen. “But if you need anything—more clothes, food, whatever—just ask. We’re not total brutes out here.”

You tried to hide a smile at that. There was something about his honesty, the way he treated you like an equal without any fuss, that felt grounding. Benn’s calm, collected nature was a stark contrast to Shanks’ unpredictable energy, and for the first time, you felt a small sense of relief on this ship.

“Look, you’re not crew, so no one’s asking you to pull weight. But if you want to stay busy, find me on deck. Could probably keep you out of trouble that way.”

You could see a glint of something almost playful in his eye, the faintest hint of a man who probably kept everyone on this ship grounded in their own ways. He gave you one last look, his expression unreadable but steady.

“If you need space, take it. But if you get in over your head… I’ve got an eye out.”

And with that, Benn gave you a nod and turned, his footsteps fading steadily down the hall, leaving you with a small smile and an unexpected sense of ease as you rummaged through the parcel of clothing, shirts, trousers, no undergarments and where at least double the size of you but it was better than roaming around the pirate ship in your scatterly clad performers outfit. The smell of smoke and gunpowder leaked from the fibers, it was what you expected from a pirate but oddly comforting. They were not the grimey garments you had been wearing for almost a week now.

Steam rolled off the water basin that was ideally sitting against the worn wooden bench. The hot water smelled strangely of lavender, filling the small, dimly lit cabin with a delicate aroma that contrasted sharply with the salty, briny scent of the sea. The room was basic but clean, with only a large barrel quarter full of icy sea water and a wooden bench that bore the marks of years of use. Its surface was chipped and rough, a testament to the ship's hard life at sea. An old wooden comb lay forgotten in the corner, a relic of a time when personal grooming was a priority, while a brand new bar of soap, with its pristine white surface, waited temptingly beside it.

As much as you yearned for a bath to wash away the grime and salt that clung to your skin, your exhausted body could not be compelled into the icy water. Instead, you opted to rinse your bottom using a stiff old flannel, neatly folded under the soap. The soap itself had a woody blend, decidedly masculine, and you cringed at the thought of how long it had sat unused in this space. Peeling the top layer of your outfit off, your nose crinkled at the sight of it falling stiffly to the floor, ruined beyond repair. Being naked on a pirate ship with a roaming Yonko was not really an option, so you pulled on the clothes, first the shirt and then the comically large pants that swallowed your frame.

Before you could even contemplate dipping the flannel into the water and using it to scrub every ounce of dirt you felt caked onto your skin, the door slammed open. You looked up in surprise, and there stood Shanks, an intense, almost wild energy in his eyes. His normally easygoing smile was nowhere to be found, replaced by a taut, barely controlled expression that you hadn’t seen before.

“Shanks?” you squealed, pushing the clothes in front of you.

He closed the door behind him, his eyes roaming over the small room and landing on you with a sharp focus, a predator assessing its prey. “What was Beckman doing here?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it, raw and a bit possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

You raised an eyebrow, tightening your arms in front of you. “He was just helping me out. Apparently, he’s the only one around here who realises I need clothes and some kind of…basic necessities, given that I’m here against my will.”

Shanks’ gaze tightened, his jaw clenching slightly as he took in the setup Beckman had arranged for you—the basin, the clean towels, and the quiet comfort of the room. Something in his expression shifted, a mix of frustration and…jealousy?

He forced a breath, his hand running through his hair in a gesture that spoke volumes of his agitation. “It’s not that I don’t want you to have everything you need,” he muttered, his voice softened but strained, each word heavy with unspoken emotions. “I just don’t like the idea of anyone else taking care of you.”

You blinked, unsure whether to laugh or be shocked at his possessiveness. “Shanks… I barely know you. And after you dragged me onto this ship, you don’t exactly get to act like you own me.”

He stepped closer, invading your personal space, his usual charm replaced by something darker, the effects of the pollen clearly gnawing at his self-control. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a tension that made you shiver involuntarily. “I’m not myself around you—not completely. And if you keep pushing me like this, letting others help you…” His voice trailed off, his fists clenched at his sides, as if the effort to hold himself back was taking everything he had.

“Shanks,” you began, your tone softening just a bit before a tremendous wave of energy surged from Shanks and his fist came down on the bench. The sound echoed in the small cabin, reverberating around you as you stood frozen, the moment heavy with unspoken feelings.

You clutched the clothes closer to your chest, your pulse quickening as Shanks' low, ragged breaths filled the silence. His back was to you, one hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly that the wood creaked under the pressure. His body trembled slightly, every muscle tensed as if he was fighting an invisible force threatening to consume him.

"Take them off," Shanks growled, his voice dangerously low, a command laced with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through you.

You blinked, not sure you had heard him right, the shock of his words hanging in the air between you. "What? No!"

He turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch the flash of his dark, feral eyes. “Take them off,” he repeated, slower this time, more deliberate, the very essence of his tone stirring an unsettling mix of fear and intrigue.

You clutched the clothes tighter, taking a step back instinctively. “What, so I can wear your clothes and you can claim me as your property?” The words slipped out, sharp and defiant, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Shanks let out a rough laugh, though there was no humor in it, only an edge of something darker. "No," he said, his jaw clenched, "because I'm about thirty seconds away from going out there and carving Benn in half."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words sinking in, heavy and suffocating. “Don't be ridiculous,” you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart raced like a wild drum in your chest.

“What’s ridiculous," Shanks growled, finally turning to face you fully, his eyes burning with barely restrained fury, "is me wanting to butcher my first mate of thirteen years just because his scent is near you."

The room felt impossibly small with Shanks looming over you, the intensity of his presence overwhelming. Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between defiance and understanding the very real danger in front of you.

"Fine," you huffed, your voice quieter now, more measured, yet holding a trace of your earlier fire. “Give me something of yours, then.”

Shanks’ eyes snapped shut, his body shuddering with the effort it took to control himself. His fists clenched at his sides as if the simple suggestion pushed him to the brink. "Don’t make it worse," he growled through gritted teeth, the tension in the air palpable and electric. "I can barely control myself as it is."

There was a pause, tension hanging thick in the air between you, like a coiled spring ready to snap. If I see you in my clothes," Shanks continued, his voice lowering, the threat clear in his tone, "I’ll be shutting us up in my cabin. And you really don’t want the crew to hear how loudly I can make you scream."

His words sent a rush of heat through you, your cheeks flushing at the blatant desire in his tone. But you weren’t one to back down easily. “Those are awfully big words to fill,” you challenged, though your voice was shakier than you intended, betraying the flutter of your heart.

Shanks’ eyes snapped open, dark and dangerous, his control hanging by a thread. He took a step closer, his presence swallowing the space between you. "Do you seriously want to push this?" His voice was quiet now, a low growl that made your skin prickle and sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through your veins. "Because if you do, I won’t be responsible for my actions."

Your breath hitched as the weight of his threat sank in, the raw intensity of his emotions cutting through the air like a blade. For a moment, neither of you moved, locked in a silent standoff, the tension humming between you.

"Now," Shanks growled, his voice dark and final, "take off the clothes, and walk away before I lose it completely." From beneath his cloak, his hand emerged with a small bundle. “They are new. They will fit better and they don’t reek of Beckman.” Shanks muttered lowly, the urgency in his voice laced with something deeper, something that hinted at the turmoil within him.

The choice lay before you, clear and dangerous. You slowly reached for the clothes, your heart racing, knowing that whatever you decided, there was no turning back from the line you both had crossed. Delicately, you snatched them from his hand, it not going unnoticed that his hand was shaking, his whole body trembling with barely contained energy.

“Don’t use the soap,” Shanks said, his voice coming out in uneven pants but with a hard edge to it. “We will get you some new soap in the next port, one that doesn't smell like another man.”

It was confusing; you didn't know whether to feel angry, scared, or sorry for him. His whole body trembled, and despite the look on his face, there was pain in his eyes, a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with his usual bravado.

“Are you alright?” you asked, the concern slipping out before you could stop it.

“What does it matter to you? You're my prisoner after all, I trapped you here.” And with that, Shanks disappeared out into the corridor, unnoticed by you, along with Beckman’s clothing and, more importantly, with your old clothing. The silence that followed felt heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that still crackled in the air, leaving you standing alone in the dim cabin, the weight of what had just transpired settling like a fog around you.

xxx

Back in his cabin, Shanks finally let himself crumble, sinking to his knees as the tension he’d been holding washed over him, relentless and demanding. The pain was sharp, raw—like a fire smoldering through his veins, a burning reminder of the pollen still lingering in his blood. It called to him, an unyielding command, whispering your name in his mind, urging him to abandon all sense and find you, to get on his need and beg you to let him worship you.

The scent was intoxicating. He reached for the dress he had snatch from the floor, despite the salt and sea a faint undertone to the subtler warmth of your skin. He clutched it in his hands, the silk fabric pressing into his palm as he buried his face in it, breathing deeply, as if that alone could bring you to him.

The ache only grew with each breath, but so did the solace. The scent was faint now, but he held onto it, savoring the softness that spoke of you even through the salt and wind. Inhaling again, his mind filled with thoughts of you, and the painful pull inside him sharpened, twisting in a way that left him weak, but he wouldn’t resist it.

He stayed like that, eyes closed, letting your scent linger on his skin, keeping him grounded even as the pollen made his blood sing with need. And for now, the weight of it was almost bearable.

@commanderfreethatdust

I really hope you are enjoying reading as much as I am enjoying writing this. I have already started planning a reader x Sanji and reader x Zoro fiction in the same universe.

Please like, comment, or make a request

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝙲/𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚏𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎

Ft. Gol D. Roger, Rayleigh, Ben Beckman, Shanks (This can be when they were younger or older idc)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Cockwarming, Fingering, Kissing, Dirty Talk(?)

Roger

Gol D is such a simple man when it comes to you and your pussy.

If you offer to sit down on his cock as he drinks the night away he’ll be over the moon

“Roger, we’ll be in front of the crew though…”

“Yeah, well…we’ll also be in a corner and you’ll have this pretty dress on.”

His infamous smile showing his deep dimples behind that nose hair of his never failed to make you roll your eyes and agree to his slutty plans.

You and him now cozied up as the party goes on his ship, his tip softly hitting spots in your pussy that makes you softly whimper whenever he adjusts his hips in his seats

“You’re like my personal little heater.” He hums drunkly in your ear, nearly about to grope your breast but you slap his hand

“Shut up Roger!”

Rayleigh

Big…Big..he’s so big.

It’s not the length that Rayleigh has that gets you it’s the GIRTH.

Whenever he offers you to sit down and say still it’s purely out of punishment.

“Seems I spoiled you too much today huh?”

You squeeze down at his words, his musky natural scent and his breath hitting your ear as you sat so painfully still on his lap as he read—

“Porn. Really…you’re reading fucking porn.”

“Ssssh.” He kisses the pout you have on your lips and a firm swat landed on your butt right after making your nude body jolt against his. “‘M reading, now.”

You knew if you rocked Your hips against his you’d be in trouble. You knew, and he almost read your mind from the glint in your eyes staring down at the wet mess connecting you both.

Rayleigh knew you wouldn’t last keeping him warm. You never do, so when he felt your pathetic ruts against his body he smiled. Giving you what your pretty supple body wanted this while time.

Picking you up swiftly you hold onto his wide frame, feeling him place you on his fluffy bed to then hold your legs as far apart as they can be. He spits on your little clit, thumbing it to soothe the tense feeling of his cock still inside you.

He was right. He spoiled you too much.

Ben

You both love to do it after sex

Purely because it lead to more sex.

Benny is an affectionate/touchy man when it comes to you. Your body and the softness of it always gives him a cloud 9 kinda of feeling that he refuses to let go of

“Stay.” Is all he says when he keeps you under him, his head in your breast, every once in a while licking/kissing on your bruised nipples from prior events.

As full as you already were, the way how his body caged you in, the way his hair felt in your hands, his warmth and weight. You didn’t mind it.

Sometime he will switch positions, leaving you on top and him leaning on the headboard so he can smoke, he’ll rub your nude/sweaty back to soothe you back to sleep.

However—

“Whatcha doin’?…hm?”

He felt you grind against him a little, kissing his neck, maybe it was the hint smell of your pussy in his breath, the way his fingers lingered on your ass when he rubbed you, or maybe you’re just THAT needy but—

“Wan’ more…” Your whispered, embarrassment creeped in your face realizing you both been at it since this evening and its such a late hour.

Benny smiles, bringing your chin to his mouth and shotgunning you before both of your tongues played with each other. His kisses were always so sweet, but messy.

“Use me then…” Benny laid flat on his back, one arm behind his head, “‘M all yours.”

Ben was never a man to tell you no

Shanks

You swear it’s because he is a pervert but really he loves to be close to you.

It usually never ends with sex, he can fall alseep right then and there when he plunges inside you.

It was a rough day, running around, training, stealing, you name it. It was a lot for Shanks.

You both are in your shared room, getting ready for bed after taking a quiet calm bath together, he watches you lather your body up, Damn—-you looked so good

But he was so tired, he didn’t want to ask you to ride him, it seemed selfish to use you for his own satisfaction but

He needed you.

“Sweetheart…Can…can you sleep with no panties tonight?”

Usually you would have scoffed at his offer, sounding like a pervert again but his voice was tired and his eyes were drowsy. You approach him, cupping his damp cheek and he leans in to kiss you slowly.

“Of course.”

He gave you his shirt to wear and you did, he decided to just stay in the nude.

You lay on your side, and almost immediately when shanks gets in the bed he plants his lips on yours, passionately kissing you, leaving you to moan in his mouth as he plays with your clit a little.

“So wet already…” He marvels, lifting your leg a little he shares a “fuck” with you, you’re so warm and tight, so eager to suck him inside.

You can hear his sigh of relief as he settles inside you from behind.

“Thank you baby.” He pecks your neck, you were exactly what he needed after today

He knew in the morning he’d have to thank you with his tongue.