#benn one piece x you

[sh4nksslvt]

One Month With You

In the final month of your life, you cherishes fleeting moments with your crew, hiding a terminal illness until only memories��and a letter—remain.

red hair pirates x reader | whitebeard pirates x reader | strawhats x reader | ONE SHOT tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, grief, terminal illness a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe and akward word count: 2.6k

masterlist | ko-fi

: ��🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

RED HAIR PIRATES

The sea was calm that morning, the kind of quiet that made even the waves seem to hold their breath. The deck of the Red Force was alive with chatter and light laughter, but you stood by the railing, letting the wind sweep through your hair. Your fingers curled around the wood, your gaze far off—not at the horizon, but somewhere past it.

One month. That’s what Hongo told you when he unknowingly confirmed your own suspicions. You’d been hiding the worsening symptoms for months—fatigue that sank deep into your bones, the relentless pain in your chest, the occasional blood you’d spit out into the sea, unnoticed.

You knew he’d figure it out eventually. He was too good not to.

But you hadn’t expected him to burst into your quarters the night before, shaking with barely restrained panic.

“What the hell is this?!” Hongo had yelled, thrusting a tattered medical report into your hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?!”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Because I didn’t want to be watched like a ghost who hasn’t died yet.”

Silence. Deafening.

“...You have a month, Y/N, maybe less. You’re—” His voice cracked. “You’re dying, and you're acting like it's nothing?”

“I have a month, Hongo,” you had said quietly. “Please… just let me have it. Don’t tell the others. Let me spend it with them. Please.”

He didn't answer for a long time. When he finally did, it was with a whisper: “You’re a fucking idiot.” But he pulled you into a hug and didn’t let go until your shoulders stopped shaking.

From that day, you lived more fiercely than ever. You laughed at Shanks’ dumb jokes and drank with him until the world blurred. You challenged Benn to silent stargazing contests, betting on how many shooting stars you’d catch. You dragged Limejuice to island carnivals and flirted shamelessly until his face burned red. You played cards with Hongo, even when your hands trembled too much to hold them.

They all noticed. The Red-Haired Pirates weren’t stupid.

“You’re real clingy lately,” Limejuice teased one night, bumping your shoulder with his. “You sure you’re not sick or something?”

You smiled, heart twisting. “Would you be mad if I said I might be?”

He laughed, oblivious. “Nah. I’d carry you myself if you keeled over.”

You didn’t say anything. Just leaned into his warmth.

Shanks was the hardest. He noticed too much. Noticed how often you disappeared below deck when the coughing fits hit, how your eyes stayed on the ocean longer than they should have.

“You thinking of leaving us?” he asked once, half-joking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “No,” you lied.

Benn just watched. Always watched. He didn’t say much, but you could feel his eyes lingering on you, searching. You gave him your brightest smiles.

The day you left, the crew didn’t know.

You made breakfast with Chef-level effort, joking with the kitchen staff, slipping kisses to Limejuice's cheek and hugging Shanks tighter than ever. You sat with Benn for hours on the deck, your head on his shoulder, watching the sun creep across the sky.

“I think you’re my favorite,” you whispered, teasing.

He snorted. “Don’t let Shanks hear that.”

He didn’t know that was the last time he’d feel your heartbeat against his side.

That night, you slipped away. A letter for each of them tucked under your pillow. A note for Hongo too:

"Thank you—for letting me pretend I wasn’t dying. I love you all too much to say goodbye."

Morning broke in chaos.

“Where the hell is Y/N?!” Limejuice shouted, tearing through the ship.

“They’re not in the galley, or the crow’s nest!” Benn called out, panic rising in his usually calm voice.

Shanks was quiet, unusually still, staring at the empty hammock where your scent still lingered.

The notes were found soon after. One by one, hands shaking as they read your last words.

You didn’t say goodbye, but each letter bled with love.

“To Shanks — Thank you for making me feel like I belonged in the stars.”

“To Benn — You saw through me. Thank you for not saying anything.”

“To Limejuice — Thank you for reminding me how fun life could be.”

“To Hongo — I’m sorry I made you carry this alone. Thank you for letting me be selfish.”

They thought you ran. Were taken. Benn demanded a search party. Shanks was pale, silent, gripping your letter so tight his knuckles bled. Limejuice punched a wall. Hongo said nothing—for two days.

And then, he snapped.

He threw your medical file onto the table during a heated meeting, eyes wild. “They didn’t leave!....They died. And...I let them.”

The room fell to a breathless silence.

“You knew?” Benn whispered.

“They had a month. They begged me to let them spend it with us, like nothing was wrong. And I let them lie.”

Shanks stumbled back, as if struck. “No. No, they were… they were fine.”

“They were dying, Shanks! They couldn’t breathe without pain, they were—” Hongo’s voice cracked. “They spent their last strength loving us.”

No one spoke.

Limejuice fell to his knees. “We didn’t even say goodbye.”

Later that night, Shanks sat by the railing where you always stood.

“I hope you’re watching the stars from up close now, Y/N,” he murmured, tears streaking his face. “Because we’ll never stop looking for you in them.”

WHITEBEARD PIRATES

You’d always imagined dying quietly, maybe on an empty shore, wrapped in salt and wind. But fate had other plans. Your end would come not with isolation—but surrounded by laughter, drink, and the stubborn, unbearable warmth of the Whitebeard Pirates.

The diagnosis came on a cold, cloudy day—so ordinary it felt like a betrayal.

You'd passed out during training. Woke up with Marco’s worried face looming over you. He’d examined you in complete silence. But his shaking hands and tight jaw told you everything.

“It’s not good, is it?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

“No,” Marco had said, the word cracking as it left him. “It’s... terminal. A rare degeneration of the lungs and heart. I don’t—there’s nothing I can do.”

You didn’t cry. Instead, you laughed. “So, what—you’re saying I won’t outlive my goldfish?”

He didn't laugh. He looked like he’d been stabbed. “You have a month. Maybe.”

You made him promise to keep it secret.

Just him and Whitebeard.

When Oyaji found out, he sat beside your bed and gripped your hand with those massive, shaking fingers. “You are my child,” he rumbled. “And if this is your last voyage… then let it be the greatest of your life.”

You had never cried before. But you cried then.

From that day, you threw yourself into every moment.

Ace was all fire and impulse, but when he was around you, something softer flickered beneath the surface. He took to dragging you along for sparring matches, even when you claimed your muscles ached.

“I need a challenge,” he’d smirk, sweat glistening down his neck.

“You just want to show off,” you’d tease, raising your fists anyway.

He was always careful not to hit you too hard. Not that you said anything—but he seemed to know. When you tripped one day, coughing blood into your sleeve when he wasn’t looking, he’d jogged over, helping you up without a word. His hand lingered on your arm just a second too long.

That night, you sat beside him, both of you perched on the edge of the ship with your legs dangling into the air.

“You’re weird lately,” he mumbled, eyes on the moon.

You bumped his shoulder with yours. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

He blinked at you. “To be with us?”

“To be with you,” you said, gently. And he froze, eyes wide, like he didn’t know what to do with that.

“…You’re gonna break my heart, aren’t you?” he whispered.

You smiled, because you already had.

Izo became your confidant without even knowing it. With every eyeliner flick and matching kimono, you gave yourself permission to feel alive. They would hum as they painted your face, hands warm against your cheeks.

“You’re glowing,” they said once, adjusting the red ribbon they tied in your hair.

“Death becomes me, huh?” you joked, and they slapped your arm, scandalized.

“You joke about dying too much.”

You didn’t mean to, but your voice cracked. “It’s easier than pretending I’m not scared.”

Their fingers paused, lips parting. “…Are you scared?”

You looked at them in the mirror, the shimmer of gold powder across your eyelids catching the light. “Yeah,” you said. “But not when I’m with you.”

They smiled then, a bit sad, and leaned in to kiss your temple. “Then let’s live like hell until we drop, dear.”

Thatch was joy personified. It was impossible to be sad around him for long, and that’s what made it hurt worse.

He caught you sneaking dessert at 2 a.m. once and acted like you’d committed a crime.

“Oh-ho! So this is where my pudding went!”

“Your pudding? I thought it had my name on it.”

“I’ll accept bribes in the form of kisses or cleaning dishes.”

You kissed his cheek, and he nearly dropped the bowl.

Every stolen moment in the kitchen became a memory—dancing while covered in flour, whipped cream fights, drunken baking experiments that ended in fire. You’d laughed so hard your sides hurt, even as your lungs begged you to stop.

“You’re making memories,” he said one night, tousling your hair. “That’s what this is. You’ve been clingy lately. Like you’re trying to make every second count.”

You froze, the spoon halfway to your mouth. “…Would you hate me if I was?”

He blinked. “Nah. I’d probably try to hold on tighter.”

You didn’t tell him then. Just leaned into his side and let him talk about his dream of opening a cake café after he retires.

You knew you’d never see it.

Marco was the one who saw the cracks, and it destroyed him. You kept him close because you trusted him most—and that made it hurt more.

You caught him once crying at your door. He didn’t think you were awake.

You opened it, silently wrapped your arms around him, and whispered, “I’m still here.”

“You shouldn’t be this calm,” he rasped into your shoulder.

“I’m terrified,” you admitted. “But I’d rather spend what time I have being loved than dying slowly in a bed.”

He pulled back, staring at you with reddened eyes. “You could have told them.”

“They’d look at me like I was already dead.”

He said nothing, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “Promise me… promise you’ll wait. Let me leave on my own terms.”

“…Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll hate you for it.”

You kissed his forehead. “I hope you do.”

You left them on a quiet morning.

Then you slipped away, leaving only a bundle of letters on Marco’s desk.

Your final message was simple:

“Don’t let them hate me for this. Please. Just let them think I ran.”

The ship erupted into panic by nightfall.

Ace punched through a wall. “They’re gone?! What do you mean GONE?”

Izo ran through the corridors, calling your name until their voice broke.

Thatch turned the kitchen inside out like he expected you to be hiding in the cupboards, laughing.

Marco couldn’t speak.

He stood at the rail, gripping the wood so hard it splintered beneath his fingers.

Whitebeard stood behind him, silent, his massive shadow cast across the deck like a shroud.

“Do I tell them?” Marco rasped.

“No,” Whitebeard rumbled. “Not yet. Let them rage. Let them mourn in their own way.”

“But—”

“They wouldn’t understand it now,” he said. “Wait.”

A week passed. Then two.

No sign of you.

Your room remained untouched. Your absence echoed louder than any cannon fire.

They scoured islands. Questioned strangers. Considered kidnappers, Marines, even betrayal.

Ace refused to accept it. “They wouldn’t leave us! Not without a word. Not without—something.”

He went to Marco, desperate. “You know something. Tell me.”

Marco finally broke.

He gave Ace your letter.

Ace read it once. Then again and again. Then crumpled to the ground, screaming into his fists.

“They died?! All this time—they were dying?!”

Marco stood frozen, guilt crawling like acid beneath his skin.

“They didn’t want you to mourn them before they were gone,” he whispered. “They wanted to be loved, not pitied.”

Ace couldn’t answer. He just sobbed, curled around your crumpled letter like it could still warm him.

That night, Whitebeard gathered his sons and daughters.

He read your letters aloud. One by one. Each one aching with truth, memory, and love.

“To Ace — You made me feel alive, even when I was already halfway gone.” “To Izo — Thank you for making me beautiful when I felt invisible.” “To Thatch — You made every day sweeter, even the ones I didn’t think I’d survive.” “To Marco — Thank you for holding my secret when it crushed you. I love you most for that.” “To Oyaji — You gave me a family when I had nothing left. Thank you… for letting me die a Whitebeard Pirate.”

By the end, the deck was silent.

No sobs. Just breathless grief.

They didn’t throw a funeral.

They held a feast.

Not because they weren’t mourning—but because they knew you’d hate to see them broken.

They told stories. Passed your favorite drink around. Laughed, cried, and danced with ghosts.

And when the fire died down, Ace stared at the embers and whispered, “I hope you found peace, flame-heart.”

STRAWHAT PIRATES

You didn’t plan on dying at sea, but the Grand Line has a way of making plans for you. The first signs were subtle: a lingering fatigue you chalked up to busy days, aches you blamed on training, the dull pain in your side that you laughed off when Chopper asked if you were okay.

You knew before he did. Deep down, your body had been whispering the truth long before the words made it onto paper.

It wasn’t until you collapsed in the hallway between the kitchen and the infirmary that Chopper realized something was seriously wrong. When you woke up, it was to the sterile smell of the medical bay and his wide, terrified eyes.

“I ran every test,” he said, voice trembling. “And then I ran them again. It’s… it’s bad. Really bad.”

You nodded. Your throat was too dry to answer.

“I—I can’t fix it. Not with what we have on board. Maybe if we got to a major medical port, but even then, I don’t know if—”

You reached out, resting a hand on his tiny shoulder. “How long?”

He hesitated, ears flattening. “A month. Maybe.”

You didn’t cry. Not then. Not even when he begged to tell the others.

“No. Please. Let me have this. Just a month, Chopper.”

“They’ll never forgive me.”

“They will,” you said. “If they knew now, it’d ruin everything. I don’t want pity. I want memories.”

So you began to live. Fully, recklessly, as if the pain eating away at you was just a shadow at your back.

You started with Sanji. He was the easiest to be around, the one whose affection was loud and constant. Every meal became a moment: you insisted on helping in the kitchen, even when he protested. You chopped vegetables until your hands hurt, stirred sauces while leaning against him, snuck little bites when he wasn’t looking.

“You’re here a lot lately,” he said one afternoon, handing you a bowl of soup.

“I like watching you work,” you replied.

He grinned. “You trying to steal my heart, love?”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Maybe.”

He went quiet for a beat. Then, more softly, “You look at me like you’re memorizing my face.”

You didn’t answer. Just smiled.

Zoro came next. You sparred with him almost every day now, ignoring the way your lungs burned, the way your legs shook. He didn’t say anything the first time you collapsed mid-match, just silently carried you to the infirmary.

“You’re pushing too hard,” he said.

“I need to,” you whispered.

“Why?”

You looked at him, really looked. “Because I don’t want to forget what it feels like to fight beside you.”

He frowned. “You’re acting like you’re running out of time.”

You forced a smile. “Aren’t we all?”

That night, he found you on the deck, staring at the stars.

He sat beside you, arms crossed. “You’re not saying something. I don’t like it.”

“I’m just tired.”

“I’d carry you, if you asked.”

Your heart ached. “I know.”

Luffy was harder.

He didn’t notice at first. You were careful around him—too careful. You laughed with him during meals, ran across islands with him, challenged him to stupid games on the deck. But he began to notice the way you lingered during hugs. The way you stared at him too long. The way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes.

One evening, you lay beside him on the figurehead, watching the horizon.

He turned his head toward you. “Are you gonna leave?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You look like you’re saying goodbye.”

You looked away. “I’m not. Not yet.”

He was quiet for a while. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to either.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and didn’t let go until you both fell asleep.

ou made time for everyone else too.

With Nami, you spent lazy afternoons in the library, pretending to study charts. She taught you how to draw maps. You traced the oceans of the world with your fingers and imagined places you’d never see.

“You’re getting good at this,” she said.

“I want to leave something behind,” you murmured.

She didn’t understand then. But she would.

Usopp was a light in the dark. You asked for bedtime stories, exaggerated tales of heroism and romance. He performed them with full sound effects, arms flailing, voice booming.

“You always laugh now,” he noted one night.

“It’s easy, when I’m with you.”

He blushed, scratching the back of his head. “You’re acting like I’m the best part of your day.”

You smiled. “You are.”

Robin gave you quiet comfort. She didn’t ask questions. She simply read to you, let you rest your head in her lap, brushed your hair back from your face.

“You’re calm,” you told her.

“You’re storming,” she replied.

You didn’t deny it.

Franky built you a swing on the back of the Sunny, facing the sea. You spent hours there, feet brushing over the waves, eyes on the endless blue.

“Super chill, right?” he said, adjusting the ropes.

You nodded. “It’s perfect.”

He caught your hand before he left. “You’re not okay.”

You looked up at him. “No.”

“Okay,” he said, voice tight. “You don’t have to be.”

Brook played lullabies for you. Sweet, simple things. You danced with him once, slow and clumsy.

“If I still had a heart,” he said softly, “I think it would ache.”

You rested your head against his chest. “Mine already does.”

Chopper was breaking. Every day, he looked at you like you were already fading. You caught him crying in the storage room once, holding one of your jackets.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, hugging him.

“I hate lying.”

“I know.”

You waited until they docked at a small island for supplies.

You left at dawn.

Left behind the stargazer chair. The flowered book. The slingshot. The meals. The love.

Left behind a stack of letters in Chopper’s room.

When the crew realized you were gone, Luffy panicked first.

“They wouldn’t leave! They’d never leave!”

Zoro was already on the dock, scanning the shoreline. Sanji lit a cigarette with shaking fingers.

They searched the island. They waited at the ship. They called for you until their voices cracked.

You didn’t come back.

That night, Chopper gathered them in the infirmary.

“I didn’t want to break the promise,” he said, voice trembling. “But… they’re gone. They were dying.”

No one moved.

“…What?”

“They only had a month. They asked me to let them live… without pity.”

Nami burst into tears. "They should’ve told us,”

Zoro punched the wall.

Luffy stood in stunned silence, until he screamed your name into the ocean wind.

They read your letters together. All huddled in the infirmary, hearts shattered.

“To Sanji — You made me feel wanted, even when I felt like a ghost.” “To Zoro — You were my anchor. I always knew where I stood when I was beside you.” “To Luffy — Thank you for being the sun. I needed the light more than you’ll ever know.” “To the Crew — You made me part of a family. You made me more than a dying story.”

They held a quiet vigil on the deck.

Brook played your song one last time. Robin scattered petals into the sea. Chopper lit a lantern and let it drift across the water.

They stayed on that island for days.

Then, they sailed forward—quieter, heavier—but with your memory in their hearts.

You were their nakama.

You were their heart.

You always would be.

[worstgenerationloser]

Could you please do ace, shanks and benn defending their f s/o from a misogynistic man? I had to face one at work and he gave me the absolute ICK

,, Rushing to your aid! ''

Ace, Shanks, and Beckman x F! Reader.

Summary... how would your boyfriend defend you from a misogynistic man?

Contains... misogyny, mentions of harassment, depictions of bloody violence, and some slight fluff!

A/N: IM SORRY YOU HAD TO DEAL WITH THAT ANON💕 I hope since you sent in this ask the men have left you alone! If not I'll ward them away myself!! 🤺🤺

Portgas D. Ace

Ace doesn't register it completely, so at first he's confused on why this man is talking to you as if you were a baby (mostly because he's a dumbass)

Now, even if he wasn't aware the man was being misogynistic at first, he's still rushing towards you because there's literally a weird man talking to you the way you would to a little kid, and you definitely looked angry enough to tear off his head.

"Woah, what's happening here?" Instinctively and natural as breathing, his arm slips around your shoulders and his fingers move to gently graze your arm in an attempt to console you.

He doesn't like showing his temper much, but when people precious to him are involved, his angry heart bursts into flames. When the man speaks, his jaw drops out of pure disbelief. According to him, he was mansplaining how pirates operate to you. Which is weird, because Ace knows that you're definitely well versed in pirates... Considering you're his girlfriend.

He wanted to diffuse the situation, but it seems like this random needed a reality check.

"Hm... Good to know, but I'm sure it's irrelevant to her." His smile is wide and joyous, but the ominous shadow looming over his face is anything but.

"But she's clueless!", the man rambles on and bumbles about like a headless chicken, before he turns back to get one good look at Ace. Then it clicks in his pea-sized brain that maybe you know a bit more about pirates than him.

Ace looks a little scary when he's mad, you discover . But mostly cute.

"My girlfriend doesn't need to explain her knowledge to some random asshole who couldn't make a lasting impact on her life if he tried, you're way below her, buddy."

With gritted teeth, Ace tries to not light fire to the whole town, but only you seem to notice his body is literally smoking hot.

According to Ace, the guy ran a little too slow, and that's how he ended up naked covered in burn marks! The marines didn't believe him, though, and you two were left to flee.

"Can you believe the balls on that guy? It's not like you're unknown, either. Portgas D. Ace's kickass girlfriend! It's got a nice ring to it, eh?"

He nudges you a little too hard and sends you flying into a bush, but you appreciate the cute moments with him no matter how brief.

Red-Haired Shanks

Shanks learned many things during his time in the Roger Pirates, but one thing really stuck with him throughout the years. He can tolerate being spat on and kicked around, if his crew sees it as a threat then he's not gonna stop them from doing whatever it is they're planning, but he's not gonna ask them to go out of their way to deal with it.

But when someone disrespects his crew, and especially you?

Oh, he's pissed.

You think he doesn't realize at first, but he's keeping a very close eye on you two. He tries to keep his ass planted firmly into his chair per Beckman's request. Beckman is the mature one, and he's almost never wrong in the astute observations he makes. Despite this, Shanks has no self control and he's lobbing himself towards the bar where you sit.

Beckman shakes his head disapprovingly at his captain, because unlike him, Beck knows you can handle yourself.

The man in question harassing you seems to be a small time criminal with a bounty of 50,000... That doesn't deter Shanks, it might have egged him on even more because who does he think he is harassing you?

By the time Shanks has made his way to you, your harasser seems to have taken it upon himself to demean you for your appearance, pulling out all the classics like "bitch" "whore" , and "slut" to name a few. Shanks, of course, finds absolutely no amusement in this. I'm sure you can guess what happened next.

Your harasser tries to argue and degrade you a little more when Shanks steps up, not realizing how silent the bar has suddenly become. He didn't even realize the hundreds of eyes disappearing from him, not wanting to watch things unfold.

"You're drunk, I'll give you that one." Shanks barks out a laugh like he finds it funny, but up close you can see that gleam in his eyes.

Well... it's not like you could stop him anyways.

But you really wish he left the bar standing, at least. It certainly isn't doing good for his reputation as an emperor of the seas.

When Beckman scolds him as if he were a child on deck, he laughs like he'll forget about it in a day or two. But everyone knows Shanks will be doing it all over again in a heartbeat. He holds you extra close that night, trying to make sure your heart isn't tainted by the venomous words spat.

"I don't want anybody, big name or small, disrespecting people I hold dear to me."

His words are sweet while he whispers to you in bed... he's an odd man, but he's yours.

Benn Beckman

Two words. Broken. Bones.

Beckman does not play around with his girl, at all. He'll bash in heads day and night if someone even looks at you the wrong way, but he restrains himself because he's not a jealous young man anymore, so he likes to think.

Regarding everything else, he's cool as a cucumber, he prefers to let things wash over by themselves and only offers advice if he senses things will go astray. (as previously mentioned)

You're his girl, and a damn beautiful one, so he isn't surprised when some people try and scope you out, the same happens to him with many women, so why be so hypocritical about it? His heart is locked inside of yours for the rest of his life whether you want him or not, so he knows you won't run off with another no matter how much Shanks jokes about it.

If they're a little persistent, he might walk up to you and give you a few kisses so they get the message. But this man was definitely not "a little persistent."

Beck doesn't have a second to think of what he should do when he hears the utterances of vile comments slip from this man's mouth after you turned him down, because he's already right next to you quicker than his own head can wrap around. He's big, tall and scary, enough so to make someone shake with just a look.

"A grown man like yourself should know that ain't no way to talk to a lady." His voice is low, and he's talking nice and slow for your harassers ears only.

Beck heard it all, him hitting on you in an unceremonious way, all the way to demeaning you when you rejected him, spouting the same chewed up rhetoric that is "women are only good for bearing children" and whatnot. He can't let that pass no matter how capable you may be of handling it yourself.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" The man's words were proven to be a bad move before his lips could rest against eachother.

Following that, there was quite a sight. Somehow Beckman managed to twist the poor guy into some kind of abstract form of art, all bloody and fucked up with no more teeth left.

And of course he ushered you away after wiping his hands clean enough for you, because he's a gentleman, he didn't do it for himself, it was for you!

"M'sorry you had to see that, sugar." His whispers fill your head while he has you resting your head on his chest hours later, a few giggles coming from outside your bedroom door. Guess who?

"You know I won't let nobody disrespect you like that. You aren't mad, are you baby?" Beckman is a real sweet talker, so it's not like you could be even if you tried.

Plus, he looks super hot fighting.

END.

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated! ❤️If possible, leave a comment too!

[lehguru]

I WOULD KILL FOR YOU + ONE PIECE MEN

their reaction to you asking them "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"+ portgas d.ace, sabo, marco, dracule mihawk and benn beckman

info: this was a request! i loved receiving this sooooo much! i hope you have reading this as much as i had fun writing! tw mentions of murder (duh) and a bit of alcohol || comms/ko-fi + b-day raffle (open till the 15th!)

ace looked at you as if you hung the sun in the sky. you touched his freckled face, your thumb softly touching his cheekbone. with a tremble on your lips, you murmured: "do you think you'll kill for me one day?". his dark eyes went wide, but then he smirked. he placed his hand on top of yours against his cheek, kissing your palm softly. "if i have to," he whispered against your skin, almost as if he wanted to tattoo his love against it's surface. "i will. no hesitation." before you could even process his words, his lips pressed against yours and he picked you up, twirling you around while you giggled.

sabo laid against your thighs. his golden hair was messy, giving him the appearance of an angel—while you played with his locks, you asked him, shyness slipping into your words. "do you think you'll kill for me one day?" in a heartbeat, he answered you "i already did." he opened his eyes, a blue iris almost piercing through you. "i want you to be in a free world, without having to worry about anything. so yes, i did kill for you and i'll do it all over again." a shaky laugh left your lips and you shook your head, his soft smile intoxicating you.

you were meaning to ask marco something, but you felt nervous to do it. he quickly caught on your behavior and, one day, he placed one hand on your waist. "what is bothering you, love?" he said and you looked up at him. "do you think you'll kill for me one day?" you blurted out so quickly, surprising yourself and marco. he tried to act composed, hugging you against his chest and reassuring you that he wouldn't do such a extreme thing—but he would; marco would kill for you in the blink of an eye if it meant you could stay there, holding him in your arms and brightening up his day with your laugh.

mihawk sipped on a glass of wine, reading a book like he always did before bed; the candle lights illuminated his features perfectly. as you stared at his side profile, a question appeared in your mind. "do you think you'll kill for me one day?" he gave you a quick look, then turned to focus on his book once again, twirling masterfully the wine inside the glass. "do you think i'll need to kill for you one day?" you chuckled, murmuring a 'i hope not'. he gave you a soft smile, he always saved his smiles for you, and exhaled. he would definitely do that for you; but he doesn't want you to know.

beckman rubbed your lower back. you traced patterns on his chest with your fingertip, the peppermint hairs that were all over it getting messy with your action. in the intimacy of that moment, you felt comfortable enough to murmur a question. "do you think you'll kill for me one day?" a laughter made his chest rumble and he placed his chin on top of your head, bringing you closer. "maybe. would you like that, hm?" you chuckled, slapping his chest softly. as his hard and strong arms wrapped around you, you felt the safest you've been in your entire life—deep down, you knew you didn't have to worry about anything.

2025 © content belongs to lehguru, do not repost, translate or feed it into ai without permission

[kaivenom]

Hii, may I ask One piece dilf first reaction to having a wet dream about you? If it's not a problem could you include Benn Beckamn in this one?

Thanks

OP Dilfs reaction to having a wet dream about you

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks, Benn Beckman

A/N: this is pre-relationship.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He is perplexed, how can he have so little control over himself?

He refuses to jerk off but somehow he still rubs himself a little to feel some relief, and that makes him feel even more like an animal.

All day he feels like he is on a cloud, and if he has a sichibukai meeting, everyone notices it.

It's like he is there but his mind is somewhere else... obviously nobody know but his mind is on his dream about pounding you so hard that he could split your cunt open with your legs over his shoulders.

Worse if you are on the meeting, cause his gaze would accidentally follow you.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He wakes up with a moan that turns into a laugh.

He feels like the most mischiveous bastard ever and he is enjoying it.

He jerks off himself and gets thru the day as ussual, but everyone notices just how he is more smiley and flirtatious.

He keeps himself close to you all day, with a little to much physical contact.

You just think he is doing jokes on you, that today is the day that you have to put up with him and his temper.

But in reality he is trying to make you see how much he wants you, he tries to make you notice his boner and in some delusional way express affection towards you.

Sr. Crocodile

He is in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

He doesn't do anything about the boner and expects it to go soft with time.

He tries to keep his day as normal as he could but the images of you are just getting back.

He sees you on the office and inmediatly fantasize about you riding him on the office chair.

There is a period of time in his office when he is just looking at the ceiling and imagine you entering and getting on the desk ready for him.

That's why he hates dreaming about you, cause then the desire and the longing is to much to handle.

Smoker

He goes to the shower and tries to forget it, but he couldn't forget and his dick is going up and down all day.

He becomes really clumsy all day, to the point were even his subordinates tell him to stay on his chambers/office.

Very conveniently, he gets the clumsier when you are around.

Tripping over his feet, hitting his face against a door or wall, falling due to not seeing the final step on the stair, and more.

He ends up getting on the nursery and rest there a couple of hours.

Then he couldn't help it anymore and starts to slowly and painfully stroke himself, feeling a little guilty but also full of lust.

Akagami Shanks

He jerks off and then tries to rub it off by being the most comical men in the world.

You don't even know what happened but you can just confirm that Shanks will be glued to you all day and he would be all his comedian ass for the day.

Thru the day Shanks try to bury the memory of your ass from behind taking him in four by making new memories more impactful.

But he isn't really good at it cause his intentions show up unconsciously.

Awkard flirting and sexy jokes all day that are little hints.

Benn Beckmann

He smokes more than ussual.

He is so stunned and bervous about the dream that he needs to lit a cigarrette up just to calm his nerves.

He sees you and he tries to ignore you but at the same time he salivates for you, a little to obvious.

He checks you out all day, everywhere and even more when you are talking to another person.

You try to get close to him for anything and he is just standing there completely still.

You assume is just a bad mood day for him, but he is trying to hide his boner from you and trying not to take you on his lap.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Series Masterlist

Word Count: total 2,600+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. NSFW, mdni, 18+

Themes: Red Hair Pirates, gn!afab!reader, wet dreams, same reader different ending, Shanks, Beckman, Hongo, mdni, NSFW, smut, 18+

Notes: Happy birthday @loganwritesprobably! I wanted to give you some Beckman for your birthday, but he's always got his crew with him. I hope you enjoy this edition for the series!

“Ah, ah, ah,” his voice rasped out, slowly drawing his hand to hold the base of your neck, coaxing your head further down his shaft as your lips formed a perfect ring around him, “All the way. There you go.” He felt his mushroomed tip press at the back of your throat, head lulling back as he gave over to the pleasure you invoked by swallowing around him.

Bobbing your head up and down, he peeked out of the corner of his eye the position he had you in. Laying over his lap, completely bare as you knelt by his right thigh, forearms pinned beneath his legs and lips wrapped around his cock. He had effectively had you trapped in position, cunt leaking while he coaxed you down to make a mess of his cock with your mouth.

As he felt you come up for a reprive if air, he stroked along your spine towards your ass. Back arched in a perfect bow as you swirled your tongue over his tip, he drew down his hand in a firm clap against your left ass cheek. Yelping out, you again began bobbing your head up and down to pump his shaft with your lips. Pressing your thighs together, your hands twitched beneath his thighs as you rocked against the hand on your ass in a bid to get him to touch you.

“Oh,” he chuckled, leaning down and taking a glimpse of your cunt pulsing around nothing, “Oh, you want me to touch you, huh?” He drew his hand over the round of your ass, soothing the skin before raising it and striking it down once more. “Show me how much you want my touch.”

Immediately, you coughed and spluttered around his cock as you messily slurped at a rapid pace. Tears began to sting in your eyes from your gag reflex reacting, whining and vibrating your throat around his shaft while you held onto the underside of his thigh to anchor yourself further against him. Loud, messy, and sloppy motions against his cock had groans rolling freely from his lips. He thrust up in time with your motions, dipping his hand between your folds and gathering the slick at your entrance.

“That's good,” he praised you, slowly sinking in his middle finger past the first notch of his knuckle, “Doing such a good job for me.” He sunk his finger past the second notch, turning it within you gently while groaning out at the heat. Easily sliding in a second finger beside it, he spread your pussy apart with his index finger and pinky, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit each time you bobbed down on his cock.

You whined around his shaft, gulping around his cock and eagerly continuing your rapid pace. He could feel the flutters of your cunt sucking him in, causing his own release to teeter on the edge. The slick sounds of your silky pussy sucking in his hand harmonized alongside the crude squelching of your mouth meeting his pubic hair on every down stroke. Each motion caused him to feel more at the precipice of euphoria.

His balls sucked up into his guts, feeling his stomach bind in a harsh knot. He increased the amount of pressure to your clit, tapping and swirling it in a harsh rapidity as your flutters got more frantic.

“You better not waste a drop,” he warned you, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as his cock began to dribble beads of sticky precum into your throat, “Swallow it. Ngghm, fuck-!”

As his eyes opened, he was met with the sight of his cabin roof. Laying flat on his back, no sight of you to behold. A dream, a facade, an illusion of your body causing him the pleasure in fantasy as his body reacted in reality.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-!” he immediately flung his blankets off his lap and gathered the closest discarded shirt or scrap of material he could. His cock began twitching, his untouched eruption coming into full fruition as he exploded in ecstasy. Hot spurts of cum shot into the air before he managed to catch it in a piece of material, sticking to his stomach and dripping down his shaft to pool beneath him.

His cock danced in rhythmic bursts, still clinging onto the falsified memory within his mind as each viscous rope shot out from the smaller slit. Slumping back on his pillow, he scrunched his eyes tightly shut, uttering a single word.

“Fuck.”

Red Haired Shanks

Glancing down at his shaft bobbing and twitching, the final spurts of his release bubbling past the tip and catching on his crotch, he couldn't help but laugh at himself.

A wet dream? Something as juvenile as a wet dream? And about you, of all the people he could've dominated: you. The thoughts swirl on in his mind, replaying his favorite moments in his head on a loop while his cock twitches in interest.

His spirits were as high as they had ever been while laughing at his own mess. Drawing up his shirt from the floor he desperately reached for earlier, he mopped himself up and discarded the shirt beside him in his wicker hamper. Laying on his back, he fixed his eyes on the roof of the red force while he grinned to himself.

A spectral visit from the Red Force’s chronicler: charged for keeping the crew on their routine, and exceptionally good at doing as such, was granted to him this night. The dance you played for him was a perfect reflection to how he would have you if given the opportunity. You were someone he had his good and bad eye on for some time, and now his mind had began to play tricks on him in his desperation for you.

Rolling over in his bed, he considered his options from this point on. He could simply walk up to you at the breakfast table and give you a play by play about it, sparing no detail and watching if your eyes go wide and sparkle with interest. He could keep the image to himself, using it when he needed a little bit of focus to tip over the edge without a playmate in his quarters, singing sweet praises of your name into his shoulder while he cums. Or he could put the image out of his mind entirely, forget it ever happened and attempt to move on.

“Sh-Shanks-!” your muffled voice echoed alongside the sloppy noises of your head bobbing up and down his shaft, “Shanks I'm gonna-!”

The red haired pirate immediately rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow as his hand began to snake down his happy trail to his already hardening cock. The flushed tip still dribbled with the memory of his overnight visitor: you in your glory with your lips muffling out incomprehensible babbles while greedily slurping on his cock. Picturing this new one with your cheek flush with his, hot breath on his neck, whining and keening through your bliss while your pussy pulses with the rhythmic contractions of your ecstasy-.

“-Oh, stars,” Shanks whispered out in a breathy exhale as a smaller release erupted over his palm and trickled down his fingertips. Pleasure shot through his abdomen and twitching his cock as he pumped himself through the waves of euphoria rising throughout his body. Panting and rolling over onto his side, he reached for a towel and drew it down to the mess currently spreading to pool beneath him.

Shanks let out a small chuckle before sighed remorsefully. With a deep furrow in his brows, he began to immediately chastise himself for using you as the masterpiece within his mind's eye. He began cleaning over his shaft and down to his balls with the towel, all the while swearing a solemn promise in every motion.

“I'll make it up to you,” he whispered, gently speaking your name while he cleaned, “I'll make it up to you. I swear.”

Benn Beckman

Immediately, Beckman flung himself from his bed feeling violated by his thoughts. A cruel shudder rang through his body with those final moments ricocheting over his every pore. Sweat beaded at his temple as he looked at his bed as if it was made from flame and stinging needles as opposed to his cabin quarters.

“No,” he shook his head at the intrusive thoughts and fought them off, “No. Not you. Not like this.” He fought with his inner turmoil at the thought before strengthening his resolve and moving towards the door.

Scurrying with his sleep trousers flooding down his leg, a fresh pair flung over his shoulder with a towel, and a deepening grimace over his face, he made haste towards the crew bathroom and flung open the door. A trio of stalls for privacy between crewmates with wooden doors latching was on the leftmost corner, and to the rear was a large ovular bath able to comfortably seat five at once. The Red Force was a comfortable ship made for sailing at long lengths between ports, and the bathroom was one such luxury.

As Benn Beckman stepped into a booth, the shower beside his switched on and began to flood the room with steam. A small hum fled the lips of his shower-mate, immediately causing crescent shaped welts to form in Beckman’s palms by how hard his grip was forming.

“Chronicler,” Beckman gently rasped out with a small amount of laziness found in his tone. Your hum halted while you cheerily chirped out your greeting to him in return.

“First-Mate,” you retorted in the same manner, “And here I thought I'd have the bathroom to myself for once at this hour.” Beckman chuckled at your small aire of disappointment, only succeeding in raising a laugh of your own beside him.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

That question halted his reach for his pants as he dragged the hem over his hips and down his Adonis belt. With stuttering fingers, he hastily freed himself of the cotton material before kicking them to the edge of the booth and stepping beneath the warming water. Quickly dampening his face with the rapid flurry of water, Beckman rinsed his cotton-mouth from slumber and replied back.

“You could say that, yeah,” his voice crooned with the languid drawl of the morning, “Just not been sleepin’ as good as the rest.”

“I get it,” you admit as a few pumps and squirts from the bottle beside you fell into your hands, “We've been at sea for a while. All the faces, the same. The sea, the same. The food, unfortunately, the same. Roux tries his best to keep it interesting, but ‘brown stew’ can only be eaten so many times before my brain starts to fry.” The scent of orange peel and licorice wafted from the stand beside him, immediately swelling the mind of Benn Beckman.

He found his mind falling back into the fantasy his mind concocted of you eagerly sucking on his cock while he teased and spanked your ass, fingers slipping into your pussy and drawing out those choked sputters while he had you at his mercy. The feeling of your lips on his skin, the caress of your plush heat in his hand, the warmth of your throat taking him in-.

-He peered down at his hand, moving against his will and pumping along his cock while the other caressed his broad chest to pinch at his nipples. Shaking his head frantically, he removed his hands as if his body had burnt him and immediately stepped beneath the water. Rinsing his hair, his face, his ears, his body, he couldn't hear what you said clearly from the stall beside him.

“Sorry, head was under,” Beckman apologized with honesty, “Mind repeatin’ that?”

“I said, Benn Beckman, and please don't tell the others this,” you pleaded with a small chuckle, “I think we've all got cabin fever. I had the weirdest dream that I was fucking some crew members, and we all know that I absolutely wouldn't do that.” Beckman's hands halted their wash as you continued, “I think my mind has run away with me, using what's around me to create some kind of plot to keep it interesting. Just a bit crap that I'm left high and dry in the morning, is all.”

Taking a few moments pause to contemplate exactly what you were informing him, he inhaled before releasing an exhale with a groan hinted on his breath.

“It’s not my place to judge anyone on what shapes their dreams take,” Beckman nodded honestly while leaning against the adjoining wall where you were beside him, “And I get it. It's all the same at the moment. Next port is in a couple more weeks, we just gotta keep strong until then.”

“Aye, sir,” you uttered softly. The tap creaked off in the shower beside him at the same time Beckman did the same. As you both stepped out into the tiled hall, you both looked at the bath before looking at each other. In the silence, Beckman shook his head before looking at his toes sheepishly. Raising his head, he met your eyes with his own while both reaching the same conclusion.

“Do you want to have a bath together-?”

“-Just to keep things interesting?”

Both of you burst out into laughter before moving to the large bath. Removing your towels and stepping into the water, you and Beckman enjoyed swapping stories to break the routine of the norm, dreams but a whisper in the fictitious wind fleeing in every moment spent beside one another.

Hongo

All through his routine, his face did not change from a deep scowl mixing with complete and utter confusion. Waking himself fully up, in the shower room, at the breakfast table, in his office, back to the mess hall, taking the watch shift in the crows nest: the scowl never left his face as all thoughts eclipsed him of the night prior.

“A wet dream?” He asked himself, offended while looking down at his waistband, “I had a fucking wet dream?” He spat in disdain as his verbalised recollection fled through his mind.

Imagery began to roll from his body of the motions your spectral form made against his, halting as soon as he heard your tangible laugh below by the ropes. The smile he fictitiously fucked with his throat in his mind's eye was gracing the presence of Building Snake as he joked with you. Glancing over his glasses, Building Snake gave you a gentle shove and took the ropes from your hands in a bid to remove you if your duties for the day. Just as Hongo tried to glance away, you caught his eye from your position down below.

“Oi, doctor! Need a hand on watch?” You yelled with your hand cupping the left-hand side of your mouth, “Building Snake’s taking over deck duty, so I'm free.” Hongo shook his head as he found his smile slowly creeping up his cheek.

“You're free because you're overworked, chronicler,” Hongo mirrored your sentiment with his own hand curving around the edge of his lips, “Go to bed, read a book or something.” When he met your eyes once more, he saw that fire that meant for nothing but trouble as you took ahold of the ropes margining the top mast. Slowly beginning your climb, he scooched aside to make room beside him as your head popped through the latch.

“Shove,” you nodded your head towards the doctor, “I'm just-.”

“-Trying to do anything except go to sleep, I know the feeling,” Hongo closed his eyes and shook his head. Turning his chin onto the horizon, he reopened his eyes and looked out onto the open sea, “I know the feeling, intimately.” Now drawn beside him, you both took an elongated inhale and released a heavy exhale in unison.

“Rough night?” Your voice drew him away from his thoughts and to your side. Hazel eyes found your form, trying as they might to not see the position they placed you in last night in lieu of you before them. Hongo shook his head and upticked his forlorn smile.

“Just hanging on ‘til we get to port, is all. It's been… it's just been…”

Moving closer to him, you nudge his shoulder with your own and draw into a more familial and comfortable position. As you braced his body with your own, he leaned back into your touch and sighed out while watching the sea in its repetitive stasis. Friendship and comradery was the foremost rapport between you and the crew. Hongo was no different, and simply dwelling beside the doctor and offering him support in the ways you know how came naturally to offer him that friendship you had together.

“Next port, doc,” you nodded beside him, “First round is on me. I feel like we just need it after the time we've spent at sea.”

“The one thereafter is mine,” Hongo continued to train his steely eyes on the ocean, picturing the way he held you on his lap in his mind's eye and how natural it truly felt to hold you by his side like this, and nodded with a more genuine smile drawing to his features. “We'll need it, I think. Lots of electrolytes and water through the night, but absolutely a drink or two.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @mermaniaa @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[jintaka-hane]

Sit Down

Masterlist

Summary: Benn Beckman carries too much on his shoulders. The situation on board is a mess, and the weight of the stress is making it harder for him to sleep at night. As your first mate and friend, it pains you to see him so exhausted. So, when things become unbearable, you offer a drastic solution—something he’ll hesitantly end up accepting. Word count: 4900 Notes: MDNI, + 18, NSFW, xf!reader, smut, oral (Beck receiving), fingering (f!reader receiving), friends to lovers, let me take care of you thing, fluffy end, needy Beck, a lot of pet names used (darlin', doll, princess, pretty) Self indulgent? This? Nah Warning: All my stories are written entirely in Spanish and then translated into English, so I apologize for any mistakes I might make.

Clink-Crassssh!! 

The coffee pot smashed to pieces onto the wooden floor, spraying shards of glass and coffee across the mess hall. You jumped from the loud noise, almost falling off the stool, and after sharing confused looks with Roux and Hongo, your heads snapped to the side where the crash came from.

Before you stood the sad figure of Benn Beckman crouched on the floor, muttering curses as his trembling hands hurried to clean up the mess. His hair looked more disheveled than usual, his lips pursed in a tight line beneath an unshaped beard, and his usually bright eyes seemed dull, framed by deep, dark shadows.

"Becks?" You immediately set your drink down and stood up from your seat, rushing to help him.

“Ain’t gotta, darlin'...” he said in a rough, worn-out voice. "I got this."

Shaking your head, you knelt beside him and poured a clean rag into the spilled coffe. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched his fingers clumsily gather pieces of the shattered pot, his movements so slow and unsteady that you worried he might hurt himself. You tried to push the glass shards away from his hands, but when he stubbornly kept picking them up, you placed your hand over his.

"Becks, Stop. I’ll handle it..." 

"No," the bulky man muttered, giving a small tug to free his hand in such a rushed and clumsy way that it struck the edge of a sharp shard, causing him to wince as his skin split open with a jagged cut.

"Becks!" You grabbed his wrist firmly. "Would you just stop?!"

Beckman sighed heavily and, for once, complied. As blood began to bead along the cut, Hongo rushed to assist him, crouching down to help you lift him to his feet.

“It’s not bad,” the doctor said, focusing on the wound and pressing gently around the edges to ensure no glass remained. “Just needs cleaning and a bandage.”

"I got it," you said immediately.

Hongo raised an eyebrow at your quick response and ran a hand over his shaved neck to asses the situation.

For once, someone from the crew was offering to help, and he wouldn’t be the one to refuse. He gave you a short nod, and that gesture was all you needed to grab the big, wall-of-a-man first mate by the arm, and practically drag him out of the mess hall, marching down the corridor as he grumbled the whole way.

“Darlin’, I’ve got plenty of things to do…”

You grunted. Of course he had things to do. He always had things to do. And that was exactly the problem.

"... and if you're taking me to bed," he continued stubbornly, "it's not gonna work..."

You huffed and without replying, kept striding down the corridor, your fingers digging into his forearm like claws.

We'll see about that …

**********

You weren't exactly having the best time on the Red Force.

The captain was confined to his cabin, bedridden and unable to make decisions. He had caught something nasty on the last island and was under strict orders to rest, spending his days grumbling and complaining like the terrible patient he was.

Roux and Hongo weren’t faring much better. With food and medical supplies running dangerously low, the cook was growing increasingly dramatic, threatening to serve boiled underwear soup. The doctor prowled the ship’s corners, muttering to everyone that he’d soon be operating without anesthesia.

The ship herself was in no condition to help. The sails were in desperate need of patching, the masts needed reinforcement, and the cannons kept jamming at the worst moments. And to make matters worse, you were trapped in a dead calm. With the ship completely immobilized in the open sea, resupplying or seeking help was impossible, and the weather forecast offered no hope of change anytime soon.

Everything was a mess and completely out of control. And naturally, all the responsibility, worry, and pressure landed squarely on the shoulders of the ever-capable and vigilant co-captain.

But the weight of it all was beginning to take its toll.

His body rebelled, depriving him of the restorative sleep he so desperately needed. And with each passing night, the insomnia only worsened, making the once steadfast first mate slowly turn into a tired, miserable shadow of his former self.

**********

"Go inside," you opened the door to Beckman’s cabin and gave the sturdy man a gentle nudge on his back.

The moment you stepped inside, a sharp smell of tobacco assaulted your nose. Your eyes darted around the room, quickly taking in its sorry state.

The bed was unmade, with rumpled sheets and clothes scattered across the mattress. In front of a worn, cushioned armchair, his desk looked disheveled, cluttered with a mountain of papers, maps and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. On the nightstand, a half-empty glass of whiskey sat next to a small box of sleeping pills.

A sigh slipped from your lips.

You’d always heard that a person’s cabin was a window into their mind. The sight before you was more revealing than any words could be.

Your attention shifted back to Beckman, who stood frozen in the center of the room. His injured hand was raised and curled into a fist.

"Sit down," you ordered, stepping closer and looking up at him, voice steady as you motioned toward the armchair. 

Beckman opened his mouth to protest, but before he could articulate a word you placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back and guiding him toward the chair.

"Sit down," you repeated in the most authoritative tone you could muster. 

Becks chuckled but complied, sinking into the cushioned armchair with his full weight. 

“Bandages and antiseptic?” You crouched down to meet his eye level, a finger raised in a questioning gesture.

“Top drawer,” he grumbled.

Without another word, you turned to the nightstand and rummaged through the drawer. Your fingers brushed past rolling papers, lighters, and razor blades before finally finding alcohol and some bandages. Supplies in hand, you perched sideways on the armrest of his chair, extending your hand to take his.

The bulky man allowed you to tend to his wound, silent as you carefully cleaned the bleeding cut. His drowsy eyes followed every move of your delicate fingers. He couldn’t help but notice how small and soft your hands looked against the roughness of his calloused skin.

"Becks..." your voice came out like a sigh. "You can't keep going like this. You need to sleep." 

His fingers didn’t flinch as you applied the alcohol to disinfect the wound. 

"I know, darlin’," he said quietly, his gaze now fixed on your face as your brows furrowed in concentration while you cut the bandage. "And I’m tryin’, but-"

"It’s too much stress and weight on your shoulders, I know..." You carefully wrapped the bandage around his hand, tracing small circles in the air.

You liked that grumpy, big-hearted first mate more than you were willing to admit. He was your friend, your confidant, your favorite person on the crew. You wanted to help him. And after all the traditional remedies your crewmates had tried had failed miserably, your mind had begun drifting toward more... drastic options.

Benn Beckman was a reserved man. But despite his discretion, you knew he had his needs. Whenever you reached port, you knew he sought comfort in the arms of willing, affectionate women, eager to spend a few hours in his company. You’d seen him share drinks with them, whisper who-knows-what in their ears while they sat on his lap, hands sensually tracing the lines of his chest in some secluded corner of the tavern. 

And every time you saw him the next morning, a cigarette between his lips, that casual smile of his, and a trail of bruises on his neck disappearing into his shirt, something twisted in your gut.

Something you couldn’t quite define.

Maybe it was curiosity… curiosity about what he did with them all night, tangled in the sheets of an inn bed.

But it had been weeks since you’d seen the first mate blow off any steam. With no wind to fill the sails, the ship had no chance of docking at any nearby port, leaving everyone deprived of the opportunity to unwind and relax with some good company on the shore.

So one idea had started to form in your mind.

At first, you had dismissed it, thinking it was crazy and inappropriate. But as you watched Beckman worsen day by day, you reconsidered. It might be exactly what he needed to forget, if only for a moment, the weight of his responsibilities. And hopefully, get the rest he so desperately needed.

The only problem? Suggesting the idea felt harder than carrying out the remedy itself.

“You’re lost in thought…” His rough voice pulled you back, his hand gently holding yours after you finished tying off the bandage.

You cleared your throat and stood up, pulling your hand away from his to return the first-aid kit to the nightstand drawer. His gaze weighed on your back, and just before closing the drawer, you clenched your eyes shut, took a deep breath and decided to take the plunge.

“I think I can help you,” you said.

You heard a low chuckle behind you, laced with disbelief rather than malice.

"Darlin’," he said, rubbing his eyes, "Hongo's tried everything. He even gave me pills to—"

“I can give you something Hongo hasn’t,” you cut him off, your voice coming out more confident than you’d imagined it would when you’d rehearsed the words in your head. When you turned to face him, though, you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

“And what’s that?” He stopped massaging his eyes, revealing his tired gaze again as he looked at you.

“My mouth.” 

The two words hung in the air, finally freed after days of being locked in your mind.

Beckman stayed silent, his gray eyes locked with yours. With your heart in your throat, you approached the armchair and placed a hand on each armrest, leaning your torso toward the wordless man. He lifted his chin to look at you, and you tried to remain stoic and unwavering as his eyes flickered between yours, studying your features as if he were trying to see beyond your skin.

"Doll," he finally said, voice deep and soft. "If you're implying what I think..."

"I am." 

His lips twitched into a wry grin.

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not." Your fingers unconsciously dug into the fabric of the armrest.

His smile faded, and this time, his gaze held an animal-like intensity. Frowning, and with his lips pressed tightly together, he seemed to be trying to control an internal battle inside him.

"No," he finally said, his chin still lifted so he could look you straight in the eye.

His refusal struck you like a bucket of cold water, though, in some way, you knew that’s exactly what he would say. He always treated you with a respect and care befitting a goddess. Making you lower yourself to the dirt in such a worldly way would probably be unthinkable for him.

“Becks,” you sighed, removing one of your hands from the armrest to trail it up to his stubbled chin. “You’re barely on your feet. We’re all worried about you…”

Beckman closed his eyes at the feel of your touch, his chin leaning into your hand as he allowed himself a moment of rest.

“I can help you if you let me…” you continued, “We’re adults, it’d be an agreement between the two of us… an agreement between… friends.”

His jaw tensed in your hand.

“As flattered as I am that someone like you would be offerin’ somethin’ like that to a guy like me," he said, "my answer’s still no."

This time his refusal genuinely hurted you. You pulled your hand away, and his tired eyes opened again, disoriented without your touch.

"Your stubbornness is reckless," you tried to sound composed, but the pain in your voice betrayed you. "You can't work like this. A-a crew without a first mate at his best is a crew in danger. We all need you, Beck... I-I..." Your lips trembled nervously as you spoke, "I need you."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted was to add even more weight to the already burdened first mate. And that was exactly what you'd just done.

Embarrassed, you straightened up and began to turn away to leave, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist firmly and pulling you back toward him. He spread his legs to make space for your body to move closer to his.

"Girl," he said in a rough voice, locking his eyes with yours in a way that sent a spark flickering in the pit of your stomach. He frowned, and for a moment, you thought he was going to scold you, but his expression softened. "You can back out anytime. Got it?"

You nodded.

Before you realized it, his hands were around your waist, lifting your shirt and exposing the skin of your abdomen. He pressed his nose playfully against your navel, and his fingers traced the waistband of your pants.

“Becks,” you giggled as the ticklish sensation sent goosebumps racing across your body. “What are you doing?”

“I never let my partner pleasure me without takin’ care of her first,” he said, his voice muffled as he buried his face further into your belly.

Oh. 

Of course.

Benn Beckman, competent first mate and finest gentleman.

Smiling, you placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his gaze back to yours. As tempting as the situation was, you weren’t going to let him take this turn. You were here to help him, not the other way around.

"Becks, stop... you don’t have to. I’m not asking for anything in return, understand?"

He looked at you, his hands still resting on your waist. From the expression on his face, you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

"Besides," you added, trying to find something that would make him give in, "if that ever happens, I deserve it to be with all your strength. Not like the tired wreck you are right now."

A raspy laugh rumbled in his chest, and you smiled. How you loved that rough, husky laugh.

"Alright, Darlin’," he said, still chuckling.

Your smile lingered as you slowly lowered yourself to kneel between his legs, never breaking eye contact with him. Before your knees could touch the floor, he leaned over to the bed, snatching up his pillow.

"Here," he said, placing it on the floor beneath you, "don’t go hurtin’ those pretty knees of yours."

Why was he always like this? You thought as you made yourself comfortable on the pillow, placing your hands gently on his thighs for support.

"Thank you".

Your eyes lingered on the prominent bulge at his crotch, and without thinking, you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Beckman’s jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a rare display of vulnerability for a man with his reputation.

“Hey, big guy,” you gave his thigh a comforting squeeze, "it’s just me. Relax, okay? Just let yourself go…”

The tent in his pants seemed to complain within its prison, and you didn’t want to make him wait any longer. Slidding your hands down his knees, you spread his legs just enough to create space for your head.

"Who’s undoing the belt?" you asked tilting your head and looking up at him from beneath your long doe-eyed lashes.  

"You." His tone struck you as the same one he used when handing out tasks on deck.

Your hands gripped the buckle of his belt and unfastened it, your fingers decisively pulling aside the layers of fabric that stood between you, lowering the waistband of his pants and finally freeing his painfully swollen cock.

Benn Beckman was a big man. And his dick matched him well. With a large, pinkish-red head and a prominent vein running up and down a thick shaft. Your mouth watered at the sight, lips parted as you took a moment to prepare yourself.

"Darlin’,” Beckman said, taking the moment of silence as doubt on your part, “you can back out if—Hah~" 

His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you captured his swollen, mushroomed knob between your eager lips.

His taste was salty and strong in your mouth.

You, on the other hand, felt incredibly sweet on his cock.

Opening your mouth as wide as your jaw would allow, you slowly took him in, giving yourself a moment to breathe and adjust to him. You swallowed gradually more of his cock, eyes closed in concentration, hands anchored on his base for support, until you managed about two-thirds of his length.

He held his breath above you. His abdomen tightened with restraint when you looked up at him, your tongue pressing against the pulsing vein on his shaft, feeling the wild rush of blood running through it. Then his hand cupped your cheek, his lips curling into a smile as he traced with his thumb his own bulge inside you.

With your cheeks flushed by that smile, you began applying more pressure with your lips, rising back up to his large head, giving it a quick lick before taking him all the way down again. 

"That's it... “ he sighed. 

His hand slid to the nape of your neck, his fingers brushing your hair aside with care before settling there. You continued bobbing your head against his cock, making him groan with your upward and downward movements, trying to take as much of him as you could.

“Yeah, nice and slow princess…, just like that," he whispered, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles against your skin.

Encouraged by his sweet gesture, you decided to use your hands as well. One moved carefully up and down his hard cock, while the other dared to venture deeper into his pants. His balls felt heavy and tight between your fingers. The balls of a man who hadn’t known a partner' s warmth in a long time.

"So, so good, princess," the bulky man praised breathlessly, his eyes full of devotion as he watched your head bob sweetly between his legs.

His length twitched inside your mouth and you tasted a salty drop of precum as you ran your tongue through his slit. You smiled proudly on his cock, continuing to suck and bob, feeling sparks ignite between your thighs as your own arousal began to smolder in your core.

“Look at you... hah… so perfect… and takin’ me so damn well,” he groaned, his voice a little deeper and raspier than usual. 

His sweet praises, coupled with the slow, sensual glide of his fingers along the nape of your neck, sent a sharp jolt of desire coursing through you. Your mouth continued working up and down his shaft, increasing the pressure and speed as you felt the weight of his darkened, dilated pupils staring at you.

“Princess, open your shirt for me," he uttered with an unsteady breath.

Arching your brow, you looked at him, holding his gaze with an alluring intensity as you slowly obeyed. Your fingers fumbled with your buttons as you undid them slowly, one by one. As soon as you finished, he tugged your shirt down, baring one of your shoulders.

“So goddamn beautiful…” he whispered, the back of his fingers grazing your soft, vulnerable skin, tracing an invisible line from your collarbone to the curve of your cleavage.

His touch sent a shiver racing down your spine, and you frowned, fighting to control the raw, insistent desire building between your thighs. You continued to sweetly embrace his cock with your swollen lips, sucking him hard up and down, focused on how with each movement, his breaths grew more and more uneven.

"Ah~”  he tilted his head back, and his fingers pressed more tightly into your head, drawing you closer to his crotch. "Let's go deeper, a'right, Doll? Show me what that pretty throat can do…"

You nodded obediently, exhaling through your nose as you took his cock further, slowly swallowing his entire length inch by inch. 

“That’s it, such a good girl…” He praised you as his hands gently grabbed your head to guide you deeper into him.

His sweet words pushed you to swallow more than your throat could handle, and when his blunt head hit the back of your mouth, you couldn’t stop yourself from choking. 

"Hey, n-no," He huskily chastised you, giving you a little tap on the nose. Though he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes and rolling them back. "No gagging, okay? Good girls don’t gag”.

You nodded again, knitting your brows together in concentration, and let him guide you to take the rest of his cock.

“That’s it… breathe and relax for me, okay?”

You had to squeeze your eyes shut as the large tip pressed against your uvula, but once you managed the last few inches, you smiled proudly on his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed at you, letting out a heavy sigh, unable to avoid twitching over your tongue. “I knew you could take all of me…”

You continued moving your head, up and down, then down and up, always watching his reactions and listening to his breath to match the right pace. His throbs inside you became more frequent and desperate, and you began to fantasize about how his massive cock would stretch you to your limit. 

The thought did little to ease the growing, unbearable thirst inside you. The damp fabric of your underwear clung uncomfortably to your swollen folds, and you pressed your thighs together, seeking any form of relief.

Burning with desire, you increased the pace. Obscene sucking sounds filled the air as you worked your way up to his thick tip, repeating the process over and over again, making him grunt and curse above you in his frantic fight not to cum.

“G-good j-…  -ahh such a pretty good girl…” he had to shut his eyes and scrunch his brow to handle all the pleasure flooding him. “I’m so close, princess... gonna keep bein’ a good girl for me and not let me make a mess on the floor?" 

You don’t remember giving him an answer, but you do remember how your swollen pussy throbbed between your legs at his question.

You desperately wanted to touch you.

You desperately wanted him to touch you. 

And your prayers were answered.

As you whimpered in frustration, you felt Beckman's large hand slip into your pants and slide under your underwear.

“Shh, I got you…,” he soothed in that deep voice of his, his expert fingers parting your labia and pulling up the hood of your clit, circling your perfect spot with astonishing ease. “Go on, princess.” 

Gripping his hand you grounded your pelvis against it, desperately begging him to keep on those sweet circles that were taking you so quickly to the edge. He indulged, and in less than 30 seconds, he had you whimpering and mewling against his cock, eyes rolling and toes curling as you shoved his thick fingers into your clenching pussy.

Your pace bobbing your head decreased during your high, but the force increased. You hollowed your cheeks, raking him down with your mouth with so much fervor, that you had not yet come down from the crest of your orgasm when you felt his hands roughly grab your hair in firm handfuls, his cock throbbing against your palate and filling the bottom of your throat with his thick, salty load. 

“Fuck, princess, sweetheart, -ngah!, you’re too good, too much -so goddamn perfect,” Beckman moaned out a stream of mindless praises while he shoved his cock deeper into your mouth, emptying himself so hard and so deep in your throat that you gagged on his knob again. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, but you continued bobbing your head against him, feeling his hand rest on your throat as if he wanted to feel your windpipe shift with each swallow of his overwhelming stream of cum.

Panting, and sweating, with your hair tousled and your cheeks flushed, you felt the last of his spend spill into your mouth. You pulled away from him, lifting your eyes and finding him as breathless and damp as you.

He smiled, and his hand ran through his gray hair in an attempt to regain his composure. But as he leaned forward and his fingers grazed your cheek, the wetness made his smile disappear.

"Oh, Darlin’… No…" His voice cracked, eyes following the tears as they slipped down your cheeks. “Forgive me… I’ve made you cry.” His large hands lifted you effortlessly from the floor, settling you onto his lap. “Damn. I’m a fucking brute…”

“It’s alright, Becks,” you whispered as you pulled your face away, but he drew you closer once more.

His lips brushed softly against your cheeks, catching each tear with tender, almost apologetic kisses. You let out a soft laugh, and turned your head to allow him more access. In doing so, your noses brushed together, making your eyes flutter shut. In that brief, unspoken moment, his lips found yours.

The kiss was slow. Softer than you’d ever expected from that grumbling, broad-shouldered man. With the calm and patience of someone who had waited for this moment for a long time.

Sighing into the kiss, you allowed yourself to be carried away by the sweet, unhurried motion of his chin. When you pulled back, your fingers brushed lightly against his cheek. Your gaze met his deep gray eyes once again and what you saw in them was a look he reserved only for you.

A look that was now hungrier than ever, as if he were staring at something that had always belonged to him.

“And?” you asked, straightening your back and raising an eyebrow.

“And?” he mimicked you, a smile grazing his lips as he looked lovingly at you. “Darlin’, you were… you are gorgeous.”

“No,” you giggled as you gave him a light, teasing tap on his chest. “I meant if you can sleep now.”

“Ah, right… okay,” he frowned and cleared his throat. “The truth is… yeah, I think I can sleep now.”

You nodded as you gave him another light tap on his chest. But when you moved to stand, his large hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you firmly back into his embrace.

“Stay with me…” he whispered.

“I can’t, Becks. I’ve got work to do,” you lovingly brushed your fingers along his stubbled chin.

“No, you don’t…”

“Yes, I do,” you teased, “and if I don’t, my first mate is gonna punish me.”

"Oh, I see," he raised an eyebrow, "that first mate of yours must be really mean."

“The meanest."

He hummed in amusement.

“Is he?” 

"You have no idea."

Clearly enjoying having you so close again, he tilted his chin towards you, and grinned as he caught the way your eyes darted to his lips. But when you leaned away out of his reach once more, his smile faded.

"Maybe he's just a man," he said, his voice rough and barely a whisper, "who believes he doesn't deserve what he truly wants."

Your eyes darted between his. “And what is that?”

He cupped your cheek and his thumb traced slowly your jawline.

"Stay with me, and I’ll tell you in the morning."

You smiled as you closed your eyes, sighing before slowly nodding to him.

Before you could even catch your breath, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the bed. He gently laid you down, quickly straightening the wrinkled sheets to make sure you were comfortable.

Smiling, he tossed his shirt aside and lay down behind you, drawing a giggle from you when the weight of his body made you roll toward him. His bandaged hand came to rest on your thigh, while the other slid beneath your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer.

"Besides..." you heard him whisper, his nose nudging the curve of your neck, "I gotta show you what this tired wreck can do after a few hours of sleep..."

Those were the last words he spoke before letting out a long, deep sigh, his body relaxing behind you as his steady breathing signaled he had finally drifted off.

At last he was enjoying his well-deserved, soothing rest. You, however, couldn’t manage a single blink, and endured what felt like the longest night of your life.

.......................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

[cloudzoro]

cw: smut, fem!reader

Rug munchers, jungle explorers, bush divers. Call them whatever you want and they'll wear that title with pride because they're not scared of hairy pussy. They like how you look with hair.

They don't give a fuck whether or not you shave but they prefer it if you don't and they make that known to you. They like her hairy, and you better stop being worried that they're gonna judge you. You're both grown ass adults, you're supposed to have a little hair.

What kind of person is scared of a little hair? they think that mindset is pathetic and roll their eyes at the very idea you'd be less sexy to them unshaven. They'll pull your sweet pussy down on their face and go to absolute town down there and thoroughly enjoy it.

One Piece - Shanks, Robin, Crocodile, Zoro, Ace, Tashigi, Roger, Beckman, Killer

JJK - Toji, Nanami, Shoko, Sukuna

[redsshanks]

I need some Hongo, Beckmann, shanks, ace and/or Marco. And im thinking spa night themed fluff. If possible! Thank you!

i love the red hair pirates and hongo is one of my underappriciated favorites! so i'm excited for this one!

warnings: none, it's all fluff, a little suggestive on beckman's part

word count: 1,947 (total)

CUTE SPA NIGHT WITH SHANKS, HONGO BECKMAN, & ACE══▸

Resting your head back further against his shoulder you let your eyes fall closed as the steam waved over the two of you. The water of the hotspring was nice and warm, comforting and relaxing every muscle in your body. If you could stay here forever you probably would. Eventually the heat would become too much and you’d begrudgingly get out, but for now you were content. 

Your lover at your side however seemed to be a little less at ease than you were. His fingers twitched against your arm, obviously doing his best to keep them still, but it was no use. “You’re fidgeting.” Opening one eye you raised your head to look at him, “Do you want to get out?” 

“No.” Shanks answered quickly, “This face stuff just itches.” At the scrunch in his face you couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay yeah laugh at my pain.” The narrowed eyes held no malice, just a warmth to match the bath. 

Pulling away from him you grabbed the washcloth that sat in the basket and wet it. “I told you to wash it off in five minutes. You’re the one who didn’t listen, or who has no concept of time.” Gently washing the mask from his face his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer. 

His breath ghosted against your face as he looked at you with soft eyes, “You had my arm and I didn’t want to move you.” He had been right about that, you’d not paid attention to the time either when you molded yourself to his right side. “I didn’t feel like moving either.” he added.

Splashing him with water it was his turn to laugh, “You’re just lazy and using me as an excuse.” You supposed he deserved to be lazy when it was like this. Being an Emperor of the Sea had him busy quite often. You knew he made time for himself on the sea but there was always danger when he was on the sea. “You’re a big baby sometimes you know that.” 

An easy grin sat on his lips “And you love it. You love being able to baby me.” He waited until you sat the washcloth back in the basket before pulling you back against him. “Just like I love babying you.” His lips were on your jaw, soft kisses that weren’t searching for more. Just enjoying the moment. 

Grabbing his face with both of your hands you pressed your own kiss to his lips, “What would the world say if they knew the great Red Haired Shanks liked to be babied?” You kissed his grin, “How fearsome you are.” A powerhouse that melted under your touch. 

“They’d be jealous because you’re the one doing it.” He pressed his forehead against yours, “I don’t need to be fearsome with you. I just need to be me. That’s why I love you.” 

You were both silent as you sat there, bodies against each other in the water. His hold on you loose but secure. “I love you too.” 

A soft smile played on your lips as Hongo read over the ingredients of the products you’d handed him. You’d thought this would be an activity he was more than happy to take part in, a relaxing spa day, getting extra clean, he loved that. But as soon as you got out products with chemicals the doctor in him came out. 

“Are you satisfied yet?” You nudged him with your foot, “This is supposed to be a fun night, relaxing even.” The smile had shifted from a smile to a slight pout. It wasn’t often the two of you actually had time just together. A small stop at your island was all you were going to get for a few months. “If any of your friends come in here trying to drag you to some party I might fight them.” 

His quizzical stare at the bottles faded into something different as he looked at you, “Oh yeah? You’ll fight Shanks for me?” 

Sitting up you put your chin on his shoulder, the smell of the sea filling your senses, something that always meant he was near. “To keep you with me and not at some bar in town? Oh yeah, he’d have no chance. You’re mine until you leave this island.” 

A strong hand cupped your cheek, “He knows. They all know, you made that very clear.” His lips were on your forehead before a quick kiss to your lips. “Now sit up if you want me to do this.” 

Doctor mode was clearly activated as he rubbed the first cleanser on your skin, his warm rough hands working it into your skin. Skilled precision and hitting all the spots that collected more dirt.  Still when you looked at him you could see it in his eyes. He was happy, content to spend time with you while you had it.

In a week's time he’d be back on the sea, fighting and partying and living the freedom he loved. But for now he was yours and he’d always promised that when it was over he’d come back to you. You could see the truth in his eyes when he spoke of it. 

Leaning forward you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the foam getting on his own face, “Hey! I’m trying to do this right.” He pushed gently at your shoulder but stopped when your hand came up to rub the foam into his own skin. “I’m supposed to be pampering you.” A slight pout he’d deny if you pointed it out. 

“And I’m supposed to pamper you. Accept it, Doctor.” 

The air was warm in the bathroom, there was quiet music coming from the festival outside adding to the ambiance. Sweet scents, pleasant steam and strong hands rubbing your shoulders. You almost couldn’t think of anything better than this. But if someone joined you in the tub it would be much better. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get in with me?” Your hand grabbed the strong one rubbing into your shoulders as Beckman’s deep laugh filled your ears. “There’s plenty of room and I could rub your shoulders.” Your lips pressed against his forearm before it was gently pulled away. 

His face was next to yours as he leaned forward, chin almost on your shoulder. “Your rose oils and petals would probably dry up if I joined you.” You snorted, a wet hand tapping against his cheek, earning you another laugh. 

Beckman didn’t pull away when your hands played with his hair, “But you’d smell very nice. And you’d be naked in a tub with me.” If anything would win him over it should be that. You knew his weaknesses and had no shame in exploiting them. Especially when they ended so well for you. “ I don’t see any downsides.” 

“Only thing that smells this sweet I need all over me is you.” Despite the constant flirtations that left his mouth and your own previous words, you still felt your face heat up from the praise. “Besides, there's plenty of time for that after.” An eyebrow raised as he moved towards the end of the tub, hands reaching into the water to pull your leg out. 

You were both quiet as he rubbed your feet. The music still softly came in through the window, for a moment you wished you were both out there with everyone else. Beckman loved parties, he loved being with the rest of the Red Hair pirates, but he was here with you. Rubbing your feet as if you were the one who was out all the time fighting or adventuring. You wished he’d take the softness he showed you. 

When he hummed along with the music you pulled your foot from his hands and sat up. “Let me do something for you now.” You’d meant to be innocent but his smirk had you rolling your eyes, “Not like that. I can rub your shoulders, play with your hair.” Your body was warm when you stood up, relaxed from the bath and his massage. “I’ve been doted on enough, I feel bad pulling you away from the festival.” 

He grabbed your hand helping you step out of the bath, the smell of smoke from the cigarette he’d lit filled you. Any other time it was a horrible smell but now it was just a sign that he was here with you. Around him it was comforting. 

“Oh miss a festival or miss all this?” he draped a towel over your shoulders. “I think we both know where I’d rather be.”

It was hard keeping in the laughter as Ace’s face scrunched up every time your hand moved across his face. “Stop moving your face like that.” You were trying to make the mask even but he wasn’t cooperating very well. Or maybe he just really wasn’t able to stop the twitching. 

“I’m not trying to. It’s just sticky.” He was whining but he’d been the one to agree to it. He’d even suggested it. He’d been joking when he said it. You’d commented on how the ocean had been harsh on his skin and he said he should use one of the ‘goopy things’ you put on your face.

Your eyes had lit up and he knew he’d sealed his own fate. That was why you were now sitting on his bed, you on your knees and him grumpily sitting there letting you rub a charcoal facemask into his skin. 

At first he’d been happy to let you get so close, something that had taken effort for. It hadn’t been long since the idea of you on his bed with him made him almost burst into flames. Now he’d been excited when you grabbed his shoulders and practically sat in his lap. His pleased face only lasted so long when you started putting the mask on him. 

“Stop being a baby. You’ll be ready to let it sit soon and it will dry.” You didn’t tell him that you’d move away from him when it needed to dry, but you knew he’d have his face against yours the second he was free. Ruining your hard work and the ‘suffering’ he’d endured to have it put on. “Or I can let you wash it off now and our moment is gone.” 

His arms wrapped around your waist and you had to pull back to keep the still wet mask from getting on you. “Or you wash it off and we have a better moment without this sticky stuff. We can watch the stars or anything else.” You didn’t miss the attempted raise of his eyebrows when he said ‘anything else’ 

Kissing his bare shoulder you worked yourself out of his arms, “The sticky stuff will make your face look better. And I like it when you look healthy. Not grimey.” 

Ace let you pull away but snorted when you called him grimey, “Wow. You’re supposed to like me no matter what I look like. And you claim to love me.” It was nice that he was joking like this, he was healing, finally accepting that he deserved love and happiness. 

“I do love you, even when you pass out in food, or when you light yourself on fire.” His face was losing movement with the pull of the mask but you could see how happy he was in his eyes. He’d never admit how much he liked hearing this. “But you’re gross sometimes.” You teased before reaching over and touching the now dry mask, ignoring the faux glare he was giving you.

He let you touch his face, wincing when you peeled at the edge. "I think next time I'll just help you with the face mask stuff."

You hummed in agreement, but you'd already decided you'd try some of the less 'sticky' masks on him. “Okay then let’s take this off and you can pamper me.”

[grandline-fics]

For your Valentine's Event: Single Red Rose with Benn Beckman. ❤️

DESCRIPTION: Single Red Rose- When your date goes wrong, they come to your rescue

WARNINGS:  mutual pining but it all works out.

CHARACTERS: Benn Beckman

WORDS: 923

A/N: Thank you @thecrimsonacademic for this request for the Valentine's Event! I hope you like what I came up with for Beck. This is my second time writing for him so I'm still trying to get the hang of getting his personality down

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

————————

When you’d returned to the Red Force, Benn immediately noticed the extra bounce in your step and unshakable smile. His eyes always seemed to find you regardless of what was going on around him but when your mood was this good, it was impossible for him to not notice. You must have encountered something very fun to do on the island they’d stopped at. Still it didn't explain why you were back so soon. He was one of the few on watch duty. You were part of the group out exploring the island. Curious he stepped up beside you as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. “What’s got you so upbeat? Yasopp get drunk and fall asleep in a flowerbed again?”

“No! It's too early for that, even for him.” You grinned, leaning against the counter while Beck grabbed a drink of his own. “I’ve got a date tonight.”

Not a lot surprised Benn much anymore but that declaration did make him pause and the once delicious mouthful of ale in his mouth seemed to become heavier and harder to swallow. While nothing ever explicit had happened between you both, Benn was very aware of his feelings that had been growing for you to be beyond just crewmates and friends.

You’d both flirted more times than he could count and been affectionate but nothing ever romantic or sexual since Benn believed letting things take the natural course to be the best plan of action. Seemed while he was on the ship and you were out on your own, someone caught your eye. He was a realist to know this wasn’t love for you and this random person. The ship would be setting sail in a couple days, this was just something to pass the time. Regardless of the meaning, the word ‘date’ twisted something unpleasant in him. 

“A date huh?” Beck asked, keeping an air of calm and lightheartedness in his words because the last thing he would ever do was sour your happiness. “Hope they’re able to show you a good time. You deserve it.”

“I hope so too.” You smiled warmly as you finished your drink and sighed with a light shrug. “But if turns into a bad time, I’ll not cry over it. They’re cute, but not that cute. I’m going to get ready.” You stepped away and walked towards the door only to stop and quickly turn to look at Benn warningly but still with a touch of playfulness in your stare. “And if Shanks asks-”

“I know, I know. ” Beckman chuckled, knowing the last thing you'd want on a date was for Shanks to lurk nearby or tease you and disrupt things. “I won’t say a word until we set sail.”

“You’re the best, Beck.” You beamed before disappearing down the hallway to get ready for your night.

It wasn't long after you’d left to go meet your date when Lucky and Hongo returned to allow Benn and the others remaining on board to go out and see the island and have some fun. Beck knew he wouldn’t need to search far to find at least someone in the crew, knowing their lively presences would make themselves known without any effort. He was right because someone in the crew did appear, he was just surprised to see it was you and even stranger still you were on your own and the bounce you had in your step earlier was gone. “Hey you.” Beck greeted, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts. “What happened?”

“Guy never showed.” You explained with a small shrug. “Left a message that had he known I was a pirate he wouldn’t have asked me out.”

“You’re kidding.” Benn asked with eyebrows raised and a disbelieving shake of his head, some people were so gutless. “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologise, Beck. Like I said he was cute, but not cute enough to cry over. I just wish I hadn’t wasted my time getting ready for it to go to waste.” You shrugged, smiling softly at Beck’s sympathy. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on the ship.”

As you moved to head in the direction of the ship you were swiftly caught by Benn’s hand and stopped. You looked up at your crewmate and let out a sigh to see him looking at you with a serious look. Truthfully you weren’t in any way hurt by what had happened. You’d mostly agreed to a date with someone else because you thought it would take your mind off of your feelings for the man in front of you. Now you hated that he looked upset on your behalf.“Beck, honestly I’m fine.”

“Fine or not you look too good to let it go to waste. C’mon you wanted a date, you’re getting a date.” Benn instructed, leading you back towards the town. When you opened your mouth to protest he grinned at you. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure you have fun.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” You huffed out with a smile, finally letting him lead you wherever he wanted. “Fine, I’m curious now to see how Benn Beckman operates on a date. Show me what you got Beck.”

“Oh that’s a tall order.” Benn laughed, adjusting his hand to lace his fingers with yours. “Y’see to really get the full experience it’ll take a lot more than a single date. Could take a long while.”

“That so?” You grinned walking side by side with him. “I’ve got the time.”

——————————————-

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[thbbie]

༄ benn beckmann x f!reader. (based on this ask)

you had asked for this. insisted. going on and on about how you could handle it, you could take it, whispering coyly to him how bad you need it. describing to him in great graphic detail what you want from him. and at the end of the day, benn was just a man.

a man smitten.

who was he to deny a pretty thing like yourself?

he watched fondly your (failed) attempts to keep your excitement from him, your want for him. it's just so endearing.

benn had taken good care of you; laying you down, kissing you slow, running his calloused hands over your soft body. and at every turn, when you try to speed things up, growing impatient at his ministrations, he isn't bothered by it, your excitement is getting the better of you.

though benn cannot blame you for feeling excited. excited by the novelty, excited by the potential for pleasure.

he is however, an incredibly intelligent man, wise and perceptive; along with that comes being incredibly self aware. benn's big. strong and roughened at the edges by the life he's gotten to live.

it can't be rushed, and that's just what he tells you as he goes on caressing your jittery impatient body. "relax my dear, you'll have what you want. just breathe, enjoy this first"

age has taught him that not everything must be rushed, and a beautiful body like yours? especially must not be rushed.

now he watches you fondly as you twist and turn beneath him, over taken by a blissful delirium you've never known before. clawing at his arms and shoulders as if they'll provide you salvation. perhaps they would. perhaps they are all the salvation you need right now.

he's sliding into you, slow and steady, balanced with a hand on either side of your head effectively caging you in — it makes him look all that much bigger.

you're crying out, and he lets you, movements slow and measured, practiced. "it's gonna sting for a little bit. " he says the words with his lips pressed to your temple, " 'ere you go darlin . 'ts a big stretch but you can handle it. can't you?"

nodding your head quick at his words as he continues sliding into you slow.

"not even using words anymore? you don't wanna talk to me now?" his voice low and teasing, the adoration he feels for your dripping off each syllable.

"i can h-handle it"

"yea you can. 'm agh- almost there."

finally, his pelvis is flushed against yours, bottoming in completely. you're filled to the brim, body adjusting to the unfamiliar stretch — he's just so big.

benn doesn't move, giving you the time you need to adjust. generously peppering kisses to your skin and mumbling soft words of praise. that you're doing so well, that you feel so good, hoe beautiful you look like this.

"benn," his eyes are already on yours, long hair pulled into his signature ponytail at the base of his neck with a few strands hanging loose. "you could move now" he looks devilishly handsome like this

pulling himself nearly fully out of you. and pressing allll the way back in. "theree you aree. m' proud of you darlin' . doing so well for a first timer." he's teasing you — or well, the mess of you that remains

already you feel stupid, all his movements so sweet, so patient; still greedily, pathetically, you want more. more of him, more of how he makes you feel.

benn counties, rhythm steady and comfortable, rubbing at your exposed clit gingerly. he looks so composed, barely even breathing heavy, meanwhile he's rendered you incapable of coherent thought.

"bennn~ i lov-" he leans down to kiss you, effectively cutting of your sentence and stream of thought. you don't love him, he's just making you feel really good.

his careful facade i starting to tarnish, the softness in his eyes is real and the hunger veiled behind is real too. he rubs your clot faster, thrusts into you with a little more force, watching as your beautiful face contorts for him. watching the little bulge in your belly disappear and reappear with each of his thrusts.

you lose yourselves in each other, limbs tangled and breathes mingling — this feels as new to him as you.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Make Me Forget

A/N: song request by my friend Sarah - I know you said you were fine with sfw but that song just doesn't give me sfw vibes 😅😝 hope you like it

Fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain Fake it like you love me, come on, baby, touch me Show me where it hurts this dirty little curse Don't have to be ashamed if you wanna scream my name While I fuck away the pain

Summary: your ex screwed you over and now you need a distraction and Beckman gladly assists you

Warnings: hurt, nsfw, oral (receiving), p in v, age gap, MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Beckman x FReader

P.S. somehow adding the Song doesn't work 😠 but it's called "Fuck Away The Pain by Divide the Day

It was late evening in a dimly lit, somewhat rowdy bar by the docks. The smell of salt and sea mixed with the tang of rum, laughter, and shouts blending into a chaotic melody.

You sat at the counter, shoulders tense and fingers gripping a half-empty glass. Your mind kept replaying that fucking asshole together with that whore and his words - cold, final, cutting deeper than any blade.

You downed the drink, wincing as the alcohol burns, but the ache in your chest remains. You were trying to drown it out, drown him out. But it wasn't working.

Three fucking years and he, he fucked around behind your back with every girl that would open her legs for him.

Damn bastard. How could you be so blind?

Fucking asshole hopefully he gets stabbed in a dark alley.

Piece of shit.

But tonight you were here to forget to let go, to find a distraction. Though the selection in this bar was rather ugh - a man with barely any teeth left, another one that reeked - of hell you didn't want to know what that was and another one looked so green that he would probably pass out before you could get a shot.

You had planned on letting lose have a good time, forget your ex but the clientele here was not helping.

Great.

Well then you had to go over to plan b - get fucking drunk.

But before you could order the next drink a shadow fell over you and a very handsome and attractive man sat down at the counter next to you.

Damn what a hot dilf.

He leaned casually against the counter, cigarette between his lips, gaze sharp but somehow soft when it landed on you. He didn't say anything at first, just ordered a drink, his deep voice resonating through the noise.

When his eyes met yours again, there was something knowing in them, like he’s seen your type of pain before.

"You look like you’re trying to forget something," he remarked, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness. "Or someone."

You felt a mix of irritation and curiosity rise up inside you as you glanced at the man. Of course, this random guy would think he could see through your bullshit, but there was something about him, something about that knowing look, that made you hesitate for a moment before you scoffed and looked back at your glass.

"What’s it to you?" you muttered, more bitterly than you intended. But you didn’t care. You were not here to make friends or to talk.

His lips curled slightly, as if he was amused by your defensive tone, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he just exhaled a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette and turned his attention back to the bartender, casually placing another order.

When his eyes flicked back to yours, they were unreadable, as if he was sizing you up, deciding if you’d be worth his time. "Just wondering if you’d be more fun if you weren’t so angry," he replied, almost in a whisper, yet the words seemed to land heavier than they should. "I get the feeling you're angry at the wrong person."

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat, a flicker of surprise breaking through the haze of resentment. How the hell did he know that?

"You have experience with angry women or are you just that damn good at reading people?"

His lips twisted into a smirk, the smoke trailing from his mouth before he replied. "I’ve got my share of experience," he said with a low chuckle. "But mostly... I just know when someone’s in pain. You’re not the first one to try and drown it out with liquor, but that never works for long."

You leaned back against the counter, exhaling through your nose, trying to appear indifferent even as your insides clench. It was true, what he said. You had planned to drink the memory of your ex away.

“I didn’t come here for a fucking therapy session,” you murmured, but you weren't sure if you were talking to him or to yourself.

The man didn't seem phased by your resistance. Instead, he took a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes glinted with an unreadable expression. He let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again, his voice low, almost a challenge.

"Then what did you come here for?" he asked, his gaze lingering on you, a quiet intensity behind it. "Because I doubt it’s just to get wasted."

Before you could say something, the man leaned in slightly, his voice just a touch softer, his cigarette now forgotten in his hand. He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the presence that surrounded him making everything else seem irrelevant.

"Maybe we can find a better way for you to forget," he suggested, his words hanging between you like an unspoken offer. "If you’re willing to see how a real man treats a lady" His words caught you off guard, making your stomach tighten in a way you were not used to.

A quick glance at him told you everything you needed to know. The confidence. The quiet, unshakable composure. This man has probably seen it all, the heartbroken women, the angry ones, the ones who want nothing but a temporary release. You weren’t the first to walk into his path, and you were damn sure you wouldn't be the last.

Your fingers tightened around your glass, eyes narrowing slightly. "So what, you think you're the guy to help me forget? To make me feel like a lady?"

His eyes flickered with something darker, something dangerously close to amusement, but there was no hesitation in his voice when he responds.

"I think I’ve got the right kind of distraction you're looking for." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "If you're willing to find out, unless you're too scared of a real man"

Oh holy fuck that man was serious and so fucking irresistibly charming.

Without a word, you stood up, pushing your glass aside and turned to face him fully. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you moved a little closer. The buzzing energy in the room seemed to fade, leaving only the steady thrum of your heartbeat and the low hum of his presence in your mind.

"You sure about that? I'm not one for pleasantries but you could at least give me your name" you said, your voice lower than before, but now laced with something else, something that matched the fire you've been holding back.

The man tilted his head slightly, a subtle, knowing smile curling at the edges of his lips. "Call me Beckman and believe me darling I’ve got a lot of ways to make you forget," he said, his voice deep, steady, a silent promise hanging in the air between you two.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a sharp, challenging look. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice low and almost daring.

His smile widened, a flash of amusement crossing his features, but there was something else there too, something darker, more predatory. He leaned forward, his breath brushing against your ear as he spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "Let me show you."

You didn’t need to say anything. The tension snapped. You took the final step, leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that started slow, testing, but quickly deepened, hunger and frustration melding into something more urgent.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow but urgent, a perfect mix of heat and control. But as your lips parted the space between you felt even heavier, thick with the tension that neither of you dared to break just yet. Your heart beat faster, and you felt the alcohol in your veins but it didn't dull the intensity in the air.

Beckman pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing over your wrist as he watched you, eyes searching, calculating. He didn’t need to say a word; the look in his eyes already spoke volumes.

You took a deep breath, leaning in just enough to graze his ear with your words. "I want you to fake it like you love me." It was a dare, a challenge, but underneath it, you were screaming inside, wanting to give in to him force you to forget everything. To forget the hurt, the lies, the betrayal. For just a little while, you wanted to pretend that this was all you need, that you were wanted.

"You’re trying to forget," he said, his voice low, almost taunting. "Well we can fuck away the pain, erase him from your brain. just show me where it hurts and I'll make the pain go away while you scream out my name"

The tension in the air became almost unbearable as his words hung there, heavy and inviting. His hand moved to your waist, fingers pressing against the fabric of your clothes, drawing you even closer. His gaze locked onto yours, daring you to dive into this reckless distraction you’ve both been wanting. Your chest rose and fell with the rush of adrenaline and you could feel the heat of his body.

You let your hand move up his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The soft cotton of his shirt did nothing to hide the strength of his body, the way his muscles shifted with every subtle movement. And when you leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, your breath hot against his skin, you couldn’t help but feel that all-consuming desire to be devoured by him.

"Take me there," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the rush of your pulse. "Make me forget it all."

The words seemed to ignite something within him.

Beckman didn’t hesitate. His hands moved with a purpose now, rougher. He pressed his lips to your neck, his kiss searing, and your body shuddered under the heat of it. "Don't worry darling, I’ll give you what he couldn’t."

With a sudden, almost brutal shift, Beckman pulled you into him, his body pressing flush against yours, the heat between you rising. His hands trailed down your spine, his grip firm but never too much, always in control, always testing. And when his lips found yours again, this time, not slow, not soft, no, this time desperate, hungry, as if he knows you’ve already made the choice, as if you’ve already surrendered to whatever he will do.

There was no hesitation left in you now. No shame. Just a fierce, wild need to lose yourself in this moment, to let go of everything that’s been weighing you down.

You pressed into him, your hands exploring the contours of his body, your breath shallow, desperate. He was right. You needed this.

He grabbed your arm and led you into a backroom closing the door behind him shut and pushing you onto a table behind you.

His hands slid beneath your clothes and you gasped, back almost instinctively arching when he brushed over your clothed nipples.

He smirked at your reaction and began to slowly peel off your clothes leaving you only in your underwear before taking a moment to admire you. "He must've been an idiot to leave something like this" Beckman hummed his fingertips tracing along your exposed skin. "But don’t worry when we're done you won't even remeber his name and with me there are no string attached" he said and soon his lips followed the path of his fingertips.

Kissing, licking and nibbling at your neck followed by your cleavage and between your still bra covered breasts down to your belly stopping at the waistline of your panties.

You let out a deep groan when he stopped.

"Someone's a bit eager but i will not keep you waiting - much longer" he teased. His hands were back on you as he took your bra off exposing your breasts and already errect nipples. Before he let his finger brush over them - agonizingly slow and teasing.

You arched your back into his touch and a moan escaped you when his lips found one of your nipples.

"Fuck Beckman," you gasped. You could feel him smile against your skin and suddenly his free hand traced along the inside of your thigh.

"I could keep this up all night, but I think I’ve done enough teasing for one evening," he growled in his deep voice.

And before you could say something more he moved from your breasts down to your waist kissing the tender, sensitive skin there while his hands teased the waistband of your panties before slowly and deliberately pulling them down.

"Beckman please" you moaned as he blew wind down between your legs.

"Please what darling?"

"Please fuck away the pain, erase him from my brain" you almost begged him.

"As you wish" he said before kissing, biting and sucking the skin on your inner thigh inching closer and closer to your core.

You moaned, arched your back and gripped the edge of the wooden table.

When his lips finally made contact with your folds you let out a loud "fuck" instinctively trying to close your legs but he reached up keeping them spread.

His tongue moved slowly, agonizingly slowly, over your folds before he pushed deeper, licking and sucking until you were a moaning and screaming mess.

"Oh hell Beckman I'm gonna......I'm.....I'm gonna cum" you screamed making him pick up the pace licking faster, deeper, his tongue driving you insane, his nose pressing against your clit until you could feel your release.

Oh fucking hell that was......just fucking amazing. But Beckman wasn’t done with you.

"This is how you treat a lady, tell me darling are you ready for more because i want to hear you scream my name so loud you won't remember his anymore" he groaned moving from between your legs up to kiss you, to let you taste yourself.

"Take me further, Beckman. I want to be only yours… I want to scream for you." Your words came out in quick, breathless bursts, each one full of the desire to leave everything behind and lose yourself in him completely.

Beckman just smirked at you before he took your hands gently and guided them to his pants before letting go and moving his own back onto your skin.

Your lips parted slightly as you hastily began unbuckling his pants tugging at it almost desperately making him chuckle. "Such a needy little lady" he teased before helping you pull them down along with his underwear.

You looked at his already errect member biting your lips - nothing compared to your ex. Hell he wasn't even half as manly as Beckman. And at the same time it made you tense a little.

Beckman carefully grabbed one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder while leaning his body closer. Planting kisses from your stomach up to your neck sucking and biting the sensitive skin while aligning himself at you entrance.

"Good girl just take a deep breath" he murmered into your neck one of his hands fondling your breasts the other drawing soothing circles on your inner thigh before he carefully pushed into you making your back arch and a loud moan escape your lips.

"Oh holy fuck" you gasped the feeling nothing compared to your ex.

"You won't even remeber you had an ex once I'm finished with you" Beckman growled as he moved slow, deliberate and so damn intoxicating.

You moaned, you whimpered and you begged him for more.

"Faster, Be-e-eckma-a-an please" you said nails scratching down his back while his lips began kissing a path from your neck to your jawline and finally your lips before picking up the pace, making you moan into it. The hand he had on your thigh began to move down to your clit circling it in the most delicious way.

"Ohhh, Bec I'm no-o-ot gonna la-a-ast any longer" you stammered when he broke the kiss your body on fire, every nerve every fibre electric.

"Cum for me darling" he purred and he didn't have to tell you twice with a loud "Beckman" you reached your high while he rode out his own orgasm following shortly after with a deep primal grunt when he felt you cum around him.

When he slowly pulled out of you he remained hovering over you his forehead resting againt yours smirking charmingly down on you. How could he still look so relaxed while you were already spent.

"Good girl," he said kissing your lips his hands tracing soothing patterns up and down your body. "Are you ready for the next round" he asked with a smug smirk.

And you? You just smiled and nodded.

The night continued with desire, bliss, screams and the sound of skin on skin and your ex was soon forgotten thanks to a very charming and "skilled" Beckman.

[sh4nksslvt]

Smoke Break

A collection of fiery, smoky encounters where passion burns as hot as the cigars and blunts exchanged between you and some of the world’s most dangerous daddies i mean men — every kiss laced with smoke, heat, and unspoken desire.

Benn beckman x reader x sanji x smoker x crocodile | ONE SHOT

Tags: fluff, flirty, smok!ng, w3ed mentions, blvnt smok!ng, cigarette smok!n, mouth-to-mouth sm0ke sharing, minor spit description, light nsfw tension

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

word count: 3.3k

MINORS DNI!!

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Is it hot in here or is it just me?

I'm so high in here, been smokin' on this weed

Only drug a bitch is on is the tree

But I lasted ten rounds like a freak

Like a G

Benn Beckman

The deck still stank of gunpowder and sea salt by the time you slumped onto the steps leading up to the helm, boots heavy with exhaustion. Your knuckles throbbed from the earlier brawl with some no-name pirate crew dumb enough to pick a fight with the Red Hair Pirates. You won, obviously—but victory didn’t erase the tight coil of stress still buzzing under your skin.

You dragged your hood up over your head, shielding your face from the low sun. Hands steady, you pulled out a battered little tin from your pocket, the familiar ritual already soothing your frayed nerves. You broke down the nug slowly, fingers working with careful, practiced motions. You barely even registered the distant sound of boots approaching.

Benn Beckman stopped a few feet away, cigarette halfway to his lips, brows lifting slightly at the sight of you hunched over the tray.

He leaned against the rail, arms crossed.

"Rough day?" he drawled.

You didn’t look up right away, just finished rolling your blunt with a lazy flick of your thumb. When you finally glanced his way, your gaze was cool, detached—like you were sizing him up and decided he wasn’t worth worrying about.

"Nothing a smoke can't fix," you muttered, voice low and even.

Benn whistled low under his breath, impressed.

"Didn't think you were the type to roll your own medicine."

You snorted, lighting the blunt with a snap of your lighter.

"Cigs are for rookies," you said, plucking the cigarette from his fingers without asking. You tucked the blunt between his lips instead, your touch casual, intimate.

Benn played along, inhaling deep. His eyes hooded slightly as the taste hit him—stronger, sweeter than he expected.

"Holy shit," he coughed out, laughing.

You took the blunt back from him with two fingers, tapping it lightly against the railing.

"Too much for you, old man?" you teased, the faintest smirk curling at the edges of your mouth.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that vibrated in his chest.

"Old enough to know better. Dumb enough not to care."

You offered the blunt again—not by hand this time, but by leaning in, smoke trailing from your lips in a lazy, tantalizing swirl. Benn caught on quick, closing the small distance between you. His mouth brushed yours just enough to catch the exhale directly, smoke passing from your tongue to his.

The heat flared instantly.

Before you could pull back, he tilted his head slightly, deepening it into a kiss—slow, languid, tasting of smoke and adrenaline. His hand found your jaw, rough thumb grazing your cheekbone with a kind of reverence that didn’t match how fucking cocky he was about it.

When you finally parted, a thin, silver thread of spit clung stubbornly between your tongues until it snapped, leaving a hot smear of want in its wake.

You sat back, lazily dragging the blunt between your lips again. Your expression barely shifted—still that same unreadable cool—but your hooded eyes glittered with something dangerous, something alive.

Benn wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, grinning like he just won the biggest prize in the world.

"You always this generous after a fight?" he asked, voice low and rough.

You exhaled slow, letting the smoke roll between you both like a secret.

"Depends who's asking."

Benn’s grin widened, cigarette long forgotten at his side.

"Good," he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell the faint whiskey on his breath.

"'Cause I’m not planning on being just a one-time habit."

Sanji

The galley was quiet at night, all the chaos of the day gone still. It was your favorite time—when the ship seemed to breathe slow and easy, and nobody was around to bother you.

You sat perched on the counter, blunt half-rolled between your fingers, working fast but precise. You glanced around — no way in hell you could borrow a lighter from anyone without exposing your little habit.

Of course you didn’t bring yours. Of course.

You sighed through your nose and hopped down from the counter, moving toward the stovetop. You twisted the burner’s dial, letting a tall flame lick up from the gas, the soft click click whoosh breaking the silence.

You leaned into the flame, lighting the tip of your blunt directly against it, shielding it with one hand like an old habit.

That’s when you heard a low whistle behind you.

"You know," Sanji’s voice drawled from the doorway, lazy and amused, "most people come to the kitchen for food. Not... that."

You turned slightly, the blunt between your lips, glowing softly as you took your first pull. You held his gaze through the smoke, your expression unreadable, unbothered.

"Guess I’m not most people," you said coolly, exhaling a slow, thick ribbon of smoke into the low light.

Sanji didn’t flinch. Didn't fawn.

Instead, he grinned, a slow, dangerous curve of his mouth as he stepped into the kitchen, cigarette tucked behind his ear, hands sliding easily into his pockets.

"You could've just asked for a light," he teased, voice like silk and heat. "I would've given it to you. Anything you want."

You shrugged one shoulder, casual.

"Not exactly advertising my hobbies."

Sanji stopped a few feet away, head tilting just slightly, studying you. You could feel the weight of his gaze — not heavy, not invasive — just... there, like a hand trailing just over your skin without touching.

"You're full of surprises," he murmured, voice dipping lower.

You took another hit, slow and deliberate, letting the thick taste settle on your tongue. As you exhaled, Sanji moved closer, crossing into your space so naturally it felt like gravity.

"Mind if I...?" he asked, eyes dropping to the blunt between your fingers.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer with words. Instead, you leaned forward slightly, parting your lips just enough to offer the smoke right to him.

Sanji caught the game instantly.

He plucked the cigarette from behind his ear and set it on the counter. Then he leaned in, mouth brushing dangerously close to yours—not kissing, not yet—and drew the smoke straight from your mouth with a slow, deep inhale.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb brushing the warm skin behind your ear.

When he exhaled, it was right against your lips, warm and intoxicating.

The space between you crackled.

You barely had time to process before he closed the gap completely, his mouth pressing to yours in a kiss that was all slow burn, all slow claiming. His grip tightened just a little, guiding you against the counter behind you without force—just the kind of confident pressure that made your stomach flip.

You kissed him back, matching his heat with your own, the taste of smoke and fire mixing between your tongues. When you finally parted, a thin, sticky thread of spit clung between you, snapping when you tilted your head back, breathless but still wearing that same cool smirk.

Sanji stayed close, his forehead brushing against yours, his fingers still tangled loosely in your hair.

"You," he said, voice low and warm, "are way too dangerous to be left alone in my kitchen."

You chuckled, flicking ash into the sink.

"Then don’t leave," you said, voice lazy, teasing.

Sanji smiled against your cheek, teeth just grazing your skin as he whispered,

"Wasn't planning to."

And from the way his hand slid down to your hip, you knew he meant it.

Smoker

The port was busy, noisy, and reeking of salt and sweat.

Perfect place to disappear for a while.

You slipped between two battered brick buildings, finding a patch of shade away from the main street. No patrols, no Marines. Just the low hum of the sea and the sharp scratch of your lighter as you tried, once, twice — and cursed under your breath.

Dead. Perfect.

You rolled the unlit blunt between your fingers, considering your options. Borrowing a lighter wasn’t on the table — too many judging eyes. Especially for someone like you, already treading too close to the Navy's leash.

"Problem?"

The deep, rough voice made you freeze. A shadow stretched into the alley. You didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.

Vice-Admiral Smoker stepped into view, coat draped over his broad shoulders, two cigars clamped between his teeth, smoke curling around his head like a storm cloud.

You gave him a flat look, the blunt dangling lazily from your lips.

"No lighter," you said simply.

Smoker snorted, amused in that dry, almost imperceptible way of his. He pulled one cigar free and tucked it into his coat, flicking his silver lighter open with a smooth motion.

He lit his remaining cigar, took a deep drag — and then, without saying a word, held the lighter out to you.

You raised an eyebrow but leaned forward, cupping a hand around the flame as you lit the blunt, your face close enough to his chest that you could smell the faint scent of smoke, leather, and something warmer underneath.

You inhaled slow, savoring the first pull, then leaned back against the rough brick wall with a sigh.

"Didn't peg you for the sharing type," you said, smoke curling from your mouth.

Smoker grunted, replacing the cigar between his lips.

"Don't make me regret it," he said, but there was no real bite in his voice.

For a moment, you just stood there, passing slow, lazy pulls between you. The world outside the alley blurred into meaningless noise.

Then, bold from the buzz creeping in your veins, you leaned forward again—holding the blunt between your fingers—and offered the smoke directly to him, a silent challenge.

Smoker’s gaze sharpened slightly, amused. He plucked the cigar from his mouth and stepped into your space, his broad chest almost brushing yours.

Without hesitation, he caught the smoke straight from your lips, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of him — and then, instead of pulling back, he kissed you.

It was rough at first, full of the same heat and tension that always seemed to spark between you. His hand came up to cradle your jaw, fingers pressing firmly as he tilted your head back just slightly.

You opened for him without thinking, the kiss deepening into something slower, hotter — tongues brushing, breath hitching between you. His mouth tasted of smoke and salt and something that was just him.

The world outside the alley dissolved entirely.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t messy — just breathless, lingering. His forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath in the haze of smoke curling between you.

"You," he muttered, voice low and thick, "are nothing but bad news."

You smirked against his lips, your hands still fisted loosely in the fabric of his coat.

"Good thing you’re terrible at saying no," you murmured.

Smoker let out a rough, half-laugh, half-growl, and kissed you again—deeper, slower, like he had no plans to stop this time.

And honestly, neither did you.

You barely had time to settle into the heat of Smoker’s mouth again, the slow grind of his body pressing yours back against the brick wall, when—

"S-smoker-san?!"

The sharp voice cracked through the alley like a gunshot.

Both of you froze.

Smoker broke the kiss with a low, almost feral growl under his breath, his hand still curled possessively around your waist.

You cracked one eye open lazily, barely lifting your head from Smoker’s shoulder to glance toward the entrance of the alley.

Tashigi stood there, sword awkwardly bumping against her hip, her entire face rapidly turning the color of a boiled lobster.

"I— I— I was looking for you to discuss patrol routes— but I can—! I can come back later!" she sputtered, already halfway turning on her heel, practically tripping over herself to get away.

Smoker let out a long, slow exhale through his nose, the kind of breath that usually meant someone was about to get absolutely wrecked—but he didn’t move away from you. His hand stayed right where it was, fingers still flexing slightly against your hip.

"You’d better," he said, loud enough for Tashigi to hear as she fled back into the chaos of the port.

You couldn't help it—you laughed. A low, smoky sound that vibrated against his chest.

"Think we traumatized her," you said, voice rough with amusement.

Smoker shot you a sideways glare, but there was no real fire behind it. If anything, he looked... pleased. Dangerous. Like a man who didn’t give a damn who saw what he wanted.

"Serves her right for barging in without knocking," he muttered, gruff.

You arched a brow, grinning lazily up at him.

"Maybe you should install a door in your alleys."

Smoker huffed a laugh — a real one, low and brief — and bent to kiss you again, less careful this time. Hotter, a little messier. His free hand finally dropped the half-burned cigar, grinding it under his boot as he pressed you back into the wall, fully claiming your mouth again like he had all the time in the world.

And honestly, for once, you hoped he did.

Crocodile

The lounge was dim, soaked in the kind of golden light that made everything seem a little more expensive than it probably was.

Low jazz music played from hidden speakers, and the soft clink of chips and whiskey glasses filled the background.

You slouched lazily in a velvet armchair near the back, rolling the blunt between your fingers, cool and unbothered. No one really noticed you here — not with the heavyweights and high-rollers stealing the spotlight.

But, of course, he noticed.

You felt it before you saw him — a shift in the room’s atmosphere, a change in the way conversations dropped to murmurs.

Crocodile’s presence was like a thundercloud creeping over sunny skies.

You kept your expression blank, indifferent, even as you realized your lighter was nowhere to be found.

Perfect.

Exactly what you needed.

You sighed, the blunt sitting unlit between your lips, considering your next move.

A shadow fell across your table. You didn’t bother looking up.

"Need something?" Crocodile’s voice rumbled, amused.

You tilted your head slightly, fixing him with a bored stare, the blunt still balanced at the corner of your mouth.

"Seems I’m short a flame," you said, voice dry.

Crocodile’s lips curled around his cigar, eyes gleaming with something sharp and entertained.

He didn’t say a word.

Instead, he bent slightly at the waist — slow, deliberate — bringing the burning tip of his cigar close to the end of your blunt.

Too close.

He stopped just shy, forcing you to lean in to meet him.

You exhaled through your nose, slow and steady, and leaned forward, lips brushing barely near his cigar, lighting your own off the glowing ember. The flame caught with a faint crackle, a tiny hiss.

The whole time, Crocodile didn’t move an inch.

The smell of smoke, expensive leather, and something faintly spiced wrapped around you like a second skin.

You leaned back into your chair, taking a long, slow pull from the newly lit blunt. The first hit bloomed warm in your lungs. You exhaled lazily toward the ceiling, your eyes half-lidded.

"You're welcome," Crocodile said, voice dripping with dry amusement, straightening to his full height.

You tapped ash into a crystal ashtray nearby without even glancing at him.

"Didn’t say thank you," you replied coolly.

He chuckled — a low, dangerous sound that vibrated in the base of his chest.

"Didn't expect you to."

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The tension crackled softly between you, thick and slow, like molasses dripping from a knife.

Crocodile shifted, the gold of his rings catching the low light as he pulled a chair up to yours — close enough that his knee brushed yours under the table.

Deliberate.

Territorial.

"You planning to cause trouble tonight?" he asked, cigar smoke curling lazily around his words.

You blew out another cloud of smoke, just as lazy, just as unbothered.

"Depends," you murmured, voice low. "You planning to stop me?"

Crocodile smirked around his cigar, eyes gleaming with something dark and hungry.

"Not tonight."

He sat back, perfectly relaxed, the image of a king amused by the antics of his favorite piece.

You could feel his eyes on you as you smoked, weighing every slow drag, every lazy exhale.

Watching.

Waiting.

The house always won in places like this.

And tonight, it was clear you weren’t going anywhere.

The minutes slipped by in a slow, heavy haze.

The blunt burned low between your fingers, each drag slower than the last. Across the small table, Crocodile watched you like a predator sizing up easy prey — not rushing, not moving, just waiting for the exact right moment.

You met his gaze through the rising smoke, your face blank, but your heart starting to thrum a little harder behind your ribs.

He shifted finally, leaning forward slightly, elbows braced on his knees. The gold of his rings caught the light again, flashing like a warning.

"Come here," he said lowly, almost conversational, like you were a thing he fully expected to obey.

You didn't move immediately. You took another lazy pull from your blunt instead, blowing the smoke off to the side with a small smirk. Testing him. Pushing.

Crocodile huffed a small laugh under his breath, all amusement gone razor sharp.

Without warning, he reached across the table, hand catching you by the wrist — not rough, but firm, dragging you forward until you were pulled out of your chair and into his space.

The blunt dangled forgotten from your fingers as he leaned in — close enough that you could see the faint scar cutting across his face, the glint of amusement and warning in his heavy-lidded eyes.

He reached up with two fingers, plucking the blunt casually from your grip and setting it in the ashtray with a careless flick.

"You’re slow," he murmured, voice like warm gravel. "Let me show you how it's done."

You barely had time to process it before Crocodile’s lips crashed into yours.

It was rough — like he was making a point. His mouth devoured yours with an intensity that was unexpected, yet exactly what you needed. His cigar still burned between his fingers, and before you even had the chance to think about it, he tilted the cigar toward your lips, offering the smoke as you kissed.

The warm, glowing tip of the cigar hovered near your mouth, and you instinctively opened up, taking in the deep, spicy taste as you inhaled. The heat of it filled your lungs, mixing with the taste of Crocodile’s kiss — rich, dangerous, intoxicating.

You pulled back just a bit, lips brushing against his, then exhaled slowly, the smoke curling out from your mouth and into his.

Without breaking eye contact, Crocodile inhaled the smoke you gave him, his gaze darkening as he held it in for a beat, then exhaled it slowly, sending it back toward you.

The air was thick now, saturated with smoke and the lingering taste of him. Every breath felt like it stretched the moment, making it last forever, and yet, you knew it was only a brief exchange.

When he pulled away, his lips were curved into that same smug, dangerous smirk.

"Better," he muttered, voice rough with satisfaction. "Now you’re getting it."

You smirked back, though your chest felt a little tighter than it had before.

"You’re insufferable," you said, the words coming out softer than you intended, but your heart was still racing in your chest.

Crocodile chuckled low, the sound like a dangerous promise.

"Only when it suits me," he said, leaning back in his chair and taking another slow drag from his cigar. He didn’t look at you directly but you could feel the weight of his gaze on your lips. "You’ll learn, eventually. That’s how the game is played."

You stayed there, breathless and still, as the tension simmered between you.

The house always won.

And tonight, you were playing Crocodile's game

[worstgenerationloser]

, , Why can't I just spend the night? ' '

Pairing... One Piece Multi x Female! Vampire! Reader.

Posted... January 28th, 2025.

Updated... February 9th, 2025 (CH1 coming near the end of March!)

Bites... 0.

Timeline... Medieval Fantasy.

Contents... Graphic descriptions of blood and violence, heavy sexual themes, use of alcohol and other recreational drugs, death, use of manipulation, sexual uses of magic and witchcraft, slight cannibalism, angst and arguments, slight depictions of mental illness, and surprisingly— romance.

Introduction...

You are a vampire. Long ago, there were tales of your insatiable bloodlust shared across the lands, you had acolytes who worshipped you as their deity— or so you thought. After having been betrayed and forced to slumber, you wake up and search for answers... and warm bodies to feed off of.

Who is the best bite?

Nico Robin, an archaeologist who stumbled into your castle. She's lucky you're somewhat nice.

Portgas D. Ace, a passive-aggressive werewolf. He's annoying.

Monkey D. Luffy, Ace's little brother. He's pretty gullible.

Aokiji Kuzan, the man almost as cold as you. What is he, exactly?

Shanks, a well-known adventurer around the world. You're jealous of his success.

Benn Beckman, also a well-known adventurer, and Shanks' closest friend. Shanks trusts him with his life.

Silvers Rayleigh, a retired old guild master. He's onto you.

Dracule Mihawk, a fellow vampire. He keeps to himself, mostly.

Vinsmoke Sanji, a young runaway prince. He thinks he's being subtle about finding you attractive.

Nami, a navigator for the Fleur Kingdom's Marines. She wants to see the world and map it all out, Robin is helping her.

Roronoa Zoro, a vampire hunter. He's one of the few people who know vampires still exist.

Usopp, a cowardly elf who lives alone. He's searching for his father, who supposedly joined the adventurers guild.

Doflamingo, an incubus in disguise. He's worked his way up in the rankings of the kingdom, and he won't stop until he's at the top of the world.

Eustass Kid, a demon of old reborn into a new body. All he craves is chaos and death, and maybe a bit of you.

Sabo, the angel who hangs around werewolves. Even though you're technically a distant relative of a demon, he's kind to you— is it a facade?

Trafalgar D. Water Law, a doctor who has made significant contributions to the medical field. He's taken a liking to studying anatomy of supernatural beings.

Chapters...

Prologue... "Original Sin."

Featured Character(s)... Nico Robin, Dracule Mihawk, and a whisper of Vinsmoke Sanji.

SFW.

Chapter 1... "Offer the life."

Featured Character(s)... Portgas D. Ace, Nico Robin, Monkey D. Luffy, and Sabo.

NSFW.

Chapter 2... "I wanna be your dog!"

Featured character(s)... Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy, Silvers Rayleigh, and Sabo.

NSFW.

Chapter 3... "I wanna get down with you."

Featured Character(s)... Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy, Silvers Rayleigh.

NSFW.

[alexa-yukiyu]

Kid reader/dokucha stealing coats/capes, like shanks cape, doflamingos, corazons, or kids fluffy ass jackets, laws coat that he had during wano etc.

woah id thought there would be more characters with capes bit i can only think of shanks- everyone else has just giant coats that none of them wear correctly except for the fluffy coats that doffy, cora and kid has (tho he had the other one before he lost his arm-) how do they not fall of the shoulder?! now in just ranting whoops

Coat Stealer

with Red haired pirates and Kidd Pirates

A/N ps I forgot my annotations in my laptop :p. Anywhoww that’s where you are wring nonnie! In the red haired pirates alone Benn, limejuice, yassop and Lucky have been seen wearing capes! There’s Luffy too and Rayleigh! And Boa…Jinbei…er well you see my point! 😂 Regardless i was just going to give my take for this but figured a drabble would take my point across better was hating on this but is it actually passable?? What do you guys think? Ya like?

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese for the enjoyment of reader and oc characters readers alike!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

Red Haired Pirates (Shanks Cloak)

“Ha! Ha! I am the Captain now!” Dokucha cheered as they climbed their way to the table, a familiar cloak engulfing them as they did.

“Hmm, Captain, you seem to have shrunk; what’s up with that?” Beck drawled, nursing the drink of his hand as he looked up at the child

“Shut up!” They yelled, shrinking slightly at the pointed glare the first mate sent them

“S-sorry, I meant quiet?

“…”

“Quiet, please?”

“Better,” he nodded, taking a sip from the sakazuki

“I’m Captain Shanks! Bow before me, peasants!” They called arms raised in victory

“I think that was the wrong Impression, Dokucha,” Lucky snickered, taking a bite from his meat

“Why don’t you try something the Boss always does?” Beck suggested

“Oh! Okay!” They nodded, clearing their throat

“I am Captain Shanks! I love women and alcohol and, and and breaking kids hearts!” They roared at the top of their lungs

“Huh? Did I get it wrong?” they asked, tilting their heads confused seeing as Yassop and Lucky doubled over laughing, Beck doing a spit take upon hearing the kid's’ words.

Kidd Pirates ( Kidd’s Coat)

Heat jumped from his bed as his door shot open, and a red ball of hair was thrown in. Curious, he approached the familiar coat, quirking his head as a small face popped up from it.

“Dokucha?”

“Uncle Heat! Help me!”

“W- What’s wrong?

“Hide me, please!” They begged as they threw themselves on the floor in front of him

“Oh. I’m guessing it has to do with his coat?” He asked, frowning as they nodded their head

“What do I get out of it?”

“Are you serious, uncle?!” They shouted, an incredulous look on their face as they shot up

“Sorry, kid. When it comes to the Boss, I’m not doing it for free. You better choose quick, though,” he teased. Before Dokucha could ask about his words, the sound of doors slamming, curses ringing, and stomping feet sounded behind them, causing Dokucha to blanch out.

“Anything! Please just hide me! I was just so cold, and he was in the shower. I forgot to put it back, please!”

“Eh, not worth, sorry.”

“Uncle?”

“Boss, they’re over here!” They gaped at the man, horrified at the betrayal, until the door behind them shot open, and something grabbed hold of them. They let out a cry as Kidd threw them over his shoulders, saying no words as he left the room.

“You better sleep with one eye open, Uncle!” They hollered as Heat simply waved them off, a teasing smile on his face as they continued trying to fight their way off the Captain’s hold

What we thinkin?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[kaivenom]

benn and rayleigh x f reader (separately) who call them daddy as a joke but they ended up liking it 🙏🙏🙏

Calling them daddy as a joke but they ended up liking it

Characters: Benn Beckman, Rayleigh

Warnings: allusions to sex.

Masterlist

Benn Beckman

He is already suspicious that he may like being called daddy.

He loves control, he loves feeling somehow superior and completely having you under his influence.

But the time you joked about it and called him "daddy", your whole relationship dynamic changed.

I hope you are ready for what you put yourself into, first of all the most brutal and lustfull sex you both had ever.

Then he would come day after day with new info he discovered of the kink and new dynamics to try.

In like two months he mastered the thing.

"So... i think you already discovered that i like that you called me daddy."

"No, really? i couldn't imagine how could that be, not how you got an instant boner the moment i told you about it." you said sarcastically.

"Well, youre right, i don't know if you mean it like a joke or if you are willing to try it but i am interested."

"We are already trying some things, why don't add this? if you really like being called daddy, then i must do as daddy says."

"Don't tempt me like that before we even started."

Rayleigh

At his eye he tought that he couldn't be surprised about sex anymore, he has tried almost everything and of course... daddy kink.

He didn't like it the first time he tried so he never thought about that anymore.

Then you came and dating was awesome and one night when the mood was getting hot, you decided to joke about.

"Daddy..." you moaned between kisses.

He pulled back and lokked at you with a blank stare, you thought that you did something wrong.

Then he reclined himself on the chair and pulled his arms back.

"You never cease to amaze me little one, since i am your daddy, do all the work from now on."

You smiled, he tends to be a little cruel with dominance and making you do the work but his eyes betrayed him, you had unlocked a sweet hidden spot inside him.

[fanaticsnail]

Snail Navigation Masterlist

Hello and welcome, I'm Snail!

I write mainly for the One-Piece fandom, all catalogued below the cut in a series of individual masterlists. Some of my work is NSFW, meant for 18+, so please minors do not interact with my content.

It is an absolute pleasure carving out worlds that you get to be placed in the middle of. This page is specifically to be positive and enjoy sharing creativity. I hope you enjoy your time spent with me!

Tobiuo: My One Piece Original Character: Heart Pirate Security Chief, 7'2 Fishwoman.

Commissions: Closed.

Request: Temporarily closed.

Gift Swapping: Temporarily closed.

Pirate Snail: Gift by @/remisloves @/torao-chan. I love this snail, and I love the beautiful person who made it for me.

Divider Links: waves, 18+ by @/firefly-graphics

I have divided up my large collection of fics and drabbles into their own categories. Each fic has a description within their own Masterlist, including content warnings should minors be present. I hope you enjoy your time exploring my writing, and happy reading!

Straw-Hat Masterlist

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, & platonic crew

Heart-Pirate Masterlist

Law, Shachi, Penguin, & platonic crew

Kid-Pirate Masterlist

Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, & platonic crew

Red-Hair Pirate Masterlist

Shanks, Beckman

Donquixote Masterlist

Doflamingo, Rosinante / Corazon, Caesar Clown

Cross-Guild Masterlist

Sir Crocodile, Dracule Mihawk, Buggy

Misc & Marines Masterlist

Koby, Helmeppo, Sabo, Kuzan, Bogard, Garp, Marco, Zeff, X Drake

Giants Masterlist

Katakuri, King, Loki (Elbaf)

Drabbles Masterlist

Shorter fics for light reading

Original Characters Masterlist

Content includes OC x OC, OC x Canon, and OC x Reader content within. This is with my original characters, and others' OCs with permission to create for them. All NSFW fics marked accordingly.

Multi-Character Series

Dance Series Masterlist

A series of one-shots where you, the reader, get to dance with your favourites. Written with a f!reader in mind, but can be read gn.

The Kissing Booth

A selection of kisses with you as the blindfolded recipient.

Yandere Masterlist

To love so much it makes you sick with blind devotion and intense infatuation. Sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest. You are that special person, and they will stop at nothing to make you theirs, and keep you close.

Pollen Masterlist (NSFW 18+)

Dust from the lust-plant burrows into the lungs of all that inhale it, prompting desperate and primal urges to eclipse their natural senses. All that inhale the pollen need aid in navigating through their urges, some urges stronger than others.

Dreaming of You Masterlist (NSFW 18+)

They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. NSFW, mdni, 18+

2024 Birthday Event (NSFW 18+)

A variety of kinks explored with a multitude of different readers (gn, afab, amab, F, M) all explicit and incredibly NSFW with a few favourite characters.

Drawing Masterlist: One Piece Original Characters

Art with my fics: short dialogue

Fic Inspo: mood boards, clips and prompts for all to use.

Ko-Fi: If you feel so inclined to support me as I keep creating works, this is a link to enable that should you so desire.

Side blog: @sultrysnail for content away from One Piece