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missbeckman · 1 month

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Give (in) and Take (me) - (Beckman x Reader)

Art by shibama_TK9

A/N: *Hasn’t completed a smut in weeks, comes back throwing a niche character at you to spread simpin for him like a virus* plz love him he’s great and while he ain’t my main I’d have nooooooo complaints in partaking 😩 tryin to give @fanaticsnail some morsels cuz the writing for this man is quite devastatingly scant. She also a whole sweetie and wrote me some perfect Buggy when she found out I was doing this. Obviously I am much slower 🥴🥴🥴

Word Count: ~8.7k

Warnings: fem!reader, NSFW, there’s some plot at the front and back, bratty reader, brat-tamer Beckman, he does the Nanami hair grab 👌🏻, semi-public, standing, against the wall, man-handling, clothed sex, p in v, creampie, praise, degredation, lots of teasing on both sides, age gap? (briefly mentioned, ~30 and late 40s), Beckman is a lil mean but don't worry he's Whipped, this some filth filth 🥴 whoops

Now please come enjoy prodding the big gruff man (who just wants to treat you right) until he snaps

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

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You’ve had enough of the raucous jubilation in the bar, especially now that you noticed your awaited opening unfolding before you. The rest of the Red Hair Pirates were fully distracted in their jovial whirling, hooting, and playing, leaving a certain silver smoke cloud all by his lonesome. You’d been dancing through his whisps all night, enjoying how they’d wrap and curl around you as you went. It was in their nature to do so. Each brush of a hand got a shiver and a sigh and a trailing stare. Each floated conversation was leaned into, breathed in, savored. Each departure was followed with the turn and lean of his chest, pulled to follow from the sure grip on his thumping heart until his doubts rooted him down and resisted the tug.

You were plagued by your own doubts, mostly of what the “after” would look like, but you were certain of one thing: he was attracted. Along with his need to entwine with your presence, you’d noticed the tell-tale sign of his gaze drawn to lips, neck, breasts, hips, and thighs. You’d noticed the hunger growing his pupils so they could better suck in your image on each glance. You’d noticed how he had to keep flicking his tongue out to wet his lips, mouth dry from restrained need. Most importantly, you’d noticed the way he had to shift and shuffle while he watched you dance, fighting the need to pull you away for himself to join and trying to flush the heat from his body. Whatever it was that was holding him in his seat and keeping his hands and lips and tongue off of you, you were going to drag him right through it until he was fully in your grasp.

First thing’s first, you retook your spot on the stool next to him at the bar. Immediately the smoke tendrils embraced you; your drink was scooted back in front of you, his thigh slid sideways to seek the brush of yours, a lethargic smile took residence on his face to greet you. You responded with a coy smile of your own and then a hearty gulp of your drink. The steady burn and potent taste of liquorice cutting through the muddled mint and lemon centered you and heartened you for your plan of attack.

“Thanks, Becks, glad to have you as my cocktail guard dog,” you said with teasing humor. You gave his thigh a friendly pat that crossed the amicable boundary with a lingering hold and gentle squeeze, before you brought the hand back up to give you another sip of your drink. The taste of touch on his thick muscle had it twitch in delight. Your mouth watered at the feel, not quite sated with alcohol on your tongue when there should be skin.

“Any time, darlin’,” Beckman responded easily and honestly. “Though I don’t think there’s any here who would do much to it. Much more likely one of the fools will steal it to drink for themselves.”

You laughed at the statement, knowing how true it was. When the crew was drunk they got sticky fingers, and when it came to drinks they were the worst - none quite remembering whose was whose and caring even less to get it right. Knowing where you wanted to try and get this night to go, you’d kept yourself far behind them in intoxication. You kept yourself right in the sweet spot of inebriated enough for that coveted liquid courage but not so much that you were out of control of yourself. Besides, if you got your way you didn’t want any of the details to be foggy.

“Even so, it’s appreciated,” you reasserted, giving him a winning smile and stalling his heart. “Now can I ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course you can, darlin’,” he replied instantly. Another cheer rang out in the background, followed by the beginnings of a long and loud drinking song. Beckman used this as an excuse to lean into your space to better hear and see you. “What can I do for you?”

You centered yourself more forward towards the bar, just to force him to lean in even closer to chase you, and peeked at him from the corner of your eye. The look mixed with your mischievous smile had him ready and eager to agree to whatever you had in mind. Not that he’d let you see how easy it was for you to sway him.

“Well…” you trailed off, just to make him squirm, “I can think of lots of things you could do for me. I’m having trouble picking my favorite.”

Beckman’s brows rose at the blatant flirting. Sure, you’d both thrown some flirtatious comments at each other throughout your relationship, but they didn’t feel anything like this. They felt easy, friendly - like something to build rapport and have fun. This felt so much heavier - a gift offered to him that was pulling the possibility of closeness from cloudy dreams down to the ground with the weight of the warm cast of the bar lights, the dark desire in your eyes, and the sultry tone of your voice. He began to recount how many drinks he’d had to check if he was imagining the advances he’d long wished for. Maybe he should check for you too.

“Darlin’, how many drinks you got in you?” There was genuine concern in the question, mixing with a touch of incredulity. You scoffed at it all.

“Not enough to lose my sense, thank you very much,” you answered. To snub his misplaced worries, you downed the rest of your drink. “That was only the fifth of the night, we’ve been here hours, and you know it takes much more than that to take me down.”

“That it does,” Beckmann conceded. The bare affection in his voice and eyes while he said it had you flushing, finding care much more difficult to process than lust. “Now my task?”

Yet again, you took to keeping him in suspense. Instead of answering, you slowly drew your gaze over him, assessing him. He fought against the small shiver it put through him; he felt like you were staring straight through his clothes. He felt like he was getting the most important appraisal of his life and all he had to go on was the burning in your eyes and your cryptic smile. You were doing a better job of reading him; while his expression remained perfectly schooled, you were observant enough to see his tells. Just as when he watched you dance, he shifted in his seat, working through the flush of arousal poured on him from his nervousness and having your eyes glued to him. Between the curtains of his wavy silver hair, you saw his Adam's apple bob with a strong swallow. He started lightly drumming on the bartop with his fingers on the hand closest to you.

Using that to your advantage, you made your next move. Doing it slowly so he could layer each second with his anticipation, you trailed your fingertips across the knuckles of his fidgeting hand, halting the motion. You flicked your gaze up to check in on his eyes. They mostly held confusion, but so so much interest was also packed into his silver irises. Happy with the reaction, you proceeded to move your teasing touch further, traveling over the back of his hand and his wrist to play with the soft hair on his forearm in deliberate circles. Though he was nearly bursting with questions, Beckman kept his mouth shut and resolved to let you lead this at your own pace until you finally decided it was time to reveal your hand to him.

“I’ve decided,” you started, finally breaking the silence with an alluring whisper, “that I want more than one favor.” You stopped watching your fingers touch him to look at him through your lashes. “And I know where you can start.”

Beckman blew out a long breath, hoping to settle down his heart, which was still jumping and kicking. You’re not drunk, but this has to be the alcohol. You couldn’t be propositioning him. Him. Maybe he’s just a curiosity? Perhaps you were interested in trying out an experience with an older lover who’s had more years to learn his way around a woman? Maybe, even though you could have your choice of any of the patrons, you found him to be the easy target.

“And where is that?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

“You can take me home.” You noticed the real shock in his gaze, and for the first time in the encounter a bit of panic seeped into you. Thinking quickly to soften the blow, you explained, “Don’t wanna walk home alone with even a little alcohol in me, and I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Aye, darlin’, that I will.” The honesty in his words stoked your courage back into a steady burn even better than the one brought on by the hard drinks.

Using the hand that had been trailing over his forearm, you loosely held his wrist, slid smoothly from your seat, and began leading him out of the bar. Beckman followed you easily. You didn’t have to put any pressure behind your hold on him; he wouldn’t let you get more than a step ahead of him. Even with his close hover, you both ducked and weaved with practiced grace through the chaos of your crew and the rowdy celebration they’d whipped up with all the other patrons. By the time you’d reached the entrance, you’d ducked three swinging fists, five drunken “dances”, two frisbeed hats, one flung fork, and a pair of tossed shirts.

The door shutting behind you sealed away the cacophony of the crowd, melding it with the comforting ambience of late night bugsong and strangers distantly living their lives. The outside world felt pleasantly chill and calm, especially in contrast to the atmosphere of the bar. The slight bite to the air only made the small contact between the two of you feel that much sweeter in its skin-to-skin warmth. Both you and Beckman sucked in a deep breath of crisp evening air to savor the moment.

Throwing a cheeky (and, to his worry, slightly plotting) smile his way, you began to head in the direction of the docks. You only made it about eight steps. The moment the alley between buildings opened on your right, you yanked Beckman into the shadows with you. He stumbled after you with barely a fight, continuing his emotional flavors of the night: confused, intrigued, and happy to be here. Once you fell past the full streams of light from the street lamps, you spun around to him and pounced.

You began by rooting him in place, fisting your hands tight into his shirt by his waist and stepping so close that your chests and stomachs and hips and thighs touched. You leaned up to place a kiss right above the point in his v-neck, relishing the heat of his skin against your lips. You shivered at the feeling of a twitch of interest against your lower stomach. His hands quickly found your waist and gripped. He worried the flesh under his fingers, earning his first quiet moan from you. It only made his grip stiffen, warring with himself between his disbelief at your advances and the rabid need to pull you closer and make sure you never stopped.

Beckman began to use his hold on you to ease you back from him. You responded with a frustrated whine and greedy hands. Those hands massaged their way across the packed muscles of his sides and chest before twisting in the fabric over his large pecs and tugging him down to your height. Taking advantage of the untouched skin now within reach, you kissed and sucked your way over his collarbone and up his neck.

His plan of retreat crumbled under your advance, leaving him to paw his grip down to the meat of your hips and try not to succumb to the fierce instinct to grind his aching cock against you. Your head spun with your rushing blood and skipping breaths. The whirl was spurred on by finally getting to know the taste of his skin, the feeling of his coveting hands keeping you close, the sound of his stuttering breaths morphing into panting. Now you just needed to spur him from receiving into action.

“Beck, touch me,” you whispered against his ear. He shivered fully from your lips and breath ghosting over him and filling his skin with addictive tingles. Losing his concentration, Beckman guided your hips in one long, sturdy grind against his straining hardness. You nipped his earlobe in appreciation. “I want you to touch me.”

“You’re drunk,” he weakly protested.

“We both know I’m not,” you shot back. Switching your methods, you crawled your hands up his shoulders, his neck, and into his hair. You led him with sweet and teasing kisses against his cheek and jaw, playing with the way his head always tilted to follow your affections in a wanting daze.

“You should look for another man to share your body,” he tried again, this time managing to sound assertive through the breathiness of his voice.

“Do you really want another man touching me?” you bit back at him.

“No,” he instantly growled. The mere idea had always put a pang in his heart but feeling your touch and hearing the words from you made it more real, and he was no match for the spike of angry possessiveness that overtook him.

“Good,” you cooed coyly, lips back against his ear, “because I don’t want that either.” You took a long moment to tease your nails against his scalp and nip the skin next to his pulse. He succumbed to another torturous grind against you. Each press of him gave you a better idea of what he was hiding and had your mind running rampant trying to figure out how it would feel splitting you open.

“I want you,” you moaned, pushing all the genuine need into your voice that you could.

“Come on, pretty thing, you don’t mean that,” Beckman stubbornly argued. He’d sound much more convincing if he wasn’t moaning the words out with his strained rumble, turning the statement into a plea.

“I do though,” you whined back to him, right below his ear where you were working hard to leave another pretty mark. For all his propriety fueled hesitation, Beckman was still leaning down so you could reach his neck and tilting his stubbled jaw away, pleading for more of your attention. “I do mean it.”

Your own desperation and his unspoken pleas for your touch fueled your boldness. One of your hands left his tresses to wedge between your pressed hips and grab a hold of him. A groan shook through his ribs, only encouraging your hand to press and feel more. His cock twitched and jumped under your slow strokes and palming, begging for your touch when he wouldn’t. His cheek fell to your shoulder and his humid panting caressed your neck.

“Pretty girl, if you keep touching me like that,” his speech was interrupted by a poorly restrained moan, “I’m not gonna be able to keep my head.”

“Then don’t,” you encouraged, voice rushed and ravenous and pulling him to the depths of his urges in his new favorite siren song.

Having felt him in your palm, you became set on getting to feel him skin to skin. You wanted to feel the power of the radiant heat that poured from him so strongly you both felt like you were burning through your clothes. You wanted to see what’s been hidden from you, become privy to secrets that will let your fantasies forever hold more reality. You wanted to know he let you have this piece of him, let you take his body and take control of his pleasure. On top of all of that, you wanted to feel, see, and know the thick hardness that was going to stretch you wide open.

In your rush, you only gave yourself time to trail a few kisses down his chest on your way to your knees. Beckman leaned himself back on the wall of the bar, opening himself up to as much of your touch as you would give. He still attempted to keep his defense under the siege of temptation, taking to opening and closing his hands at his sides to keep them from manhandling you. He wasn’t strong enough, however, to push you away. Each touch of yours was teasing him with the heaven he’d been dreaming of finding under your hands and in your body. Now having had a taste of your touch, It’d take nothing short of a gun to the head for him to break from anything you were willing to give. Doesn’t mean he won’t try to steer it so you’re taken care of the way he wants you to be.

He looked down at you, hypnotized by the radiant image of you and your styled hair and your decorated lashes and your smudged lipstick actually kissing him, treating him with the desire he thought impossible. His eyes had long adjusted to the darkness of the alley, blessedly letting him take in this image to hoard forever.

As your knees hit the dirt path, it hit him - alley. You were getting yourself dirty to touch him, basically in public in your rush, stuck in a location with only hard ground and stone walls for comfort. The realization had his cock throb hard, getting an eager moan from you where you were kissing along his length while your fingers made their way under his sash to find the waistline of his trousers. Fuck, this was a dream. It was a dream, but not the one he wanted for you where he takes his time worshiping every inch of skin, treating you like royalty, going slow so when he makes you cum it shakes you from toes to fingertips to the crown of your head-

“Darlin’, you deserve better than some back alley fu-”

“What I deserve is you; now let me have you,” you grumbled back to him, nosing his sash up so you could leave kisses and nips right above the hem of his pants. You inched them lower and lower, following their descent with your hungry mouth and savoring every new speck of skin you could. You got past the ridge of his adonis belt when you realized he had nothing on underneath them, making your mouth water with ever more anticipation. You could tell from the tenseness in his muscles, the tremors in his thighs under your clawing grip, that he was at the end of his rope. Centering a kiss on his happy trail, you looked straight up into his eyes and ordered, “Now fuck me.”

You were just about to get his pants low enough to let his painfully hard cock out to greet with a kiss when an angry hand took hold of the hair at the back of your head. It clamped in a fist and turned, taking absolute control of you. White hot adrenaline poured through your body, bursting fresh with each hard pound of your heart and stuttering your every breath. That iron grip jerked back, forcing you to crane your head back with it and look up at the imposing bulk of Beckman looming over at you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he growled dangerously, leering down at you with a growing scowl. Steadily he curled himself down until his nose bumped yours and you were sure you could see how the lighting and lust had turned his eyes from shining silver to dark stone. The light pulsing in your scalp was no match for the shadowed face and piercing eyes of Beckman taking over your every thought and dragging your heartbeat low to drum between your legs. “Fine. I’ll fuck you like the slut you’re set on being.”

“I’ll happily be a slut if it's for you,” you breathed out before you could think, sounding nearly in a trance from his sudden dominant behavior.

The declaration had his cock jumping and his knees weak.

“Darlin’,” he moaned, voice stretched thin by his taut, straining need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He surged down, stealing your lips in a bruising kiss, using his hold on your hair to control every tilt and press. Right away, you opened to each other, exploring the flavor of each other’s tongues and indulging in the tingles brought on by sliding the slick muscles over each other. You shivered and moaned when he flicked the point of his tongue on the roof of your mouth and he swallowed the sound down greedily. Never breaking his claim on your lips, Beckman hauled you up to your feet. The action set a pleasant burn on your scalp as you chase the pull of his grip. Your hands went back to work on getting his cock free, but he snatched them up.

“No,” he rumbled against your lips. “You’re just going to take what I give you.”

“Beckman,” you whined back to him between your continued fervent kisses, “let me touch you.”

“Sluts don’t make demands,” he snapped in a bitter taunt. Using his height to his advantage, he pulled out of the reach of your lips. He was still able to lean down over you and keep distance, forcing you to keep your head craned back with his fist in your hair and his gaze holding you hostage. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I want you,” you moaned in complaint. Though your voice was warbly with want, your tone was way too petulant to be considered begging. Even so, it was testing his resolve.

“You’ll have me,” he answered gruffly.

Before you could realize what was happening, you were flipped around and swapped, now facing the rough wall of the bar with Beckman right behind you. He had released your hair so he could trap each of your wrists to your sides. He kicked your feet to spread with heavy boots and settled eagerly against your ass. He anchored you against him by pulling on your wrists, keeping you trapped against his grinding hips. The height difference had him centered at the level of your tailbone. The feeling of having you against his cock was overwhelming, especially with the plush of your ass massaging at his sensitive balls. Quiet grunts accompanied each circle of his hips, always carried with the erotic sound of his heavy breaths.

You tilted forward and arched your hips up, seeking attention against your weeping entrance and swollen clit. The change had his dick nestle between your cheeks, the base of his cock and his tense balls giving you a small piece of the pleasure you were seeking. He stood just barely too tall for them to give any attention to your clit, causing you to shift and shimmy back into him in search of more. Despite the lack of direct stimulation, your body was still in a pleasant buzz; he felt large and heavy and hot against you and your mind was swimming in joy at how hard you made him. The open-mouthed groan you earned from him with your squirming shot enough pleasure through you to have your clit pulsing.

“On your toes, slut,” he ordered.

You listened without thinking about it and were rewarded with the new height lining him up much better to grind against everywhere you wanted him. Well - almost everywhere. Most of all you ached for him to massage you inside out, rub and dig into every slick plush space you could offer. Despite the burn already entering your calves, you tilted your ass up even higher to feel any extra speck of friction you could get from him.

Beckman’s grip on your hips was commanding, he owned your every sway and grind of your clothed cunt and ass against him. The skirt you were wearing was beginning to ride up with each thrust, exposing inch after inch of fresh skin to his hungry eyes. Both of you thanked your choice of garment as he used one hand to shove it up and over your perked ass to hang limply around your waist. It swayed and brushed your legs with each continued motion, hypnotizing Beckman for a moment.

That moment was broken when he instead looked at your ass, smooshed high and round with each grind, your underwear cutting sinful lines across the muscle, making your skin pop around the tension in the most mouth-watering way. It had Beckman moaning from deep in his chest again and thanking whatever lucky stars he had that let him have you in front of him like this. The sight mixed with the new heat from being just that much closer to getting to your bare cunt had a flurry of possessiveness and need overcome him. He nearly bowed forward to the strength of it, but fought the call so he could keep watching your body writhe against him.

You had no doubt you were sopping wet, more than enough to make his slide in slick. Each grind of him against you had your soaked panties dragging with him, causing sharp friction that was just on the right side of too much. You wondered faintly if you were getting his pants wet too, wishing you could easily turn and see to find out. You wouldn’t have been disappointed; a steady dark spot had built on his crotch from a mix of your leaking pussy and his weeping cock. You had gotten him dripping pre-cum the moment you began kissing down his chest. It had only gotten worse with each touch, his body desperate and ready to be inside you.

Suddenly, one of his hands and his hips disappeared from you, leaving you feeling lost. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a whining moan at the loss, sounding fucked out and pathetic without either of you truly being touched yet. The small coherent part of yourself marveled at the number he had done on you.

“Don’t you worry, pretty thing,” Beckman grumbled, half placating and half condescending. The sound of shuffling fabric clued you in to his missing hand’s task. “I’ll give you just what you need.”

His large fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear, guiding them over your ass until they fell down. Your slightly spread legs had them catch on your thighs and Beckman huffed at the inconvenience.

“Stay right there,” he rumbled in warning as he crouched down. He dragged the soaked cloth the rest of the way off, guiding you with gentle cues. The slide of his fingertips down your legs sent tingles across your skin, but the delicate hold he put on each ankle to ease them out of the garment had your heart thumping. In this process his touch switched from tyrannical to reverent, making your mind sing with hope. That song only hit a great crescendo when he peppered the backs of your thighs with sweet and slow kisses.

As he rose back up and shoved the ruined cloth in his pocket, Beckman broke you both out of his worshiping trance by giving a playful and slightly mean nip to your left hip. You let out a little yelp despite yourself and he chuckled at the reaction, finding it absurdly cute. You shivered again at the throaty sound, nerves too easily tweaked from your potent anticipation. It only got worse when his hips found yours again.

Both of you moaned at the feeling of finally meeting skin to skin, immediately addicted to the wet heat and heady throb of each other. You sent your hips high with renewed vigor, spurred on by the need to chase more of the feeling of his thick cock against you. You were right about him being thick and long; his grinds spread your folds wide, exposing your entrance and clit to the sweet friction, and he laid across the length of your pelvis. It let him see the leaking red head of his cock peeking out from between your cheeks, the filthy image making his eyes roll back and an involuntary moan of “fuck, darlin’” growl out of him.

Beckman hooked his right arm around your front, nestling it as close to the tops of your thighs as he could get. It let him use your hip bones for stability in his hold, saving you from your weight crushing the limb into your stomach. The anticipation of feeling your legs bounce against his arm while he fucks you had him salivating.

He curled his arm, pulling your lower back flush to his abs. It made him take your weight, the toes of your shoes just barely scuffing the ground when you pointed them. You’d seen his insane strength before, but feeling it used on you had your body lighting on fire along with your cheering mind. Beckman’s other hand slid from your hip down and in on your thigh, spreading and lifting your leg until he was holding the inside of your knee out to the side. It left your cunt exposed to him, each grind of his further mixing your arousal with the pre-cum spreading down his cock.

“Hold that wall and keep your voice down,” Beckman instructed, “Unless you’re such a whore you need an audience.”

You let out a complaining moan at the harsh words but still writhed eagerly against him, unable to deny how they had you fluttering in anticipation. Your hands found purchase on the stone wall in front of you, giving you a sense of balance and security in your barely supported upper body. You were close to it so your arms were bent, allowing you strength and leverage. The force behind his grinds had you sure you’d need it.

Slowly and deliberately, Beckman slid his cock from root to tip between your slick folds, threatening you with his impressive length while he made sure he was properly coated. He only stalled the movement when his thick tip found its way down to your entrance. Unable to help himself, he ground a tight circle around it, groaning out a deep “fuck” at the feeling of your cunt trying its best to suck him in. You let out another keening moan, sounding vaguely like “please”, at the realization that his head was the perfect width to stretch you out right to the edge of your limits.

Angling his hips just right, Beckman followed the catch of your entrance to start forcing his way into you. You were right about the size of him; only his mushroomed tip was in and you already felt like your hips were being pressed wider. His achingly slow sink into you let you both feel every overwhelming bit of contact, every delicious rub of soaked skin on skin. Your mouth hung open, letting out appreciative moans, even though your attempts to hold them back left them clipped and jumbled.

Beckman had to shut his eyes and scrunch his brow to handle all the sensations flooding him. You felt so goddamn perfect wrapped around him. He felt somewhere in his being that you were made to be here with each other and force bliss from your pounding hearts and bodies. He finally fell to the call to curl as close to you as possible, his temple rested on yours, his stubble teasing your cheek, and stray gray hairs sweeping down to tickle your skin.

“So, so good, darlin’,” he praised breathlessly. He made it another inch into you, offering your cunt more firm flesh to clamp down on. “You feel better than a dream -nnngh- got the perfect pussy for me.”

An unrestrained moan tumbled past your lips at his praise, brain too empty and body too happy to care about anything anymore other than him and the feelings he brought out in you. The cheering and music from the bar was loud enough to lightly leak through the walls, so you wouldn’t have worried too much about attracting attention anyway.

He hadn’t prepped you any, but the abundant arousal sitting in your body so long loosened you up and made sure there was more than enough lubrication for him, especially with the addition of his own. His torturously slow press into you helped your body make room for him too. In fact, your pussy was so eager to open for him he felt like your walls were trying to suck him in quicker as they quaked and trembled around him. It made it near impossible to resist the urge to shove as deep into you as he could go, needing the hot grip of you around his aching cock and the pleasure of your plush ass and thighs pressed tight against his hips.

When he finally got there, you were both shaking and gasping. Your head felt light with the amount of bliss swimming through you at finally having him like this, held tightly in you while you shared your bodies. It also helped that he had you feeling so deliciously full; the press of him was potent enough to spread through your sides and up through your chest. It was the biggest stretch you’d taken but his size was just perfect, like he was built just to fit you and you him. The weight of his thick cock rested down towards your stomach, primed to massage your every favorite nerve.

“Just like that, darlin’,” Beckman groaned, starting his first pull back out of you. He continued with his slow speed to make you feel every ridge and vein in detail. Your favorite was the rim of his head dragging across your swollen walls. He sat that head just within your entrance and paused. “Bein’ such a good little slut.”

Right at the end of his praise, he shoved forward to fully sheathe himself back in you. The force of the thrust pressed the air from your lungs, creating a breathy moan, and gave you a taste of pleasure that had you certain that no matter how long he fucked you, you’d always want more of this potent bliss. You could live like this, fucked the rest of your life, just so long as he never stopped taking and touching you. He continued the strong and steady pace, needing to savor every second in your cunt, memorize every twitch and flutter. It had you whining, mind fraying under the threat of how much more he could give you.

“Beckman,” you moaned in frustration. “Give me more, I -ahhh- I need it.”

A punishing thrust had you feel him in your throat and your eyes rolled back in time with your high pitched moan. That moan turned into a rough whine when he stayed sat fully inside you instead of continuing. To tease you further, he began tight circles against you, making his pulsing cock play with every inch of your cunt, earning him a tight clench from you. This tantalizing rub continued as he moved to nip at your ear lobe.

“What did I say about making demands,” he warned, rumbling the words right against your ear. The puffs of his breaths shot goose bumps up your neck. He tilted his head down to tease his teeth over the flesh and continued his maddening little circles against you. With one leg trapped in his grip and the other barely reaching the ground, you had almost no leverage to work yourself back against him. Your abs burned with the effort as you tried to use your grip on the wall to stabilize yourself and grind back, but his iron grip was much stronger than any of your attempts.

You sobbed out a few needy moans at his continued meticulous playing with your body. Though you wanted so much more right away, that steady press of him waking up every inch of your insides was starting to build a pit deeper in your stomach than the one you were used to. Your mouth watered at the thought of what a full body high it could bring you but it felt so far away and you wanted to be smothered in pleasure now.

“Beckman,” you whined out, catching the way it made his breath hitch over your skin. “More, harder.”

Nothing changed and you were stuck spread open and suspended and at the mercy of his whims. It was the most deliciously frustrating thing you’d ever experienced, being forced to take the slow treatment. It made your body and mind agonize over every little sensation, every pulse and throb, every inch of you he reached that you’d never felt before. It made your ears take in the obscene sound of the little motions of his cock pushing drop after drop of your arousal out of your entrance to drip down his balls and your thigh. You flushed at how graphic it sounded, ears, face, and neck burning, especially with your combined heavy breaths and mixed moans and groans.

“You’re gonna have to try much harder than that, pretty little thing,” he goaded. You could hear the taunting condescension in his voice and you cursed the fact that it made your pussy spasm around him. The twitch of his cock that it earned inside you swelled your desperation to feel more from him until it swallowed your pride whole.

“Please,” you gasped, near truly sobbing in need. “Pleeeeease, fuck me harder, Beck, fuck me faster, please, just -hhhah- just need more.”

Beckman sucked harshly on your neck and set about answering your pleas. He changed right to fucking you fast and hard, making you yelp at the immediate flood of sensation. Your thigh and hips jumped in his grasp as you tried to take the onslaught. Every nerve in your pussy burned in the most beautiful way, emptying your head of any thoughts other than Beckman working your body into a quick frenzy. His teeth, lips, and tongue were decorating the sensitive skin of your neck; his hands and arm were clamped, making you feel blessedly trapped; his torso hovered on the back of yours, giving you brushes of his hard working muscles in motion; and his cock - his perfect cock - was bullying you open over and over and lighting every quaking inch of you ablaze.

Through your panting breaths and scattered moans, you could hear the wet slap of his hips against you, each impact making a little more arousal gush out of you. Being spread as you were also let his heavy balls tap against your clit with each hard thrust, ensuring every wired part of your pussy was seen to. You could barely form words but you were sure he caught the slurred praises you sent his way from how he echoed them back and kept adding more and more heat, pressure, grind, suck, and drag on you at your breathless moaning.

Stuck on the start of the encounter, he kept repeating a favored phrase to you - “So good, darlin’, such a good fucking slut”.

“Your slut,” you panted, “only -hnngh- yours.”

The pledge of ownership had his eyes rolling back and his mouth more ravenous against your skin. He needed to keep you locked to him forever, be on your skin forever, brand you as his, and have you mark him as yours.

“That’s right, darlin’,” he rasped, “only mine.”

He dropped your suspended thigh in favor of sinking a bruising grip into your hip. Your thighs clapped together with a wet smack, forcing a yelp from you as it jolted your clit. He placed an apologetic kiss on your shoulder and got right back to his tempo. The deep pressure he’d built with his deliberate grinding was now added to by every thrust, creating a shaking warning of the orgasm to come that sat from hip to hip and up to your ribs. It felt like he was fucking you just as deep, each drive of his cock seeming to replace the beating of your heart in your chest.

The new dancing on your toes had your calves, thighs, and abs working in sporadic clenches and twitches, the jerks and shifts causing pulses around your clit and into your trembling cunt. The new position made him feel all the wider as it let your labia relax around him and light up with delicious friction on each thrust in and pull out. The squeeze of your legs and muscles also put constant pressure on your clit, which Beckman would jostle with each forceful fuck into you.

All of it was getting to be too much and you were happily drowning under the rising tide of that threatening orgasm. It was swimming through your body so thoroughly you were sure you could feel each strong thrust pull pleasure from your very bones. Every piece of you that lived between your hips felt blinding white hot and pulsing and alive and so so very good.

The cherry on top of your euphoria were the pieces of the feeling you could hear echoed in Beckman. His voice was deep and groaning but also strained and fucked out as it whispered dark praises against your neck and shoulder. His breath was ragged and just as desperate as his touch, which was trying its best to permanently attach to your skin. His aching cock was just as responsive as your trembling pussy, dripping and twitching and jumping with each move and touch of your body.

Responding to the telling grip of your cunt clamping down constantly around him, Beckman slowed his pace slightly, focusing instead on the strength of each thrust and keeping his angle just right to drag you to your end. It accented the sound of each strong clap of his hips into yours and brought back clarity to the feeling of his thick cock spearing you. Your mouth hung open, panting and watering from the change of pace and unending pound and pull of him fucking your cunt into the shape of him.

“Beckman, Beckman, Beckman -ahh!- so cloooose,” you cried, voice thin and desperate. He cursed and moaned in response, the sound of you nearly making him lose himself and cum before you. He kept his pace pounding into you, each firm fuck lighting up your tightening walls and bouncing through your swollen folds and thighs to drum on your clit. Your head was swimming; despite your fast and canting breaths, you felt like you couldn't breathe, the air escaping you with each thrust beating a needy moan from your open mouth. The burn for oxygen only added to the tightly wound pleasure gripping you from throat to cunt, clawing tightest from your hips in, held steady between his sturdy hands.

Your toes and fingers tingled numbly in anticipation and shook just like the rest of you. Instinct tilted your hips just a degree higher, letting the tip of his dick tap just so against your cervix, ramping the overwhelming build even higher than you thought possible. Your moans yelped out sharper and higher amid sobs of “don’t stop, don’t stop, pleeeeease”, making Beckman groan and curse in his own mind-numbing arousal and frantic fight not to cum first.

A few more thrusts blazing across your cunt and shaking deep in your gut had the tension finally burst. You felt it first in the shot of electricity from your clit down to your toes and up to your buzzing head, before the tight pulse of your muscles took over everything. You writhed and shook against Beckman as he held you like a lifeline, trying desperately to fuck you through every second of heaven you could feel instead of following you over the edge. Each jerk and clench of your body gave you more and more bliss, the squeeze of you so tight and sure that it felt like there was only room for Beckman’s large cock in your body.

He couldn’t manage to pull even an inch out of your cunt, too weak to deny himself the bliss of feeling you cum, so he guided you through with shallow but heavy thrusts. Each tap on your cervix swelled you more and more until you weren’t sure if you had already cum or there was something else building on the other side of this endless screaming song in your nerves. Your answer came with the feeling of a snap that switched your cunt from long pulses into frantic milking down on Beckman’s jolting cock. Each squeeze was powerful enough to cause a full jerk and shudder of your hips, having you slip and grind in Beckman’s clawing hold on your hips.

“Fuck, darlin’, sweetheart, fu-uuuck, you’re too good, too much -ngah!- so goddamn perfect,” Beckman moaned out a stream of mindless praises while he shoved his forehead into the side of your neck, your only anchor in the torrent of sensation ripping through your body. After an eternity, your muscles and nerves began to relax, leaving your body feeling limp and heavy in the wake of your pleasure. You were positive nothing worked anymore except for your clit and cunt, both still drooling and twitching over Beckman’s shallow thrusts. You were thankful your closed legs kept the attention from overstimulating you fully. Beckam felt your body relax, getting an addicting sense of pride from fucking you into a limp puddle, and finally took to chasing his own pleasure.

“Need to see you,” he gasped, flipping you around and desperately pressing his twitching cock back into you. He shuddered at the relief, feeling ravenous and untethered every second he couldn’t be inside you. All his sanity was now held in the taste of your skin, the pleasure in your voice, and the sweet clench of your plush cunt. Pressing your foreheads together, he made it impossible to look anywhere but at each other. Even in the low light that managed to sneak between the buildings with you, Beckman’s silver eyes glowed while taking you in. The color looked sharper pressed thin by his lust-blown pupils and you were hypnotized as his gaze swallowed you whole.

Seeing the needy scrunch of his brows and the way he switched back and forth between clenching his jaw and hanging his mouth open to moan freely sent fresh sparks straight down to your clit. Having your legs spread around him had his racing thrusts teetering you on the edge of overstimulation, but it was well worth the sight and feeling of him rabidly chasing down his pleasure in your cunt. He was mindless and rutting in his need, enjoying your sopping heat contrasting with your nails scrabbling for purchase on his broad shoulders. The hug of your thighs around his waist kept him close and added to the wondrously tight clench of you that seemed to spread over his whole body. He was so, so close he just needed one little nudge.

“Beckman, please, need you -hahhn- need you to cum in me,” you begged, tone broken from all your moaning.

He was kicked right over the edge, barking out a deep “fuck” at the power of the orgasm shredding through him. He jerked his lips down to yours, holding you in an open mouthed kiss full of tongue and teeth and groans. He shoved himself as close as he could get to you, trapping you near painfully tight against the stone wall with his pressing bulk, demanding lips, and throbbing cock. His dick jumped hard with each pump of hot sticky cum deep in your cunt. It warmed you inside out and mixed with the heady knowledge that you’d completely unraveled this imposing man to unexpectedly drag you into a milder orgasm of your own. Each heavy jerk of him helped guide you through your own bliss, bodies working in perfect synch to have every pump answered with a coaxing squeeze. It kept you both suspended in your mindless heaven until you’d wrung every bit of pleasure from each other that your bodies could possibly give.

Beckman was certain that you’d sucked his very soul from him if the numb and clumsy feeling of his body was anything to go by. It wasn’t ready to listen to him, acting like it belonged to someone else and he supposed that was true; it was yours now. You’d held his heart a long time and his mind even longer, so it was only fitting that you owned his body too.

You didn’t seem to be doing much better with being in charge of your body, eyes half-lidded and lashes fluttering against the need to close. You were a vision - your foggy and affectionate gaze glued to him from under dark lashes, the flush tinting your sweat-damp skin, your lips parted and kiss-swollen, hair a wild crown around your head, decorating your face with stray strands. He studied and admired the image of you fucked-out and languid with eagerness and reverence. You were doing much the same, enjoying his mussed silver waves of soft locks, his gently shining eyes, the hints of red on the apples of his cheeks and his chest, the heavy rise and fall of his sculpted shoulders as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of a drinking song spiking high in volume snuck through the wall and shattered your illusion of privacy. You were both suddenly back against the side of the bar instead of whatever pocket world you had carved out for just yourselves. Beckman continued to hold you steady as he slowly let your tired legs down, your skirt following after to hang back in place. Your legs shook under you like it was your first time standing and you laughed at their clumsiness. Beckman cracked a loving smile at you, stealing your breath and halting your chuckles. Again the melody within the bar seeped out to you clearly and you laughed even louder this time when you recognized one of Shanks’ favorite tunes. While he tucked himself away, Beckman raised a brow at your cackling until he recognized the song too and added his own gentle laughter to yours.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you fought to sing along properly through your bubbling giggles.

“I took that lass and smacked her ass

Said darlin you’re comin’ with me”

He took your hips and pulled you to him, guiding you in the closest to a swaying dance that your uncooperative legs would allow. He quietly joined you on the next lines, treating you to the deep and raspy parts of his voice that lived in his chest.

“Ain’t got a hall but we’ll use the wall

Just give me an hour or three”

“What do you say, darlin’?” Beckman asked with humor dancing in the light reflections in his eyes. There was a seriousness underlying his tone in his next question, however. “Willing to give me a few more hours?”

You gave him a sweet smile but turned it coy, your attitude sneaking back as your mind stabilized. “You’ve got one to convince me to keep you.”

Beckman huffed out a laugh at your bite coming back and leaned down to kiss your forehead affectionately. He took a moment to rest his cheek atop your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, delicately tinged with a touch of sweat and sex. It had him shiver and start to twitch back to life. Slowly, he trailed kisses from the top of your head to the tip of your ear. His warm breath made you shiver and begin to heat again as well.

“Sweet darlin’,” Beckman mumbled, lips tickling the rim of your ear, “I’ll have you back to begging for me in half the time. Gotta show you that I don’t just know how to fuck; I can worship.”

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missbeckman · 2 months

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@maaboodoofuuuu

For my smut writers, enjoy! Please, tag me

#benn beckman x y/n #ben beckman #op benn smut #benn x reader x shanks #shanks smut

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missbeckman · 2 months

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Yes!

I'm writing a Benn Beckman X f!Reader fic of +5000 words and I'm dying to upload it!!! ☠️ 💕 🚬

I didn't remember how fun it was to write.

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missbeckman · 2 months

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missbeckman · 2 months

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Give (in) and Take (me) - (Beckman x Reader)

Art by shibama_TK9

Word Count: ~8.7k

Now please come enjoy prodding the big gruff man (who just wants to treat you right) until he snaps

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Even so, it’s appreciated,” you reasserted, giving him a winning smile and stalling his heart. “Now can I ask another favor of you?”

“Well…” you trailed off, just to make him squirm, “I can think of lots of things you could do for me. I’m having trouble picking my favorite.”

“Darlin’, how many drinks you got in you?” There was genuine concern in the question, mixing with a touch of incredulity. You scoffed at it all.

“That it does,” Beckmann conceded. The bare affection in his voice and eyes while he said it had you flushing, finding care much more difficult to process than lust. “Now my task?”

“And where is that?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

“Aye, darlin’, that I will.” The honesty in his words stoked your courage back into a steady burn even better than the one brought on by the hard drinks.

“You’re drunk,” he weakly protested.

“You should look for another man to share your body,” he tried again, this time managing to sound assertive through the breathiness of his voice.

“Do you really want another man touching me?” you bit back at him.

“I want you,” you moaned, pushing all the genuine need into your voice that you could.

“Pretty girl, if you keep touching me like that,” his speech was interrupted by a poorly restrained moan, “I’m not gonna be able to keep my head.”

“Then don’t,” you encouraged, voice rushed and ravenous and pulling him to the depths of his urges in his new favorite siren song.

“Darlin’, you deserve better than some back alley fu-”

“I’ll happily be a slut if it's for you,” you breathed out before you could think, sounding nearly in a trance from his sudden dominant behavior.

The declaration had his cock jumping and his knees weak.

“Darlin’,” he moaned, voice stretched thin by his taut, straining need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“No,” he rumbled against your lips. “You’re just going to take what I give you.”

“Beckman,” you whined back to him between your continued fervent kisses, “let me touch you.”

“I want you,” you moaned in complaint. Though your voice was warbly with want, your tone was way too petulant to be considered begging. Even so, it was testing his resolve.

“You’ll have me,” he answered gruffly.

“On your toes, slut,” he ordered.

“Hold that wall and keep your voice down,” Beckman instructed, “Unless you’re such a whore you need an audience.”

“Beckman,” you moaned in frustration. “Give me more, I -ahhh- I need it.”

“Beckman,” you whined out, catching the way it made his breath hitch over your skin. “More, harder.”

“Please,” you gasped, near truly sobbing in need. “Pleeeeease, fuck me harder, Beck, fuck me faster, please, just -hhhah- just need more.”

Stuck on the start of the encounter, he kept repeating a favored phrase to you - “So good, darlin’, such a good fucking slut”.

“Your slut,” you panted, “only -hnngh- yours.”

“That’s right, darlin’,” he rasped, “only mine.”

“Beckman, please, need you -hahhn- need you to cum in me,” you begged, tone broken from all your moaning.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you fought to sing along properly through your bubbling giggles.

“I took that lass and smacked her ass

Said darlin you’re comin’ with me”

“Ain’t got a hall but we’ll use the wall

Just give me an hour or three”

You gave him a sweet smile but turned it coy, your attitude sneaking back as your mind stabilized. “You’ve got one to convince me to keep you.”

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missbeckman · 2 months

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Hi Zuko, how are you? I Just read you write poly, so may I ask a Benn + female reader + Shanks, nsfw please? Thank you

★ GUESS WHO! shanks + beckman ★

── pairing. shanks x f!reader x beckman.

── summary. shanks and beckman have the lovely idea of playing a fun little game of guess who in the bedroom. this time, with a blindfold.

── cw(s). nsfw. pwp. afab!reader. she/her pronouns used. sub!reader. oral. ( f receiving ) blindfold. overstimulation. piv. unprotected sex. mating press. manhandling. ( kinda sorta ) shanks calls the reader “gorgeous”, “pretty girl”, “beautiful”. beckman calls the reader “darlin”. not proofread. MINORS DNI.

── wc. 1.6k.

── notepad. i’ve been trying to write this for SO long it’s almost ridiculous. it went through so many changes until i FINALLY got the inspiration randomly in the middle of the night on a thursday🗿🗿im so sorry this took SO LONG. also further spreading my southerner beckman propaganda muahahaha

“all i’m saying is, i find it a bit unfair that i’m the only one that can’t see,” you muttered, as your fingertips tugged at the satin black blindfold covering your eyes. large, rugged hands gently wrapped themselves around your wrists, guiding your curious hands up to the pair of soft familiar lips of the greying gunslinger who was behind you.

though you could not see him, you focused on how gently and loving, beckman kissed your hands. just that quick almost forgetting there was another person here with you. another hand found your bare thighs, making you jolt and close your legs in surprise, goosebumps covered your skin.

your redheaded captain’s voice reached your ears, “because if you could see the game would be ruined.”

“what game? what did you talk beckman into?” you questioned, earning a light chuckle from the gunslinger behind you. he let your hands fall to your sides, kissing from your shoulder up to the base of your neck, as his hands moved to fiddle with the loose tie of your silk robe.

“i’ll have you know, for once this was his idea,” shanks clarified, prying your thighs part, catching a glimpse of your panties hidden underneath your robe. “we wanted to play a little game of guess who. we’ll ask you who’s pleasing you, and you will just have to guess. if you answer correctly, you get a reward. if you answer incorrectly…well…” he trailed off, as both he and beckman stopped touching you all together. you couldn’t hold the desperate whine that fell from your lips, your body fidgeting in between beckman’s thighs, where you sat on the edge of the king-sized bed you all shared, needed to feel them touch you again.

you didn’t even have to see them to know that both of your boyfriends were smirking down at you.

“because we love ya, we’ll start very easy.” beckman began, wrapping his strong arms back around your body and finally undoing your robe tie, opening to reveal your burning body underneath a matching set that left little to the imagination. his breath was hot against the shell of your ear, “is that okay with you, darlin?”

you eagerly nod your head at his words. you could hear your boyfriends lightly tsk, making you pout. you knew better than that.

shanks moved closer, taking your chin into his hand, guiding your pretty little head to where he was, “use your words, gorgeous.”

“yes, i want this. i want both of you,” you breathed out.

“much better, pretty girl,” he smiled, leaning crash his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss that he‘s been waiting to give you since he saw you walk out of the bathroom in this damn little robe that didn’t even cover your ass. just as fast as the kiss came, it was gone, as he pulled away from your lips with a laugh. it felt like a damn punishment, “now pretty girl, who was that?”

“you, shanks.”

“easy guess,” he teased. using the space between your legs, he carefully got onto his knees on the floor in front of him. if you could only see him.

beckman moved his rough hands up your hot skin, bringing his hand up your face, turning your face to him for a kiss. his kiss couldn’t be any more different than shanks. not hungry and rough, but passionate and soft. they must have mistaken you for dumb if they didn’t know you already could tell who is who by their kiss and the taste of their lips. it wasn’t hard to tell the difference between cheap beer and cigarette smoke and that sweet bourbon you got him for his birthday.

beckman spoiled you a little, giving you a longer kiss before eventually pulling away. he was always sweet on you. “and who was that?” he said, his lips practically ghosting on top of yours.

“you, beckman.”

“atta girl.”

“this is easy. i got this.”

this was easy, far too easy. you could do this with your eyes closed, well, blindfolded. you had known the both of them like the back of your hand. so just how bad could it get?

how bad could it possibly be, with your matching set discarded somewhere on the floor and your naked body sprawled on the bed and your shaking legs struggling to stay wide open, threatening to close around just whoever’s head was finger fucking and eating out your pussy like a starved man with no shame, making a mess of you. all while the other, alternated between sucking and kneading your tits and swallowing your moans into their mouth.

you couldn’t tell who was who, too dazed and fucked out from your previous orgasms for a name to spill from your swollen lips, as you take what is given to you.

he flicks his tongue over your puffy clit, before sucking roughly on your bundle of nerves, pumping his thick digits in and out of your pussy at an unforgiving pace. that band in the pit of your stomach was stretching thin, threatening to burst, for the second time tonight, maybe it was the third, you weren’t sure.

if ‘no touching’ weren’t one of the rules of the game, your fingers would be pulling at the hair of the bastard who was making you feel so fucking good. instead, you grip the sheets, as you reach your orgasm, thrashing against the hold of the other fucker who was holding you down.

“who just made you cum, sweetheart?”

coming down from your high, you had nearly forgotten about the game. you aren’t even sure whose voice you were listening to. you try to think real hard “…s-shanks?” your shaky voice whispered.

that ill-fated tsk coming from beside you, “wrong again. what happened to that confidence from earlier? i thought you had this,” shanks teased. he helped sit you up, leaning your back against his bare chest, as he used the headboard to support himself. he rested his chin on the top of your head. “poor beck, working so hard to pleasure you and you still guessed wrong. i think you should make it up to him, don’t you think so too?”

“yes! i want to! please…let me make it up to him.”

“look at that, where did this eagerness come from?” it was beckman’s turn to tease you. this was a side of him you had yet to see, a side you were enjoying.

as you try to catch your breath, you don’t even hear the whisper exchange between your boyfriends. you can only make out shanks giggling under his breath and beckman removing himself from your legs and the bed altogether. the redhead massaged gentle circles in the small of your back.

oh, how you yearned to see them, even for just a second. finally, you heard beckman rid himself of his pants, freeing his cock from its restraint and you felt the bed dip again.

beckman’s rough hands grip your hips, pulling you almost out of shanks’s lap, leaving your head resting on his thigh. he laid you on your back. before you could even spread your legs, he forces them up, pressing your knees up to your chest further than you even knew they could go before stuffing your sopping, greedy cunt full with his cock inch by inch. as he bottoms out, he lets out a low groan of “fuck”.

“oh baby, he just slid right in, fuck,” shanks breathed out, letting his fingers graze the side of your face as he hovered over you, admiring your fucked out expressions and pretty mewls as if they were the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.

beckman began to move, his slow thrusts gradually picked up speed, as he found a rough pace, drilling you into the mattress. shanks was hard as a rock watching as he pitched in a strong hand to help keep one of your quivering legs up to your chest. the way your pussy swallows beckman’s cock over and over again, leaving a thick creamy white ring at the base. the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, each one greater than the last one, leaving you babbling incoherently. it's

“that’s it, beautiful. you’re taking him so well,” shanks praised, making your pussy flutter around beckman’s cock. the gunslinger let out a low grunt, before grinning, “oh, she loved that.”

to hell with not touching. one of your arms was wrapped around beckman’s neck, as was intertwined with shanks’ hand as you reached your high, giving them your third orgasm of the night. or was it the fourth? “that’s it, let go, gorgeous.”

beckman followed behind you, filling your pussy to the brim with his cum. he slowly slid out of you, gently bringing your legs back down to the mattress, not before making sure to plant sweet kisses on your bruised thighs and ankles from where he held a bit too tight.

still lost in your pleasure, you hadn’t even processed that they had traded places, beckman was once again behind you while shanks had settled himself in between your legs. beckman removed your blindfold, allowing you to finally see.

shanks surprises you with the first stride up your folds, causing you to shutter in overstimulation. “too much,” you stutter, hazily watching as the redhead cleaned you up with his tongue, humming in delight against your leaking cunt. for only a moment you swear you could feel him smirk against you.

“how honey, we’re just getting started. besides you still have to make up for all of your wrong guesses.”

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missbeckman · 2 months

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Make You Feel Good! Benn Beckman x Reader SMUT! (One Piece)

Being Shanks second in command comes with a lot of paperwork, both necessary and unnecessary. Luckily you know how to help Benn destress while he works. You underestimate how much paperwork and start to get needy cockwarming Benn. He knows how to keep his doll in place. Benn x Reader (Female) SMUT!

Benn was pulling another all-nighter, Shanks hated paperwork so Benn took on the responsibility. The gentle rocking of the ship and pen scratching on paper kept you occupied in your current position. Your head was resting on Benn's shoulder as you played with loose strands of his hair, trying so hard not to move as commanded which was hard with Benn's dick inside you making you go crazy at how long you'd been sitting here.

Benn hums, 'It's...really distracting when you do that doll.'

You huff, 'you said one more page ages ago.'

Benn stops writing, and the next thing you know one of his rough hands grabs you by the chin and forces you to look up at him. The sudden movement has you clenching around his dick wanting release.

'...FUCK!' you moan.

Benn smirks, he was the oldest most experienced member of the crew. And what you didn't know was how much he craved you and how thrilled he was when you came onto him drunk and had come back to him when you were sober. You were younger than him, and out of his league, whereas you believed he thought you were a child because you went along with Shanks's antics. You wanted pleasure and he wanted a way to relax, most nights he got you off quickly but tonight cockwarming was the longest and you could be impatient.

He runs his thumb over your lip, 'So beautiful and all mine doll. Such a slut for my dick, you haven't done this with anyone else have you?'

You shake your head, 'Just you, only you. Please don't tease me anymore,' you beg, voice shaking as you grip his shirt with your hands.

Benn smirks, 'get me a smoke will you.'

Feeling his dick angle more towards your sensitive spot as you lean back to reach behind you for his cigarettes and lighter you mumble curses under your breath. He places both of his hands on your hips keeping you in place. You put a cigarette between his lips and light it.

'Thanks, doll. now if I give you a little something will you keep quiet and let me finish my work?' he asks, tone playful but mischievous.

You nod eagerly, 'yes I will keep quiet.'

He picks you up by the hips making you squirm and gasp at the cold air on your slick pussy as he pulls out of you. He then slams you back down roughly.

'...YES...BENN!' you shout with a hiss, forgetting just how big he is.

Benn's nickname for you was doll, and you lived up to that nickname as you let him play with you, picking you up and slamming you right back down onto his dick, 'keep the noise down doll. Someone is going to walk in while I have my dick inside you, can't tarnish your good girl image,' he mocks.

You put your hands over your mouth to quiet yourself and nod in compliance. Shanks quarters were right next door and you didn't want your captain seeing you in such a vulgar position when he respected you. The only sounds around were your muffled cries, skin slapping against skin, and Benn grunting as he picked up the pace.

'Such a good girl, does it feel good when I use you like this?' Benn praises, and your hips buck against him as one of his fingers finds your clit and continues the overstimulation.

'Mmm...' you mumble, the noise coming out muffled behind your hands, your eyes rolling back, as you feel warmth in your lower half.

Benn grunts, 'I know you like this doll. I know how to make you feel good and cum. Now cum for me, cum around my dick and fingers.'

You come undone, walls clenching around his dick as you cum on demand. You remove your shaky hands from your mouth panting heavily, '...thank...you...Benn...'

Benn grins proudly, 'My turn doll, let me fill you up.'

With a couple more thrusts he cums inside you filling you up like promised, clearly just as pent up as you had been, the two of you riding out each other's high. He brings his cum soaked fingers up to your lips and you take them in your mouth sucking them clean. His eyes were full of admiration as he took the cigarette in his other hand and blew smoke at you.

You smile blissfully as you go back to resting your head on his shoulder, 'you can finish your paperwork in peace now.'

Benn leans down and kisses the top of your head, 'going to buy my doll something pretty when we next dock,' he says jokingly.

You roll your eyes and mumble, 'As long as it's shiny.'

You were a fierce fighter, quick-witted and a smooth negotiator, but your sweet appearance meant a lot of people underestimated you. the crew would tease you and treat you like a princess or a doll, but when shit hit the fan they wanted you on their side. Right now you were content being Benn's stress relief as you both got something out of this arrangement.

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missbeckman · 2 months

Photo

Jen Mazza

project: RED LETTER

oil on linen

2007

#12 - 7"x 9"

#4 - 9"x 9½"

#8 - 7"x 8½"

#6 - 6"x 8½"

#5 - 6½"x 8½"

#7 - 6½"x 8¾"

“I paint within a realist tradition as I enjoy the disjunction of resisting or thwarting literal expectations: my paintings always give back something other than that which would be offered by the object in person or its photographic likeness. What realism allows me to do is feign reality, and I mentioned above: to imply truths, and to lie. There is within representation the illusion of reality; it draws on the system of beliefs which defines what we experience as reality. I am making paintings that while presenting the real (i.e.: “truth”) still consistently draw attention to their form: within each painting there is a reminder of it’s contrivance (painting as vehicle of contrivance, painting as device, as translation) and in so doing I create friction between the image and the means by which the image is substantiated.” Jen Mazza

jenmazza.com

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missbeckman · 2 months

Text

Relentless

Shanks is relentless as he hits on you in a bar. Toxic behaviour from him but reader likes it I promise. Some angst, some smut, some fluff. There's a fair amount of buildup before the smut, but if you're patient i promise it's there lmfao

Pairing: Shanks x f!reader

CW: Mentions of gambling, bad family dynamic, semi-toxic Shanks, he's very persistent, reader is rude but she's valid for it, jealousy, groping, penetrative sex, oral (f and m receiving), size kink, belly bulge, brat taming (kind of), overstimulation, slight dumbification, dom shanks, bratty reader, age gap though not really touched on (reader in 20s, Shanks late 30s), slight daddy kink (mentioned only once), aftercare, happy ending

WC: 7.2k (im sorry i dont know how that happened 😭)

18+ MDNI

You’re sitting at the bar, nursing your drink as you trace the grooves in the wooden bar. You do your best to ignore the chaos around you, not wanting to participate in the revelry. New pirates come in and out of this bar every day, always celebrating something. After more than two decades in this town, you were used to the revolving door.

When you were younger, a life at sea had appealed to you. You’d dreamt of leaving this small island behind and embracing adventure. However, family commitments had held you back. Now, you were free of those commitments, but you stayed put in your steady life. Sure, you had the freedom to leave now, but after so long, a life of adventure no longer appealed to you. Or at least, it scared you more than it appealed to you. You supposed that you still felt the call of the sea sometimes, but you’d grown so used to ignoring it that you almost didn’t feel the yearning deep inside of you.

Tonight, you were drinking alone at the only bar in your town because you felt like your life was falling apart.

Your father had been the only person in your life for as long as you could remember. You wished that you could remember him fondly, but the only memories you had associated with him were negative.

He had been a gambler. You had memories dating back to your childhood of leaving your house in the middle of the night with as much Berry as you could find to bail him out of yet another "bad hand".

He’d grown sick when you were 15 and had stopped working. He’d kept gambling though, so you’d had to pick up odd jobs around town whenever you could to make enough Berry to finance his addiction.

He’d finally died 6 months ago. You imagined that you should have felt sad, but in reality, all you felt was relief. Finally, you were no longer responsible for bailing him out. You could focus on yourself. You were finally at peace.

Unfortunately, today the other shoe had dropped. Somewhere along the way, your father had accumulated an insane amount of debt to the thugs from a neighbouring town. They’d come by early in the morning today to collect.

You’d been completely blindsided. You had given them all the money you had, choking back tears as you felt years of your hard work slip away. It hadn’t been enough, not even close. The leader had bent down to be eye level with you, a menacing sneer on his face as he informed you that he’d be taking your house instead.

Now, you sat in the bar and fought back tears as you wondered what you’d do tonight. You had very few friends, and it didn’t feel right to ask them for help. You felt bad enough about the drink in your hand. The barkeep had taken one look at you and set it down, saying it was on the house.

You lifted your head to survey the patrons of the bar, wondering if you could go home with any of them. You laughed bitterly at the thought.

Pirates were notoriously greasy, and these pirates didn’t appear to be any exception. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. A certain red-haired pirate was laughing at a table, a huge mug of ale in his hand. He didn’t look too greasy. His eyes flicked up and met yours from across the room.

You ducked your head, swivelling back to face the bar. You shook your head as if that would rid you of the thoughts. It was time to think seriously. The weather wasn’t too bad, maybe you could just crash outside? Though, with how many strange men you saw around, you doubted you’d get a wink of sleep if you slept somewhere exposed. You'd be far too anxious.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone settle into the seat right next to you. You frowned. The seats around the bar were mostly empty, so there was no reason for someone to sit right next to you.

You lifted your head with a scowl, annoyed that someone had disturbed your wallowing. You were momentarily stunned to see none other than the red-haired pirate from before. Now that he was closer, you realized that he had three scars over his left eye. Ordinarily, you weren’t fond of scars. However, his accentuated his features and made him appear even more attractive.

Your eyes widened when you realized he was missing his left arm. You quickly looked back up at his face, schooling your expression.

He grinned at you, clearly enjoying how you were ogling him. Gods, get a hold of yourself, you internally scolded, annoyed that you’d lost your composure so easily.

He takes his time admiring every inch of you. His eyes rake appreciatively up your long, exposed legs. He takes his time moving them up to your chest, grin widening as he takes in the sight. When his eyes finally lift back to your face, you’re scowling even more.

He leans in, resting an arm on the bar. You stiffen as he enters your personal space.

“Can I help you?” You finally snap.

“Cranky, are we?” He laughs.

You roll your eyes, annoyed. You turn back to the bar, decidedly ignoring him.

“Maybe I can make your bad mood all better,” He teases.

“Fuck off,” You growl, taking a sip of your drink.

He bursts out laughing. It’s a nice sound, you decide. Though you wish he weren’t quite so close to your ear. You cringe a bit at how loud he is, ear ringing even after his laughter fades.

“Pretty mouth like yours shouldn’t be using bad words like that,” His eyes glitter as he continues to tease you. “Do you like being bad?”

You turn to face him, fed up with his lame attempts at flirting. You blink in surprise when you realize just how close his face is to yours. Your noses are almost touching. You recover quickly.

“What is your problem?” Your teeth are gritted. It had been a long day, and you really didn’t need this right now.

“You wanna know what my problem is?” He asks, tone suggestive as his eyes flick down to your full lips and linger.

You move to get up and leave, pretty certain you can guess what he’s going to say. Honestly, did men have no shame anymore?

He grabs your wrist as you spin away from him, keeping you from leaving. His grip is firm, though not tight enough to hurt. It feels more… possessive than anything else. A delicious shiver runs down your spine at that realization, but you do your best to push it aside. It didn’t matter how handsome this red-haired man was, now wasn’t the right time for you to be playing around with some guy.

He stands as well, stepping in close to you. You remain rooted in place, waiting for his next move. Now that you’re both standing, you can appreciate how tall he is. He towers over you. Your head barely reaches to his collarbone, if that.

His head drops, mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Yeah, that breaks the spell. You wrench your arm from his grip and shove him. “Where do you get off thinking you can just grab me like that!” You spit.

He doesn’t budge, despite you shoving him with all your might. He appears unfazed and chuckles at your meagre attempts to send him packing.

“You have a lot of spirit, don’t you?” He sounds appreciative, as though that’s something he admires in a person.

“And you have a whole lotta nerve. Can’t you take a hint?” Though, if you were being wholly honest with yourself you were glad that he wasn’t leaving. Bickering with him was doing a great job of taking your mind off the struggles of your real life. It didn't hurt that he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. It was addicting, having his undivided attention on you. You were really enjoying this game of cat and mouse, and secretly wished he wasn't going to be scared off by your words.

He grins, leaning in closer. “I like women who play hard to get,” he winks playfully.

“Gods,” You mutter, turning away from him and finding a new seat further down the bar. You pick a stool between two people so that he can’t sit next to you again. The barkeep, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal, grabs your half-finished drink and slides it down to you at your new spot. You mutter a quick thanks.

The man leans against the bar right next to you, practically squeezing some stranger out of his seat. He ignores the stranger, still focused only on you. “Wanna know something?”

You groan. Of course he would squeeze into a tiny space to be next to you. It had been naïve of you to think that would stop him.

He laughs at the sound, reaching up to toy with the ends of your hair as he leans his head down to keep talking. “You have really pretty hair. It was the first thing I noticed about you.”

You turn to eye his hair. “Wish I could say the same for you.”

That was a lie. You really liked his hair. It was such a unique shade of red, and the way it caught the dim light of the bar was mesmerizing. But his ego was clearly way too big already, you didn’t need to feed into it.

He just chuckles, continuing to toy with the ends of your hair. “Someone’s feeling bitchy tonight, aren’t they?”

“That’s fucking rich.” You smack his hand away from your hair, standing up to glower at him. “You harass me and then when I fight back you call me a bitch? Real fucking classy.”

“I see I’ve struck a nerve!” He sounds amused, pleased to have elicited such a response from you.

You scowl and spin away from him.

Of course, he doesn’t let you leave. “C’mon, does it really bother you so much that a handsome man is giving you so much attention?”

“Not sure who you’re talking about there, because I certainly don’t find you handsome. Though, it’s not surprising that you’re so full of yourself.” You mutter as you make a beeline for the dance floor, hoping to lose him. It occurs to you that you don’t even know this guy’s name. You don’t want to ask it though, afraid he’ll take that as an invitation to pick you up and haul you away to his ship.

You can hear him chuckle behind you, but you ignore him. You find the perfect target, some random man on the dance floor. He’s alone and looks a bit out of place. He seems nervous, though not so much so that he’ll up and run away from you. You head straight for him, smiling broadly when he notices you.

You dance with the stranger. His hands settle on your hips as he sways with you. You can feel the red-haired pirate’s eyes on you, but you pointedly ignore him. You barely even look at your dance partner, too focused on ignoring your pursuer and hoping he’s feeling jealous. Maybe, if he’d been a tad bit nicer, you would’ve been dancing with him instead.

Shanks watches you move from a short distance away. He settles against the wall, prepared to stay put for as long as necessary. He’s completely in awe of you. Your movements are so graceful, so fluid. He doesn’t even care that you’re dancing with someone else. He just enjoys watching you.

Beckmann leans beside him on the wall, eyes on the girl Shanks had been relentlessly pursuing. “What’s her name?” He asks, voice gruff.

Shanks pauses for a moment, before laughing. “I don’t know!”

Beckmann frowns. “You’ve been chasing her all over the bar and you don’t even know her name?”

Shanks shrugs, still laughing.

The older man shakes his head with a sigh. “You’ve never been good at meeting people.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!?”

“You come on too strong. Scares them off.”

“I seem to have done alright. I have a whole crew! They all liked me enough to join!”

Beckmann laughs. “That's a terrible example. Most of these men are not normal. Flirting with a girl is different.”

Shanks raises a brow at his first mate. “I do alright with girls, but thanks.”

“Yeah, 'cause they all know who you are and throw themselves at you, desperate for the chance to sleep with an emperor! It’s different when you’re the one pursuing them.”

Shanks is about to protest, but one cutting look from the other man shuts him up. He’s still thinking of a response when he sees you grab your dance partner's hand and start to lead him to the door. He stiffens, not wanting to see you go home with someone else. Your eyes flick to his, so quick he’s not sure you even realized. But the motion makes him grin. It confirmed that you were doing this for his benefit. You didn’t actually have any interest in your dance partner.

He pushes off the wall, hurrying to the door to cut you off before you have the chance to leave.

“Be normal!” Beckmann calls out from behind him.

You’re almost out of the bar when your path is interrupted by a towering man. You look up to see the pirate smiling down at you. “No, sweetheart. You’re going home with me.”

“Can’t you see I’m spoken for?” You gesture to your dance partner, who’s standing cluelessly behind you by the door. The redhead glares at him over your shoulder, and your partner scurries off.

“Traitor,” You mutter.

He chuckles. “Did you really think I’d be worried about that boy? No, I’m perfectly confident in my ability to take you home.”

You cross your arms. “All you’ve done is hound me. Why would I ever leave with you?”

He places his hand on your hip, large fingers splaying as he pulls you closer. With his mouth next to your ear, and his voice low he murmurs, “Because, sweetheart, I know how to properly take care of a woman.”

You shiver at his words. You can feel your panties growing damp as a thousand possibilities rush through your mind. You push them away with a shake of your head and narrow your eyes at him.

“I know your kind. You’re a flirt. Sure, you’re focused on me tonight, but tomorrow you’ll be right back at the bar, searching for your next target. I have no interest in being another notch on your bedpost.” You try to keep your voice light, though the slight quiver hints at the very real insecurity behind your words.

He lifts his hand from your waist to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Sweetheart, I did not come to the bar tonight with the intention of finding a girl. You took me by surprise, and I’ve been… how did you put it? Hounding you!” He grins as he quotes you, “Because I want you. I really want you. That’s not going to change tomorrow. You’re perfect, and I’d be an idiot to let you slip through my fingers. I want you tonight – several times, hopefully,” You blush at the innuendo. “I’ll want you tomorrow morning, tomorrow night, and every day after that.”

“And what, I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

He tilts your chin so you make eye contact with him. His eyes burn into yours. “Maybe I can back it up with my actions instead?”

His voice is sensual, and lust burns through you at his words. You flush, unable to respond as your mouth hangs. He grins, pleased with your reaction. He drops his hand from your chin to grab your hand, and he tugs you out of the bar.

You stumble behind him before deciding that this is exactly what you need. This man made you feel more aroused than you’d thought possible, and he’d barely even touched you.

You hurry to keep up with him, his long legs easily outpacing yours as he rushes you excitedly down to the docks.

“My first mate pointed out that I tend to go about introductions all wrong,” He tosses his head back as he laughs. “What’s your name?”

You study his profile as you continue walking, starting to wonder if he’s perhaps insane. You tell him your name, and he grins. “Good name. Suits you! I’m Shanks.” The name sounds familiar, but you’re not sure why. He stops suddenly and lets go of your hand to hold his out professionally, face solemn.

Your gaze flicks between his face and his outstretched hand. Slowly, you reach for his hand to shake it. He nods, satisfied. Immediately, he grabs your hand again and keeps pulling you towards the ship.

“You’re slow,” He complains.

“Sorry I’m not fucking huge! Your legs are twice the size of mine!”

“Maybe I should just carry you,” Shanks laughs.

“I really don’t think that’s–” He lets go of your hand to scoop you up. He moves so fast, you’re not sure how he does it, but one second, you’re standing next to him and the next you’re on his back.

You can’t help the startled laugh that bubbles out of you as you tighten your arms around his neck, holding on tight as he speeds towards his ship. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist to keep you secured on his back. His arm twists behind his back to help support your weight as you near the docks.

Your jaw drops as a massive ship comes into view. It stands proud with a red and gold trim, a jolly roger that resembles your red-haired companion painted onto the main sail. It’s the nicest ship you’d ever seen, and you’d seen a lot of pirate ships pass through your coastal town.

“You like her? She’s called the Red Force. Best ship out there, I promise you that.” Shanks grins, and you can hear genuine pride in his voice.

“It's beautiful,” You breathe. He sets you down in front of the ramp, turning to face you again.

“I’d offer you a tour, but there will be time for that later,” He grabs your hand again and leads you up the ramp onto the deck. He walks slower now, so you no longer have to jog to match his pace. You enjoy how his much larger hand dwarfs yours as he guides you along. You feel safe in his hold. Safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a while.

Once on the deck, you pause to look up at the sky. It was well past dark now, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Your breath caught as you admired the stars. There were so many filling the sky. It was beautiful.

You look back to Shanks, eyes bright. You find him already staring at you, a thoughtful smile on his face.

“What?” You ask, almost nervously.

He steps closer to you, moving his hand from yours to wrap an arm around your waist. He pulls your lower body flush against his in a swift movement that makes you gasp. Breathlessly, you stare at him.

“I’d quite like to kiss you now,” His eyes are trained on your lips.

You nod, “That would be okay.”

He grins, then tilts his face down. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. He pauses there for just a moment before closing the distance and pressing his lips to yours.

His lips are surprisingly soft as they caress your own. The kiss is gentle, different from what you’d expected from him. It feels intimate, contradictory to the relentless was he pursued you earlier.

He pulls away slowly, as though reluctant to part from your lips. You share the feeling.

“Come,” He says quietly. This is a new side to Shanks, but you find you’re enjoying it. It feels nice to know that he’s taking this seriously. He can do more than just joke around, it seems. It reassures you that he meant what he'd said earlier.

He leads you down into the belly of the ship. You turn so many times you feel yourself getting lost before he finally stops in front of a large wooden door.

He looks almost nervous as he pushes it open. You step in first, taking in the sight of his bedroom. It was pretty big, much bigger than you’d expected for a room aboard a ship. His bed sat in the middle, made with red sheets. Your lips twitched at the sight. It seemed red was a consistent theme for your new pirate friend.

Standing in his room feels more intimate than you’d thought it would. You turned back to face him, finding his eyes glued to your face. Unsure how to cope with the unfamiliar feelings rising in your chest, you opt for a physical response instead.

Your hands reach up to cup his face, pulling him down to you. Your lips meet his in a kiss far more passionate than the last time. He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your parted lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to tangle with yours. This kiss is far more what you'd expected from a man like him.

A moan leaves you as you taste him. Sake, mostly, but also something else. A taste that was distinctly him. It was addicting.

Shanks pushes you farther into his room, shutting the door with his foot as he goes. His hand reaches up to tangle in your hair, holding you against him as he continues to kiss you.

You’d had kisses before. Some had been good, some had been bad. This one though? This was on another level. He kissed you like his life depended on it. You felt dizzy from the attention he was giving you. You never wanted him to stop. It was breathtaking and mind-numbing. It was perfect.

The back of your legs hit the mattress and you sat down hard. Shanks breaks the kiss, and you almost whine at the loss. He smirks, not missing the pout you make.

You try to steady your breathing as he pulls his shirt off. You’d quickly lost control of the situation. He had been pursuing you all night, and you’d planned on making him pay for that in the bedroom. You were hoping he’d even beg a little. But his confidence had changed. He no longer seemed cocky in a way that demanded you knock him down a few pegs. Instead, he exuded the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Your instinct was to follow his lead. But no, you hardened your resolve. You vowed to take back control of the situation.

You almost lost your resolve the second he tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it on the ground behind him. Your mouth waters at the sight of his strong body. Your hand lifted of its own accord to trace over the ridges of his abdomen. He drew in a sharp breath, muscles flexing, when you scraped a nail down the red happy trail disappearing into his pants.

One large hand grabbed yours, halting your movements before you could continue your path down to his clothed cock. The lighting in the room was dim, but you could see the evidence of his arousal straining against his pants. Even through the clothing, you could tell he was huge. You grew wetter at the sight, and your mouth watered at the thought of getting to taste him.

“Take your shirt off,” He commands, voice laced with lust. You almost do as you’re told before remembering that you were supposed to be giving him a hard time. It was only fair, really. So instead of taking your shirt off, you ignored him and raised your other hand to undo his belt.

Shanks frowns as you ignore him, but he doesn’t protest as you tug his pants down. He’s left standing in only his boxers, while you remain fully clothed in front of him.

You cup him through his boxers, eyes widening as you get an idea of just how big he is. You relish the way he groans under your touch. The hand on yours goes slack, and you pull free from his grip. Slowly, you tug his boxers down.

You gasp as his freed cock slaps lewdly against his stomach. He was huge. How were you going to fit him inside of you? You reached a hand up to wrap around the base of his cock, whimpering when you realize your fingers don’t touch. With your arm up now, you flicked your eyes between his cock and your forearm, eyes growing wide as you realize they were about the same size.

Shanks watches you from above with an amused expression, lips curled into a smug smirk. He was no stranger to this reaction. He was aware that he was much larger than the average man. But he wasn’t worried. He knew it would fit.

“You’re fucking huge!” You exclaim, almost accusatorily.

He bursts out laughing, which does nothing to ease your growing concerns.

“You’re going to kill me with this thing!” Your eyes flick between his cock, annoyed to find it twitching in your hand at your words. The tip is an angry shade of red as it leaks milky precum. Stressed though you were, you had to admit he had a beautiful cock. You desperately wished to take him into your mouth, though you knew there was no way you'd be able to fit much of him down your throat.

“I can’t believe you harassed me all night just to lure me back to your ship so you could kill me,” You muttered.

Shanks pushes on your shoulder, forcing you back on the bed. He leans down over you so that your noses are touching. His eyes sparkle with amusement.

“I promise it will be fine, sweetheart. We’re gonna make it fit, okay? I’m gonna take my time getting you ready for me, and then you’re going to take my cock like a good girl. And you’re going to like it.” He kisses the tip of your nose with a wink before working his lips down your neck, leaving marks behind as he goes.

You relax underneath him, fear leaving you as you get lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Touch me,” You order.

He lifts his head, an amused expression on his face. “You’ll have to be a little more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“You know what I want,” You scowl. You tangle a hand in his hair and push his head further down your body until his face is hovering over your clothed cunt.

Shanks laughs softly as you manhandle him, but doesn’t object. He kneels at the foot of the bed with your cunt right in front of him. He flips your skirt up and drapes your legs over his shoulder. He presses one lingering kiss to your still-covered clit.

“Take your shirt off,” he orders again, eyes burning into yours. You almost moan at the sight of him between your legs. It takes you a moment to register his words, but when you do you scowl.

“You don’t get to boss me around. That’s not how this works.”

“I think you’ll find I like being in charge. I also think you’ll find that you like it too.” He smirks from between your legs.

“I doubt it. If you want my shirt off so bad do it yourself.”

He stands. Your legs fall off his shoulders as he moves, making you frown. He bites the top of your shirt, lifting his hand up to grab the fabric next to his mouth.

“What are you–”

In one smooth motion, Shanks rips open the front of your shirt, revealing the bra underneath.

“You gonna be a good girl and take that off for me, or do I need to rip it too?”

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, propping yourself up on your elbows. Before you can continue yelling at him, he shoves two fingers into your mouth.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you sputter around them. He drops back down to his knees, using his teeth to tug your panties off.

Without wasting a moment, he dives in to devour your needy cunt. As much as his fingers in your mouth annoyed you, you couldn’t deny that it turned you on even more. You were dripping on his tongue as he traced the muscle around your hole. His appreciative groan as he tasted your juices reverberated through your body, making you arch up off the bed.

He alternates between flicking his tongue over your throbbing clit and pumping it in and out of your weeping hole. You clench around him with each thrust of his tongue, the feeling driving you wild. Your moans are muffled by his fingers as your eyes roll back in your head.

Shanks moans almost as much as you do while he eats you out. You're the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he can't get enough. He grinds his cock against the bed as he continues pleasuring you, desperate for some friction to ease the ache.

You are rapidly approaching you high under his skilled tongue. Your chest heaves as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. You try to warn him, but can't get the words out past his fingers. Your hips buck, meeting every thrust of his tongue as you loose control of your body, focused solely on chasing your high.

You cum around his tongue with a muffled cry. He laps your juices up eagerly as you clench desperately around him. He groans at the thought of you clenching around his cock later in a similar way.

Slowly, he tugs his fingers out of your mouth as you come down from your high. A string of spit connects the digits to your lips and drool drips down your chin, but you're still too far gone to feel embarrassed. Shanks enjoys the sight of you unraveled and messy before him.

He brings his fingers down to your opening and pushes them both in slowly. You groan at the stretch.

“Fuck, so tight sweetheart,” Shanks murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. The action makes you whimper.

Your hands tangle in the bedsheets to ground yourself as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you rapidly. He scissors the long digits as he goes, efficiently opening you up for him as he prepares you to take his cock.

When he adds a third finger, you cum around him again. Your back arches off the mattress as you cry out, clenching hard around his fingers as you drench his hand.

Shanks grins, loving the sight of you cumming because of him. He tries to keep going, eager to see you cum again, but you reach down to weakly grab his wrist and halt his movements.

“S’too much, Shanks.” You whimper.

He reluctantly pulls his fingers out, taking in the sight of you breathless and sweaty before him.

“Think I like you even better like this,” He murmurs, tracing an appreciative finger down your flushed face. You sigh as he unwittingly smears your own juices down the side of your face. He blushes at the sight and quickly licks it off, making you roll your eyes.

You don’t have the energy to argue with him anymore, so you take the compliment and his actions silently.

Your eyes drift back down to his hard cock. You reach a tired hand out, wanting to feel the weight of him again. His size no longer scares you. Honestly, you're too blissed out to feel fear. You just want him inside of you. Though, you were still a little too overstimulated. You could think of a few things to do in the meantime.

Your hand closes around his tip. You glide your thumb over his slit, spreading the considerable amount of precum around the flushed head of his cock.

He watches your movements, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. You start to move your hand up and down his shaft, relishing the feel of the veins beneath your fingers. He moans as his cock twitches in your hand with every pass.

You squeeze him tighter, enjoying how responsive he is. His head tilts back as his breathing picks up.

Unable to help yourself, you lean forward to lick at his slit, collecting some of the precum on your tongue before swallowing it down. You moan at the taste of him, even better than you’d imagined.

His eyes snap open as he looks down at you, surprised. You smile almost shyly as you continue to lick your way down his cock, and then back up.

You know he’s too big for you to fit the whole thing in your mouth, but you want to try your best anyway. You start with just the tip, suckling on it and enjoying the fresh wave of precum spreading over your tongue. Already, you feel so full. You shut your eyes, focused wholly on the feel of his cock in your mouth.

You push your head down as far as you can before gagging, but you really can’t take much of him in your mouth. He seems to enjoy your efforts, though, so you’re not too upset about it.

You pump his cock with both of your hands in time with the movements of your mouth. His hand tangles in your hair as he loses himself to the pleasure you’re providing him. Tears bead in the corner of your eyes as you continue to push your limits.

Not long after, he’s pulling you off of him with a reluctant sigh. The lewd pop of your mouth being pulled off his cock makes you blush. You pout as you lose the taste of him on your tongue, which makes him laugh a bit.

“Lay down, sweetheart,” He murmurs. “Head on the pillows. And get rid of your bra, too.”

You feel a fresh wave of arousal rush through your core in anticipation. You do as he says without complaint, which pleases him. You've lost the will to fight with him, too caught up in the pleasure he gives you. You toss the tattered remains of your shirt on the ground, and your bra is quick to follow.

He groans at the sight of your exposed tits. You cup them, feeling heady under his lustful gaze. You pinch your nipples, which makes you moan. He lets out a similar sound at the sight of you playing with your pretty tits for him to see.

He moves up the bed until he’s hovering over you. You spread your legs to make room for him between them, and his cock twitches at the sight of your exposed cunt.

He kneels between your legs, rubbing his cock through your folds to gather the slickness there. You gasp as his tip makes contact with your sensitive clit.

He lines himself up with your entrance before leaning down so that his bare chest is pressed against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist to open yourself up better for him. He kisses you sensually as he slowly pushes into your opening.

Even after he’d stretched you out, it was still a stretch to accommodate his size. You whimper as he pushes in, the size of him making your walls burn.

Shanks murmurs gentle praises into your ear as he kisses down your neck, telling you what a good job you're doing for him, how good you feel around his cock, and how pretty you look underneath him.

Tears well up in your eyes as the stretch becomes too much. He pauses then, seeing you're struggling and letting you adjust. He kisses the tears from the corner of your eyes, continuing to praise you softly.

You give him a nod when the pain fades, urging him to continue. You're breathless, unable to form words as he continues to split you open.

Finally, you feel him bottom out inside of you. You hear him laugh in delight above you, which makes you open your eyes to focus on his face. He's looking down at your stomach, eyes sparkling.

You follow his gaze and whimper when you spy the bulge in your stomach, the outline in the shape of his cock.

“Fuck, Shanks,” You whine. “So deep in me… feel so full.”

He grins above you, nipping at your neck. “Press on it for me, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, eyes rolling back as the pleasure intensifies under the pressure of your hand. Shanks groans above you, clearly enjoying the feeling as well.

“Keep your hand there. Want you to feel me thrusting in and out of you,”

You nod obediently, too dazed out to argue. He hasn’t even really started fucking you, and you’ve already gone dumb around his cock. The sight makes him smug.

He slides out slowly, only pulling his cock out halfway. You cry out when he pushes back in, the pleasure already so intense. He carries on like that, giving you slow, shallow thrusts while you adjust to his size. He can feel the moment you're ready for more, and he sets a more aggressive pace.

Shanks slams his hips against yours in hard and fast strokes as he fucks in and out of your tight cunt relentlessly. You can do nothing but moan as he consistently hits that sensitive spot deep inside of you, sending you spiralling towards yet another orgasm.

You're careful to keep your hand pressed to your abdomen, the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you feeling indecent under your hand. Your cheeks flame with each stroke.

Shanks is careful to keep his hips pressed down against yours to grind his pelvic bone against your clit with each thrust, stimulating you in the most delicious way.

Your nails dig into his shoulder as you feel the coil in your stomach snap. You cum with a sharp cry as your whole body shakes underneath him.

He groans as you clench hard around his cock. He into you, working you through your orgasm, and loving the dazed-out look in your eyes.

“You still with me?” He asks when he sees tears gather in your eyes again.

You nod, struggling to form words in the post-orgasmic bliss. “Feels so good, Shanks. It-it’s so much. T-too much I th-think, but I d-don’t want you to st-stop.”

He chuckles over you as he continues to pound his cock into you, blunt tip hitting your cervix every time. “I won’t stop sweetheart, don’t worry. Doing so fucking good for me, making me so proud. I knew there was a good girl in you, buried underneath all that attitude.”

You can’t formulate a reply as he fucks you dumb with his perfect cock.

“Want you to cum again for me. Can you do that, give me one more? Want us to cum together this time.” He pants. You can tell by his glazed eyes and flushed cheeks that he’s getting close. You are too, though honestly, you’re not sure if you ever came down from your last orgasm. Either way, you can feel the familiar pressure threatening to take you under once again.

“Yes, Daddy,” You whimper underneath him, struggling to hold your climax off so that you can cum together like he wants.

“Fuck,” Shanks drops his head to the crook of your neck at the title, unable to stop his orgasm from washing over him.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you as he paints your walls white with his seed. You’d never let anyone cum inside of you before, and the feeling of his warm seed filling you up sends you careening off the edge of your own high.

Your back arches off the mattress as you thrash under Shanks, your orgasm washing over you in sudden, powerful waves. He bites your shoulder to ground himself as your clenching cunt strangles his sensitive cock in the best way.

He keeps himself securely inside of your warmth while you come down from your high, unwilling to part from you so soon. You settle underneath him as your orgasm passes, gasping for breath but no longer shaking quite so much.

He presses soft kisses all over your face as he waits for you to come back to him. Your eyes flutter open slowly, and you're met with his smiling face. You smile back, feeling light and giddy after your orgasms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice soft.

“Hi, Shanks,” You whisper back.

“I love the sound of my name on your lips,” He gives you a playful wink.

You giggle, half-heartedly swatting at his shoulder.

Slowly, he pulls his softening cock out of you. You whine at the loss, and even more so when he rolls off of you.

He grins and kisses you softly, “I’ll be right back.”

You nod, reluctant to see him go.

True to his word, he comes right back with a wet washcloth in his hands and grey sweatpants slung low over his hips.

You will your tired muscles to listen to you as you struggle to push yourself up into a seated position. You aren’t really sure what to do now. You know Shanks said that he wanted you for longer than just tonight, but if you were being realistic that had probably just been a line to get you into bed. And it had worked. Your cheeks flush with shame. How stupid and gullible were you?

You had nowhere to sleep tonight, so maybe you should just stay here? That is if he didn’t kick you out. Oh god, that would be so embarrassing.

Oblivious to the dark turn your thoughts had taken, Shanks sits down on the bed next to you, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You stiffen under his touch. If he wanted you gone, why was he being nice to you? That would only make it hurt more when he inevitably kicked you out.

He frowns as you freeze and refuse to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks, suddenly worried that he’d gone too far. He hadn’t exactly been gentle with you. What if he’d hurt you? He’d thought you were enjoying it, but maybe he’d been so lost in his own pleasure and had been projecting.

“I-is it okay if I stay here tonight?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn hotter with shame. You refuse to meet his eyes, afraid of what you'll find in them.

Shanks frowns, confused. “Of course. I thought I’d made it clear earlier that I want you to stay with me. Not just for tonight, either. I guess we should talk about that.” He chuckles softly. “My crew is leaving tomorrow, and I want you to come with me.”

Your head snaps up in surprise. You study his face, looking for any sign that he's kidding. But his expresion is uncharacteristically serious as he waits for your response.

“You… you want me to come with you?”

He nods as if that were obvious.

“Really? You’re not kidding?” You eye him warily, fighting back the hope bubbling in your chest.

“Of course not! I think you should join my crew, y/n. We’ll have a lot of fun, you’ll see. You have a lot of spirit, which is perfect for a pirate! Plus, I need someone to keep my ego in check, and you seem up for the job,” He nudges you playfully at that last part.

You laugh, despite yourself. Could this really be happening?

“You don’t have to decide right now,” He adds uncertainly, unsure how to interpret your silence. “You can sleep on it and decide in the morning if you need more time.”

“I want to go with you.” The words are out before you can stop them. You slap a hand over your mouth, as if that could take the words back.

“Perfect!” He laughs, delighted. He leans in and kisses you, wrapping you up in a tight hug. His excitement is contagious, and you find yourself laughing too.

You blush as Shanks cleans you up, the action foreign to you. It feels nice though, to have someone take care of you even after the sex is over. It makes you feel cherished. That was a feeling that you could get used to.

After tossing the rag, Shanks curls in behind you and wraps his strong arm around you, pulling your body towards him so that your back is pressed firmly against his chest. He buries his nose in your hair with a muttered comment about how nice you smell, before he immediately passes out.

You stay awake for a little bit longer, thoughts racing as your body buzzes with excitement. Finally, after all of this time, you're going to realize your dreams of becoming a pirate and living a life of adventure. And you could already tell that every day with Shanks would be an adventure. You drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, feeling better than you had in a while.

Also, thank you to everyone who's sent requests in so far for my 100 followers event (here) I'm having so much fun working on them, you guys are so creative. I'll still be posting ~2 regular posts a week, and I'll be posting your requests as I finish them :))

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missbeckman · 2 months

Text

"Mister Beckman"

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,113 Drabble

(Image Source a:)(Image Source b:)

Synopsis: The first mate of the Red-Hair pirates is attempting to relax and enjoy his evening with you, but is rudely interrupted by Shanks' tinkering and clanging within the Captain's quarters.

Themes: First-mate x crew, established relationship, lounging, drinking, smoking, gentle touches, sweet domesticity.

Notes: The Beckman brain rot got me. This beloved first-mate lives rent free in my head, and I adore him.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry

Echoes of clangs of metal meeting wood reverberated throughout the hallway of the Red Force. The ship shook against the metal banging, its source within the Captain’s quarters beginning to crescendo upwards in volume and the drawn out clangs became more erratic and frantic with each shattered bash.

Benn Beckman sat on the wooden deckchair, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows at each of the beaten clangs ringing in his ears. Reclining against your own deckchair, your legs comfortably rested over his thighs and secured beneath the heel of his left palm. He drew up his right hand and pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing the smoke away from you before slyly raking his eyes over your body from the corner of his eyes.

Your brows knit in concentration as you read over the itinerary to be completed within the next port. He gave your calf a gentle squeeze before slowly dancing his index finger over your shin up to the point of your knee. Pursing your lips and arching your left brow, you refused to break your eyes away from raking them over the itinerary as he continued to trail his digits over the cap of your knee.

“Mister Beckman,” your warning tone rising at the end of his name, your tongue clicking in a small reprimand, “I am trying to read.” His fingers end their small dance against your skin, his firm hand cupping over your knee as he leans forward. The clangs continue to pick up their rapidity and volume, before halting all together with a murmur of angry words strung into loose sentences.

Beckman hums in response, placing the butt of his cigarette within the glass ash-tray and pressing it beneath the pad of his thumb to extinguish it. He joins his right hand against your skin by cradling your calf and moulding the flesh beneath it. The angry vocal murmur continues to rise alongside the recommencing clanging and clashing within the Captain’s quarters.

“Mister Beckman,” you sighed, turning over the page of the itinerary and glaring at the pages, “Are you going to check on our Captain?” He grunted at your question, a lengthy sigh pulling itself from his chest immediately following. Leaning down in a deep stoop, he placed his lips against your shin, cradling your calf against his chest as he drew his lips up. Pressing several fluttered kisses against your flesh, he continued to trail his lips upwards with his smile felt in each flurry.

“Darlin’,” he muttered against your skin, “It’ll take nothin’ short of-.” A particularly loud clang of bashed wood meeting metal broke his words away from his lips, his head snapping over in the direction of Shanks within his quarters.

“Beckman! Becks!” Red-Haired Shanks yelled at the top of his voice. The booming anxiety had Beckman removing your legs from his lap, and rising immediately to his feet to sprint towards the direction of the Captain’s quarters.

You sighed at his warmth disappearing from beneath your legs, your ears pricking for any indication of the source of the clanging and banging.

Managing to scribe several notes over the itinerary, you glanced up to see Beckman re-emerging from the Captain’s quarters with a look of defeat over his face. Eyes closed, a deep frown found purchase against his brows, with his jaw both tense and slack at the same time. You could tangibly see the pulsation of a vein beating against his temple, his pulse elevated and aggressive in its rapidity.

He withdrew a cigarette from his pack and rose it to his lips, igniting the end and inhaling a deep gulping lungful of the nicotine-riddled tobacco. His exhale was heavy, the weight of what occurred within the Captain’s quarters falling from his exasperated breaths.

Brows upturning with empathy, your lips pouted at the sight of the first-mate in such a sorry state. You rose to your feet, walking slowly over to him as he allowed a small hushed growl depart from his lips on his next exhale.

“Why is it always me?” his raspy rumble mixed with his chagrin, prompting a small smile to elevate to your lips. You raised your right hand up to collect his left cheek, his eyes opening at the soft impact. The gruffness of his silver grained stubble danced with the softness of your palms as they drew his face closer to you.

“Because it’s what you do,” you offered him your response, gazing lovingly into his eyes, “And we all love and appreciate you for it.” He allowed a softness to dance in his eyes as he gazed into your orbs, the love dancing tangible within your rounded globes. He removed his cigarette from his lips and hung his hand limply to his side, stooping down to meet your face with his.

“We?” His lip ticked up at the corner as he continued his descent to meet your face with his own.

“Of course ‘we’,” you praised him with your wide and innocent eyes floating between half-lidded eyes, “But we know I love you most.” You gave him a small wink, prompting a rumbled chuckle to rise within his chest.

“Thank you, Darlin’,” he leant his forehead against yours, ensuring his cigarette was far enough from both of you to not dance its ignited end against your skin. You closed your eyes, humming at the kiss of your foreheads meeting, before pulling apart from him and gazing once more into his grey orbs.

“You going to tell me what that was all about, Mister Beckman?” You asked him. His smirk danced over his lips, his hand collecting fallen strands from your forehead and hooking it behind your ear.

“There you go again. Sayin’ ‘Mister Beckman,’ like it doesn’t rouse somethin’ in you,” his voice growled in a subtle purr down into ear, the follicles on the back of your neck rising to attention. He chuckled into your ear before rising himself away to press a chaste kiss against your temple with a small promise of, “I’ll tell you about it later. For now, let's go sit back down. I need a drink.”

“Aye, sir,” you offered him a two fingered salute, shooting a small wink at him before turning and walking back to assume your prior position reclining against the chairs. He sighed deeply, watching the small swing of your hips in front of him and shaking his head. He whispered below his breath to vocalize his thoughts.

“This is why I went grey before fifty.” You turned and glanced at him over your shoulder with a sly smirk dancing at the corner of your lips.

“And what pretty grey hair you have, Mister Beckman.”

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missbeckman · 2 months

Text

Never Have I Ever! Red Hair Pirates (One Piece)

Part 2

You play a game of Never Have I Ever and secrets come to light that some crew would rather forget. Reader x Red Hair Pirates FLUFF (Female reader implied)

You walk onto the deck after finishing documenting the last battle since Shanks had assigned you the ship scribe and roll your eyes as the rest of the crew sits in a circle drinking and laughing. You didn't mind a drink here and there but sometimes pirates could be a little excessive when it came to booze and celebrating after a successful battle.

Shanks spots you and waves you over wearing his trademark drunken grin, 'come play with us,' he slurs, and brings the bottle in his hand up to his lips.

You roll your eyes again and approach the circle, 'what are you guys playing?'

Benn notices you looking for an empty spot since there were none and immediately pulls you down to sit on his lap, 'never have I ever doll.'

Yasopp hands you a bottle of unopened wine, 'you take it in turns saying something you haven't done, and if someone has done the thing they have to drink and tell the story.'

Benn squeezes your thigh and smirks, 'We're about to find out some of your secrets, hit us with your best shot.'

You uncork the wine and take a large swig, you had a bone to pick with Benn for embarrassing you in town earlier and you had just the right ammunition to take away his smugness.

'Okay, never have I ever...' you pause, and everyone in the circle leans in a little closer because you didn't share a lot about yourself, '...never have I ever seen my captain's dick.'

Benn scowls at you, 'You little minx, I told you that in private.'

You pout, 'Drink up and spill old man, unless our beloved captain wants to tell the story.'

Shanks howls with laughter, 'Benn's seen my dick several times. You jealous little lady?'

'Seven...' you stutter.

Benn pretty much finishes his whole drink before talking, 'I never initiated any of them, that's all on Shanks.'

However what shocks you next is that one by one the rest of the guys start drinking, and if your jaw could hit the deck it would as Shanks continues laughing.

'He showed me in the kitchen when I was prepping vegetables, compared it against a bunch of carrots,' Lucky says with a grimace, 'it took me a while to pick up another carrot.'

'Rockstar and I were fishing and he simply whipped it out,' Lime Juice says calmly, 'we promised never to talk about it again.'

'It wasn't long after the formation of the crew. We got drunk and had a dick measuring contest,' Yasopp speaks up, 'it sobered me right up.'

Hongo clicks his tongue, 'it wasn't even medical. Like Rockstar and Lime Juice, I was minding my own business in the infirmary, and he waltzed in real pride in himself.

You notice Benn pout next to you, 'What's wrong? Did you think you were special?'

'Maybe a little,' Benn mumbles into his empty bottle.

You find your captain's eyes and he's smirking at you mischievously, 'I'm going to like playing this game with you, everyone tells you their secrets.'

The game abruptly ended after your one and only turn, the crew wanting to drown their sorrows, and a lot more booze was consumed to forget the image of Shank's dick.

You finish your wine and decide to leave the pity party and head towards the back of the ship to get a better view of the stars. You were pretty satisfied with the carnage you'd caused, maybe now you wouldn't be teased or pranked as much.

'You never answered my earlier question,' Shanks slurs from behind you.

You spin around and see Shanks leaning casually against the railing, 'err what was the question, captain?'

Shanks saunters towards you, 'You jealous you haven't seen your captain's dick? You're the odd one out.'

You shake your head and cover your eyes as Shanks's hand goes to the waistband of his pants, your cheeks blushing, 'I'm not jealous, I wanted to get back at Benn for embarrassing me. Please keep it in your pants captain.'

You gasp as you feel Shanks's arm go around you pulling you against his chest, feeling the fabric of his pants on your legs so you don't have to worry and open your eyes, 'you're going to give me a heart attack one day captain.'

Shanks ruffles your hair, 'I'll never make you feel uncomfortable. But when you're ready to see your first dick I'll make sure it's mine.'

You grew up on an island full of women, so until meeting Shanks and the rest of the crew you had limited knowledge of men. After agreeing to join the crew because you wanted an adventure you slowly started your education of men. Maybe pirates shouldn't have been your first introduction.

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missbeckman · 2 months

Text

Give (in) and Take (me) - (Beckman x Reader)

Art by shibama_TK9

Word Count: ~8.7k

Now please come enjoy prodding the big gruff man (who just wants to treat you right) until he snaps

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Even so, it’s appreciated,” you reasserted, giving him a winning smile and stalling his heart. “Now can I ask another favor of you?”

“Well…” you trailed off, just to make him squirm, “I can think of lots of things you could do for me. I’m having trouble picking my favorite.”

“Darlin’, how many drinks you got in you?” There was genuine concern in the question, mixing with a touch of incredulity. You scoffed at it all.

“That it does,” Beckmann conceded. The bare affection in his voice and eyes while he said it had you flushing, finding care much more difficult to process than lust. “Now my task?”

“And where is that?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone steady.

“Aye, darlin’, that I will.” The honesty in his words stoked your courage back into a steady burn even better than the one brought on by the hard drinks.

“You’re drunk,” he weakly protested.

“You should look for another man to share your body,” he tried again, this time managing to sound assertive through the breathiness of his voice.

“Do you really want another man touching me?” you bit back at him.

“I want you,” you moaned, pushing all the genuine need into your voice that you could.

“Pretty girl, if you keep touching me like that,” his speech was interrupted by a poorly restrained moan, “I’m not gonna be able to keep my head.”

“Then don’t,” you encouraged, voice rushed and ravenous and pulling him to the depths of his urges in his new favorite siren song.

“Darlin’, you deserve better than some back alley fu-”

“I’ll happily be a slut if it's for you,” you breathed out before you could think, sounding nearly in a trance from his sudden dominant behavior.

The declaration had his cock jumping and his knees weak.

“Darlin’,” he moaned, voice stretched thin by his taut, straining need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“No,” he rumbled against your lips. “You’re just going to take what I give you.”

“Beckman,” you whined back to him between your continued fervent kisses, “let me touch you.”

“I want you,” you moaned in complaint. Though your voice was warbly with want, your tone was way too petulant to be considered begging. Even so, it was testing his resolve.

“You’ll have me,” he answered gruffly.

“On your toes, slut,” he ordered.

“Hold that wall and keep your voice down,” Beckman instructed, “Unless you’re such a whore you need an audience.”

“Beckman,” you moaned in frustration. “Give me more, I -ahhh- I need it.”

“Beckman,” you whined out, catching the way it made his breath hitch over your skin. “More, harder.”

“Please,” you gasped, near truly sobbing in need. “Pleeeeease, fuck me harder, Beck, fuck me faster, please, just -hhhah- just need more.”

Stuck on the start of the encounter, he kept repeating a favored phrase to you - “So good, darlin’, such a good fucking slut”.

“Your slut,” you panted, “only -hnngh- yours.”

“That’s right, darlin’,” he rasped, “only mine.”

“Beckman, please, need you -hahhn- need you to cum in me,” you begged, tone broken from all your moaning.

Looking him straight in the eyes, you fought to sing along properly through your bubbling giggles.

“I took that lass and smacked her ass

Said darlin you’re comin’ with me”

“Ain’t got a hall but we’ll use the wall

Just give me an hour or three”

You gave him a sweet smile but turned it coy, your attitude sneaking back as your mind stabilized. “You’ve got one to convince me to keep you.”

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