#red force

the wind was caressing your face. he was going south while you were going north. he had begged you to come along with him last night but you had refused — saying that you needed to go back to finish your business. the world government had been keeping a close eye on you. which was why you had been working for them. it was the only reason why you were still alive when you were destined to die years ago.

despite the shitty twist of event, you were glad that you're still alive. otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to meet with the love of your life.

you pulled out the seashell that you had took while you were walking with him last night and placed it in his hand. "whenever you miss me, just look at this seashell and face the north. i'm sure i'll receive your feelings from afar," you smiled. 

but now that he's facing north while clutching onto the shell, where the hell are you? why aren't you appearing in front of him? he misses you so damn much it physically hurts him. he took another swig of the alcohol in his hand before going back into his cabin to retire for the night. 

—

the island was quiet in the morning. it usually is. because the community is relatively small. most of the people living here are the elders. you enjoyed staying here with the elders. they helped you around despite knowing the truth of your background. and in return, you helped them too. they're a friendly bunch.

for some reason, this morning wasn't like others. why? because it was loud and chaotic. it usually isn't like this. and it was earlier than the time you woke up too. letting out a tired groan, you begrudgingly get out of bed, walking to the sink to wash your face. and when you leave your house, you could see the elders all running towards the beach.

with renewed interest and curiosity, you went along with the elders and walked towards the beach. you couldn't see who it was, but the man seemed to be tall. red hair... you shook your head, throwing away all possibilities. there's no way he would be here. he's... out there probably. trying to find the one piece now that luffy's an emperor. 

until they clear out a path for him. "hey! isn't that redtail?" lucky roux pointed out, a hand slapping shanks' shoulder. his head whipped towards your direction, eyes widening, his heart — they felt like it's beating out of his chest. it's the way his eyes soften from their playful nature. you immediately turned on your heels and started walking away. "huh... maybe i'm wrong. her red streak is not there," the man ponders. 

"it's her..." shanks muttered, almost rendered speechless. you took his breath away once again. no — every time he looks at you, his heart beats faster, his palm turns sweaty and he felt as if his breath was held by you. it was as if you were his oxygen. he felt alive again. a smile forms onto his face and he immediately walked in the direction you had left. his crew members were left confused, looking around to see each other's face before shrugging and went to find a tavern for them to rest.

his steps grew faster when he catches a glimpse of you. it is you... there's barely any red left on that lock of hair that you had dyed. it's probably still recent but you didn't dye your hair anymore. he wonders why. his hand reached out and it latches onto your arm. "sweets... my love," he muttered, taking a step closer to you. "won't you look at me anymore?"

you bit your lower lip, keeping your tears at bay. you can't let him see you like this. "you've got the wrong person," you said, your voice almost got lost in the wind by how quiet you were saying. "then look at me in the eyes. i'll know if i got the wrong person," 

steeling yourself, you wiped away your tears before turning around to face him. "see? i'm not whoever you're looking for,"

he let out a shuddered breath, hand trembling as it moves to cup your cheek. "darlin'... my love..." he muttered, his eyes speaking depth of his emotions. "i'm not-" he placed his lips on your forehead, then moved to graze your cheek, effectively cutting you off. you could hear his shuddered breath. that's how much you effected him. your presence alone got his all being melting. he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your comforting smell. you smell like home, feels like home. his home.

when you smiled, it felt like the sun were shone in his face. that's how bright you are in his eyes. the way your eyes squinted slightly, the slight crinkle on your eyes and that smile line when your smile disappear. he's so terribly in love with you that it made him sick. moments like this made him believe that he could love. you were as free as him on the sea. perhaps, freer. he thought that his heart was full enough of luffy. but you; you fill his heart so full.

and his crew members weren't wrong when they said that he had turned into a lover boy. he loved everything about you that there's no words to describe how much in love he is with you. he's man sick in love.

"shanks! come join me!" you squealed when lucky roux flung you on his shoulder. the red force were having another banquet today. it was to honor the lost of their captain's arm. everyone knew that he was alright, it was just an excuse to have fun, drink beer and dance. the red-haired male only chuckled before standing up to join you. for the sake of your smile, he'd do anything. 

"sweets, will you smile for me? i need to know that this is real..." he caressed your cheek, his face nuzzling on the other side of your face. as much as you want to hug him, kiss him and cry about how much you love him, you just can't.

you break free from his hold, causing his face to harden. you could see his heart breaking into pieces just from a glimpse of his eyes. "i told you, you've got the wrong person," you looked away. this was for the best. he can't be seen with you anymore. not when the world is tearing apart every island just to find you. when they arrive, you can go with them in peace. but for now, you would like to delay your time as much as possible.

behind the closed door of your house, your heart was pounding in your chest, face flushed and tears freshly poured down your cheeks. a part of you liked seeing how lost he is without you but a part of you also wished that he would leave the island and never come back. 

"boss! we've got another one of you!" yasopp burst out laughing while pointing out the red streak on your hair. "we've got our captain's wannabe!" lucky roux wheezed. you've always admired shanks. everyone on the ship knows that — including the captain himself. you thought that shanks would laugh along with everyone else. but he gave you the fondest smile ever.

you didn't know it but that was the first time he had fallen for you. everything was quiet. it felt as if you were the only person on the ship. the others' sound were drowned by his beating heart. he could have sworn that an angelic sound was playing in the background when he saw you that day. no one believed him. no one believed him when he said he had seen an angel.

that night, he went ahead and board his ship alone, a bottle of beer in his hand as he stared at the moon, daydreaming. he likes to reminisce about the good old days when life was carefree. he still remembered the day when the world government branded you as the traitor to the world. it didn't matter to him that you were a traitor or not. he was just as bad — being a pirate and all.

everyone practically had to hold him back from finding you all over the world. and now that he found you, you were saying that you're not the person he was looking for? how could you not be? you had that same eyes that he finds himself drowned in, those plump lips that he used to kiss whenever he could and that smile line that he truly loves.

"that missus? oh, her name isn't y/n at all! she's vina, born and raised here," the kind old lady answered. the words hit the red-haired captain like a knife — disappointment stinging deep. were you telling the truth all along? that you're truly not the woman he fell for?

the red-haired male shook his head, breaking out of his train of thoughts. 

—

"hmph, so you did not find anything new about the gum-gum devil fruit?" saint saturn spoke, his voice were palpable with hate and disgust. "remember why we still kept you alive, cursed-child," he said sternly.

you woke from your sleep drenched in sweat. his words still echoing in your ears despite it being many years ago. it was the day before they decided to send assassins to kill you. then you ran away, living under a guise, under a fake name on this island. you were grateful and deeply indebted with the elders here. they knew who you were but decided to help keep you hidden with a fake name and a fake identity. it's one of the reason why you never left the island after 12 years.

you wanted to return their kindness in any way you could. they're all generous and kind-hearted. it was a place that you never knew you could call home.

but seeing him again, it woke all the feelings you've buried under layers of denial. you don't miss him. you don't love him. you definitely don't care about him. you just don't. you definitely don't remember the way his lips caress yours in a gentle kiss, or the way his arms used to envelop you in their warmth. or the way he would call you with such fondness it melts away all your worries.

you spared a glance at the moon. it still caresses your skin the way you remembered it would. those quiet nights wrapped in his arms while you two stared at the moon. your heart was so full of him. used to. not anymore. letting out a deep sigh, you closed the curtain and sat on your bed before reaching under your pillow and pulling out shanks' wanted poster. 

you gripped it so tightly that it crinkled beneath your fingers. why do you still have this stupid wanted poster? you should've thrown it away ages ago. it was the only thing that you had left of him after you went into hiding. and it came right into your hands 10 years after living on this island.

the daily newspaper were dropped by your door early in the morning while you were tending to your garden. brushing away the dirt on your shirt, you grabbed the newspaper and smiled when you saw the cover page. it was luffy's wanted poster. he must've sailed out onto the sea. you flipped through the newspaper before something slipped out between the pages and fell.

your heart skipped a beat when you see clearly whose wanted poster it was. the captain of the red-haired pirates. your hand trembled as it caresses the piece of paper, fingers tracing over his features. you still remember him clearly. his face, his sharp eyes, the slight stubble on his face and that sharp jawline. it was all features that you fell in love with.

the quiet cooing of the birds brings you back to reality, your hand still gripping his wanted poster tightly. you fixed it gently, trying to bring it back to it's original state as a silent apology to him. you folded them carefully before putting it back under your pillow.

the next morning come as quick as the other. it was as if the world is calling onto you to quicken your death. your routine comes easily. you fixed your hair with a comb before tying them up into a ponytail. it was funny. you used to hate having a long hair, thinking that it got in the way of everything you did. but now, you kept it long and haven't touched it since-

you haven't touched it since 12 years ago. 

picking up the straw basket, you walk out onto the streets and went to the market. you really like it here. it was quiet and simple. the elders greeted you with bright smiles. some sneaked vegetables and bread into your basket. they treated you as if you were their daughter. "granny, i can still afford this. i work in town, remember?" you chuckled, pulling out your coin pouch to pay for the groceries. "well, you help me everyday. just take it you stubborn child," the old lady pushed you away from her stall. 

"i'll bring your favorite cookies after work!" you called out to her with a smile. she answered with a wink before tending to her customers. 

you truly felt like the world is laughing at you right now. it was as if some sort of cruel fate was put upon you. because why else would you meet with the captain of the red-haired pirates while you were on your way to work?

surprisingly, he didn't say a word when you walked pass him. that's... good. it was better this way. he shouldn't hold onto you. he should move on like you did. you don't hold any feelings for him anymore. everything means nothing to you now. yes, it was better this way.

—

his lips caresses your skin, enveloping every area on your body. it was always like this with him. it was making love rather than just sex. he would always put your needs first. sometimes pleasuring you hours before he finally allows himself for release. he was always so gentle with you. his eyes would always be trained on your face, taking in every expression to keep in imprinted in his mind.

his hand would brush away your hair just so he could see your face clearly. he would bury his face in your neck, breathing in the familiar scent. everywhere with you felt like home. he likes your smell. it puts his mind at ease. shanks didn't need any words of comfort. just being wrapped in your embrace was enough. everything about you was enough.

he would cling onto you desperately as if you would disappear. he would wrap you in his arm after making love to you. the way kissed all the places he had left a hickey behind, a silent apology for hurting you as he wrapped you in his warm embrace. 

Commanding Presence, Unshakable ConfidenceBenn Beckman isn’t just any man. He carries himself with effortless authority. He doesn’t need to raise his voice to command attention, doesn’t need to be flashy to be dangerous. The weight of his presence alone is enough to make men hesitate—and enough to make you shiver when those sharp, knowing eyes land on you.

His gaze is piercing. He doesn’t just look at you—he sees you. Every nervous swallow, every little shift of your body, every shaky breath. And he smirks because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. His voice? It’s low, steady, rich like aged whiskey—roughened by experience, yet always controlled. A voice that makes your stomach tighten when he murmurs, “Relax, sweetheart. You’ll be just fine. Just need to get you nice and ready for me.” His movements? Precise, deliberate, calculated. When he touches you, it’s never hesitant. He knows exactly where to place his hands, exactly how to draw the reaction he wants. Benn Beckman is not a man who fumbles. And he sure as hell isn’t a man who rushes.

Patience is His Biggest WeaponBenn loves slow. He doesn’t just take his time—he makes you feel every second of it. He wants you craving him. He drags his fingertips over your skin, tracing over your collarbone, down the curve of your spine—just enough pressure to make your breath catch. He watches your reactions like a strategist analyzing a battlefield. Where do you shiver? What touch makes you tremble? What sound escapes your lips when he whispers against your neck?

He doesn’t just kiss you—he teases first. Lips hovering over yours, warm breath against your mouth, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin—but he doesn’t close the distance until he feels you get desperate for it. And when you finally break—when you start leaning into him, reaching for more—that’s when he finally gives you what you want.

Teaching You Exactly How He Likes ItBenn knows you’re inexperienced. And that just means one thing: he gets to mold you, guide you, shape you into the perfect little partner. He takes control—not forcefully, but naturally. His hands guide you where he wants you, positioning you with ease. He whispers instructions in that deep, gravelly voice. “Just like that, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” He’s endlessly patient. If you hesitate, if you fumble—he just chuckles, tilts your chin up, and says, “Don’t think too much. Just feel.”

He doesn’t just want you to follow his lead. In time, after he’s given you a little of his experience, he hopes you’ll take your own control—even if he will never relent easily. He wants to watch you fall apart beneath him, completely lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. He wants you to challenge him, try to coax him into giving more.

The Art of Ruining You with His MouthBenn Beckman does not half-ass anything. And that includes using his mouth on you. He starts slow. Soft, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, a rough palm pressing against your hip to keep you still. He teases you with his breath alone. Lips hovering over the most sensitive part of you, warm breath sending shivers through your spine—but he doesn’t touch you until he knows you’re aching for it.

When he finally does? He works you over with agonizing precision—slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue, pausing just to hear you whimper before diving back in. And when your thighs start shaking, when your hands twist in his hair, when your voice turns breathless and desperate? That’s when he pins you down harder, growling against your skin. That’s when he drags you over the edge—again and again—until you’re spent, gasping, and trembling beneath him.

And when he finally pulls away? He smirks down at you, thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Didn’t know you could make such sweet noises.” His mouth glistened with you. “Hope you’re not spent already, sweetheart. I’ve only just started.”

Your First Time with Benn—Heaven and Hell All at OnceIf it’s your first time, Benn treats it like a slow-burning ritual. He makes you comfortable first. You don’t even realize you’re relaxing until his deep voice rumbles, “That’s it. Let go.” He undresses you slowly. Calloused fingers grazing over bare skin, making you feel exposed, vulnerable—but never unsafe. He touches you everywhere first. Mapping your body, feeling every inch of you before he even thinks about taking things further.

And when he finally presses inside you? He groans, low and deep, as he watches you, he wants to engrave the moment he makes you his on his brain. He low key enjoys you struggling to take him. “Fuck, sweetheart… so tight.” He won't move. Instead he will work that sweet spot till you come around him, he wants to make you cry in relief when he moves slowly at first, deep and unrelenting, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you open. He holds your wrists down, keeping you steady, whispering praises into your ear between every slow, devastating thrust. He knows it hurts even if your not a virgin he knows you're inexperienced. You have never had anyone like him and never will again. You his. Benn doesn’t just fuck you—he claims you. And when you finally fall apart beneath him, gasping his name? He just chuckles darkly and kisses you slowly—dragging you under and over the edge over and again.

Okay I got side tracked— Kinks- Warning the man is kinky ASF

Sharing You: Watching and Holding You Down

There’s something about the unspoken bond between Benn Beckman and Shanks that makes them perfectly in sync when it comes to the bedroom. It’s not just about two men with their own desires; it’s about your pleasure, and how they both enjoy watching you unravel. Benn will only share you with Shanks—he's the only man he trusts around you.

Benn enjoys the thrill of control as he holds you down, his hands anchoring you firmly, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Where they both want you. He’ll tease you relentlessly, bringing you to the edge, making you beg for Shanks to take over.

Shanks isn’t shy about stepping in—he knows how to make you feel completely his. He guides you with a steady touch, his fingers pressing into your skin as he slides into you, while Benn whispers dark encouragement in your ear. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Let him take care of you.” His voice is low and thick with satisfaction as he watches Shanks fuck into you hard.

Benn loves watching you squirm, his gaze focused and intense, as Shanks continues. He’s fascinated by how you respond, how you become his, completely. “Look at how beautiful you are, taking both of us so well.” Benn enjoys the vulnerability you give them—sharing your body with them, but also receiving every ounce of pleasure they can give. After Shanks it will be his turn– or maybe he went first. Doesn’t matter they will be taking multiple turns after all.

2. Soft Dom with Wife Kink

Benn Beckman isn’t one to rush things. When he’s with you, he’s completely attuned to your needs, guiding you with a steady hand toward complete surrender. His dominance isn’t about force or aggression; it’s the subtle, unshakable control that exudes from every move he makes.

The wife kink is one of his favorite forms of adoration. He loves calling you his, claiming you as his wife, the one he will cherish, worship, and protect. He wants you to feel like you are the most important person in his world- and wear cute little things he can rip off you.

When he’s with you, the experience is slow, reverent, and never rushed. He wants you to feel every inch of connection. His voice softens when he speaks to you, murmuring things like, “My beautiful wife,” or “You’re everything to me.” His hands never leave your body, constantly exploring every curve, memorizing every inch of you.

When he takes you, his movements are controlled and deliberate—gentle, yet firm. Every thrust is a reminder of his love, devotion, and commitment to you.

3. Heat/Smoke Play

Benn has a unique relationship with heat, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. He enjoys the burn—the burn beneath his fingertips as he smokes. He’s fond of lighting candles, the flickering light casting shadows on your body. As the wax slowly drips down your skin, he delights in the contrast of heat against your coolness, spreading it with slow, teasing fingers.

But it’s not just about the wax. Benn loves smoke too. He’ll blow smoke across your body, watching the hot air curl and lick your skin like a soft caress. He enjoys the tension it creates, the burn lingering on your skin as his breath follows it. His favorite bit is blowing it against your spent core, watching you squirm at the sensation of the warm air on your sensitive flesh.

4. Praise and Reassurance Kink

What makes Benn Beckman so captivating is his ability to make you feel perfect, no matter what. Even in his most dominant moments, he’s constantly reassuring you, making sure you know that you’re wanted, safe, and cherished.

His voice softens as he praises you during the act, and every gentle stroke, every kiss serves as a reminder of just how deeply he feels for you. “You’re perfect for me, sweetheart. You feel so good—don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He’ll murmur it all as he moves over you, making you feel like you’re the center of his world.

“My baby girl,” he says between kisses, as he continues to worship your body, reminding you that you are his.

5. Exhibitionism

In private, Benn enjoys the thrill of knowing you’re his, and the act of being with you. It’s not about showing you off; it’s about the secret pleasure of possession—the deep satisfaction of making it known to the world that you belong to him.

He loves the idea of people hearing you. Not seeing but hearing, only he get to see it’s about owning you completely. Sure, people might be concerned when they hear you scream, but that’s exactly what he wants—he wants the world to know who you belong to.

It’s not just reserved for his cabin; Benn doesn’t care where he is—pubs, forests, alleyways, even other pirate ships—nowhere is off-limits when it comes to marking you as his. He loves seeing the marks, knowing that they’re left behind from your time together.

On occasion, he might even let Shanks watch. But only if Shanks behaves—it’s a little incentive to keep his Captain in line. If Shanks has been good, he gets to share you. If he’s not? Well, he might have to sit on the sidelines and just watch... or listen to you.

Romance.

Or relationships, as they call it.

Are they really worth it?

Beckman used to say, or rather insist, that it was a bad, bad idea. Written in bold and possibly every existing font, and underlined twice. He said; "We're a pirate crew, not a soap opera."

And while the rest of the crew mostly agreed. Obviously, your red-haired captain stood firm against that. Arguing with Shanks felt like throwing a cup of water at a burning house.

It was pointless.

His love for you knew no bounds, his morals as a fierce pirate and a threat as an emperor to quite literally any naval base, crumbled entirely. With that stupid, corny smile of his that just came naturally. A smile that yelled "I'd have the sea swallow everyone whole and bring the One Piece itself to your hands in the blink of an eye."

It started off strong. It always does. Romantic, cheesy, always sticking to eachother like someone had forcibly handcuffed you together, except you did it willingly.

The quiet stares from the crew when you ate together. The first time you held hands, the feeling of his warm, calloused hand interlocking with yours in an ever so gentle hold. The loud whistles and cheers at the sight of your first kiss, with some in the background talking about losing a bet ;

"Called it! I gave it two more days max." Lucky roux laughed, slapping Yasopp lightheartedly on the back in a comforting gesture at his loss.

And so on.

And from there, it slowly escalates, into more problems, more disagreements. More "I'm too emotionally attached to not risk my life for you." type of stuff. Into, "We shouldn't have done this, we're pirates," and a bit of "This is getting risky."

You didn't want that. Neither of you wanted that. You loved him, he loved you. Certainely.

Not to the point of recklessly letting your emotions win and giving your lives away.

But you. Oh, you sure recalled. All those sweet moments, your mind sending you what seemed like an unlimited amount of very much unwanted flashbacks as you sat in your previously shared cabin. Hands on your temples like you were massaging the anger, the sorrow and the hurt out of your head forcibly. It wasn't working.

Wondering, how did you go from smiling to yourself and giggling into the pillow like a lovestruck teenager as your mind wandered to him, whenever you thought he wasn't looking.

How did you go from watching him, from a comfortable distance. Observing. Admiring. The way he talked about you to the crewmates like no other. When you thought he wasn't watching. But he was. He always was. And perhaps you knew, yet pretended not to, just to listen to him a bit longer. Paid attention to how he spoke of the smallest details about you that even you thought you didn't know, or never seemed to notice. Like you're more valuable than the One Piece itself. Which, to him, you are.

Or you were.

..Or so you thought?

You couldn't tell, at this point. Because what you had, was long over.

How long has it been now?

A few days? A week. Maybe two.

You lost count after a while. The only times you stopped reminiscing what you two had, was to run a few errands for the crew. Maybe a fight here and there. Taking care of some rookie who was brave enough to challenge Shanks himself. Perhaps an occasional mission.

What appeared to be a distant memory of you two now, you felt it. Deep inside, you could still feel it. Even now. Every inch of you felt it. Like a ghost's breath, his touch was still somehow there. Lingering. Soothing. Sometimes cold, sometimes burning hot from your shared intimacy.

Your head spiraled. You could barely focus on missions and whatever else. The clock on your wall ticking over your head like a countdown. A constant warning. The sound seemingly getting louder and louder, ringing in your ears.

A warning for you to get back to yourself, an independant pirate who never depended on anyone's measly feelings to function properly. Well, maybe that's pushing it a bit far. But Shanks definitely changed your perspectives and views of certain things. Some of your resolve completely shattered around him. And the worst part? You liked it. You loved it. You couldn't help but absolutely adore that goddamned red haired imbecile with the sweetest soul, the most heartwarming, calm voice and the kindest smile you'll ever see.

But that was it for you. Snapping out of those thoughts, one cold night at the Red Force. You made your way out of your cabin, carrying a bag over your shoulder as you took quiet, deliberate steps towards the railing. The moon hanging low, casting a spell on the calm tides of the sea, which was glittering like it was trying to mimick the dark, starry night sky underneath your gaze. A calming view, contrasting sharply with the wild storm spiraling inside your mind.

You thought you were quiet and slick. Though, amidst your heavy thinking, you seem to have forgotten one important detail ;

Shanks notices every thing.

Every move, every step, the subtle creaking of the wooden floorboards under your boots. The sound of the bag slouching over your shoulder.

Just as you were about to jump over and disembark. You, so unfortunately, felt a strong, oh so familiar grip on your wrist. It was strong, but not exactly there. Enough to hold you back, never sufficient to inflict any other feeling on you.

Great, just the guy you weren't trying to meet on your way here.

"Hm? Where to?"

He asked, quietly. Adding nothing else. A simple, firm question. Like he's asking you to confess your sins. And there it was. A voice you thought you haven't heard in decades. Deep, smooth, not overly gruff. It almost got on your nerves. How infuriatingly calm he always was, no matter the situation.

"..I'm off to clear my head, maybe a day or two.. maybe more." You sighed out. Brows furrowing ever so slightly as your eyes averted in the opposite direction of his.

And with that, his hand slipped away, freeing your wrist of his grip. He turned around, cape flaring behind him. Waving his hand dismissively.

His steps came to a sudden stop, taking a moment to glance at you over his shoulder, the scar on his eye diminishing under the dim lighting. A small glint in his eyes, a doubtful, regretting one as he spoke again ;

"..Come back safe, Y/N. We always need you here." In the most calm, collected, and gentle tone ever. Emphasis on the "we", like he was afraid to say he was the most worried specifically. But he couldn't hold you back, seeing the state you put yourself in after the break off.

Without another word, he left into the dark shadows of the upper deck, probably to the hammock he'd normally use.

Which was fine by you. Though a tinge of something you couldn't quite pinpoint, stirring in your chest. A familiar warmth, one you promptly ignored as you hopped off the ship, onto your dinghy.

And off it went. The slight frequency of the wind, along with the waves lapping gently against it, sailing it forward. Your mind wandered for a while longer, before drifting off to sleep.

Back where you left Shanks, he laid sleeplessly on the hammock, gazing up at the dimly moon lit sky, hand under his head, propping it like a pillow. His shirt half open, leg crossed over the other as the gentle wind swept through his shiny red hair. Thinking. Ever so deep in thought. Thinking about how you actively avoided his gaze in your earlier interaction. To how you were never like that with him. He's not the type of guy to move on from something like a break up so easily. No, never. He just never spoke of it much. But so did you, really.

His silence was soon to be interrupted, by the sound of a flick.

"You just let her leave like that?" A gruff, low voice spoke out, it was as if he appeared from nowhere, like a threat. It was Beckman.

Flicking the lighter, — click — ,and the flame on the cigarette— resting lazily on his lips as they curled around it— came to life.

"She'll come back. It's not like she's leaving forever." The red hair glanced at his wingman from the side of his eye.

"That's not my point." Benn exhaled, a puff of smoke emitting from his lips as he continued; "You know why she left, and you didn't speak a word."

"Women need time, Beckman, if I tried to talk her out of it, she'd just do it even faster to spite me." Shanks reassured, a small, involuntary smile tucking at the sides of his lips at the thought of you. How fierce and feisty you were. One of the most prominent things about you.

The silver haired individual was quiet. Convinced by the other's argument, but more like, not bothering much with Shanks. After all, he knew you much better.

"..Told you it would be no good." He sighed out, to which the captain quickly responded to, with a full on smile plastered on his complexion now ;

"It was worth the shot though, wasn't it?" Shanks grinned.

"..I guess it was. Couldn't have convinced you out of it back then anyway." Benn replied in surrender.

"I'll make it work again."

"You're not trying that again."

"Oh, I sure am."

Beckman rubbed his temples, rubbing a hand across his face like he was helplessly watching the world crumble right infront of him, like he wasn't just giving up on Shanks, but life itself. Or maybe life was giving up on him. An indistinguishable groan emitting from the back of his throat.

That idiot.

With the break of day, you emerged from sleep, eyes slowly blinking open to the sight of the bright sunlight ahead of you, straining your vision.

You stood upright, rubbing your eyes with a low, groggy groan. Or so you tried. Until you noticed your hands were restrained.

You didn't exactly wake up, it was more like something startled you out of your slumbers' dreams. A quick shake. A loud noise, too loud for such an early time in the morning. When the realization set in, your eyes fully widened in alert, looking at your surroundings in a daze.

Distant sounds could be heard, a few men speaking, waves lapping against the hull of a ship.. a hull.. of a ship?

You were no longer in your dinghy.

Keeping your composure, you analyzed your surroundings, for any sign of an exit, an escape route. It was a navy ship.

"Fuck, how did I not notice." You complained under your breath, looking back at the shackles holding you to the ground. Feeling the slightest bit lightheaded. "Did they drug me?"

"I don't have time to think about that now, I have to —"

"Have to what?" Mid breaking the shackles off, a sword at your throat held you back, one of the marine officers was standing right infront of you, ever so menacingly. "I don't know how one of the red hair pirates was slacking off for us to take so easily, but we sure weren't gonna let the opportunity slip between our fingers."

"You— Opportunity to do what ??" You growled, brows furrowing in a mix of anger, and.. admission? You admitted to yourself that you'd never get caught off guard so easily, never this easily. Things were really taking a toll on you, hm.

"Why, to use you as bait for that absolute menace of a pirate."

"Don't speak of him like that."

He tightened his grip on the sword at a few degrees.

"Aw, hit a weak spot, hm?" The marine chuckled, like he was enjoying getting on your nerves. And guess what, he was.

"You're really brave if you think you'll even stand a chance." You rolled your eyes, ignoring his previous comment.

"I'm sure he'll do what it takes to get you back in one piece." He spoke ominously, sword pressing a little harder against your throat, like a pending warning.

Within the deck of the Red Force, it has been days now. About four days. No sign of you.

"She said a day or two.." Shanks mumbled to himself, a tankard of rum in hand, staring out at the vast, peaceful horizon ahead of him.

"She said maybe more, Shanks." Beckman added reassuringly, like some kind of guardin angel. Always calm, always collected. Never panicked. Never thinking the worst.

The red hair turned around, leaning casually against the railing, his one elbow propping him to it.

"..Yeah." He sighed out, a small smile tucking at the corners of his mouth. "She'll come back anytime."

"Stop thinking about her so much, you lovestruck fool."

"It's true love, Beckman!"

"You're so far gone."

"I'm right where I want to be."

The interaction was soon to be cut off, by a familiar panicked voice;

"Captain, captain — !!" Lucky roux yelled out, running to Shanks like his life would end if he ran any slower. A meat skewer dangling off the side of his mouth, muffling his words, along with a newspaper in hand.

Now standing infront of Shanks, the rotund pirate took a moment to catch his breath, handing the newspaper to his captain with a slightly shaky hand. "It's her — !!"

Shanks raised an eyebrow curiously, head mildly tilted in intrigue, with that same laid back smirk he always wore, a hand raised in surprise.

"Calm down, Roux— who's.." He trailed off, taking the press from his hands, his previous smirk immediately faltering, as though he'd crossed a bridge between life and death itself. You were on the front cover, name written in bold like an alert. "..Captured." He finished.

Beckman, who was still standing beside him, sighed. Crushing his cigarette on the railing nearby, then taking the paper from his hands and reading through it carefully.

"Don't do anything reckless, Shanks. She's fine, we need a strategy."

"It's been days, Beckman, her life is on the line."

From the lower deck, Gab voiced ; "How did she get caught of all people, anyway ?!"

Shanks gathered the crew around, an unyielding expression plastered on his face. A look that could make anyone's knees buckle with just a glare.

"It doesn't matter how she ended up there, we'll find her." The red hair spoke firmly. His voice cold, gruff, leaving no room for argument.

Beckman sighed, though cracking a faint smirk at his captain's never changing determination. He could be an idiot, but Benn would follow him through hell and back.

Shanks raised his hand, where your vivre card was pointing. "Everyone, heading north now !"

The rest, on the other hand, roared fiercly in agreement. Yasopp turning the helm and sailing forward with all the speed the Red Force had to offer.

An adventure, a rollercoaster, certainely awaited.

It seemed like you were aboard that damned navy ship forever. They barely even fed you, purely on purpose. Your means of escaping were all blocked, haki significantly weakened.

Great, just what you needed. Piling up on everything happening, just the thought of everyone finding out you got kidnapped by some measly marine group, made you want to throw yourself overboard and land somewhere hot, and preferably die in a way no one would hear of you again.

But you knew they would hear, and you most certainely knew he'd come to your rescue anytime now. And you hated it, you hated being treated like some damsel in distress, but that smiling ginger idiot would do it anyway.

And so you waited, a sense of impending doom heavy on your chest. You slipped in and out of consciousness, almost forgetting there was this annoying marine guy pestering you all freaking day.

"Listen, if you're gonna be over my head yelling at me for some.. secret information from the crew or whatever, I might aswell start asking you to kill me soon." You sighed out, not even giving him the luxury of facing him.

"You're real cocky for an unarmed weakling in shackles." He teased, holding your chin up towards him with the dull side of his sword.

"And you're pretty full of yourself for threatning an.. unarmed weakling in shackles, as you say. Give me that attitude again once I'm out of here." You snapped back, calmly, firmly, giving him a bored look.

"You —"

He didn't have the chance to finish whatever he was saying, the words catching in his throat as the rest of the marines onboard yelled out, alerting ;

"Raid alert !!!! I repeat ; Raid alert, The red hair pirates are here !!!" One blurted out in panic, watching the others passed out one by one like bug sprayed flies.

There it goes.

The sentence you'd been anticipating. It was.. very much predictable. And that unmistakable haki of his.

Looking ahead, you saw him. Jumping from the deck of the Red Force into marines' vessel. That same grin plastered on his face like someone drew it on with permanent marker. He looked like he was walking into a birthday party, not invading a navy ship.

"What happened to coming back in a day or two?" Shanks chuckled, now kneeled beside you, breaking the shackles and freeing you.

"..I said I would be back, I didn't need you to interfere again." You avoided his gaze, again.

He lended you a supporting hand to stand up.

You didn't even look at it, standing up by yourself, but you quickly stumbled, holding onto the nearest thing beside you. Him.

"Hey, careful now, wouldn't want you hurting yourself." The red hair cooed, draping his arm over your side and pulling you against him, supporting your weight. You didn't protest, holding onto him aswell, barely conscious.

"I'm.. perfectly.. fine." You muttered out, almost to yourself than to him, before you allowed yourself to sleep it off, now that you knew you were safe. In his arms. In a way you absolutely despised. Yet loved at the same time.

And you woke up.

Again.

But this time, in a familiar place. The scent of your beloved cabin filling your nostrils, eyes squinted. A candle hung on your wall, spilling a dim, warm light onto the room. You didn't pay attention to how your previously dirty clothes were changed into a clean, fresh set.

And there he was. Because of course he was.

Sitting beside your bed, laid back on a chair ever so nonchalantly, like it was completely normal to watch your ex sleeping. Just another normal tuesday night.

You sat up abruptly, your bed-hair tousled from sleep, your calm, tired expression soon sharpening.

"What are you doing here ?!"

"..Uh, watching over you?" Shanks admitted sheepishly.

"Do I look like a dying victorian child?"

He held back a small laugh. "I wouldn't say that. Just thought you'd want company when you woke up, after what happened."

"Well, thanks, I'm perfectly fine by myself. You can go now."

"I think I'm good, I'll stay."

Silence.

..And more silence.

If you waited a bit longer, you'd hear crickets chirping in your ear.

He didn't leave, didn't even budge. Didn't even think or consider leaving.

And then a sigh came out of him. You were still actively avoiding his gaze like the plague.

"Listen.. Y/N. We can't keep running from this."

"From what?"

"From this conversation. From this.. whole thing going on."

"There's nothing going on, I thought it was clear that we're over."

"We're not —"

You suddenly interrupted him, raising your voice by just an octave.

"We are, Shanks. You know, I.. we both know it's just not gonna work, and you just proved my point."

He raised his hand in a surrendering gesture ; "I don't recall proving anything." He smirked.

You rubbed a hand over your face. You hated how aloof and casual he was, even now.

"You came to save me, that's also a risk."

"Come on, that doesn't count. They were just rookies."

"Well, what if they weren't ?! What if it was another emperor crew, or, or— an admiral, hell, I don't know, any high ranking figure." You stuttered, stumbling over your own words, still looking around everywhere but him.

You were scared, even if you wouldn't admit it, you were scared that just looking at him would break your entire resolve again; the one you spent weeks rebuilding. Because it would absolutely break again. It was still fragile as glass.

And when you didn't expect it, Shanks reached out comfortably, his warm hand resting under your chin, tilting your head ever so gently, not wanting to rattle you.

His earlier sheepish, cheeky grin, had disappeared. His expression softened into a warm smile. One you were too acquianted with.

"I'd fight them, too. Without hesitation. I'd fight the gods themselves for you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." The red hair spoke, his hair falling over his face just right, the dim light highlighting his sharp features and sun-tanned skin. Eyes lighting up and glinting lovingly at the sight of you.

It was unmistakable.

That look of love.

You knew he still loved you.

He knew you still loved him.

But that was exactly the problem.

Your lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but for a moment, nothing came out, until you gathered your thoughts, not wanting to say something stupid.

"That's.. that's exactly it, Shanks.. I don't want that. I don't want you to risk your life for me. I don't want you to get attached. I want you to live freely, as my captain." You muttered out, voice slightly shaky with unspoken feelings. You said what you had to. Not what you wanted to.

His hand trailed from your chin, to the side of your jaw, your cheek, then to the bangs on your face, gently pushing them behind your ear, soothing your hair back.

You didn't protest, at all. You didn't want to. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you did. You haven't felt his touch in what seemed like decades. Sending a warm, loving feeling to your chest.

And then, unexpectedly, he leaned in and whispered an ever so tender against your lips. Feather light, like he was afraid to scare you away. Yet passionate.

Silence reigned over the moment, until he reluctantly pulled away, looking at you with heavy lidded, loving eyes, his fingers never leaving your hair in the moment.

"If you think that'll get me to stop loving you, you ought to try harder, my dear." Shanks murmured in a deep, smooth voice. Barely above a whisper.

All you could do was stare at him, eyes wide in surprise, your ears warming up. A faint blush dusting your cheeks. Heart fluttering in your chest. You couldn't even think of anything to say.

"I'm not getting scared off. As a pirate, my life is always on the line. It's what we sign up for, isn't it." He trailed off, then continued;

"And as your captain, I order you to let me love you, hm?" Shanks cooed, the most soft spoken command. And possibly the best one you'd ever gotten to hear from him.

Maybe your resolve wasn't that important now. All you wanted right now, in this moment, was to pull him back in for a kiss you've been holding back for ever so long.

And that's exactly what you did.

Even he was slightly thrown off guard, but quickly melted into it. Fingers wandering to the back of your head, tangling in your hair and deepening the kiss, your arms hooked onto his neck like an anchor.

You leaned away, again. Letting your lips linger for a moment longer. You weren't avoiding his gaze anymore. You couldn't afford to. Like you were scared he'd disappear the moment you looked away.

"Guess we could've avoided all the hassle if we had this talk from the beginning, eh?" He chuckled in a low, lighthearted tone.

"..I wish you'd stop speaking sometimes."

"Ouch. Hurts my feelings." Shanks joked dramatically, putting a hand over his chest in mock pain.

"Stay that way."

From behind the door, you heard a loud crash, like someone fell. A specific someone, big enough to cause such a noise.

Then his voice blurted out ; "Move, I can't hear anything !!"

"Not my fault you're blocking the whole doorway!!" Yasopp's voice echoed right after his, before the door swung open from the weight of both of them leaning against it.

Beckman sighed, from a distance. But you could definitely hear it. If there was a bounty up for the most disappointed, and done man ever. He'd long have surpassed Roger, the king of the pirates himself.

"I told you that wouldn't end well." He sppke firmly.

Shanks only chuckled at the sight of them, while you just facepalmed, groaning into your hands like you'd wanted the earth to swallow you whole. Seeing that, Shanks shot them a singular glare, without another word. Didn't need words.

With that, they closed the door behind and left the room, running.

"..So I guess this makes us—"

"I love you too." You cut him off.

"..What am I supposed to say to that?" Shanks chuckled.

"I hate when you say it first because you keep repeating that you love me more even when I give up."

"Fair."

You stayed quiet for a moment, before reaching your hand towards his, locking your fingers together.. for the first time in weeks, aswell.

"You could.. always say it back."

The red hair gave you a cheeky smile, one that quickly warmed up as he squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your palm.

"Always love you more, Y/N."

Thus, the endless conflict ended. It wasn't such a failed romance after all. All you needed was a thorough talk, and maybe a bit of reassurance. Shanks would've gotten his way either way, because of course he would. He's Shanks. Unbeatable, undebatable, always got a solution for everything. But it's one of the things you liked most about that imbecile. A very loving imbecile.