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rayraelleaizawa · 1 month

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There better be a part 2 of "they say something hurtful in an argument" where they realized they fucked up. I swear on God's name I will not stop crying if you don't.

P.s: very good writing keep it up! ❤️

Side Note: I didnt think that there would be so many requests on part 2, so thank you all for the requests and the support! It helps staying motivated to keep writing :) I hope you'll like this!

Making up after an argument

Part 1: They say something hurtful in an argument

Tags: hurt/comfort, slight angst, making up

Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman, Dracule Mihawk

Shanks

He feels bad about what he said right after he saw that flash of hurt on your face, the sadness in your eyes and your quiet apology. Shanks immediately wanted to go after you when you left the room, but he was so wrung up in his blanket that he first had to untangle himself before he could go after you. He didnt care how he looked like, his shirt was all the way open, his pants were pulled up above his knee on one leg and on the other it hung down normally and his hair was a mess too. His shoes were completly forgotten somewhere in the room.

When he opened the door from his cabin with a rush and walked outside into the hallway, you were long gone. He instantly went looking for you, starting on deck and working all the way down.

His crewmembers, especially his closest friends, gave him weird looks and concerned stares, but he ignored all of their questions and just ran around looking for you. When he finally finds you, crying on the floor in a dark storage room, he felt a pang go through his heart.

He slowly came closer to you, not wanting to startle you, and started talking quietly.

"Hey, sweet cheeks" he said, sitting down next to you. "Is it alright if i touch you?" he said as he carefully laid his hand on your ellbow.

Seeing you in this state made him want to just wrap his arms around you, pull you close and kiss you all over and apologize to you a thousand times, but he held himself back. This wasnt what you needed right now.

When you didnt react to his touch, he laid his other hand on your shoulder. Shanks tried to catch your eyes, but your face was burried in your legs and your hands were shielding your head from him.

"Darling please look at me" he pleaded, and slowly you raised your head. He laid his other hand on your cheek and his warmth immediately comforted you, but you didnt want to give into his warmth. When Shanks saw your tear struck face and this unbearable sadness in your eyes, he mentally cursed himself for saying those reckless words.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I had no right to let my hangover frustration out on you. Please, forgive me. I love you, my sweet little dove" he tried to apologize.

"Am I really the reason?" you quietly asked, hiccuping from all the crying.

"What?" Shanks looked at you confused.

"Am I the reason why you keep drinking so much? Am I that insufferable?" you cried out, your body shaking at the thought.

"No, no! That wasnt what I meant, please, listen to me! You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I cant lose you. What I said was mean and a lie. Please believe me when I say I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me that I didnt mean those words."

Shanks was on the verge of crying himself. The thought that he made his partner feel so bad made him hate himself, swearing to never get this drunk again that he would hurt his lover. He was scared you'd leave him. He wanted to make you feel better, but that was a difficult task when he himself was the reason why you were crying and shaking on the floor. He carefully put his arms around you and placed you on his lap and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

"It's okay, cry how much you want. Be angry at me, hit me, let all your feelings out on me, I deserve it. But please" he swallowed hard "please dont be sad. Please dont leave me. Not because of my stupid mouth."

You looked up at him when he said that. You noticed his pained face and the fear in his eyes. A fear that he messed up for good. You still felt hurt, but you knew Shanks would never toy with your feelings like that. He was serious about this apology.

You pressed your head in his chest and your tears started to dry out. After a time of silence and him gently stroking your back, you murmered a "I love you, you drunk idiot" into his chest. Shanks felt a stone fall from his heart as he chuckled a bit, leaned down and kissed you on the head. "I love you too, so much pumpkin. I'll never hurt you again. I'll stop drinking so much. Pirate promise"

Benn Beckman

Beckman sighed for the seemingly hundreth time. He still stood on deck, leaning against the railing as he thought about what he had said. He didnt meant to hurt you, but he knew giving you a bit space for now was the right thing. When you calmed down he planned on talking to you, but right now he also needed to sort his own thoughts.

He regretted his words instantly after they left his mouth but the damage was done. He sighed again. Usually he would have smoked at least half a package of cigarettes by now, but he just couldnt bring himself to touch one. Those stupid things were the reason why he made his partner sad. No, bullshit. He couldnt blame anyone else than himself for this. He fucked up.

With one last sigh he left his place at the railing and went underdeck to find you. He had a guess where you were and what you'd be doing, so he went straight to your cabin. He calmed himself with a deep breath in and breath out before he knocked on your door and then slowly opened it.

He wasnt suprised at what he saw. You were at your desk, working away on whatever was laying on your table. Benn carefully stepped into your room and closed the door. You didnt give him any sign that you acknowledged his presence. He walked over to you and waited if you'd say something.

Benn wasnt sure how to approach, so he looked at the papers on your desk. When he saw how shaky your handwriting was and how the ink mixed with waterdrops at some places he sighed again, feeling helpess as he made his own partner cry.

"Hey, I'm sorry about what I said. It wasnt right of me. I let out my stress on you eventho you were only worried about me. I'm deeply sorry."

Benn apologized, but you didnt respond nor did you look at him. He got restless, the uneasy feeling in him became stronger with every second you didnt say anything. You were just writing away on your papers.

"Buttercup, please. I am really sorry. I didnt want to hurt your feelings. You know I love you deeply."

There was a begging undertone in Benns voice by now.

"You dont smell like smoke" was the only answere he got, and hearing your voice immediately eased his anxious feelings a bit.

"I just...couldnt bring myself to touch them" he admitted.

You turned to look at him.

"Maybe i should be upset because of you more often then?"

He breathed out as he sensed that you werent that upset at him anymore. There was a joking undertone in your words, but it was clear that you still were hurt. He laid his hand on yours and leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Please no. I cant handle this. I cant handle seeing you upset. I'm sorry, princess, i'll really try my best to smoke less. Please, I want to make things right again, I-"

He stopped when you laid your hand on his cheek, softly caressing it.

"I know that you're sincer when you start rambling, Benn Beckman."

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk knew he fucked up big time when he wanted to go look for you but couldnt find you. He noticed your belongings were gone, and then saw footprints leaving away from the castle. Your footprints.

It was starting to become night so he immediately ran after you, following your steps through the woods. He prayed the whole time that you were safe, that nothing happened to you, that you didnt get injured because of his inability to deal with his emotions the right way.

It started raining and it got darker and darker. He hoped he'll find you in time. The nights are cold and the animals in the woods can be even more dangerous at night. Mihawk ran even faster as raindrops hit him more frequently, and soon it was pouring down. His clothes were complety soaked, but he couldnt care less. All he could think of was to find you and bring you back to safety.

While Mihawk dashed throught the woods with experience, you on the other hand stumbled around without orientation. Now that the darkness started to rise, you couldnt see anything anymore. The trees were so close to each other that you couldnt orientate yourself on the stars, and barely any moonlight came through either.

You couldnt count anymore how often you tripped or fell down a slope. Your arms, legs and face were covered in small scratches as you continued to push trough. You werent even entirely sure where you were going, but all you knew was that you wanted to put as much distance in between you and Hawkeye as possible.

Tears still welled up at the thought of him. Those soft moments between you two all seemed like a lie. You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts and carried on. You kept on walking, but a root stood out of the ground and made you trip again. You fell and slithered down another small slope and just as you cursed to yourself you heard a noise.

You stayed quietly on the ground as you listened, not sure if you misheared. No, there were definetely steps. But they were too heavy to be from a human. And Mihawk wouldnt come either. So what was that?

Then you heard a sniffing sound and a roar. And that's when you also got your answer. It was a bear. You tried to stay as calm as possible, but soon you realized why the bear roared so much. You fell in between the bear and it's cup. Which was the worst thing you could do - get in between a mother bear and her child.

You slowly started to crawl backwards, but the mother bear roared again and you heard her coming closer. You tried to hold your breath as you saw her shadowy figure infront of you, and the moment the bear roared almost into your face, you tried to stand up and run away, but of course that didnt work with a bear in front of you. You fell on your butt and tried to ready yourself for the heavy impact with the bears paw which she had raised, when a tall figure was infront of you suddenly, holding a big sword you'd recognise everyhwere. Mihawk. He wielded his sword and cut the ground, and the bear mother and her cup both ran away.

When he turned to face you, you couldnt decipher what his facial expression meant. You sat there, on the ground, cuts all over you and wet from the rain as he suddenly quickly walked up to you. You wanted to stand up, to talk with him, but before you could even say his name he was on the ground with you, kissing you feverishly.

You were confused about what was going on suddenly, but Mihawk pressed you against him in a way you couldnt escape. Not that you really wanted to, cause you felt so many emotions in this one kiss. Fear, anger, sadness, relieve... it seemed like all of those pent up emotions he couldnt let out came through in this kiss.

After what seemed like eternity did he break the kiss, panting as he looked at you.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad you're alive. I- I love you."

Was all he said and you looked at him in shock. It was a rare treat to hear those words from him, and you didnt expect to ever hear them again. But here he was, saving you in the middle of the night, telling you his feelings.

"I-I know that you're always worried when I leave. I just didnt know how to break it to you when i had to leave for so long. I not only see the disappointment and worry in your face, I also see fear and sadness whenever i leave. I just...I didnt know how I should tell you that I had to leave for months, fighting some idiots without seeing you all sad about the fact that I might not come back? That's why i left without saying anything. I know i hurt you, my love. I know I said something cruel back in the castle. But this castle is not my home when you arent in it. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didnt know how to express myself. Please, forgive me. I'll work on it."

You only stared in shock as Mihawk talked about his feelings so much. But then a small smile broke out on your lips.

"You're an idiot. But you're my idiot."

He didnt respond, he only blushed which you didnt see in the dark nights, but then he picked you up and started carrying you back to your home.

#akagami no shanks #benn beckman #red hair shanks #shanks #shanks x reader #beckman #benn beckman x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece #one piece shanks #beckman x reader #hawkeye

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fanaticsnail · 20 days

Text

Kind And Gentle

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,100+

Synopsis: Your shoulders and back ached with a pain you had attempted to cast aside as you went about your duties. The ache turned excruciating, your focus now being taken hostage between the gripping pain. Fortunately, the grip of two firm hands found your body and eased you through the torment.

Themes: Benn Beckman x reader, Friends to lovers, confessions of love, suggestive dialogue, massaging - reader receiving, pain, aching, yearning, small kiss, Shanks is a meanie, swearing, teasing, Beckman is a softie, Beckman is a gentleman, term of endearment "Darlin'" used - it's just what I associate him saying.

Notes: Pure self-indulgence fic, procrastinating while I should be going through my WIPs. My shoulder hurts, guys. Needed this to get out of my system and get through the pain.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff @missbeckman @tiredemomama

Pain. White and hot, swelling and encumbering. This was what you were experiencing in the middle of your spine; just a little to the right side of your body.

The ache never eased, no matter what position you slept in, nor adjusting your posture throughout the day. It was unending, the torment which knit your muscles together and cemented them in place.

You clenched your eyes tightly shut, bracing yourself against the wooden hallway wall as you rotate your neck in a circle atop your shoulders slowly. Arching your back, you winced as the knot continued to integrate itself in a woven entanglement of painful muscle beneath your skin.

Biting back a whimper, you tried as you might to reach the cursed divot beneath your flesh, whining quietly as your fingertips barely brushed against the surface of the painful coil. The ache called to you, the burden causing a small tremor in your lips from the electric heat of the hidden wound.

Shaking your head, you huffed out a breath as you attempted to soldier on about your daily chores. Ignoring the tight ache beneath your skin with a deep grimace written on your lips, you finally gave into your pain and balanced your hands against the wooden beam atop the deck of the Red-Force.

The sea breeze hit your nose, relaxing you briefly before the pain eclipsed all your senses. Brain foggy with anguish, lips parted and panting, eyes frantic and wife: you could bear it no longer. You muted a cry, muffling it within your mouth while you tried to release the elastic coil in your back by twisting your torso.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you curse in a soft whisper, your brows rising in a pain-riddled peak in your forehead. You moaned out in a soft whimper, praying nobody could hear your weakness as you tried to reach for the spot a second time.

The band was bordering on excruciating, your mind contemplating whether or not to seek out Hongo for medical attention due to the intensity of the pain. Just as you began to turn on your way, two strong hands clapped over your shoulders: thumbs moving in rough circles against your skin.

“I got you, Darlin’,” the gruff voice Shanks’ first mate whispered in a calming rumble, “Just tell me when I'm gettin’ close to it.”

Benn Beckman. It was always Benn Beckman. Any time any of the crew needed anything, no task too small, no feat too great: Beckman was the champion you had all grown accustomed to rely on. Leaning back into his touch, you hung your neck low to grant him greater access

“Oh-... mmmf-... -‘kay,'' you whimpered, curving your back down to expose more of your spine to him, “It's not-... Hhah-... It's not normally this-...fucking, shit-... -this bad.” A small click of his tongue snapped at you in empathy as his thumbs brushed against the coil of pain.

Although your friendship with Beckman ran deep, you had never engaged with him physically before. You respected one another, adored one another, and were as close as two crewmates could be. Two sides of a coin, twin edges of a blade, the gunpowder and the spark that lit the fuse - this was how you were described by your red-headed captain.

But as his thumbs sought out your deepest pain, all your thoughts escaped you. There was nothing else, just: Beckman, his focus and his expert touch.

“Just a touch to the right-... ahh, Becks!” you cried out as his digits flicked over the painful swell beneath your flesh. Huffing out pants of breath, you sobbed in strained relief as he continued massaging your body.

“Oh, fuck. It's there, isn't it?” he whispered, the thumb of his right hand pressed firmly against the tight knot as his left hand braced you against the side-beam of the boat, “There it is, Darlin’. I found it. There's the spot.” You arched your back within his broad hands, your arms stiffening in firm pillars against the deck as he prodded the painful peak in your back.

“Oh, that's it! Right there, that's the spot,” you mewled out, crying and gasping for him as he untangled your muscles with his rough, practiced hands. Just as he pressed his strength further against you, you winced out a strangled, “Fuck, not so rough! Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!”

“Darlin’, this is me being kind and gentle,” he bullied his thumb into your skin, stapling you to the wall of the ship by his hips and holding you steady with his hand perched on your left shoulder, “You need a bit of rough treatment. Hold still, let me coax it out of you.”

“Becks,” you whispered out his name, lulling your head back on your shoulders as he continued to pry, paw and claw the knot apart with his right hand, “Becks it hurts.”

“I know, I know,” his gruff voice reassured you, the gentle hold of his left hand against your shoulder contradicted the right hand that bruised your muscles, “It'll all be over soon. I'm nearly there, I can feel your body moving it with me. Just hold on.”

His thumb pressed an intentional swipe up, directing the pain up your back and into the peaked corner of your shoulder. His brows knit low in deep concentration, prompting him to suck in an empathetic breath in anticipation.

“Ohh… You're gonna hate me,” he whispered in your ear, kicking your feet apart with his heavy boots before anchoring his pelvis against your glutes to hold you firmer against the ship's wooden railing, “You need an elbow.”

“No, no, no! Not an elbow!” you cried, just as his right elbow drew itself against your spongy flesh, “Becks! It's-... nnmfph-... too much! Ahh! Too much!”

Attempting to break from his grip, you shook yourself away from his hands, only for your body to immediately betray you. Bent over the railing, your back immediately became unraveled by a firm grip and a strong elbow to the point that ailed you.

“Oh hush, you need it,” he barked in a soft tone, eclipsing your concern with an intentional rotation of his elbow against your shoulder, “Be a good little thing and take it.” He was moving the vines of the entanglement away from the source point, breaking it down beneath his body and flushing it out with heavy swipes.

Benn Beckman was experiencing the toughest battle he had ever had the displeasure in engaging with. He was trying to tune out how good you sounded calling out his name in pants and whines, his own empathetic huffs and groans mixing harmoniously with yours as he gripped your flesh.

“Benn Beck-...fuck-... It's right there. Right there, Becks! Don't stop!” you whimpered, your voice high and your desperation showcased in the soft pants of your breath. The release of your entangled flesh was just within Beckman's grasp, prompting him to switch back to using his fingers to expel the pressure beneath your skin.

“I got you. There ya’ go,” he confirmed again, expanding the heel of his palm against the binding presence of the last of the entanglement, “Breathe through it with me, I'm not gonna stop ‘til you're done.”

“Oh, fuck Beckman,” your eyes glazed over, your lips parting and crying out in bliss as his skillful ministrations cast out the pressure in your shoulder as a priest would cleanse unholy ground to make their sanctuary.

“Th-That’s it. Oh m-my fuck-,” you whined back into his hands, “You're so good. Your hands feel so good.” As the last of the knot fled your shoulder, a warm chuckle rumbled from behind you. Beckman's laugh brought you comfort, his softness depicted in this small moment as he held you in his arms.

His firm hands turned soft, caressing your shoulders in tender, gentle touches. He molded both of your shoulders within his palms, your body becoming jelly beneath his rough and calloused hands. You moaned softly as he maneuvered your body in a perfect arch against his chest, the rumble of his chuckle reverberating within your back to vibrate within your chest.

“Better?” he whispered in the shell of your ear, easing his body back to enable you to escape his broad cage. Instead of breaking away from his body, you relaxed into his arms, sighing out a warm breath of contentment.

“Thank you, Becks. You're bloody amazing at that,” you praised him, feeling light and free of the bonds that confined you, “Why did you offer to help me with it?”

“There was something in your face that told me you needed it,” he shrugged, huffing a small chuckle out of his nose and leant down to rumble out a whisper in your ear, “Always wanna help you, Darlin’.”

“Oh Becks, I could kiss you,” you turned in his arms, gazing through half-hooded eyelids up at him, “Can I?”

He smirked down at you, a small pink due flushing his cheeks with a subtle dust, bobbing his head in a soft nod to grant you permission. As you circled your arms over his neck and began to draw him closer to your lips, a chorus of barked laughter and an uproar of cheers echoed along the hull of the ship. Clapping hands, whistles and hoots erupted from your crew now surrounding the two of you.

“Oh, Beckman,” your captain cackled at you, his right hand clapping over his heart, “In public, big guy? And you,” he pointed his index finger at you, his wolfy grin painted in a drawn-out taunting smirk, “You sly little fox. Gettin’ the big man to take you right on the deck?”

“What?” you questioned your captain in a warning tone, floating your eyes between the rest of the crew gathered on the deck beside him. Shanks’ playful twinkle fluttered beneath his weighty eyelashes.

“Be gentle with me, Becks,” he mocked in a needy moan not too dissimilar from your own, before hardening his features and deepening his voice in a grunted, “You need a bit of rough treatment,” he commented gruffly. The color drained from your face, eyes widening and lips parting once again in bashful horrification.

“Oh right there, Becks, don't stop,” Shanks continued his performance, a small warning began to rise within Beckman's throat in a rumbled growl. Breaking out of your embrace, he grimaced at the red-head in front of him.

“Enough, Cap’n,” Beckman snarled, reaching within his pocket and pulling out his lighter with his left hand, fishing out a cigarette to follow, “Got out a knot, s’all. You know how shit they are.” Beckman ignited the end, taking a lengthy drag and exhaling a puff away from your face.

“Really? That's all?” Shanks cried out a laugh, the crew echoing his unashamed and carefree joy at the notion, “I thought I saw some hips moving together, Becks. You were letting some of your own groans out too, mewling like a wh-.”

“-Or should I relay half of the bullshit you curse out when Hongo releases the knots in your own shoulder?” Beckman smirked, his eyes daring his captain to say another embarrassing quip. After a pregnant pause, silent tension only momentary before another uproar of laughter barked out amongst the Red-Hair pirates.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm done,” Shanks waved his hand in the air, shooting you a small wink before turning to face his crew, “What say we make port, huh? Resupply with some fresh drinks, a hot meal, some good company, and a comfortable sleep on dry land?”

“Aye, sir!” the crew echoed in unison, your own confirmation falling from your lips as you began maneuvering around the first-mate to resume your duties. Just as you passed Beckman's shoulder, a firm hand shot out and gripped your forearm to hold you in place.

“Beckman?” you asked, turning to meet his eyes. You floated your own between his, hovering your attention to fixate on him completely, “Everything alright, Sir?”

“Goin’ back to ‘Sir’ again, after all that,” he murmured, barely above comprehension. Your quizzical feeling never left you, still hovering between the lenses of his glassy orbs.

“How you feeling?” he asked as he pressed down the filter end of the cigarette beneath the pad of his thumb, placing the butt-end in the small drawer attached to the hull of the ship, “I get it all out, or the ache still hangin’ in there?”

Humming in thought, you rotated your right arm and felt the ghost of your prior pain simmer down and flee from your form. The small pinch only remained behind in memory, but the small remnants of the ache threatened to return.

“It's gone for now, I think,” you uttered with a small shrug, “It'll likely begin the slow journey back up my spine in a pinch.” Beckman hummed in thought, nodding along as he checked over your body for any changes.

After a small lull, you held your ground as the atmosphere once again fell into awkwardness. You shook your head to stifle your nerves, sucking in a breath to elevate your courage.

“Can I buy you a drink or two when we get to port?” you ask him, eyes dropping to the ground and hands laced behind you, “An expression of my gratitude for you helping me out?”

“You askin’ me out on a date?” Beckman disguised his growing smile by arching himself away from you, loosening the tie in his hair and beginning to restyle it.

“And if I am?” you ask, still avoiding his gaze by holding your eyes firmly against the floor, “What then?”

“What then, Darlin’,'' he smirked, his eyes softening as his hands found your hips, “Is that I'd accept.” He pulled you flush with him, prompting your eyes to widen and search his gray orbs in your shock, “I wouldn't mind spending an evening with you, havin’ drinks in a quiet corner for a change.”

“It would be a nice change,” you confessed, eyes again falling soft for the first mate. He leant his hips back on the wooden railing, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. His index finger lingered on your chin, holding your eyes against his.

“What was it for you? To have you finally make a move after all this time?” he asked, his eyes turning playful as he looked down at you through half-hooded eyes, “The hands or the elbow?”

“I think it was the words,” you confessed with a small laugh, “Not used to having the Great Benn Beckman whisper: ‘be a good little thing and take it.’ Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm being honest,” a small choked pause fell from Beckman's lips, your own question now posed to him.

“What made you accept a drink with me?” you searched his eyes quizzically, pursing your lips as you continued, “We've served together for so long, what made you consider it now?”

“Oh Darlin', I've always considered it. More than considered it,” he huffed out a chuckle, bringing your face closer to his with the curl of his index finger, “Just didn't know how much I wanted it ‘til you started sayin' my name like that.” He hovered his lips over yours, his breath still scented with the sour, smoky tang of his last cigarette as he beckoned you in.

“Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm bein' honest,” he parroted your words back at you before finally claiming your lips beneath his own in a chaste kiss. The attention he gave your lips was brief, ending contact almost as soon as they touched.

He pulled away from your lips, noticing your pout and slight agitation at the hastiness the kiss ended. Chuckling, he leant over your ear and confessed his intentions further.

“Cap’n’s watchin’,” he nodded over to where Shanks’ taunting eyes and winning smile wordlessly teased you both, “Don't wanna give him more ammunition to tease you with, Darlin'. No matter how much I really wanna kiss you.”

“I owe you more,” you hummed up at him with a soft smile, tucking the loose strand of hair away from his forehead and behind his ear, “Anything I can do to repay my growing debt to you? More than a couple drinks later, a little kiss, or taking care of your duties for you today?”

“Just the promise of your company later will do for now,” he chuckled, leaning into the heel of your palm with his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“Aye, Sir,” you smirked at him, giving his cheek two gentle taps before returning back to duty with a newfound rejuvenation. Your limbs felt lighter, your body felt freer and your head felt less foggy with the prior pain you felt.

Shanks sauntered over towards his first-mate, smirking and kicking up his feet all along the way in a playful dance. Beckman shook his head, reaching for another cigarette and lit the end. Shanks leaned his head against Beck’s shoulders, uttering not a single word as he fluttered his eyelashes, wiggled his eyebrows and clicked his tongue at the broody, larger man.

“Don’t even start,” Beckman growled under his breath. Shanks smiled wider, jolting his right index finger into Beckman’s side as he hummed up a playful mock at him.

“But you finally made a move, big man,” Shanks chuckled, nudging him with his left shoulder, “How long’s it been now? Two, maybe three years of longing, yearning and lusting from afar, hm?”

“Four,” Beckman commented gruffly, inhaling a deep breath of smoke in his mouth and holding it still behind his lips, “And I remember saying: ‘don’t even start’.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going, I’m going,” Shanks held his right hand up in defence, an extra buzz in his step at the knowledge that Beckman and you had finally allowed a small crack in the door open to engage with one another this way. A small chuckle erupted in Shanks’ voice, his own amusement adamant over his features.

“Right there Becks, don’t stop,” Shanks’ voice whined again in a needy moan, before growling out a rumbled mock of, “I’m not gonna stop ‘til you’re done,” he laughed, turning back over his shoulder, “Honestly, Beckman. Show a bit of composure, man.”

Beckman’s blush scorched scarlet on his features, prompting him to thrust the butt of his cigarette into the drawer and begin to charge at his Captain. Shanks shrieked out a giddy cry of amusement at his first-mate.

“Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!” Shanks laughed, turning tail and began running away in glee from successfully taunting his first mate. The barrelling boot heels of the first mate almost managed to catch up to the Captain immediately, but Shanks continued successfully darting away from Beckman’s disciplinary grasp.

#one piece #x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #red-hair pirates #beckman #op benn beckman #op benn beckman x reader #red hair shanks

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mangekyuou · 4 months

Note

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.”

379 notes · View notes

sordidmusings · 3 months

Text

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

(˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

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.”

#beckman x reader #benn beckman #one piece #thirst hours #benn beckman x reader #beckman x you #beckman x y/n #x reader #fem reader #one piece smut #benn beckman smut #x reader smut #my writing

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jintaka-hane · 2 months

Text

Want You Bad

(Beckman x f!reader)

Pt. 1 Right For The Job

Masterlist

Pairing: benn beckman x!reader Summary: Starting a new job is always a challenge, especially when one of your bosses seems aloof and distant with you. What's wrong with him? Is there anything you can do to earn his trust? The story of how Benn Beckman struggles to control his attraction to you onboard. Word count: 1800 Notes: Why do I continue writing about this gentleman? Because I can't stop. This is part 1 of probably... 4. Warnings: forbidden love, oblivious to love, friends to lovers. Tag list: @i-am-vita @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 in case you're interested!

"Not bad," you thought, quite pleased with yourself, your eyes darting from one man to the other, trying to decipher what they were thinking.

You had just completed one of the most demanding job interviews of your life, and both the questioning and the practical test had gone rather well. The rigorous testing and skills demonstration had encompassed various aspects aimed at evaluating your proficiency in maritime knowledge and practical abilities. This included boat handling, from small to medium-sized vessels, understanding meteorological phenomena and their effects on sea currents, recognizing wind patterns, and managing crisis protocols at sea.

In record time and with a stopwatch in hand, you were required to display your ability to tie various maritime knots, adjust ropes, furl sails, and climb the rigging - all without feeling dizzy.

Questions regarding survival techniques and military medicine were also asked, inquiring about first aid procedures: cleaning wounds, disinfecting, stitching up, applying creams to burns and explosion wounds… The interviewers even asked you to apply a tourniquet to one of them.

When it came to social skills, you demonstrated that you were good at connecting with people and working in teams. You had a good sense of humor, and you were loyal if you felt your team was working for a just cause.

And lastly, you showcased your specialty: making precise shots at considerable distances. You adeptly handled various firearms, with your favorite being the revolver for its lightness and practicality. While you were somewhat less enthusiastic about swords, daggers, and other bladed weapons, you could still wield them proficiently when required. You were tasked with shooting at ten different targets, and you effortlessly hit them all without difficulty.

You had, in a manner of speaking, nailed it.

All that remained was for the two men who had interviewed you to deliberate and decide whether you would become part of the red-haired crew, or if, on the contrary, you would have to continue looking for work on other vessels docked at the pier.

"Thanks, Y/n. Just give us a sec to discuss it, okay?," the captain said, escorting you to the door of the cabin.

You stepped out onto the deck and settled on a bench, eagerly awaiting a response. To make the wait more entertaining, you retrieved your revolver, still steaming, from its holster and began to clean the gunpowder that was on it.

The voices of the two men could faintly be heard by the door, but you couldn't quite make out what they were saying. It seemed that if they had to discuss it, one of them was in favor of you being suitable for the job, while the other was not. You could imagine who was who... as during the interview, the captain seemed enthusiastic, while the first mate remained serious and cautious. You just hoped they would reach an agreement soon.

"Well, what do you think? Shall we keep her?" asked the red-haired captain, reclining in his chair and casually placing both feet on the table.

"Not sure, Shanks..." responded the first mate with a somewhat concerned expression.

"Why not? She aced all the tests, she's perfect. Fits right in. It's a yes from me."

"Not sure..." Beckman began to pace slowly around the room, hands behind his back, deep in thought.

"What's bothering you? That she's the only woman on board? I don't think it'll be a problem for the lads, they'll know how to behave... We just gotta lay down some ground rules, and everything will stay in order," Shanks remarked.

"The third shot was almost a miss..." Beckman stopped right in front of the table where Shanks was sitting and looked him straight in the eye.

Shanks lowered his feet, sat up in his chair, and leaned towards his friend, resting his arm on the table. "The third one... and almost... in a job interview where she was probably nervous. Come on Beck, she's one hell of a sniper, Yassop will love her."

Beckman maintained eye contact with his captain, struggling to conjure any objections against hiring the woman. After some pondering, not a single negative argument came to his mind that he dared to voice aloud. The woman was exceptional, and who was he to fight against his captain's eagerness? He let out a resigned sigh.

"Is that a yes?" Shanks' smile grew so wide it almost took up his entire face.

"A’right," he conceded, crossing his arms.

"Settled then!" Shanks said happily, hitting the table with the palm of his hand. "Let her know. Ask her to pack up and get settled on the ship today”. He rose to his feet and retrieved the cloak hanging over the back of the chair. “I'll talk to the crew to inform the lads”.

“Aye”.

Beckman stepped out onto the deck and found you sitting on the bench, still cleaning your revolver as you waited. Upon seeing him, you immediately holstered the gun and stood up, facing each other.

An awkward silence hung between you.

With an scrutinizing glance, he studied you, slowly withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from one of his pockets and extracting one. He tapped it against the packet several times, as though he intended to compact the tobacco inside.

His presence was imposing. You observed his rifle snugly secured to his sash, its stock pointing upward and aimed towards the ground. With just a quick glance, you could tell it was a good gun, and you wondered if he would ever let you shoot it.

He cleared his throat, and your attention snapped back to his eyes.

"The captain wants you to settle on the ship today," he said, calmly placing the cigarette in his lips after speaking.

"YES!" You jumped and clasped your hands together in excitement before immediately realizing your lack of professionalism. "...I mean... thank you!" Your smile was broad.

He withdrew a match and struck it, the flame flickering to life. With a practiced hand, he brought it to the cigarette, shielding the flame from the wind to prevent it from extinguishing. For a moment, you considered lifting your own hand to assist him.

"Go fetch yer things; we'll set sail by mid-afternoon," he added, taking a deep drag.

You already had all your belongings waiting at home. Being a natural optimist, and fairly confident that you would impress them with your skills, you had packed your bags in case they set sail that same day. Your luggage wasn't many, nor were they numerous, as your possessions were scarce being a practical woman who liked to constantly change places to discover new horizons. A bit of practical clothing to allow you to move with agility, some slightly more formal dresses for special occasions, the two or three books you liked the most, and the heaviest to carry: your set of firearms.

"Alright, see you in a bit!" Turning around gracefully, you hurried down the gangway to disembark from the ship.

“Don't be late”, he ordered, exhaling the smoke slowly.

“I won't!”, you shouted without a backward glance.

He watched you sprint down the gangway and leap onto solid ground. You began to run along the pier and, for a moment, you stopped and turned around to see the magnificent galleon from afar. The ropes meticulously fastened, the wood clean and varnished, the cannons stowed yet poised for any confrontation; and the sails, proudly displaying the fierce image of the skull with red stripes crossing its left eye socket. You couldn't help but smile, unable to contain your happiness.

Your new home.

The enthusiasm on your face gave you an air of innocence that could melt even the most cold-hearted man, Beckman thought, as he rested his arms on the ship's railing, watching as you drifted further away from the ship.

You were enchanting ...

Too enchanting ...

Too enchanting for him ...

And that 's what had made him hesitate.

His foremost duty as first mate was to ensure the safety of everyone aboard, a task demanding a steady hand and a clear mind in challenging situations that could arise at sea. And he excelled at it, remaining physically and mentally composed when precision and concentration were required. He had a knack for focusing without being sidetracked and that's why Shanks and the rest of the crew relied on him.

Yet, during the interview, his concentration had wavered, his attention captured by every movement you made, captivated by the curve of your shoulders and the line of your neck as you aimed your revolver, resolute in hitting the target. Despite his extensive experience with women, he had never encountered one who, with just a single glance, could distract him so completely.

And that was a problem.

You would be a distraction.

You would be his distraction

But that wasn't reason enough to reject your application; it was his problem, not yours, and under no circumstances would he tell Shanks the truth behind his reluctant behavior, as it would only result in him laughing in his face. It was clear that you were an incredible woman, skilled in various nautical arts and prepared for combat… it was just right to accept that you were perfect for the job.

He should only maintain his professionalism and control his emotions while working with you, and perhaps ... perhaps as the days unfolded aboard, this attraction he felt for you would fade away. You would be like a challenge to him.

Shaking his head, he headed to the upper bowcastle where Shanks was delivering a speech to the men.

"Damn, if we'd crossed paths in a village tavern where I could've let loose, things would have been mighty different," he mused. He would have scrutinized your expertise in a field entirely different from the one you had been interviewed about, with a mattress serving as the stage for the trials.

Upon reaching the spot where the men gathered, Shanks paused and glanced at him, nodding slightly as an indication for him to come up and stand beside him. Stepping among the crew, he climbed the stairs and positioned himself next to Shanks, putting his hands on his pockets as he surveyed the men.

"... and that's why nobody's, and I mean nobody, is gonna get all lovestruck over her or lay a finger on her...”

Beckman rolled his neck to loosen the muscles and relieve some tension.

“... No peeking, no hitting on her, and definitely no making her feel weird; we'll treat her with respect and keep our mitts off her, got it?"

The men buzzed with excitement at the prospect of a new shipmate. It had been ages since they'd welcomed fresh faces aboard, and they were ready to seize any excuse for a celebration. Beckman observed the scene, inhaling and exhaling smoke from his lungs with a feigned calmness.

“Hey Yassop, looks like they've got you an intern!", Roux said, giving his friend a playful slap on the back.

“I hope she can handle her booze!”

Limejuice shook his head. “Ah, yeah, that is a must, not like the last one...”.

The breeze started to softly sway the rigging, indicating that the afternoon would be favorable for sailing just as they had anticipated.

“Get ready lads! We set sail in the afternoon!”

#jintaka stuff #benn beckman #benn beckman fiction #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman wives army #one piece #x reader #benn beckman x female reader #red haired pirates #beckman x reader #beckman

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stillxnunpxidintern · 1 month

Text

I keep having this thought, mainly if Marco and Beck are the partner cause they would make such good Papas, but works for anyone really.

So Reader is pregnant and wearing a jumpsuit, and their partner isn't able to keep their hands off the bump normally but when Reader is further along and wears a jumpsuit making the bump more prominent, their partner is finding it even harder to keep their hands off reader & bump, cause their like 'this is mine, I helped make it' and very proud at that, even they don't outwardly show it.

The is crew always teasing reader partner about it but Reader loves how their partner can't keep their hands off them and their spawn, lifting their belly and giving Reader a break for a few minutes off carrying that extra weight.

#one piece #benn beckman #marco the phoenix #reader #Marco x Reader #beckman x reader #whitebeard pirates #red hair pirates #benn beckman x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #one piece marco #one piece beckman

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nekassvariigs · 1 year

Text

Beckman x reader

CW: NSFW

It was fuzzy evening in a bar on a whole new island yet the atmospehere never changed. The guys were all about loud and rowdy never failing to keep good company aswell as drinking the whole taverns alcohol near dry.

You took in the sight, outside was pitch black light seeped out from within as a thin haze. Tankards clinking against one another the lesser known guys in the crew were all about trying to drink roux down the table.

One of the guys approached you from the side with an eager smile beckoning you to join them for the manpower.

"No, cmon you know its impossible to outdrink him."

"Who cares just come." He patted you on the shoulder pickingn you up between your armpits your whole entire body picked up like a long snake you got up from your seat finally, chair squeeking behind as you approached the rowdy bunch greeted by cheers and howls you greeted everyone getting a tankard from within the middle of the table.

Roux was tough compettition but that didnt stop you from the growing pride inside you to atleast try. Pehaps it was just because everyone was cheering as you gulped down the whole tankard, beer spilling from the corners of your mouth everyone cheered, you could feel your body tickle from the inside as it absorbed the alcohol slowly.

You grabbed another taking your time as eyes werent on you as much as they before, everyone was having a good time and you couldnt be more in element right now.

With pursed lips you pulled away from the large wooden tankard swallowing down the last sip for now.

"Excuse me for a bit, i need a smoke."

They all smiled quickly enjoying their banter, you walked away checking your pockets, nothing.

"Damn." you thought to yourself patting each pocket down not only were you out but every shop around was closed.

You started wondering who in the crew smoked. Not many of them did which left you out further and dryer than before. And just as you remembered there was one man always caught with a smoke nearby.

"First mate!" you used his formal title with a smile all too buzzed, his head turned to you with a small smile he had just stricken a cigarette for himself, he cracked the match in his palms looking up at your drunkenly flushed face.

"What is it dear?" He was always a man of compliments and you couldnt hide the smile that creeped on your face from the endearment.

"Could i borrow a cig? i ran dry." you noticed that theres a seat free by his table, your legs making way to rest a little he opened up the tightly folded box of neatly lined cigarettes passing it to you.

"Here." he spoke softly noticing the haze in your eyes and the droopy smile on your lips as you sobered up near his presence.

Your body perked up at the extended box you grabbed one out of the pack and put it between your fingers.

He was fast, before you even had a chance to ask for a light he had sticken the flint on his lighter your chest tingling a little at his subtle apporaches.

"Thank you~" you cooed meeting his gaze as you lowered yourself to the flame to catch fire to the tip of the smoke.

Smoke puffed from within your mouth as you finally got the thing to light, the first mate didnt take off his eyes from you not even for a second as you sat back into the chair crossing your legs as you enjoyed the smoke.

"What is it?" you asked patiently noticing his lingering gaze over you.

"First time ive actually seen you smoking is all. I know you do, just never 'seen it."

You puffed out a strand of smoke a small smirk creasing up your face.

"Really? I shoulda went to you sooner for spares." you sighed a little.

He picked up the beer infornt of him placing in by his lips to conceal a little knowing smile.

"That you should have. It aint pretty to see you walking in the guys' dorms late at night, leaves the wrong impression."

You choked a little on your own saliva face blushing in embarrasment as you tried to explain it.

"But what do you mean 'it aint pretty to see me walking in the guys dorms?' "

You tapped out the cigarette moving closer to the table.

"What i meant is i dont like seeing you going places you shouldnt." his lips glimmered from the booze, he looked at you sternly his voice was coarse, unusual from its smooth warmness.

Your whole body alerted at the change of atmosphere around you your legs squeezed tighter under the table you hid the emotion of amusement behind intrigued eyes.

"Then where do i go?" you asked hoping to hear the words that played in your mind.

"You come to me." He was straightforward wasting no time to let you know who should be the man you go to in time of need.

He leaned closer on the table one arm reaching with his fingertips to cup your chin in his large hands you puckered your lips for only a split second at the touch of him reminding yourself that hes only offering temporary relief in terms of cigarettes, and yet the way he looked at you meant two different things, that slow burning gaze as his eyes took you in little by little, dropping to your lips and back to your eyes he made no moves on you only admiring from afar you wished so much that he would come closer.

"Dont forget it, okay?" his thumb stroked over your bottom lip gently pulling it away until it landed back in place this time there was no way to hide the emotions you felt inside, you didnt care if he saw you biting your lip as the lustful smile took over you, you wanted him to see that.

You nodded slowly keeping your gaze on him he smiled with a little twist to his scowl he pulled his hand away having gotten your confirmation.

The drinking went on for the entire night that day half of the crew fell asleep right there in the pub and those who still had the strenght in their legs made ways back to the ship to crash.

You however laid in bed staring at the celing laughing every now and the bizzarrity of the situation

The vice Capitan never seemed to show any interest in people of his own crew he usually kept it strict to sleep with only women that approached him, the ones that were dying to know how rough a pirate actually is. How they’d treat a woman in need for something new in their life’s. This side you never saw of your dear vice captain.

You sobered up a little in your bed hand caressing your stomach for some comfort as you wondered about it yourself.

A groan fell from your lips at the thought of the way he treated you tonight. He showed none of the hidden distain in his face when he spoke to you. Only care and protection to your safety at the thought of you wandering into the men’s dorms asking for smokes.

“How ridiculous..” you whispered aloud as you shuffled up from the bed legs tangled against each other between your steps you made way to the farthest corner into hall. Shanks’ cabin was the door in the very end so naturally Ben’s would be to the side.

With a few knocks hoping you didn’t disturb anything you peeked open the door to spot the vice captain laying slumped on the side of the bed, legs covered still in his black boots he seemed out of it pretty good.

“Beck?” You whispered coming into the room sitting on the side of the bed besides him, his salt pepper hair fallen a little over his face you sighed as you laid back on his bed with a loud poof.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed smiling to yourself at the peaceful sight before you.

He could feel the shift of weight on his bed, he was well aware that he hadn’t invited someone in so it could have been one of the guys mistaking their bunks for his.

“Out.” He spoke all of a sudden making your heart race as you laid before him, his eyes opened slowly to the sight of your back before his eyes as you sat up.

He smacked away dry feeling in his mouth raising up on the bed just about as you were to get up from his bed.

He was still buzzed from all the drinking so the weight he put in his arm was stronger than you could have ever expected, his hand came quickly lacing over your waist as he pulled you back into the bed a surprised chuckle leaving your drunken mind as you rested your hands over his. The large scar on his forearm leaving a dip in his skin you absently stroked it not even noticing that it was there until he mumbled something, cheek resting on the covers of his bed he was lazily fighting the urge to fall back asleep.

He pulled you in slowly as he crawled his way deeper into the bed.

Black boots on the edge of the bed he flicked them off one by one with a loud thud.

He rested his head over yours the palm of his hand warming the side of your hips you could only take in the intoxicating scent from his cologne.

Deep and peppery.

your hand shyly rested between his chest until he took it to lace it around his Broad waist. He sighed taking a deep breath he was staring to lose the drunkenness inside of him.

“What are you here for?” He mumbled before your head, his voice roaring gently in his chest as he spoke.

“I thought to come for a smoke at first, but now that I think of it I don’t even want one..” you laughed pulling away from him a little.

“Then you came for me.” He was sly and sure of his response making you rethink every word you were about to say.

“..” only silence came from you as you looked him eye to eye waiting for him to open his.

The moment he did you leaned to press your lips to his, unsure wether it was the alcohol talking or the heat of the moment but it felt right to do this.

His brows furrowed for a second as he groaned into the kiss he pulled his palm from under you, thumb resting before your ear his hand on the side of your neck as he pulled your lips closer to him with a satisfied exhale.

It was pleasant to feel his lips over yours, warm and supple though a little dry you made sure to change that as you gently cupped his lips with your own.

Softly exchanging drunken kisses was in neither of your bucket-lists for the night but he was enjoying this all too much.

Benn’s tongue prodded lightly between kisses softly brushing against the split between your own, you gently rolled your hips against his. His other hand came snaking between your waist to your ass, squeezing tightly as he pressed you flush against his hips. The growing warmth of his skin behind loose clothes made you feel the outline of his erection quickly growing in size you caught his lips with your own gently biting down in a small pull, his eyes followed the sight.

“Fiesty aren’t you?” He smiled closing in the distance between you two, his tongue lightly brushing against the backside of your teeth as you opened your mouth a little more for him.

“A little..” you breathlessly admitted, missing his touch the second he pulled away to take off his shirt.

Though the room was dim you could barely notice the small chizzle of his chest, Broad and laced with scars long and sharp you sucked in a breath of air as he leaned over you. His hips resting over the middle of your thigh, the warm indent of his cock brushing gently against it, your hands laced around his neck as he placed a quick peck to your lips.

His fingers slipped under your shirt as he slowly prodded it upwards your body making your back arch once it hit your waist. His hands burned slowly against your flesh, each motion tickling and making the blush on your face rise higher you scooped your hands away from his neck allowing him to take away your shirt.

Bare chested under him he moved to rest his head between your breasts placing supple kisses on each mound he gently cupped each one with his hands. Eyes meeting yours as he kissed over your nipples with a light suckle at the ends he watched as you smirked brushing away the hair aside from his face as he moved lower on your chest placing quick kisses until he met the hem of your pants.

He looked back up at you and the blissful smile on your face.

“You sure?” He asked watching you bite your lip with a small nod.

He shrugged his head to the side a little.

“That won’t do sweetheart, use words..” he was gentle with the way he spoke kissing down the squishy part of your stomach as his nose brushed against softness of it.

“I’m sure, take ‘em off.” You mouthed feeling him clasp his hands behind the hems of your pants he pulled them off softly, watching as pale skin uncovered itself under his movements he made sure to pull off the underwear as-well.

He kissed the inside of your thighs before he moved them off completely leaving you with a quick hitched breath as his feverish touch left you.

He moved down the side of the bed standing up before you he undid his pants sliding them off his legs you drank in the sight before you, the flex of his pecks in the dim light of the room, the muscled abs he usually hid behind loose shirts, god he was attractive..

He climbed over you slowly stopping when he reached your plush cunt placing a deep kiss his lips perked in a small smirk as you bucked you hips against his mouth. He climbed over fully snaking one hand behind your back he welcomed himself in your embrace as he laid sideways pulling one of your legs around his hips he let the other hug him under his shared weight.

Beckmann licked his fingers quickly as he placed a smooth kiss over your lips his hand under your thigh he pumped his cock slowly lubing it up with his saliva.

“Tell me if it’s too much..” he whispered against your ear as he lined himself up against you, he took note of the warm wetness all around your entrance, his cock shlicking between your folds he guided the tip inside allowing you to get adjusted to his size.

With a delicious moan your head fell back a little in his embrace, he moved to kiss your neck with slow burning kisses, tongue tracing gentle licks against your throat you could feel the warm stretch that his cock made inside of you.

Your moved back in a comfortable position feeling him grope on your chest as he sucked on your nipple, clean shaven face tickling the skin with little bumps of prodding hair you giggled with soft amusement of how gentle he was with you.

You squeezed his waist with your legs pushing him deeper inside you, he groaned against your chest feeling the pooling warmth overwhelm him.

He began thrusting gently enjoying as slow moans fell from your lips with all the love and desire in the world, he felt so good, stretching the insides of your walls with his cock, you could feel each thrust, the vein on his cock as he pulled back and forth, his tip stroking and stretching against you as he collided his hips with yours.

Soft moans filled the room that smelt like drunken bliss, the sheets swishing under your constant movement as he seethed inside of you.

“Mhmmm~” you moaned deeply as his hands cupped your ass, squeezing and massing the side of your thigh the more he kept buckling.

His pace fastened every now and then as you mewled out for him the sound of his cock dragging with your juices all of over his cock numbed together with the dissipating feeling of the alcohol that he couldn’t even feel anymore, he was so lost in the moment of pleasure, lost in the way you clenched around him, hungry for the way you moaned his name.

His hand moved to the small of your back as he pulled you flush against his chest picking up his pace as lewd moans fell from your mouth.

“ C’mere..” he grunted pulling your lips against his he thrusted faster holding you closely as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Your moans spilled inside his mouth, the pleasure filled your mind faster than you could even begin to imagine, the sides of your eyes began to feel blurry as his pelvic bone massaged your clit.

Your eyes rolled back, mouth drooping open in pleasure as he continued push deeper inside of you chasing his own high.

“Fuckk, Beck..” you whimpered feeling the hot flutter take over inside of you, hot pants of his breath tickling the skin over your chest as low groans fell from his mouth he muttered low praises feeling the waves of your climax he slowed down with deep huffs of breath, pumping himself slowly into you as he enjoyed the waft of his own climax washing over him. Warm spurts of cum filled the insides off your walls trickling down the sides of his shaft as he slowly stroked inside of you riding out your highs. He pressed his hand on the end of your back pushing you against him lovingly as he filled you up with him cum, peppering slow kisses across your collarbones as you arched your head to allow him better access to you.

“Fuck, you’re good..” you chuckled moving to cup his face to plant a sweet kiss which he reciprocated with slight desperation, trying to enjoy more and more of you before the night ended.

He took pride in having you, knowing that he’s the only one on the ship to have you to himself he wouldn’t allow a soul to make eyes at you after this.

He pulled out watching keenly as globs of cum slipped out of your cunt and onto his sheets he laid you on your back and slipped between your thighs to clean off the mess he had made. Your hips buckled each time he slurped between hooded eyes, a deep hunger sitting within them as he watched over you, the way your legs shivered under his touch, the pretty smile on your face as you looked at him between your thighs playing with your nipples playfully he pulled back with a last squelching kiss to your heat he laid beside you ushering you in his embrace as he pulled a cover over you. Hand resting over his chest tracing small circles you looked up at him.

His hand warmly stroking the side of your shoulder as you both grazed in the soft sex afterglow. His greyish blue eyes almost seemed dark in the light of the room.

“What’s on your mind?” He reached over the side of the bed to grab a quick smoke never leaving you from his embrace.

You were silent for a second trying to find the words to lay down the reason behind those mindful eyes.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but they way you acted tonight was different.” You whispered silently watching the smile on his face as he puffed a smoke from his lips. He moved to kiss the top of your head that dumb look in your eyes was his poison honestly.

He took a long breath, how does he even begin this?

He hummed leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, the linger of tobacco seeped into your mouth slowly.

“I do fancy you if that’s what you wanted to know. We did kind of skip a few steps by doing this though.” He looked down onto the sheets causing an embarrassed blush to spread across your face.

He took your hand in his bringing it to his lips he spoke.

“What do you say we take a little day off from the guys? Just you and me, around the town..” he smiled a little a bit expectant for your answer.

You smiled resting back onto his chest with a relieved sigh. “Sounds nice..” you played with his hand comparing it to the size of your own the soft strokes of his thumb softening the mood between you even more.

#onepiece #one piece fanfiction #onepiece x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #one piece beckman #one piece benn beckman #ben beckman one piece #ben beckman #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #Ben beckman x reader #ben beckman smut #i love him sm

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sexydoffyman · 8 months

Note

oh hi! how you doin'?

i was thinking about benn Beckman angst , hurt/comfort scenario ? fem!reader with some smut maybe? thank you 😞!

ARGUMENT

navigation

genre: angst->fluff

word count: 374

A/N: Gocha! Sorry, I really didn't know how to mix it in with the smut.🐑

You and Beckman had gotten into an argument. He had gotten a little bit rough, and you ended up bruised. You told him the following day. To your surprise, he had only shrugged it off. Like it was nothing.

He probably couldn't care less, but you did. You didn't want him to get that rough with you. His argument was that you didn't tell him anything. "Well, I was scared." You tried to explain.

"Oh, so now you're playing the victim." He said mockingly. "So you think that you were the victim?!" You raised your voice at him. You were a little disappointed that this mature man was acting like a child.

You tried to pay no mind to it, hoping he would calm down and you two could discuss it like adults. Unfortunately, your husband decided to bury you and himself deep into the argument.

It got to the point that both of you started yelling. Yelling would be acceptable as long as that was the only thing that happened. You were both so frustrated with the situation, but the only thing you were able to do was keep yelling.

You told him another argument, and he got pissed. He walked towards you speedily. That, to his surprise, startled you. You took a few steps back and fell on the ground. He stopped in his tracks, leaving both of you staring at each other.

An awkward silence filled the room. You were glancing at him with glassy eyes. That made his heart sink in his chest. Never in his life did he want to see his lover cry. Especially if it was his fault.

He gathered all the courage left in his body and decided to break the awkward silence. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

A quiet "yeah" left your mouth. He approached you with a softer expression on his face. He crouched next to you and hugged you. You returned the hug.

He picked you up and carried you to your shared bedroom. He put you on the bed, lying next to you. You cuddled up into his chest. He started whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he stroked your back.

Next time, give him a few bruises as revenge.

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i-am-vita · 3 months

Text

Beckman Bodice Ripper pt. 2

According to the poll I'm probably going to end doing two of these. That's why I wanted it to be one day but I still don't know how to use Tumblr.

Let it be said that I barely know what I'm doing here.

Thank's for voting, people!!! @fanaticsnail got her wish (it was the most voting yesterday when I started sketching and the Snail has privileges in this blog).

Tags: @sordidmusings, @gingernut1314, @cinnbar-bun, @feral-artistry, @writingmysanity, @sexc-snail, @tookawaiitoolive, @nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos

#Benn Beckman looks like a Fabio #The One Piece Bodice Ripper Club #there needs to be more beckmann fics #benn beckmann mood board #benn beckmann one piece #benn beckman #bodice ripper #x reader #beckman x reader #Vita Art

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rayraelleaizawa · 2 months

Text

You find out they have very sensitive nipples

TW: mild sexual content, Minors DNI

Characters: Shanks, Benn Beckman, Dracule Mihawk

Shanks

this guy walks around all day with his bare chest out, so getting to his nipples is an easy thing

you two were laying in his bed in the captain quarters, both of you panting from the wild love making you just did. You absently let your fingers trail over his chest while you two enjoyed the silence. His hand strocked over your side, keeping you close, as both of you basked in the afterglow. You then circled one of his nipples, and holy-

this man moaned

suddenly, unexpectedly, loud and deep

you looked at him in shock at the sudden noise, and he looked at you in a shocked and suprised way too

"W-what did you just do-"

He'd ask with a blush and tries to act like nothing happend, but you already noticed what was going on and are now smiling devilishly up to him

you pinch his nipple this time, and his whole body arches as he moans and yelps surprised at the same time

"That's it"

He says and grabs you and rolls you over that you're laying under him

"If you want to tease me that bad, you sure can have that"

Shanks is a man of his word, and he shows you that with another one, or two, or three rounds through the whole night

Benn Beckmann

You were sitting on Benns lap as he read the newspapers on deck

You and him both enjoyed the others presence, finding calmness and comfort with each other. And that is exactly what Benn needs after watching over his Captain and the other crewmembers everyday while also doing a bunch of tasks

He loves sitting with you and just relaxing. He's the king of quality time

You hum quietly to a tune in your mind and trace invisible patterns over his shirt, as you graze a nipple of his

His muscles tense at once and he makes a quiet and suprised groan

Tho he acts like nothing happened and just continues to stare at the newspaper

You on the other hand, trace over his nipple again, and again, and again, and you feel his body tensing more and more, and after some time he cant hold back his groan anymore and you feel goosebumps rising up your arms and back at the arousing sound he makes

You look at him stunned, you never thought he'd be that sensitive in that area, while he folded the newspaper together and laid it on the table. You just wanted to say something as he scooped you up and started walking with you in his hands under deck

"What, you think you can tease me like that with nothing incoming? I'll show you just how senstive your own body can be"

he grins as he says that, and just like his captain, he's a man of his word and makes sure to go over every inch of your body and find every sensitive spot you have and torture you with it

Dracule Mihawk

He is a stoic man

He won't tell you about his sensitive spots, he'll just make sure to please you in every way possible, but doesnt really care about himself, if he finishes with you he is more than happy

But just like Shanks, this man walks around with his bare chest and nipples on display for everyone to see

so one time, you just wondered if he also has sensitive areas. He always makes sure to stimulate you in every way, but you never saw anything that stimulated him except of the part between his legs

So, you were thinking if his nipples might be just as sensitive as yours

You walk up to him, knowing that a direct approach is best with him

He read the newspaper and sipped some of his wine as you came into the dining hall to him. You walked up to him and asked "Are you sensitive there?" and just softly pinched his nipple

You were shocked from his reaction to say the least

You figured that he might be senstive there like you are, but his reaction was way more intense than yours ever been

He gasps suprised and his back arches of the chair, his head falling back as a small moan escaped him at the end

You didnt know if you saw right just now, the Mihawk who only lets his emotions show in bed, and even then he seems to hold them back still, lost controll about his body so easily

You wanted to do it again, but he quickly grabbed your hand before you could reach his nipple again. He looked at you with a small blush

"Yes. I am sensitive there."

He answered you, and you already knew that you would use that knowledge against him the next time you two would get intimate

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fanaticsnail · 3 months

Text

When You Had The Chance

Masterlist Here.

Word Count: 3,830

Plot: Serving as first mate to the Buggy-Pirates, it was your job to keep your captain grounded and uplifted. When tempers flared, he decided to confront his childhood rival once and for all - pulling out all the stops to finally lay their feud to rest. Crew against crew, Captain against Captain, First-Mate against First-Mate - will you win, or lie at the mercy of the man you once loved. The man you will always love.

Themes: Angst, pining, war, fighting, guns, blades, blood, unrequitted love, age-gap (19-37, 23-41, 32-50: Maths made me work today) f!reader, pet-name used, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers.

Song Suggestions: Let Me Down Slowly, She Used to be Mine

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

Destruction, chaos, blood and bones litter the splintered hull of the ship. The air was tinted with the scent of cinders, flint and ignited powders. Another cannon struck the top-mast, this time severing the link and reducing it to shredded planks. Everything was happening both too fast and too slow. Buggy was flying through the air, untameable as the sea and as chaotic as the storm rocking the ship against the thrashing waves.

A clap of lightning cut the sky, the sound of rumbled beaten-drum thunder reverberated and shook against your rapidly reducing vessel. You shook your nerves away from your hands and leapt into the air, holding your breath as you propelled yourself onto the enemy vessel.

You had no idea that a night of drinking and reminiscing with your captain and crew would lead you here. It started with ale, pale to start and ending with stout. Then you switched to ports and honey-mead to cleanse the palate and continue the merriment. Music, lividity, gaiety was where you started - singing heartily to the shanties of old.

And then they brought out the ouzo.

Ouzo, your one weakness, had memories spiraling and your heart swelling in love-stricken grief. It started with each of you recounting your places at the time of Gol D Rogers execution. Buggy could barely choke back his tears, almost coherent with words he left unspoken as he witnessed his heart stop as a fifteen year old. You confessed you were in a place you knew you shouldn't, a child of barely eight witnessing the death of someone you had adored from afar as king of your kind.

From listening to the recounts of the crew, anger began to fester below the surface. Tales of how Captain Shanks ruined the life of your beloved clown had your heart beating heavier - swelling with the thinning blood infused with a high percentage of alcohol. You had only then begun to uproot the prior stifled feelings regarding the redheaded captain’s first mate.

You thought you repressed them enough, compartmentalized enough. But the bile began to form behind your lips as your heart jumped into your throat as the memories found themselves within the forefront of your eyes.

He had every right to turn you down. You respect him more for it now than you did back then, that was for certain. You were barely nineteen, making a name for yourself as one of the most nimble-footed, light fingered thieves in the east blue. “Get in, get on with it, get it done, and get out,” was your motto; and a motto you managed to execute with the highest amount of competency and skill.

Stealing from a red-haired captain? An easy task you were commissioned to do. Having your heart stolen from your chest, lungs compressed of all its oxygen as your eyes met with the steel gaze of the first mate? Not something you had ever accounted for. But you fell first, and you fell hard.

You disregarded your mission, bullied the captain immediately to take you under his wing aboard the red-force and served with them for little over four years. In those four years, your heart was longing, craving affection from the first mate. Yassop gave you hell for it. Lucky Roux attempted to join in on the teasing - only for you to teach them both a lesson by misplacing and claiming objects very near and dear to them.

Each time you set to dock at port, you witnessed the love of your life take another to his bed. You drew attention yourself, and easily took a fling here and there. But in doing so, you were always longing to be the one chosen good enough - special enough - to warm the sheets beside Benn Beckman. To be the face he’d lie next to in the night, and the smile he awoke to in the morning.

At twenty three, you confessed. A night not unlike the one here amongst the red-hair pirates had you singing, swaying and dancing to the fingerpicking of a guitar. Ouzo drove your words, an apprehensive and innocent smile dancing on your lips as the warm alcohol flushed your cheeks. You laid it all out for him; from the moment your eyes first met, to the way you altered your entire life for the opportunity to be by his side - you risked it all at the beachfront fireside with the crack of warm flames dancing in your eyes.

As you leant in to place a soft kiss against his lips: he turned away from you with his eyes tightly shut. His hand clapped over your shoulder, as he kept you an arms length away and reopened his eyes.

“Darlin’, I’m flattered,” His voice drawled, brows furrowed in a deep frown as he held his eyes away from yours, “But I’m a little old for someone like you.”

Someone like you.

That phrase had all thoughts sour, all emotions and tempers running high as you hastily sprung to your feet and marched back towards the Red Force. Knowing now what you knew then, he had every right to turn you down as you confessed to him. You were young, a fool only in love; never unsound in mind.

Was that how all of the crew thought of you? An infatuated, love-sick, and thieving child following blindly the orders of your captain, under the watchful eyes of a first mate you’d come to love? You gave up everything to be by his side; your career long since forgotten as you worked yourself to the bone for the chance to be on the receiving end of a small smile from him.

You hastily packed your belongings, leaving no trace nor whisper you had ever served among this crew, and crept back into the shadows where you once more found yourself again. Thriving in the reignition of your skillset, you had managed to acquire a fair amount of wealth for yourself. Feeling in a celebratory mood after a successful solo heist, your eyes met with the hunched over figure of a sad clown.

Feeling content and pleased with yourself, you decided to buy him a drink. And then another.

And then you decided to join him for one.

When you met Buggy, you knew this was the crew you were always meant to serve with. Your skills as a thief had you perform in his circus as his prized assistant. His coy volunteer within the stands, his enchanting assistant showcasing his grandeur, his leading lady in the ring - his loyal First-Mate as he made a name for himself through fame and fortune. Never once did you feel the desire to romance the clown, keeping the need to express such feelings for another hidden well below the surface, but you loved him as one ever could love an older sibling who acted like the younger.

After slamming down your upturned, empty shot glass for the umpteenth time; you lulled your head atop his shoulder and nonchalantly raised your voice in question.

“What if we just,” your speech slurred as you looked over the back of your nails, “killed him?”

“Killed who, Doll? Who we killing?” Your captain asked, looking over your head to nod in appreciation of your painted fingernails.

“Shanks. The Red-Hair pirates. All of them.”

Buggy leant down into your ear, holding his glazed over eyes and a rumbled growl of anxiety laden excitement purred against your skin.

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

And this is where your booze-filled suggestion had you. Rifles drawn, cutlasses brandished and fists meeting flesh as you tore each other into ribbons of littered and battered skin. Teeth gnashing, throats growling and brows furrowing; the tension was being cut with layers of destruction. Two crews you had served with, the former being on the winning side of the fight as the latter began to perish. Your current crew were being annihilated, only very few remaining now standing as the Big Top was slowly sinking beneath the icy-cold water.

As another cannonball was fired from the end of an iron circlet, you fell to a crouched position and barely managed to cover your ears to stifle the ringing within. As you withdrew your ears and turned, you opened your eyes to a sight you never thought you would see again.

Facing down the barrel of a rifle, your eyes first met with the cold circlet of doom pointing at your head. You smelt the warm familiarity of tobacco first, your heart pounding harder than it ever did within the battle prior.

Glancing up past the barrel, you met with the cold and calculated stare of the first-mate of the red hair pirates. His eyes were wide and wild, his lips curled back into a grimace with the grinding of teeth, before the cruel twist of fate had his eyes stagger under recognition.

The warm hot flush of angry tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes as they continued to bear into his - his own raw emotion being depicted on his own face.

Beckman’s heart stopped, his breath hitched and cigarette fell from his parted lips as his jaw fell slack. Never once had you reached out. Not after all this time did he know you were even alive, let alone serving amongst the rival crew of the one you had come to know prior. He never should’ve let you leave - not like that. Not knowing how he truly felt for you and choosing to restrain himself from your alcohol-induced confession.

He loved you. He loved you so desperately, he could not see his life complete without you. And when you severed from the crew and left no trace, Beckman became a shell of a man he once was. Faking smiles, forcing laughter, joining himself with pleasurable company no longer on his agenda as all he could picture was your face. Your eyes: filled with such sorrow at his rejection, that was all he came to see behind his closed eyes as he lay to sleep.

"You gonna shoot me, Becks? Is that what it all comes down to?" Your taunt broke him away from his looping thoughts, his battletorn face alert to the woman he had come to long for. Your sinister and malicious smile was never something he ever foresaw being on the receiving end of, and it startled him.

"I don't want to, Darlin'. But if it'll stop you from fightin’ us and leaving with the clown again, I'll see it done,” he responded, clicking back the ignition on his beloved pistol.

The roars of battle fleeing from the lips of your Captain, his malicious cackles of rage-filled laughter hurtling towards Red Haired Shanks. Echoes of taunts and insults hurled into the air regarding the betrayal of one captain against another, all of which were met by an uproar of apologies from your former captain as he blocked every assault thrown his way.

Although you were a faithful first-mate, knowing it was your role to serve and protect your captain, you were struck down by your own swollen emotions within your heart. No longer filled with the taste and hindrance of alcohol, your once hidden thoughts and emotions began to swell of their own accord in front of the silver-haired first-mate.

You couldn't tear your eyes from Beckman’s, unable to break the spell of longing you felt for him. After all these years, he was still the man your heart cried for in the lonely hours of the night, as you lay in crew quarters aboard the enemy’s ship. The first man you ever loved. The man you would always love. The man who still held the pointed tip of a gun at your head as you scowled into his face, masking the pain his absence had drawn to you.

His eyes, his hair, his soul: all once held secret and safe with your adoration for him protected and refused to be spoken. Those words turned to broken mirrors, refracting light away from your eyes as they held firm against his own.

"You going to cut me down just like that? I thought you were a man far more dignified than all that," you huffed with a humorless laugh. His jaw clenched tightly shut, his eyes narrowing at you as you snarled at him beneath the barrel of his gun.

"And I never thought I'd see you again, let alone blindly serving the enemy,” He growled, dragging his eyes over your war torn clothes and battleshaken face for any semblance of injury.

Another cry from the clown in rage had your ears pricking at the sound, but eyes fixed on the expressions the man in front of you were holding. You saw the masking emotions slip, his eyes begin to glaze as your own mask dropped completely.

After all this time, he was still the man you loved. You loved him so desperately, so deeply, that you almost forgot the reason you were here in the first place.

He dropped his gun from your head and fell to his knees in front of you, reaching down his left hand to seek out your chin and cradle it beneath his thumb and index finger. You keep your eyes fixed on his as you allow the luxury of a hot tear to roll down your cheek, gritting your teeth in wordlessly reprimanding yourself for such an action.

“Benn,” the whisper of his name from your mouth had his body surge towards you, taking your lips beneath his in a long, bruising kiss.

His left hand removed itself from your chin to take your cheek into it, his right hand circling your waist as he cradled you against himself. You whimpered against his lips, feeling everything you had once felt for him simmer and boil to the surface.

You clenched your eyes tightly shut, brows furrowing as he reflected everything you had tangibly felt in yearning for him for all of these years. You felt the stubble of his chin scrape against yours, the taste of his final cigarette on his tongue as he deepened the oscillation. He growled as you finally gave in, hooking your right arm over his shoulder and placing your left hand atop his right cheek. You felt the etchings of his healed over scar dancing beneath your fingertips, an angry whisper of a tear leaking down to press against your thumb.

"Please don't leave with him. I couldn't bear the thought. Stop all of this,” he whispered against your lips, “Please stay,” he uttered, breaking the kiss to brace you against his body, “Stay with me on the Red Force. Serve Shanks once more. Please . I'll do anything-."

At that, you circled your chin around, breaking the embrace while rotating your hips away from him. You danced your body around his, placing a firm kick to the side of his head; successfully knocking the first-mate of the Red-Hair pirates to the ground and rising to your feet in one swift movement.

Benn was on his side, staring up at you with a mixture of shock, fury and pride.

"Good bye, Benn. You should've shot me when you had the chance."

At that, you ran fast as your feet could carry you towards your blue-haired captain. You quickly sought him out as he lay punch after punch against the face and torso of red-haired Shanks, who looked to just be sitting there and taking them. He easily could defend himself and thwart the rage of the clown by pushing him backwards into the sea water, but he just stood and took everything Buggy was throwing at him.

Buggy, your beautiful captain, was crying. Hot and angry tears were pouring without any semblance of stopping, as fatigue from the fight slowed down his rage-filled hits. His white gloves were stained red with the blood of the man who betrayed him, a man who appeared to be whispering in a voice so low only Buggy could hear it.

Your sprint drew you close, just off to the side as the punches slowed to a lull; Buggy’s shoulders shaking as he continued to sob.

“It’s okay, Buggy,” Shanks whispered, allowing another hit to land against his chest, “It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Buggy’s head hung low, his knuckles pressed firmly against Shanks’ torso as he continued to cry into the air.

Shanks hooked an arm over his shoulders, pressing Buggy’s sweat-smeared forehead against his own, as he embraced him with his battered remaining arm. Shanks’ eyes were closed and a whisper of a boyish smile was stuck to his face as Buggy’s sobs began to shake violently under his arm.

“I’m sorry, Buggy. I’m so, so sorry,” Shanks whispered, nuzzling his head against Buggy’s as he drew his head into his chest. Buggy’s eyes continued to remain wide and unblinking as he stiffened in the embrace.

You felt the presence of both the Red-Hair and the Buggy-Pirates at your side; battered, bruised and broken as they watched their captains embrace against one another.

“You can keep hitting me if you want,” Shanks smiled, placing his chin atop the blue hair of the captain you serve, “But know I’ll never hate you. I’d rather die.”

You felt an overwhelming sense of both panic and relief as Buggy circled his arms around Shanks’ waist and buried his head into his chest. Sobs from the clown and laughter from the redhead began to echo against the deck of the ship, confusing all those surrounding.

“Lay down your arms, boys,” Beckman’s voice rumbled from your side, prompting you to freeze in place. To your surprise, the Red-Hair pirates sheathed their swords and disarmed their pistols. Silence aside from the whimpers from your captain in the arms of your former were the only sounds gracing your ears, until they met with the flick of a lighter and a deep inhale of a cigarette.

You looked over to the silver-haired man beside you, watching as he took the back of his hand and wiped the small trickle of blood from your prior kick from his lips.

“And bring out some Ouzo, would you, Roux?” Beckman’s eyes upturned. You watched as that smile you so desperately craved began to draw up onto the lips of the man you loved, causing your heart to swell.

“Me and this one got a lot to talk about,” he stooped down, resting his forehead against your own as his charming smile began to grow, “Don’t we, Darlin’?”

The battle died down, your current and former captains sitting together in the middle of a table of the tavern as the Red-Force tethered and chaperoned the Big-Top into port. You were sitting at the bar, refusing to acknowledge any member of your former crew, nor your current. Cabaji and Yasopp were heavily engaged in a dart-throwing competition at the far end of the tavern; Roux and Mohji were talking about food in heavy detail, with Richie curled up at their feet.

And Beckman was sitting atop the barstool beside you, patiently watching and waiting for you to engage him in conversation. You continued to sit in silence, sipping at the small glass of ouzo first before downing the liquid and signaling for another.

“Someone like you,” you mocked him, tutting out a venomous reprimand before throwing back another shot of the burning, liquorice-flavored liquid as soon as it was placed in front of you, “Darlin’ this, Darlin’ that.”

“Is that what this was about?” Beckman chuckled, leaning his elbow on the bar as he took his cheek beneath his fist, “After all this time, you think-.”

“-You know what, Benn? Fuck you,” you spat, turning from him and signalling for the bartender to leave the remainder of the bottle, “Fuck you and your stupid ‘someone like you’, Benn. You should be so lucky, you arrogant prick-.”

Your words were stifled by the firm grip pulling at the back of your hair, immediately molding his lips over your own in a long, passionate kiss. He circled his chin, parted his lips and claimed more of your heart with each brush-stroke of the portrait he painted against your mouth. He bullied you, bruised you with his intensity; cradling you against his body with each motion he made with his lips.

Wolf-whistles and cat-calls were thrust into the air by the two pirate crews once sworn in hatred, now allies. Benn smiled against your lips, continuing to press more of himself into you before he broke away from claiming you against his mouth.

“Someone like you,” Beckman whispered, his breath tickling your lips with the former memory, “Someone as young as you. Someone as stunning as you. Someone that could have any man they wanted fall on their knees and beg for you to send a single look their way.” Your breath hitched, eyes wide at his confession.

“Is that what you’re doing, Benn?” your eyes dropped to his lips, processing every word relayed onto you, “Begging?”

“Pleading,” he confessed further before he claimed another kiss from your lips that ended as briefly as it began. You allowed the small break of a smile chip and whittle away against your prior stoic and aggressive demeanor.

“Why didn’t you say so when you had the chance?” you asked him, shaking your head at him and drawing up your palm to cradle his cheek within its warmth. He closed his eyes, leaning into the small gesture and kissed your palm.

“I wanted you to have the chance to do better, Darlin’,” he uttered, placing his hand atop yours and withdrawing it from his face, “Better than me.” You sought out his meaning behind his gray orbs and clicked your tongue at him.

“Why would I ever have wanted anyone else?” you whispered, shaking your head at him. He chuckled, turning back and poured two glasses of the burning, translucent liquid into the shot glasses.

“A guy like me doesn’t get someone like you,” he sighed, his smile still present as he downed his ouzo, “Someone like you goes for someone like Shanks.” He poured himself another and danced his glass rim against yours remaining unclaimed atop the bar. You took the hint and raised your glass within your hand, rolling your eyes at his comment.

“Someone like me changed their life to follow someone like you,” you quipped in return, downing the liquid and placing your glass back atop the bar, prompting Benn to do the same. “I gave up everything I was for you, Benn. I wanted you,” you took the neck of the bottle and began pouring the liquid into both of the glasses, “And I still do.”

“After all that fighting?” he asked, nudging you with his shoulder, “You still want me, Darlin’?” You sighed, a smile dancing on your lips as the crew around continued their merriment and conversations.

“Of course I do.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #buggy #shanks #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman op #benn x reader #beckman x reader

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bennwazzhere · 6 months

Text

Shanks and Beckman headcannons cuz I suck and won't stfu about them

WARNING!!!! There will be nsfw stuff soooo 👀

Shanks

Shanks 100% has a breeding kink like come on😭

Also to add to that (this may be gross to many people) maybe a piss fetish 👀👀 *oh no😭*

Whenever I talk to my best friend abt him I always tell her that his cock is a VERY UNREALISTIC size (aka 12 flaccid 24 hard like come on now crispyy)

but to be realistic, I'll have to say ehhhh 6 to 8???? Maybe????? 😭

Ok WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THE HAIR aka the ✨ᏢႮᏴᎬՏ✨. it makes a triangle up to his lowest ab/belly button. (I'll reblog this and show y'all cuz I'll draw it😭)

IT'S RED. It's slightly darker than his head hair tho.

Cut or Uncut ? Cut. 1000% like, I've seen art of the opposite but idgaf😭 he's cut, and that's final.

Beckman

I feel like Beckman would have the same kink and fetish as Shanks would (don't know why but he just does😭) but he would be much more gentle than his Captain

Again I made him have an unrealistic sized cock cuz I am stupid or sum shit but y'know(8 flaccid 16 hard GOD I'M RETARDED 😭)

but again, realism, slightly bigger than Shanks' 7-9 Ig idfk neither of them are probably realistic anyways 😭

✨P͜͡U͜͡B͜͡E͜͡ T͜͡I͜͡M͜͡E͜͡!͜͡!͜͡ ✨(gross😭) wild and grey same thing when he was younger, just it was black

His ass does NOT keep up with that shit😭

Oh god.... The last headcannon.... cut or uncut. Uncut. YOU CAN'T DISAGREE LOOK AT HIM LIKE, WHAT.

that would be so hot to see (for both of them tbh) hell, I've drawn so many pictures of this headcannon that it's not even funny.

(btw DM me if u want to see my favorite one of Benn😏 and don't mind my goofy ass art style plz I'm begging you😭)

Likes and reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated!!!!!

#goofy shit #one piece #shanks one piece #shanks #one piece shanks #beckman x reader #daddy shanks #shanks x reader #papa beckman #benn beckman headcanons #shanks headcanons #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #akagami no shanks #crispyy writes

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mangekyuou · 1 year

Note

Hi there~

I just finished reading your rules and you're a UNI STUDENT? Lmao me too, I'm majoring in English literature 🙃 yeah i know it's an old-man choice 😭 but at least I enjoy it~

So can i request a NSFW alphabet for my boy Benn?

I don't see a lot of content for him and he's sooo sooooo handsomeee and attractive.

I hope you have a nice day~

⟡ ֺ 𓂂 nsfw alphabet , benn beckman.

✸ cw(s)! . . . nsfw. gn!reader. me being a beckman stan. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸ notes! . . . hi !! that's so cool you're majoring in english literature !! i was always interested in literature, but i could just never sit down and read or try to analyze anything. it was never my strong suit lol. so kudos to you !! thank you for requesting !! <33

!! i would also like to say that i don't really do nsfw alphabets, but i have made an exception for this one and the other one in my drafts bcuz i didn't state it earlier. PLUS i'm a beckman and shanks stan lmaooo

A — AFTERCARE. [ what they’re like after sex. ]

aftercare is truly his favorite part. he takes his time carefully getting you all cleaned up and comfortable. benn is definitely a cuddlebug :>. he loves cuddling with you after sex. there's nothing better than laying down next to you, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest, kissing your head, and falling into the world of dreams.

B — BODY PART. [ their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s. ]

he hasn't thought much about himself. he doesn't even really have an answer at first. but he thinks his arms are nice. all the more strength to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

benn loves ALL of you. don't ask him to pick a favorite part of you. he refuses to give you one answer, no matter how much you beg him. unless you start to pout, his ultimate weakness. he loves your thighs. he's a thigh and ass guy. nine times out of ten, you know he's in the mood just by how long he's touching your thighs

C — CUM. [ anything to do with cum. ]

he loves filling you to the brim with his cum, watching it slowly leak out of you only to use his thick fingers or his dick to stuff it back inside. all with a "be a good baby and hold it for me, yeah?"

D — DIRTY SECRET. [ self-explanatory. ]

nothing runs through his mind like you in a maid outfit since you wore one as punishment for losing a card game. the red-haired pirates are so damn cruel. the image has never left his head, and along with it came his dirty thoughts

the thought of you bending over to better reach a spot to dust, the short skirt of your tight uniform riding up to show off your ass. the thought of your purposely spilling something on him to get him out of his clothes. the thought of you on your knees in front of him, eagerly awaiting his next command, asking him how you may be of assistance. fuck he needs you in a maid outfit so bad

E — EXPERIENCE. [ how experience are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

benn has been around the block many of times. he has plenty of experience. i wouldn't call him a hoe...but he's had quite a few lovers in the past. mostly one night stands. he knows what he's doing and how to pleasure you

F — FAVORITE POSITION. [ self-explanatory. ]

he's a pretty classic man. he loves the cowgirl(boy) position. there's nothing that makes him cum harder than you riding him to your heart's content. oh and please do wear a cowboy hat, treat him like cattle, call him a few names, he's putty in your hands. when he comes, put your hat over his pretty face

G — GOOFY. [ are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? ]

benn is very talkative in the bedroom. he's always talking, whether it's praising you or his favorite teasing you. hell, there are even some moments where he's so unserious. telling you about some stupid shit that happened on the red force that day, while kissing down your chest. or when he's settled deep inside of you, not moving, and will stop to have a full-on conversation. like what are you doing ??

H — HAIR. [ how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? ]

it's wild and grey. his pubes are a little wavy. he doesn't particularly care much about shaving. now if you ask him to trim up a little, he will definitely do so and will make it a habit

I — INTIMACY. [ how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect? ]

benn is a very romantic man. there is not a single time when he doesn't make you seem like the luckiest person in the world. he puts his ALL into loving and cherishing you. he takes his time with you. worshipping your body from head to toe, not missing an inch. bringing you to your high again and again, singing praises to you, how well you're doing, how much he loves you

J — JACK OFF. [ masturbation headcanon. ]

benn doesn't jack off as much as he did when he was younger. the times when he is in the mood, you are usually not too far and more than happy to help. however for the few times, you aren't around, he's sitting slouched in a chair in your shared room, his hair all over his face, he was anything but his usual calm and collected self. shallow breaths and low whispers of your name leave his lips, as he desperately tries to reach his high, imagining his hand as yours

K — KINK. [ one or more of their kinks. ]

he definitely has a praise kink. even before the two of you got together, you likely picked up on his praise kink. he loves the effect it has on you. role play, he's a freaky old man. as i said earlier, he loves the thought of you in a maid outfit, this definitely extends to other things. sexy secretary, sexy nurse, you name it. HE'S WAY INTO HIS ROLE. especially if you're taking a dominant role ?? WHEW

L — LOCATION. [ favorite places to do it. ]

he's not all that into public sex. does not want anyone else to see you, other than that one time. he prefers to keep your sexy times in the bedroom. nothing beats your bed

M — MOTIVATION. [ what turns them on, gets them going? ]

it doesn't take much to get him going. you could just wrap your arms around his waist from behind, and kiss up his shoulder, and he's all yours for the evening. or when you smack his ass and run down the hall. he swears he hates it, but who is he kidding? when he does catch up to you, you're in for it

N — NO. [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs. ]

anything that could possibly hurt you. nope. never. nada. zilch. he can't do it. he couldn't do humiliation either. anything that is not making you feel amazing and beautiful, he's not doing

O — ORAL. [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc. ]

definitely a giver and is the fucking best at it. he prides himself on his ability to make you cum multiple times with his mouth alone. he could spend hours between your legs if you'd let him. hooking his strong arms around your legs, you're not going anywhere until he's had his fill. but you'll be a good baby and take it, won't you?

running your hands through his grey locks only encourages him further. your moans and breaths are a melody he'd never get tired of hearing

he does love seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. he loves when you take your time, licking up a stride up his shaft, the tip of your tongue circling the blushing red head of his tip, before slowly taking him into your mouth. eye contact the entire time !! he loves that shit

P — PACE. [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

benn is definitely more on the slow and sensual side. he wants you to feel him, every inch of him enter you as he fills you to the brim every time he thrusts into you. and he wants to feel all of you, as he closes his eyes and stuffs his face into your shoulder, alternating between leaving open-mouth kisses and love bites

Q — QUICKIE. [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

he's not a quickie guy. maybe when he was younger but quickies don't satisfy him anymore. it doesn't give him the chance to fuck you properly

R — RISK. [ are they game to experiment, do they take the risks, etc. ]

he'll experiment for you. he'll willing to try some things at least once if you'd like to try them. however, it's not likely to suggest something. he knows what he likes and what he doesn't, he's not sure that's really going to change at this point

S — STAMINA. [ how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? ]

benn can go for a few rounds, which are not usually his plan. he usually plans for one long round. but the cuddle session after the first round a lot of the time turns into another around. he's not complaining though. give him a little smoke break and he's back at it

T — TOY. [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

he doesn't have a problem with toys, he just doesn't really use them. he prefers using his own equipment if you catch my drift. but he definitely doesn't mind using them on you if you asked

U — UNFAIR. [ how much they like to tease? ]

now he doesn't see it as teasing. but it's definitely teasing. his teasing is very playful. the way he just walks up to you at the poker table and whispers what he's going to do to you tonight if you win...and he expects you to sit there and be calm. you better win.

or when you sit in his lap and his large calloused hands caress your thighs, inching closer and closer to your core. he notices the way you take in a sharp breath, only to stop touching you altogether. he knows exactly what he's doing and what effect he has on you

V — VOLUME. [ how loud they are, what sounds they make. ]

benn is not quiet by any means. he's very talkative in the bedroom. always teasing you or giving you praise. he is an occasional groaner. groaning your name and swears into your ear

W — WILD CARD. [ random headcanon. ]

shanks has definitely watched you and benn fuck before. it was one time and it'll never happen again. now the captain of the red haired pirates did nothing wrong, at first. the next day, roo had asked shanks where he disappeared off to and he made a joke saying "watching the taming of a stubborn bull", earning a laugh from you. he is no longer allowed to watch

X — X-RAY. [ what’s going on under those clothes. ]

listen to me and listen to me well. definitely a shower, not a grower. 7-8 inches, slightly curved to the right and upwards. uncut. above average girth. a few veins, but there's one very prominent long vein that stretches from the underside of his dick all the way around to the top. slightly darker than the rest of his body BUT there are lighter patches of skin on and around his tip

Y — YEARNING. [ how high is their sex drive? ]

don't really see his drive being that high. definitely lower than average. but hey, he's not gonna say no to some sweet lovemaking.

Z — ZZZ. [ how quickly they fall asleep afterwards? ]

aftercare is literally his favorite part, so you bet it's going to be a while before he actually falls asleep. he has to get you all cleaned up and comfortable. finally, he pulls you in for cuddles. he waits until you're asleep before falling asleep himself

#speed run challenge on how long this stays up with no problems....#skip over the x-ray section #i don't know what demon wrote that...#but it was NOT me #one piece #benn beckman #beckman #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #one piece smut #benn beckman smut #beckman smut #☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.

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cozage · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Can I request how they would behave with a shy s/o that didn't confess yet because of that and doesn't plan to do? They'll need to find out.

For Beckman, Lucci and Crocodile (If you can't do some of them it's fine!)

Thank you!! I love how you portrait OP boys!!

A/N: I can indulge you with Beckman, anon, but I have failed miserably in trying to connect with Lucci and Crocodile. Forgive me!!! Also I need to note that I am only at Wano Country arc. I know all these men show up briefly after Wano but I’m not there yet so maybe I’ll be able to revisit this with a more accurate description after I get caught up on the manga?

Characters: gn reader x Beckman

Cw: bar scene, alcohol mention, little bit of angst

Total word count: 2k

A Life of Adventure

The Red-haired pirates had been coming to the bar you had worked at for about a month now, and every time Benn Beckman walked in through that door, your heart fluttered a bit. He sauntered over to the seat directly in front of you and sat down.

“The usual?” You asked, already pulling out a glass and filling it with top shelf whiskey.

“You know me so well, and we’ve only just met.” He smirked at you from across the bar. “Are you stalking me?”

It was the same banter you two exchanged every night, and every night it made you blush. The pirates sat scattered throughout the bar, but Beckman always sat in front of wherever you were making drinks.

You all had become quite close with each other in that time. Your eight-hour shifts ended frequently with you and Beckman strolling around the town, stargazing or night fishing. He always had some new adventure to show you, and you never wanted to turn him down. You had to admit, the pirate life seemed nice; you understood why he was a part of it. He managed to find and show you parts of the island you didn’t even know existed, even after living here for your entire life. You couldn’t wait to see what adventure he’d take you on today, tomorrow, and every other day they were here to shake up your life in your tiny island town.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Beckman said, breaking your thoughts.

“Leaving?” His words shocked you, and the glass in your hand dropped to the ground, shattering on impact. You stared at him with your mouth open, trying to process his words.

He just nodded, swirling the whiskey in his cup and then downing it all in one swig. He slid it back across the bar to you, and you reached out to grab it before it fell to the floor with the other glass.

You quickly filled his glass and set it back down in front of him, and then excused yourself to search for a broom.

As soon as you got to the back room, you could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes, and you blinked them away, fanning your eyes to keep them dry. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself, and then grabbed a broom and went to clean up the mess.

You weren’t delusional. You knew pirates didn’t stay in one place forever. Being a pirate meant that they were free to go wherever they chose, and Beckman probably wouldn’t even remember your name in three months. They’d move on to another island and he would find another bartender to be friendly with, just like he had with you, and just like he probably had hundreds of times before.

“Y/N?” It was Beckman, and he was peering over the counter to find you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah Beck, I’m fine. Just a bit clumsy.” You swept up the glass quickly and stood to face him, trying to push down your sadness.

He smiled at you, and you thought for a second you saw some sadness in his eyes, but then he laughed. Whatever emotion you thought you had seen was gone now, most likely a manifestation of your own feelings.

“Think you can get off early tonight? I have a little adventure I want to take you on.”

You wanted to go; you really did. But the bar was packed tonight, and you couldn’t leave your coworkers short staffed. Plus, a small part of you knew if you went, his absence tomorrow would only hurt more.

You shook your head. “Sorry, not tonight. We’re already short-staffed as it is.”

“Not even for my last night?” You tried not to flinch at his words. His eyes watched you carefully, watching you while he took a sip of the whiskey in front of him.

You hesitated, looking around again. The bar was lively now, but it might calm down as the night went on. “Ask me in a few hours, mmkay?”

“It’s been a few hours,” the voice sang from your favorite seat in the bar, and you glanced over at the man you had slowly fallen for over the past few weeks as he spoke.

You had to admit, you were a little angry he had given you such short notice on his departure. If you had known it would be his last night, you would’ve taken off, maybe you would’ve been bold and asked him on a date. Something. Anything. You wanted to spend the whole evening with him, hopping fences and jumping streams to find the best view on the island like you had been the past few nights. You wanted one last adventure with him before he left.

But tonight was too busy for even a casual conversation with him. You zipped around the bar, pouring drinks and serving food to patrons who never stopped drinking and eating. You coworkers had tried to pick up a few of your tables when they realized your situation, but it still wasn’t enough for you to take a seat and talk with Beckman, let alone leave the building with him.

You gave him a regretful look and a sad smile and shook your head at him. “Sorry, Beck. We’re just too busy tonight.”

He nodded and turned his gaze down to his drink. He’d wait as long as he needed to have one last fleeting moment with you.

Beckman had met many people in his travels with the Red-Haired Pirates, and he had flirted with just about every single one of them. But you were different. You made him want to stay, or at least take you with him.

A strong arm wrapped around his neck, and his captain leaned into him “So, what are you going to do?”

Beckman sighed. “I’m sticking around for a bit longer, but you guys go ahead. I’ll be there tomorrow at first light.”

Shanks laughed loudly, his voice echoing around the bar. Beckman’s eyes glanced to you, but you were preoccupied with another customer.

“That’s not what I mean, Beckman. I mean what are you going to do about that?” Shank’s eyes slid over to you as well, and Beckman felt his stomach knot a little.

“What about it?”

“Don’t worry, I give you my blessing, you know.” Beckman could see Shank’s eyes still on you, and he was grinning mischievously, as if the captain knew something he didn’t.

Beckman was getting irritated by his captain’s riddle. “Give your blessing on what?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

“Captain-”

“Ask them to join. Or offer to stay. Whichever you want.”

Beckman’s face must’ve been a sight to behold, because Shanks began laughing again. This time, you glanced over to see what the ruckus was, and caught Beckman’s eye. You smiled and gave a small wave, and his face began to feel warm again.

“Come on, Beckman,” Shanks voice was now low in his ear as they both watched you. “I can tell you’re head over heels for that one. And Y/N is head over heels for you too. So just ask them to join us. Or stay here.”

Shanks sighed, pulling away from his first mate. “I’d prefer the first one, personally. I’d love to have another crew member, and I definitely don’t want to lose you. But the decision is yours.” And with those final words, the red-haired captain left Beckman alone with his thoughts and the opportunity to keep you close to him for a while longer.

He stayed until the bar closed down, and then waited outside for you while you cleaned up.

“Go! We’ll be fine!” Your coworkers called, pushing you out the door. There was still a lot of closing tasks to do, but they were insistent they didn’t need your help. So you gathered your things, and took a deep breath before you opened the door into the cool night.

He was there, leaning against the side of the building, waiting for you like he promised. When he heard the door open, his head tilted up, and that smile you had grown so familiar with appeared on his face.

“I hate that your last night on the island was spent waiting for me to get off,” you apologize to him, but he waves it off.

“It’s no big deal. Come on, I’ve got a place to show you.”

You follow him through back streets and into the forest. You all don’t speak; you preferred the silence of the night while you all moved silently through the trees. After a few minutes of walking, you arrived at a small clearing. There was a lake on the far side, and the stars shone brilliantly overhead.

You had been here before, the two of you had found it on one of the first nights you had gone out exploring, but you hadn’t stopped long to enjoy it. Now though, you’re realizing you passed up an amazing view in search of a better one.

The two of you sat by the lake, and you listen to his stories of his adventures on the Grand Line. You tell him stories too, about your quiet and relatively uneventful life on the island. It’s amazing how you both can exist in the same part of the world and have such different experiences. You envied him, and you wondered if he envied you in any way.

“Are you happy here?” Beckman asks, and the question takes you by surprise. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring at the small fish that are swimming lazily at the lake’s edge.

“As happy as I can be.” That answer feels right to you. It’s not exactly the truth, but it’s not a lie either.

Beckman nods, and it’s silent for a while. You can see the night sky begin to lighten, and you realize the sun is starting to rise.

His voice comes again just as the sun starts to peek over the horizon. “Could you be happier? If you were somewhere else?”

Now is the time for you to tell him. All of the alarms are going off inside your head. Confess to him. Admit how much you long for an adventure. Tell him how exciting your life has been these past few weeks, how you desperately don’t want this to end. Beg him to stay, or ask him to take you with him.

But you can’t bring those words to form in your mouth. “Probably.” You curse yourself for such a simple and vague answer.

You risk a glance over at him, and you can see he’s still focused on the sunrise. Ships always leave at first light. He’s going to be late back to his crew, but he doesn’t appear to be concerned.

“Do you want to come with us?”

“Yes.” The words are out of your mouth before you even realize what he’s asking.

“Really?” He asks, not sure if he heard you correctly. He looks over at you, shocked by your immediate answer, and you blush deeply.

“Yes! Yes, Benn Beckman! Take me with you!”

His lips spread into a grin, and he stands quickly. His hand reaches down to take yours, and as you stand, he doesn’t let go. He pulls you along, back through the woods, through the town, and to the docks, never letting go of your hand until you reach the Red-Hair’s ship.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the plank that leads up to the deck, looking only at you. “Adventure awaits.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #benn beckman #red haired pirates #beckman x you #beckman x reader #beckman x y/n #✧˚beckman✧˚

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quinloki · 10 months

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Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: cisfem!reader Character: Benn Beckman (feat. Shanks) Kink: #14 Threesome Prompt: #16 "Scream my name when you cum, and I'll reward you." Gift Giver: @missbeckman

Summary: Your evening with Beckman and Shanks takes a new turn and you're not completely sure you're going to survive it.

Content Notes: pet names, degrading pet names, anal sex, vaginal sex, anal fingering, hair pulling, cum play, little brattiness from reader.

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

Beckman pulls his wet, lube covered fingers from your ass, eliciting a strangled groan from you as he wipes them clean on a nearby rag. He grabs your hips and starts helping you onto his hard cock. Your back’s to him, and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

Shanks is sitting nearby, leaned back in a chair and finishing the last few drinks of wine from the last bottle for the evening. He’s been practically leering at you as Beckman’s been teasing you and prepping your ass.

The two had spent the last hour stripping you down, pulling clothes from you with agonizing slowness as you danced around to a lazy series of songs playing in the large cabin. Soft kisses and rumbled promises of pleasure had passed between all three of you along with a few bottles of wine. Shanks liked to rest his hand on your hip when he leaned in and kissed you. Beckman liked to wrap you in his arms, gripping your ass and cradling your head as though he meant to shield you from the world when he kissed you.

Right now, your shivering gasps are the only sound in the cabin as your body twitches and stretches, taking the first mate’s impressive cock into your ass. Beckman knew how to do it well – he’d spent ample time loosening you up and was guiding you down skillfully. You were near to the brink of an orgasm when your ass met his hips, toes curling as your back arches against him.

Beckman’s hands slide up from your hips, warm calloused hands pressing into your sides as they move to your chest, cupping your breasts in large palms before his fingers began to tease your nipples.

“You’re holding back, my sweet.” He teases, letting his low voice sink into your ear. “Where’s my good whore? The one who nearly screams her pleasure into the air, begging for more cock?”

Your hands are on his arms, steadying yourself as your hips twitch with him buried inside you, jolts of pleasure driving into your chest as he teases your nipples. Pleasure-filled gasps sneak past your lips and you squirm a little, looking over your shoulder toward Beckman.

“Wa-waiting for you two… to do something worth being a whore for.” You tease, smirk on your lips as you shift your hips, teasing the man buried in your ass.

“… Going to be a brat tonight, eh?” Beckman warns, his hands shifting down to your thighs as he grabs your legs, pulling them apart and nuzzling his lips against your neck. “Captain’s a good brat tamer.” He says it dangerously, and you look back over to realize that Shanks isn’t lazing back in the chair anymore.

There’s a sharp glint in his eyes as he walks toward you, pulling his sash free and stepping out of his pants – the last of the clothing he’d been wearing. He was sufficiently turned on. His thick cock twitched in the open air, precum glinting in the moonlight that was illuminating the room.

“Captain’s not a maximum effort kind of guy,” you say, trying to keep the crooked grin on your face and the arrogance in your voice. “A few bottles of wine, and maybe he’s not feeling that extra effort tonight.”

You’re on full display for your Captain, blood rushing under your skin, heart thundering in your chest. You move to lean forward, to offer your mouth as you have before when Shanks grabs your hair and pulls your head up roughly. You hiss a bit before he captures your lips, kissing you deeply.

The kiss is wet and sweet, and the last mouthful of wine from the bottle rushes in along with his tongue. Lines of red wine slip past your lips as you struggle to swallow what you can, causing dark lines to stain down your neck.

Shanks breaks the kiss, holding your head as he licks the lines of wine trailing down your neck. Hot, wet lips travel over you as a wet tongue does little more than smear the thin lines of wine against your flesh. His teeth are against your skin, soft warm breath caressing you.

“That a challenge, (Y/N)?” Shanks questions. His voice seems neutral enough, on the edges of drunkenness and teasing.

“Sure, captain.” You gasp, breaking into goose bumps as his teeth wander over your skin.

You hear Beckman grunt behind you as he lays back, bringing you with him and shifting the hard dick buried in you. You gasp, and it turns into a moan as Shanks’ cock is against your slit, teasing and rutting against your clit before you can gather your bearings.

“W-Wait!” You gasp. You’ve shared the bed with Beckman and Shanks plenty of times, but you never had them both inside you at the same time. They’ve made a spit roast of you a couple times, but usually Shanks was content to watch, and you and Beckman were content to be watched.

This was your first time in this situation.

Shanks ruts a little harder. “Mmm? I thought you were challenging me, brat? Backing down already?” He questions with a grin.

“She’s already aware how fucked,” Beckman bucks his hips, driving into you and pushing you into Shanks forcing a deep moan out of you as your body trembled with pleasure. “She is.”

“Haa, haa – p-please go ease – ahhmmnng, easy on me.” You gasp, hands against Shanks’ chest as he leans over you, lining himself up with your wet entrance.

“That,” He says, pushing his tip into your sopping cunt with a loud squelch. “Would be too much effort.” He grins, pushing himself deeper as your legs twist and curl from the incredibly full feeling of being stuffed with both of them at the same time.

The captain and his first mate moved flawlessly together. Once Shanks was completely buried inside you they went to work. Rubbing you inside and out, you lost track of whose hands were where, as pleasure jolted through your core, your nipples, your neck, gentle caresses against your fingers addled your brain as Shanks’ abs pressed against your clit, teasing your relentlessly.

“Where’s that cocky attitude?” Shanks teases, smacking the side of your face as you nearly pant in pleasure from the coordinated thrust of them both burying themselves deep inside you.

You try to form words to respond to him, but every time they move in unison it fries your brain. You’re only vaguely aware you’ve been riding the same edge for several long minutes now, and you can feel tears forming in the edges of your eyes as you try to beg for release.

Beckman’s hand is around your throat, holding you close against his chest as his other hand tweaks your nipple harshly, catching your attention and helping you focus.

“Scream my name, love, when we make you cum, and we’ll reward you.” He commands, getting you to nod your head. “Deep breath now.”

He and Shanks begin to nearly piston into you, caresses and kisses slowing neither of them down as pleasure floods into every inch of your skin. You’re clawing at Shanks’ back, squirming and tensing between their bodies.

“I’m! I’m – fffuuu-!” The swear breaks in your throat and you gasp as the orgasm rushes your senses. “I’m c-cumming, B-Beckmannnggghh!” Your body tenses, teeth clenching against the pleasure as the rush muddles your mind and senses. The two ride you through the pleasure slowly, pulling every small twitch and shudder from you under your limbs are nearly noodles.

Beckman’s fingers push into your mouth and you start to lick and suck on them without giving it much conscious thought.

“Ah, that’s my good girl.” He muses, his satisfied chuckle rumbling against your back.

Beckman promises you a proper reward, but after that the rest of the night is a blur. When you come down from whatever number your last orgasm was, you were sore, tired, and sticky. You had cum drying on your face, leaking from your ass and trailing down your thighs. Sticky globs on your chest and matted patches of hair had you groaning.

“There she is.” Shanks grins, looking like he didn’t just help wreck you. “You slipped into subspace pretty quick after that first orgasm. How you feeling?”

“Sticky.” You mumble, accepting his offered hand as he helps you stand.

“Benny’s getting the bath ready.” He grins. “Want a piggyback ride?” He questions, smearing the last few half-dried globs of cum across your chest.

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

#birthday request event #one piece drabble #benn beckman #beckman x reader #shanks x reader #x reader #Happy birthday Miss Beckman <3 - thank you for this - I hope you like it.#I did have a bit of a rough day from yesterday into day #but I hope I was able to do it justice regardless =D

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jintaka-hane · 2 months

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Two Days (Beckman x f!Reader)

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Pairing: benn beckman x f!reader Summary: The first mate of the Red Force and yourself have been navigating a long-distance relationship for quite some time. As he docks at your port, you have two precious days for a reunion. During his stay, both of you will recall the day you first crossed paths: a dreadful evening where nothing unfolded as anticipated. Word Count: 5735 Notes: This is my contribution to 'The Great Beckmaning'! It was a looooooot of fun to write, and I'm considering writing about what happened after the tavern brawl, hehe. My gift for the Beckman’s wives army! PS: Not being a native speaker, there may be errors, but I have put all my heart into it, bear with me! Warnings: Mild NSFW, father!beckman x mother!reader, established relationship, one sided enemies to lovers, shanks being silly, misunderstanding, longing, kissing, petting, domesticity, fluff, mentions of alcohol, guns, cigarettes, swearing, mention of pregnancy.

Taglist: @i-am-vita @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @lourvedreams @atinymonbebestay @ici-spicy @firefistussy

Songs that inspired me: First Light, Forgotten Voyage, The Arena, Lindsey Stirling

"You sure you can manage without me?" he asked, a familiar look of concern crossing his face.

"For the fifth time, Beck, YEEES!" bellowed the pirates of the Red Force in unison.

"I've left some instructions for…" he handed a note to the men, but everyone avoided taking it.

"Beck! We'll be fine, trust me!” Shanks pushed him down off the ship.

“But… the hole in the starboard bow needs…”

“AYE!! SHOVE OFF, BECK!”

"A’right, a’right…. behave yourselves. Especially you,” he added, gazing towards the captain.

"Enjoooooy! Don't worry about aaaanything… and give her my regards," Shanks said, winking.

And the second in command of the Red Force disembarked, unsure of what he would find upon his return.

It was a port he knew like the back of his hand, in a fishing village neither too small nor too large, populated by smiling and friendly folk.

He walked through a bustling square where locals sold their wares—a display of colorful fruits, fresh fish from the morning catch, and an eclectic array of handmaded items. In one corner, a quaint bakery beckoned with the tempting aroma of freshly baked pastries. He entered and bought the ones he thought you would like the most.

With the bag in hand, he continued down the street until he reached a modest yet charming house. He grasped the doorknob and turned it, the familiar creak of the door indicating that it was not locked. With a gentle push, the door swung open.

He had warned you countless times about the importance of securing your home, yet you never seemed to heed his advice. However, he wouldn't scold you this time. Not when it had been three long months since your last meeting, and he only had two precious days to enjoy your company.

"Y/n?" He called out to you, but there was no response.

His steps carried him first to the kitchen. He placed the bag of pastries he had purchased upon the counter, a surprise awaiting you. As his eyes scanned the room, he noticed that the wooden frame of a window needed repair, and that the pantry door wasn't closing properly. He would attend to that later.

He then made his way to the living room where he found you. Your graceful form was reclined upon the couch, peacefully lost in slumber. The way your hair spilled over the cushions, your chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths, and the flawless complexion of your face adorned with a faint smile in repose, rendered you truly breathtaking. A pang of longing gripped his chest, proof to the months he had spent yearning for you. But these two days together would surely mend any distance between you.

Beside you laid a beautiful baby girl, her eyes wide with innocence and curiosity as she gazed up at him with a smile.

"Here you’re, little one. I've missed you," he murmured, scooping her up into his arms and holding her close. With care, he raised her up to meet her gaze, marveling at the sight before him.

“So pretty... must have inherited your mother's genes, otherwise I wouldn't believe it with a father like me...".

The baby giggled at him, reaching out to touch the x-shaped scar on his face, but then her expression grew serious, her cheeks flushing red. A peculiar odor began to permeate the room, making Beckman chuckle.

"Ok, ok, let's change ya," he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He carried her to the bedroom, where he knew all the diapers and baby wipes were kept. With utmost care, he cradled the baby in one arm while using the other to retrieve the baby changer from your dressing table. Placing the baby, who giggled once more, in the changer, he gently removed her clothes and diaper. With ease, he cleaned her with a wipe, dried her tenderly with a soft towel, applied cream, and secured a clean diaper in place.

It was a curious sight to behold Benn Beckham, a rugged pirate of the seas known for his strength and fierceness, handling and caring for a delicate baby with such tenderness.

Once the baby was dressed, they made their way to the kitchen, disposed of the soiled diaper, and returned to the living room. Beckman settled into a rocking chair beside the couch, cradling the baby close. He hummed a sea shanty as a lullaby in his deep voice, stealing glances at you from time to time, careful not to disturb your slumber.

Farewell to the harbor, To my old hometown

Lets all sing out with a Don! As the ship sets sail

Waves of gold and silver dissolve to salty spray

As we all set sail to the ends of the sea…

Gradually, the baby's eyelids drooped until her eyes closed entirely. A smile graced Beckman's lips as he watched her drift off to sleep.

"Sleep tight, princess," he whispered tenderly.

Then, sinking back into the chair, he studied you thoughtfully. How was it that you had never left him all these years? You were a stunning, independent, and strong woman, and he couldn't help but wonder why you had remained by his side. In a town filled with men eager to win your affection, you had never once betrayed him or hinted at parting ways. Perhaps, he mused, this was love after all... And the fact that he returned to you every time he had the opportunity was his way to show you that he loved you back. And he always will.

As he admired your poised figure, memories of the day you had first crossed paths flooded his mind. What a chaotic mess it had been...

*** *** ***

It was shaping up to be a real wretched day. Shanks, in his usual state of inebriation, exhibited an unusual level of clumsiness, leaving him feeling like a caretaker tending to an unruly child. Whenever the captain sank into such a state, the crew inevitably followed suit, burdening him with additional duties both aboard and ashore. Having remained docked in the same port for a week, their departure was scheduled for the morrow, yet Shanks, in his folly, proposed a return to the tavern they had frequented the day before. Once more. The man seemed insatiable in his thirst for drink, oblivious to his prior excesses. With a sigh, Beckman acquiesced, resigned to another evening spent in the tavern...

The evening unfolded in customary fashion at the bar, with men swaying clumsily to the music and belting out off-key tunes. The crash of shattered glass echoed through the room as drinks slipped from careless hands, earning disapproving glances from the tavern's owner. Finding solace in a secluded corner, he ordered a pint of ale, lit a cigarette, and scanned the room in search of distraction.

Idiots, the lot of them, he mused.

His gaze wandered until it suddenly fixated on something that caught his attention. Across from him, nestled in a quiet corner, sat an intriguing woman, effortlessly beautiful and serene amidst the chaos. Engrossed in a book, she sipped at her drink, while a bag of pastries from a nearby bakery lay at her feet.

Must be one hell of a book to keep her absorbed in a joint like this.

He chuckled softly, entertained by the improbable sight of such a striking lady amidst the tavern's humble surroundings. She seemed to be alone. Could she perhaps provide him with some stimulating company for the evening? Surely, she would be the most engaging conversationalist in the room. It was worth a try.

However, before making any advances, a habitual reflex led him to gauge his captain's interest in her. His eyes swept the room until they settled on Shanks, who was engrossed in merriment with Roux and the others, urging him on with raucous cheers of 'Drink! Drink! Drink!'

Well, he thought, it seems she is mine for the takin’.

With a nod to the barman, he summoned him over.

“Boy, fetch that lady another round of whatever she's havin’. Put it on my tab,”' he instructed. The boy acknowledged the order and set off to fulfill it.

He observed from afar the woman's reaction when she received her pint of stout, the way her eyebrows arched in surprise. She glanced toward him as the barman gestured in his direction. Meeting her gaze, he raised his glass in greeting, only to receive a disdainful snort in return before she returned her attention to her book.

Darn. Not the smoothest start...

He felt a mixture of irritation and intrigue, but he was reluctant to come across as the sort of man who embarrasses himself by persisting in front of a woman's indifference. So he made an effort to brush it off, attempting to ignore her and the way she had rejected him with such disinterest.

As he tried to shift his focus, his mind wandered to the tasks awaiting him before the next day's departure. He made mental notes to check the main mast, which had been damaged in an attack, and ensure that the cargo was securely arranged, wary of any imbalance that could jeopardize the ship's stability.

He hadn't been listing his tasks for even five minutes when he noticed that Shanks had also become aware of the presence of the woman and was approaching her, stumbling toward her table with an oversized grin. With a gesture he likely deemed elegant, he extended his hand.

"Evenin’, sweetheart. I've come to rescue you from the clutches of boredom that book must be inflicting upon you. Care to dance?"

"Get lost," she shot back without even sparing him a glance.

Beckman chuckled.

The red pirates howled.

Shanks placed a hand over his heart, feigning heartbreak, then turned to the crew and erupted into laughter with the others.

“Bad luck, cap’n!!” one man shouted.

Turning back to her, Shanks remarked, "Well, I'll take that as a no, then. What are you drinking? Want another?"

"No, thank you" she replied firmly, and to further encourage him to depart, she added, "I've already been offered a beer by another man," smiling proudly at her own response.

"Oh? Is that so? I must be late then... And who might this gentleman be, sweetheart? I'm curious," he pressed.

With an air of indifference, she slowly pointed in his direction, causing him visible discomfort.

Shit.

Shanks and the entire crew turned their attention to him. Shanks's eyes widened, and after several moments of silence, the room erupted in laughter once more.

Despite knowing Shanks well enough to understand that his actions were not intended to ridicule him, he couldn't help but feel exposed and irked by the situation.

"Well, let's all raise a glass to our first mate!" Shanks declared, breaking the tension. "MAY HE BE LUCKY!".

"HEAR, HEAR!" echoed throughout the room as everyone raised their glasses, some of them whistling.

The captain turned once more to the woman, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. Then, with a broad grin, he directed his attention back to Beckman, raising his fist with his thumb pointed upward and offering a clumsy wink. And with that, he rejoined the men, who erupted into cheers.

Beckman pinched the bridge of his nose. As a man who valued the discretion of his affairs, he couldn't shake off the sense of shame engulfing him.

Perhaps he should go and offer an apology on behalf of his captain, then simply leave her be. That would be a good idea... so he did just that, approaching her table and pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

Drawing nearer, he couldn't resist stealing a better look at her. Her lips and delicate complexion caught his attention. His gaze inevitably wandered to her curves, wondering what it would be like to lose himself between those thighs. His thoughts took an improper turn, thoughts that he knew would trouble his sleep that night. Shaking off them, he reminded himself of his purpose: a simple apology. But before he could utter a word, she spoke nonchalantly.

"You never give up, do you?"

A’right, she's certainly a tough one. Attractive and pretending to be out of reach.

He left the chair on the floor and kept a calm smile.

"Doll, I just wanted to apologize for..."

"Doll?" She raised her eyes, interrupting him. "Fuck off, you drunkard. I hate pirates, you are all scum".

His smile faltered as her words caught him off guard.

"For someone who despises pirates, you speak like one, woman," he said, and glancing at the four empty glasses on the table he added. "And drink like one too..."

She shot him a lethal glare, and he raised his hands in surrender. "A’right, a’right, I'll leave you be."

Disappointed, he made his way back to his table. He was taking his seat when he spotted a group of men entering the tavern, armed and wearing expressions of menace. Their faces twisted into grimaces that spoke of hostility and a readiness for conflict and it appeared that they outnumbered their own group.

Not good, he muttered to himself.

They advanced through the crowd, shoving people roughly, taunting them, snatching their glasses and draining them defiantly in front of their angry stares. Tension hung thick in the air... and it reached a breaking point when one of them seized a chair, hoisted it into the air, and without giving anyone a chance to react, brought it crashing down onto Yassop's back. He cried out in pain and cursed.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scurvy dog?!"

Fuck.

The atmosphere grew heavier with tension, fists tightening, jaws clenching, and guns aimed at one another. Beckman instinctively reached for his rifle, drawing it from his sash.

"Beck? You still with us?" Shanks called him out, staying calm.

"Right 'ere".

“Please, no slaughter!" shouted the tavern owner.

Briefly, Beckman’s thoughts drifted to the lady, now frightened and huddled against the wall with her eyes fixed on the distant exit door, unattainable and out of reach. She was trapped. With long strides, he placed himself between the crowd and her, a protective barrier.

"Stay behind me”.

Damn, if she wasn't even willing to talk to him before, she surely would never want to see him again after what she was going to witness.

As one of the pirates moved toward him with a knife in one hand and a broken bottle in the other, intent on attacking, Beckman plucked the cigarette from his mouth with two fingers and flicked it toward one of his eyes. The ashes danced through the air with a spark before landing on their target.

“Don’t get cocky”.

And then chaos erupted.

*** *** ***

Back to the present, his mind wandered back to the same question that haunted him every time he saw you. What if he quitted everything and chose to stay with you? Didn't he deserve some happiness? He liked his life at sea but missed you terribly. And the baby, she surely needed him; as her father, it was his duty to raise her. But would you want that too? After all, you chose your path, and he, his…

Did you even need him? Perhaps not... he knew you managed perfectly well on your own. However, the red-haired one did need him and maybe that was the main reason he wouldn't bring himself to stay. No, for now, he couldn't stay, and both of you knew that, despite the yearning you held for each other.

Maybe one day... in the future... he could sort things out, he could even ask you to be officially his wife -would you accept?-, and build a home for your family, far from the dangers that came with a price on your head.

He rose from his seat and carefully placed the baby in a cradle that had been placed in the living room. Then, he made his way to the furthest window of the room, opened it to prevent bothering the baby with smoke, and retrieved a match and a cigarette. With practiced ease, he lit it and took a drag, inhaling deeply as he stared out of the window.

You opened your eyes, taking a few seconds to focus your gaze until you saw him. His unexpected presence caught you off guard.

A smile spread across your lips as you admired the sight: his broad shoulders outlined against the light, the curve of his neck, the way his now slightly gray hair was tied back in a ponytail... Throughout the years, he had continued to dress simply, wearing a black shirt and a yellow sash in which he usually kept a weapon. A tough and threatening appearance concealing a kind heart and a good man.

Relishing in the moment, you continued to observe him as memories of the day you first met flooded back. What a disaster it had been.

*** *** ***

You were enduring a dreadful day.

You had poured an entire year working very hard to open a bookstore, spending all your savings and efforts on finding a location, negotiating prices with suppliers, and advertising to make yourself known in the town. It was months of hard work and effort and it had only been a week since you opened. While business could have been better, you were not doing badly.

But that morning all your dreams were dashed, a group of pirates stormed into the town and set fire to several shops just for fun. From your bookstore, you could only save one copy, the one you happened to have in your bag at that moment.

You HATED pirates.

Seeking solace, you went to the tavern to have a drink and give your brain a break. You were overthinking too much about your future and were exhausted and moody. You wanted to be alone, so you didn't doll up—no makeup, no provocative dress, nothing—to keep idiots away from you.

As you sat there, already on your third pint of black beer, a group of pirates swaggered into the tavern.

That's all I needed... A bunch of brutes... And they're already drunk? Mmh not surprised.

You considered leaving the tavern, but no, you weren't going to be driven out by a bunch of thugs. You just wanted to relax a bit, and those drunkards didn't seem like a real threat. You thought that if you pretended to read the book you managed to save from the fire, no one would try to approach you, so you seized it and set it on the table.

Until now, with the rush, you hadn't had a chance to inspect it. Flipping it over, you were met with a cover depicting a suggestive scene—a blonde-haired woman in a purple dress, her knee on the lap of a sun-bronzed, bare-chested man, unmistakably a pirate, while lavender-hued letters announced:

'How to Seduce Pirates, Part 2 (Take Him to Bed)"

A flush crept up your cheeks.

Seriously? Out of an arsenal of nearly 3000 books, I could only save this one?

Surely, it wasn't the kind of book you'd want to find yourself reading in a setting like this… but there was no other choice.

The atmosphere crackled chaotic, a symphony of raucous voices and clinking glasses filling the air. Men, their movements awkward and uncoordinated, swayed to the music, their off-key singing punctuated by the sharp sound of breaking glass. 'Drink! Drink! Drink!' they chanted, their voices rising above the chaos.

Amidst the tumult, maintaining the pretense of reading became an arduous task. You sighed deeply, the book in your hands a shield against the uproar. Not even five minutes had passed when the barman addressed you.

"Here you have, ma'am," you glanced up at the boy, noticing him set a beer on your table and gesture towards the man who had ordered it: a pirate, of course. A tall one, with black hair tied back in a ponytail. He smiled kindly at you, lifting his drink.

You really weren't in the mood.

What an arrogant prick, how dare he disturb me like that? I'm not even going to thank him...

You snorted and redirected your attention back to the book. But glancing at the pages, your mind tricked you and started conjuring up images of the man.

Alright, he's attractive, I'll give him that. With that black t-shirt barely covering his chest.

That

Chest

Maybe I'm being stubborn and could just talk with him.

That might help me forget my problems... even if just for one night…

I could rip off his sash in one pull and see what's underneath...

NO.

He's a pirate.

Absolutely not.

No way.

Never.

You were lost in your thoughts when a red-haired man with a big smile stumbled over to your table. With a clumsy movement, he extended his hand and addressed you.

"Evenin’, sweetheart. I've come to rescue you from the clutches of boredom that book must be inflicting upon you. Care to dance?"

How? And why? Can't they leave me alone?

"Get lost" was the best reply you could muster.

The man put on a little show to make his friends laugh.

“Bad luck, cap’n!!” one man shouted.

Turning back to you, he remarked, "Well, I'll take that as a no, then. What are you drinking? Want another?".

"No, thank you" you replied firmly, and to further encourage him to depart, you added, "I've already been offered a beer by another man".

"Oh? Is that so? I must be late then... And who might this gentleman be, sweetheart? I'm curious," he pressed.

Oh, that black-haired man was going to regret bothering you. With an air of indifference, you slowly pointed in his direction and watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The lines of expression beneath his eyes grew deeper and against your will, you thought he was really cute like that.

The red-haired man and the entire crew turned their attention to the uncomfortable man and after several moments of silence, the room erupted in laughter once more.

"Well, let's all raise a glass to our first mate!"

Ah, the first mate.

"MAY HE BE LUCKY!"

He won't be, not with me, anyway.

"HEAR, HEAR!" echoed throughout the room as everyone raised their glasses whistling.

"He is a good man, sweetheart, don't be scared of him," the man whispered in your ear before leaving with his friends, who greeted him. You were a bit shocked and didn't know why, but you sensed that that drunkard meant no harm.

Well, you sighed, not like I am changing my mind. Having already chased away two of them, I'm sure I can continue drinking in solitude.

But you were mistaken, because two minutes later you felt a presence scanning your body.

The first mate.

With a chair in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth, a strand of hair falling over his face.

Oh, for god’s sake…

"You never give up, do you?" you threw at him without taking your eyes off the book. For a moment, you felt him hesitate.

"Doll, I just wanted to apologize for..."

"Doll?" You thought he was mocking you and you exploded, a surge of hatred resurfacing in you. You had tried today to go unnoticed and failed miserably. The memory of your ravaged bookstore brought tears to your eyes, yet you fought to restrain them. And moreover, you felt guilty for being drawn to this man. All you wanted was to distance yourself from him and continue drinking alone.

You did direct your gaze upward, very much upward, honestly, how tall is he? to look at him.

"Fuck off, you drunkard. I hate pirates, you are all scum".

You flinched at your own words and regretted them immediately. Too harsh, even if you wouldn't take them back now.

"For someone who despises pirates, you speak like one, woman" he said, glancing at the four empty glasses on the table he added. "And drink like one too...".

Fair point.

You gave him a deadly look and he raised his hands, defeated. "A’right, a’right, I'll leave you be”.

He turned away and walked off from you, while you stood there wondering if you had been too harsh. Your thoughts were interrupted as you spotted a group of men entering the tavern.

Great, more pirates, you thought, all the same crew, you supposed.

They were armed and wore expressions of menace, appearing unfriendly and eager for conflict.

In a moment of escalation, one of them seized a chair, lifting it high into the air. Without a moment for anyone to intervene, it came crashing down onto the back of another man. His cry of pain mingled with curses as he writhed in agony.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scurvy dog?!"

The tension in the air thickened, fists clenched, jaws tightened, and guns leveled at each other.

You stood up, visibly worried about your safety. Your eyes flickered to the exit door, tucked away in the opposite corner of the room and blocked by the crowd of pirates. It was going to be impossible for you to escape from that place. Where could you possibly go, or hide?

"Beck? You still with us?"

Beck.

"Right ’ere," he answered.

“Please, no slaughter!”

In that moment, you caught sight of the first mate, holding a rifle in one hand and a cigarette still dangling from his mouth, moving toward you as though he intended to shield you.

"Stay behind me," he said over his shoulder.

Damn, minutes before, you didn't even want to talk to him, and now you just wanted to see him again.

As a pirate moved toward you, intent on attacking, the man protecting you plucked the cigarette from his mouth with two fingers and flicked it toward one of the pirates' eyes. The ashes danced through the air with a spark before landing on their target.

“Don’t get cocky”.

And then, the hell started.

*** *** ***

Alright, enough with the nostalgia, you thought, bringing your focus back to the present moment.

Restraining your urge to run towards him and jump into his arms, you pondered over what would be the most fitting greeting for him.

"Benn Beckman, you have balls to smoke near the baby in front of me," you decided to say to him, your arms crossed.

He turned towards you immediately, initially taken aback by your confrontational tone, but relaxed when he saw your face. Leaning his elbows on the windowsill, his eyes locked onto yours as he raised the cigarette to his lips and took a defiant puff.

"Well then, c’mere and try to take it from me".

You stood and approached him, attempting to maintain a serious expression. Raising your right hand, you tried to pluck it from his lips, but he was quicker, lifting it with his hand out of your reach. You huffed in frustration, grabbing his shirt and pushing him down pretending to go kiss him. He smelled like a mixture of tobacco, salt, seawater, and damp wood. As he leaned down to kiss you, you seized the opportunity to snatch the cigarette from his fingers just as your lips were about to meet.

With your prize secured, you dashed away down the hallway chuckling at his puzzled expression. He pursued you immediately, his steps echoing in the hallway as he closed the distance. Before you realize, strong arms enveloped you, lifting you by the hips effortlessly.

“Gotcha”.

Turning you gracefully in mid-air, he spun you around to face him. You giggled as you encircled his waist with your legs and clasped onto his shoulders, steadying yourself.

“I think you have something that belongs to me,” he said with a raspy voice.

You raised your hand, the cigarette poised between your fingers, teasingly moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue.

“Do you mean this?”

With deliberate allure, you took a drag before exhaling the smoke slowly, your eyes locked onto his.

“No, this,” with a hunger born of desire, he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss.

You released the cigarette from your grasp, allowing it to fall to the floor. Without hesitation, he swiftly brought his foot down upon it, extinguishing the ember with a resolute stomp.

He swept you into the kitchen, his lips still crashing into yours, before carefully seating you on the cool surface of the dining table. With your eyes shut, you remained oblivious to where you were until the chill of the table beneath your thighs prompted you to open them and take in your surroundings. You barely had a second to look around before you felt Beckman’s fingers touch your chin, drawing your mouth back to his again.

You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, and heard him growl softly. You smiled at this, your hands tracing the contours of his back until they grazed the yellow fabric cinched around his waist.

All the while he devoured your lips, you began untying the sash, a task that with practice, you had learned to do quickly. The moment it came undone, it slipped from his waist and dropped to the floor. Then, pressing your hand against his chest, you broke the kiss, your lips parting to catch your breath.

"How much time?,” you asked.

"Two days”.

"Okay," you replied without complaint or further inquiry. Both of you knew that arguing about it would only cause pain and frustration, as there was nothing that could be done.

Slipping his hands beneath your shirt, he began to caress the skin of your stomach, his fingertips sending shivers down your spine. "Enough time to put another child in this beautiful belly”.

You huffed and tried in vain to shove him off. “Don't you dare, Benn Beckman”. He chuckled and started kissing your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, and you thought you heard him mumble we’ll see against your skin.

He pushed your legs slowly, spreading them to make room for your bodies to embrace. When they reached the limit, his hands moved to your small back and he pulled you firmly towards him. You gasped at the resolute movement.

“C’mere”.

A stray lock of hair escaping from his ponytail tickled your face, and with the tip of your fingers, you attempted to tuck it behind his ear, only for it to promptly slip out again.

"Where is the boy?" He asked between kisses, unable to separate his lips from yours or his hands from your back.

"Out. Playing with some friends," you managed to say.

"Mmh,” he adjusted his position to center his body with yours, his legs firm against the dining table. “One day I must teach him to fire a gun,” he mumbled.

"He is… only four… years old, Beck”

“Mmmh,” he murmured absentmindedly, his attention focused on the task of urging your body to recline upon the table's surface. You surrendered to his gentle push, letting him guide you until you were lying on your back, utterly exposed to him.

He took a moment to observe you, his gaze lingering on your swollen lips and your chest panting beneath him. You were a sight to behold.

“Fuck, look at you... you’re beautiful…”

His fingers lifted the edge of your skirt and tenderly traced the curve of your thigh, from knee to hip. A warmth began to spread wildly through your lower body as he kissed your neckline, unbuttoning your shirt impatiently at the same time. You raised your legs, wrapping them around his waist with a firmness that conveyed your desire to pull him closer, molding his body against yours in an embrace of longing and urgency.

“Beautiful and all mine…”

Your back arched instinctively, a silent expression of anticipation coursing through your body. He used this movement to slide his hands under your back, lifting and drawing your body even closer against his.

“Bed? Beck…”

“No time,” he managed to say.

He devoured you hungrily, his hands looking for the buckle of his belt in a desperate attempt to free himself. Your breaths quickened in unison, your bodies attempting to meld together…

"HI MOM! I’M AT HOME!"

His movements halted abruptly at the sound of a joyful four-year-old entering the house.

Fuck

With a swift motion, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, hurriedly smoothing down your disheveled clothes and tousled hair.

“I’ll take care of you later," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. A promise he’d better fulfill.

--------------

You had sex all night.

It was an intense session in which your bodies sought each other, embracing and clutching in a dance that lasted until dusk, aiming to reclaim all the pleasure you had yearned for those last months.

Striving to keep both of you hushed, for fear of waking up the kids, he did his best to swallow your moans and stifle his own grunts against your neck, relieving tension in silence.

He whispered praises ranged from the utmost devotion to the dirtiest and most obscene terms, and performed the sweetest and most affectionate caresses intertwined with the most brutal and energetic thrusts.

Every time you reached a peak, with hearts fluttering in unison in your chests, a simple glance, word, or touch reignited a flame that took you all night to quench.

In the soft morning glow, as the sun ascended, you lay in bed, your body exhausted and sore. Your head nestled against his chest, feeling the comforting warmth radiating from his body. He stared at the ceiling, clearly lost in thought, something heavy weighing on his mind.

"Darlin’," he broke the silence.

"Mmh?"

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes, quietly awaiting his words.

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, he hesitated.

"... you know I'd never smoke right next to the baby, right?"

So, that's what it was.

You couldn't help but smile. Finding comfort in the moment, you nestled your face against his chest once more, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

"I know, love," you murmured softly, your fingertips gently caressing his scarred temple. "I love you."

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