Talk dirty to me

WELCOME! This is collection dedicated to Benn Beckman,mostly smut warnings came from the authors once I'm outrageous reader. Take a seat

[missbeckman]

the author of the header image, please support:

まーぼどうふ lit.link

まーぼです！OP夢顔あり夢主で漫画描いています。本誌勢！、SNS、画像、音楽、動画、個性とスタイルを１リンクに

やわらか豆腐

やわらか豆腐 (関連作家：まーぼどうふ)に関する同人誌・同人グッズは、11件お取り扱いがございます。「LIKE A FLOWER」「接吻」など「LIKE A FLOWER」「接吻」など、ONE PIECE に関する人気作品を多数揃えております。やわらか豆腐 に関する同人誌・同人グ

I got mine here: https://otakurepublic.com/product/product_page_7021631.html?ref=cart&type=history_product

[one-pieces-things]

I’m obsessed with Benn Beckman. Take this where you want it, could we get a nsfw scenario with him dirty talking and praising fem!reader in bed. I’m drooling for him lol

Sorry again for the long wait, I see a lot of people are drooling for Benn guess he's very attractive then, enjoy starlight ✨

𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚗 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: ᴺˢᶠᵂ, ᵉˣᵖˡⁱᶜⁱᵗ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵉˣ, ᵖʳᵃⁱˢᵉ/ᵈᵉᵍʳᵃᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵏⁱⁿᵏ, ᵈᵒᵐⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉ/ˢᵘᵇᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐⁱᶜ, ᵈⁱʳᵗʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ.

The low lamplight of your cabin cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. Benn Beckman was a warm, solid weight behind you, his chest pressed against your back and one of his powerful arms wrapped securely around your waist. His other hand was occupied, tracing slow, deliberate patterns over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his calloused fingertips sending shivers up your spine with every pass.

You could feel the low rumble of his chest before you heard his voice, a deep gravelly sound that vibrated right through you. "Still with me, sweetheart?" he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Or did I already fuck you senseless?"

You let out a soft, breathy hum, arching back into him. Your body was pliant, buzzing with a pleasant exhaustion and the promise of more. "Still here," you managed to whisper, your voice husky.

He chuckled, a dark, pleased sound. "Good. I'm not done with you yet." His hand on your thigh shifted higher, his thumb ghosting over your slick folds, making you gasp. "Fuck, look at you. So responsive. I barely have to touch you and you're already shaking for me."

His praise was a potent drug, heating your blood and making your heart hammer against your ribs. He knew exactly what it did to you, the bastard. He loved seeing you fall apart just from his words.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he continued, his voice dropping to a near-growl. "Walking around on my ship, looking all sweet and untouchable. Makes a man want to ruin you. And here you are," he slid two fingers inside you with a slow, deliberate thrust, "letting me. Letting me have every goddamn piece of you."

You cried out, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. He set a languid, torturous pace, his fingers curling to brush against that spot inside you that made your vision white out.

"That's it, ride my hand," he commanded, his grip on your waist tightening. "Show me how much you want it. So fucking greedy for it, aren't you? My pretty little girl, taking my fingers so well. You're so damn tight, squeezing me like you don't want to let me go."

His words were filth, but they were laced with an adoration that made your chest ache. He wasn't just degrading you; he was worshipping you in the only way he knew how, with raw, unfiltered honesty.

"You're incredible," he grunted, his own breathing growing heavier as he ground his hardening cock against your ass. "So beautiful when you're lost in it. That face you make... like you're seeing god. All you're seeing is me, sweetheart. Just me."

He shifted, moving to kneel between your legs, forcing you onto your back. He loomed over you, his silver hair falling into his dark, intense eyes. He looked like a predator, and you were his willing prey. He lined himself up, the thick head of his cock teasing your entrance.

"Last chance to back out," he teased, though you both knew it was an empty threat. "Once I'm in, I'm not stopping until you're screaming my name and you can't remember your own."

"Please, Benn," you begged, wrapping your legs around his hips and trying to pull him in.

A feral grin spread across his face. "That's what I like to hear." He pushed forward, sinking into you in one slow, deep stroke that stole the air from your lungs. He paused, buried to the hilt, just to feel you clench around him. "Goddamn," he breathed, his forehead resting against yours. "Perfect. You were fucking made for me, weren't you?"

He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, hitting every sensitive spot you had. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, kneading your breasts, tangling in your hair.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice rough. When your eyes fluttered open to meet his, he smiled. "There she is. My good girl. Taking my cock so deep, so fucking well. You feel that? That's all for you. Every inch."

The coil in your stomach tightened impossibly fast, his praise and his relentless pace pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Benn, I'm—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cut you off, his rhythm never faltering. "Let go. Come for me. I want to feel you soak my cock. Be a good girl and give it to me."

His words were your undoing. Your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your body convulsed beneath him. He groaned, his own control snapping as he chased your release, his thrusts becoming erratic before he buried himself deep one last time, spilling into you with a guttural curse.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting anchor as you both struggled to catch your breath. After a long moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were draped across his chest. He pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to your sweaty forehead.

"Did so good for me," he murmured, his voice soft and sated. "So damn good."

[alwayssassydreamer]

Claiming The Flower

A/N: Thank you Anons for requesting "yandere beckman x a young reader first time please" plus "Beckman has a fetish for corrupting his shy virgin fem!reader" I decided to throw them together because I felt that worked pretty well. I hope it's okay. I swear my writing muse decided to go on a very long vaccation and I hope this turned out well.

Word count >4500

Plot: you used to work at a flower shop till Beckman offered you a thrilling life on the sea. Little did you know that Beckman wanted more than just to show you the world.

Warnings: NSFW, yandere Beckman, corruption kink, shy younger reader, Beck calling reader Petal, first time, Beck being a bit "mean", some praising, p in v, some fingering, some oral (receiving), handjob, not proofread, MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Beckman x FReader

The salt wind whipped strands of hair across your face, stinging your eyes. You hugged your arms, not just against the chill, but against the sheer, overwhelming vastness of the ocean stretching to a horizon you never knew existed. This wasn't the neatly trimmed, rose-scented world of your past. This was the Red Force, a floating testament to chaos and freedom.

A week ago, you had been meticulously arranging peonies in Mrs. Gable's flower shop, the scent of damp earth and blossoms clinging to your apron. That day, a tall, silent man with silver hair and an aura that commanded attention had walked in. He hadn't asked for flowers. He had asked for you.

"You have a quiet sort of beauty," Benn Beckman had observed, his voice a low rumble that had made the delicate glass vases tremble. He hadn't threatened you, he didn’t need to. He had simply presented a world beyond your small town, a world with him at it's center, twisting your quiet longing for something more into a desperate need for his attention. He had woven a narrative so compelling, so focused on your unique fragility, that you had somehow found yourself agreeing to leave everything behind. He called it an invitation. You knew deep down, even then, it had been something different.

Now, that "invitation" had fully materialized. He stood beside you at the railing, a silent, imposing shadow. The cigar smoke curling from his lips was a familiar scent, a constant reminder of his presence. His arm was casually draped over the railing behind you, a territorial gesture that went unnoticed by the boisterous crew but felt like a physical weight against your back.

"Lost in thought, Petal?" His voice, deep and calm, always made your stomach clench. He had taken to calling you "Petal" soon after you had boarded, a nod to your past and a constant reminder of the bloom he intended to pluck.

You flinched, startled from your reverie. "Just… thinking about home."

A low chuckle vibrated through him. "This is your home now." His hand moved, slowly, deliberately, to rest on your waist, his thumb tracing small, possessive circles against the fabric of your dress. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, delivered with the quiet authority of a man who never expected to be defied. "You belong here. With us. With me."

He watched the subtle tremor that went through you, a tiny flicker of fear that he seemed to savor. "Don't you agree?"

You swallowed, the salt in the air suddenly thick, suffocating. You didn't dare look into those calculating, intelligent eyes. "Yes," you whispered, the word barely audible over the creak of the ship.

"Good girl." The praise was soft, intimate and utterly chilling. He squeezed your waist gently, a silent warning, a promise of what he intended to unravel, petal by agonizing petal. You were no longer just a florist, you were his newest, most delicate possession.

In the week that followed, Beckman didn’t just share your space, he began to build a new reality just for you.

He started by subtly orbiting around you almost 24/7 always making sure that he was your center, that he was the one on your mind and you found yourself subconsciously listening for the strike of his lighter or the heavy, rhythmic thud of his boots, anticipating it.

He summoned you into the office later one evening, nothing unusual you spent many hours there with Beckman teaching you how to read maps. The "lesson" Beckman had planned this time though wasn't about navigation or star charts. He had cleared the central table, leaving only a single candle flickering.

"You're falling apart, Petal," he murmured, standing behind you in the cabin. He didn't touch you yet, but the heat radiating from his body was a magnet. "The sea is too much for someone so delicate. You’re starting to realize that, aren't you?"

"I... I just feel out of place," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs.

"Because you're trying to hold onto a girl who doesn't exist anymore," he said, finally leaning in. His chest pressed against your back, and for the first time, the fear felt like a relief. "The florist is dead. You're a pirate's woman now. My woman. Stop fighting it and the shaking will stop."

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Tell me you want to stay here. In this room. Where it's quiet."

Beckman made sure you craved the cage he was building for you and you were too sweet to see it or maybe too shy to say something. "I want to stay," you breathed, leaning back into his solid frame. You were addicted to the very thing that was consuming you.

The air in the cabin was thick with the scent of tobacco and the impending storm outside. Beckman hadn't let you leave his side all day. He had been feeding you small sips of his heavy, dark liquor, fueling a heat in your blood that you didn't know how to extinguish.

He walked over to the leather chair and sat down, pulling you to stand between his knees. His large hands rested on your thighs, the callouses catching on the fabric of your dress.

"You've never been touched like this, have you?" he asked, his voice a gritty caress. He knew the answer. He had studied your history like a map.

"No," you whimpered, your face flushing a deep crimson.

"Good. I want to be the one to teach you everything. I want every thought you have about pleasure to be tied to my face, my voice, my hands." He stood up, towering over you, the sheer physical power of the man forcing you to look up. "I’m going to ruin that shy little heart of yours and you’re going to thank me for it. But since I'm in a good mood we're gonna start slow" he smirked predatory as he hinted at his belt.

Ypu swallowed hard and your fingers trembled violently against the cold metal of his belt buckle. You had never touched a man like this, let alone a man who looked at you like you were a prize he had spent a lifetime hunting.

Beckman didn’t help you. He leaned back into his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest, watching your struggle with a dark, patient amusement.

"Fingers shaking that much?" he hummed, his voice dropping an octave. "You’re making me wait, Petal. That’s a dangerous game to play with a man like me."

With a small, frustrated sigh, you finally managed to undo the leather. The sound of the buckle clinking felt like a gunshot in the silent room. Beckman's hand suddenly shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you flush against him. The sudden closeness made you feel small, fragile and utterly consumed by his presence.

"Since you're so shy," he whispered, his breath hot against your lips, "we’ll start with something you will be able to do without crying, something.......under the 'covers'."

He guided your hand beneath the fabric of his pants, forcing your palm against his member. Your eyes went wide, a gasp escaping your throat that was far too loud for the quiet room. He was solid, hard, pulsing and terrifyingly real. You felt the veins around his thick length and it made you involuntarily bit your lip.

"Look at me while you do it," he commanded, clearly amused by your shy little bite of your lower lip, as he began to move your hand in a slow, agonizing rhythm guiding you. Teaching you how to please him like this. He made your hand move slow at first adjusting your grip around him whenever you slacked, all while making sure you were looking into his eyes.

"Just like that Petal" he grunted as he urged you to move your hand faster and faster until you heard him growl deeply and suddenly felt something warm and wet cover your hand.

"Good girl," he praised as his breathing began to even out again and you slowly pulled your hand away staring at the mess on it and he chuckled.

"That's the evidence that you are ready for more" he explained though you weren't so sure about it but at the same time his voice, his presence and this feeling, the cum on your hands made you feel a strange sensation deep inside you.

"But not tonight, tonight you'll be sleeping in my bed and tomorrow your next lesson will begin, don't worry sweet Petal I'm taking good care of you, but first you better clean your hand and if you're doing it properly I'll keep you nice and warm for the rest of the night," he said and you wanted to go wash your hand but he stopped you with a dark chuckle.

"No Petal, not with water use your tongue show me how good you can be, how much you cherish what I give you" he smirked and you looked wide eyed at him before starting to lick his cum off and he loved watching you.

Only when you were finished did he pull you into his arms carrying you into his room where he indeed didn't try anything more and simply held you close his hand between your thighs but not at your core and you were truly believing that Beckman was really just trying to make sure you were save and cared for.

The next day Beckman kept you close throughout the whole day whipsering into your ear that you were expected in his cabin after you had finished your duties.

When you were finally done with today's work and a hovering Beckman never leaving you out of sight for too long you entered his cabin, your knees feeling weak already. Beckman was already there, leaning against the far wall with a cigarette between his lips. He didn't move as you approached, but his eyes followed every frantic beat of the pulse in your throat.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair.

As you sat, Beckman moved behind you. He didn't touch you at first, he simply stood close enough that his heat radiated through your thin shirt.

"A pirate’s life is about taking what they want," he murmured, his voice a low vibration. "But you... you wait to be given permission to even breathe, as you proofed last night. It’s not very pirate like but it's incredibly arousing."

He reached over your shoulder, his large hand splaying flat against your stomach, pulling you back against his hard chest. You let out a small, broken whimper, your hands fluttering uselessly over his.

"Shh," he hissed against your ear. "Next lesson. Your body isn't your own anymore, not after yesterday, not after you showed me you were ready to be mine. It's an instrument. And I’m the only one who gets to play it."

Beckman’s other hand moved to the top button of your dress. He didn't undo it, he just toyed with the fabric, his knuckles grazing your collarbone.

"I want to hear you," he whispered. "I want to hear every shameful sound you’ve been swallowing down since you joined this crew. If you try to stay quiet, I’ll just make it harder for you."

His hand on your stomach slid lower, his palm pressing firmly against the heat gathering between your thighs. You gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Look at me," he ordered.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his dark, predatory gaze in the reflection of a glass-fronted cabinet across the room. You looked wrecked, cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wide with a mix of terror and a blooming, traitorous heat and need.

"You like being handled like this, don't you?" Beckman’s thumb began to move, a slow, rhythmic pressure through the fabric of your dress that made your toes curl. "The shy girl act is just a mask for how much of a mess you are underneath."

He finally undid that first button, then the second, exposing the pale skin of your chest to the cool air. His hand slid under the fabric of your dress and just like last night, his calloused palm was cupping you with an agonizingly possessive weight, grinding down, making you shiver and wet.

"I'm going to ruin that innocence, piece by piece," he promised, his teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember how to be shy. You’ll only know how to crave the way I touch you."

You tried to speak, but all that came out was a high, thin moan as his thumb found its mark.

"That’s it," Beckman growled, his grip tightening as he felt you begin to tremble in earnest. "Let the crew hear you if they want. Let them know exactly who is breaking you in. You’re mine, Petal. Every cry, every blush, every drop of sweat. All mine."

His thumb circled your clit rapidly and firmly and you bucked in his grip, back arching and feeling ashamed of the sounds leaving your lips. Beckman on the other hand was savoring each little moan and gasp coming from you as he praised you. He moved harder until you came for the first but definitely not last time that night.

"Very good Petal, this was a small warm up now we're going to move on to the real fun," he growled into your ear.

He pulled you toward the bed. It wasn't a struggle, it was a surrender. He watched every flinch, every gasp and every tear with a terrifyingly sharp intellect, ensuring that your first experience was branded into your mind as an act of total ownership.

The mattress dipped under his weight and for a moment the only sound was the rhythmic creaking of the ship’s hull. He didn’t rush. He watched you closely as you sat on the edge of the bed, your fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of your dress that kept slipping down your shoulders.

"Look at me," he commanded. It wasn't loud, but it pulled your gaze up instantly.

He reached out, his hand engulfing yours, forcing you to go still. "This is the part where you let go of the shame. You think you’re losing something, don't you? That purity you’ve been hoarding like a prize?" He leaned in, his silver hair catching the dim lamplight. "It’s just a weight, Petal. Let me take it from you."

When he began to undo the rest of the buttons of your dress, his movements were surgical and calm. His eyes never left yours, pinning you in place more effectively than his hands ever could. As the cool air hit your skin, you shivered, but he was quick to replace the chill with the heat of his palms.

"So soft," he rasped, his thumb dragging across your collarbone. "I wonder how long it'll take for me to leave my mark on you. To make sure everyone on this ship knows who you belong to without me saying a word."

As the last of your clothing fell away, you instinctively curled inward. Your arms crossed over your chest, knees pressing together, your face burning with a heat so intense it felt like a fever. You had spent your life draped in modest linens and aprons, to be this exposed and under the gaze of a man like Benn Beckman, felt like standing in the middle of a firing line.

"I... I can't," you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny. "Please, turn the lamp off."

A low, rumbling chuckle started deep in his chest. He didn't move to the lamp. Instead, he stood up from the edge of the bed and began to shed his own layers with a casual, terrifying lack of shame. You heard the heavy thud of his boots, the rustle of leather and denim, and then the silence of a man who was perfectly comfortable in his own skin.

"Open your eyes, Petal," he said firmly but you couldn't.

"I said, look," he repeated. It wasn't a shout, but the sheer authority in his voice forced your eyelids to flutter open.

He was standing right in front of you, completely unclad and unbothered. He was a map of a life on the sea, countless scars crisscrossing a frame of hardened muscle, his skin bronzed by years of sea sun and his member bigger than you had imagined, not that you had imagined anything.

Seeing him like that, so raw and powerful, made your breath hitch. He was exactly the man you had always shyly and innocently dreamed about. Your blush deepened, spreading down your neck and across your chest, a vivid pink that stood out against the white sheets.

Beckman grinned, and it wasn't the comfort of a lover, it was the bared teeth of a wolf who had finally cornered his prey and was going to enjoy devouring it.

"There it is," he rasped, his eyes roaming over every inch of your trembling form. "You’re practically glowing. Do you have any idea how adorable you are when you’re this undone? Like a little flower trying to fold its petals back up after the sun’s already caught it."

He reached out, his large, rough hand hooking under your chin to tilt your face up. He forced you to look at him, then down at yourself, and then back at him.

"You're blushing because you're naked," he noted, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "And you're blushing because you're looking at me. You’ve never seen a man like this, have you? Never felt the weight of one?"

"N-no," you gasped, your heart hammering so hard he could likely see it beneath your skin. The sheer size of him was terrifying, but the way he looked at you, with a hunger that was both primal and deeply calculated, made a traitorous heat bloom in your chest.

"Good." His grin widened, dark and possessive. "I want you to stay exactly this red. I want you to feel every bit of this shame, because by the time I’m done, the only thing you’ll be embarrassed about is how much you’re begging me not to stop."

He leaned down, his heat enveloping you as he crowded you back into the pillows. "Don't hide. I want to see everything I’m about to ruin."

He kissed a path from your neck over your collarbone and stopped at your breasts licking over one of your nipples and you whimpered and closed your eyes again the sensation just too overwhelming.

"Don't close your eyes," he whispered as he leaned up and kissed your lips, his voice a low, vibrating growl. "I want you to see exactly who is doing this to you. I want you to remember the weight of me when you're dreaming and the feel of me when you're awake."

Beckman moved with a slow, agonizing deliberation, ensuring that every second of your shyness was exploited.

He pinned your wrists above your head with just one of his hands, his grip like iron manacles. It wasn't to hurt you, but to keep you from hiding, forcing your body to remain open and vulnerable beneath him. The contrast was startling, your soft skin against his scarred, calloused palms.

"Still trying to shrink away?" he murmured, his voice vibrating against the sensitive skin of your neck. He nipped at the junction where your shoulder met your throat, a sharp sting that made your toes curl. "You’re too soft for this world, Petal. You need to be hardened. You need to learn how to take what I give you."

He reached down to trace a finger over your wet slit moving it up and down looking down at you. "So wet for me, pretty little Petal" he mused as he pushed his fingers slightly between your labia and to your entrance and your back arched and your breathing became ragged.

"Beckman please—" you whimpered and he just leaned down till his breath burnt against your ear.

"Patience Petal just making sure I'm not hurting you" he whispered and pushed a finger inside you making you gasp at the stretch before he added a second and you tensed closing your eyes slightly while your heart rate was going up.

"Just breath Petal, you're going to love this, you're going to drop that shy act of yours and you're gonna show me what a bad girl you can be" he purred as he moved and scissored his fingers till he deemed you prepared enough.

He looked at his fingers and shoved them between your lips making you taste the wetness before you felt him nudge your entrance and then finally moved to bridge the final gap between you, the air in your lungs seemingly vanishing. It was an overwhelming invasion of space and spirit. You let out a sharp, broken sound that was something between a sob and a gasp as the reality of him hit you.

"Shhh," he hushed you, though his eyes were bright with a dark, triumphant heat. He didn't pull back. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead rested against yours, forcing you to look into the depths of his eyes. "Stay with me. Don't go back to that flower shop in your head. Stay right here, in this bed, feeling exactly what I’m doing to you."

He began to move, a slow and steady rhythm that felt like the tide, inevitable and powerful. Every time your eyes tried to roll back or close, he would growl a command for you to look at him. He wanted to see the moment your shyness broke, he wanted to witness the exact second your innocence turned into a desperate, clutching need.

He whispered dark, possessive things into your ear, praising the way your body was starting to react despite your mind’s protests.

"That's it," he rasped, his voice thick with his own rising heat. "Forget about being good. Forget about being pure. You're mine now. Every gasp, every tear, it's all for me. Tell me. Tell me you belong to me."

"I... I'm yours," you choked out, the words feeling like a seal on a contract you could never break. He groaned clearly satisfied with your words and picking up the pace, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room louder and louder as you felt yourself nearing a heavy orgasm.

Your fingers, finally freed from his grip, didn't try to hide yourself anymore. Instead, they scratched desperately at the corded muscle of his back, anchoring yourself to the man who was systematically dismantling the girl you used to be.

"Beck — haaa — I —" you stammered not able to finish the sentence as you felt him hit just the right spots and as one hand tightened it's grip almost painfully on your hips the other pinched and rolled your nipple and it was the final movement that shattered you and you came hard and loudly, almost sounding obscene and definitely not like the shy girl anymore.

Beckman though didn't let up. He watched your face go through the transition from shock to a blurry, tear-streaked pleasure that you didn't know how to handle as he rode his own orgasm out till his hot seed filled you.

When it was over, he didn't move away. He stayed heavy on top of you, his heart thudding against your chest like a war drum. He reached up, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with a calloused thumb, his expression one of absolute, terrifying satisfaction. He had successfully taught you that pain and pleasure, fear and safety, all began and ended with him.

"There," he breathed, a ghost of that wolfish grin returning. "The florist is gone. Now we can really begin."

The cabin was silent save for your ragged breathing and the distant creaking of the ship’s timber. You lay there, trembling and flushed, trying to pull the tangled sheets over your chest to regain some semblance of the girl you had been an hour ago.

But Beckman wasn’t finished. He sat back on his heels, watching your frantic movements with a look of cold amusement. He reached out and snatched the edge of the sheet, yanking it down to your waist with one effortless tug.

"Don't cover up now, Petal. We're past the point of modesty," he rumbled. He leaned over you, his shadow swallowing you whole. "You’re shaking. Is it because you’re scared, or because you’ve never felt anything that good in that dusty little shop of yours?"

"I... I don't know," you whispered, turning your face into the pillow to hide the tearful heat of your blush.

"Liar," he countered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, silken register. "You liked it. You liked the way I ruined that pure little image you had of yourself. Admit it."

"N-no... I couldn't," you stammered, your throat tight with a mix of shame and lingering pleasure.

Beckman’s eyes darkened. He liked the resistance; it gave him an excuse to be thorough. "Still too shy to be honest? Fine. I’ll help you find your voice."

Before you could protest, he moved. He slid down the bed, his large hands gripping your hips to hold you firmly in place. When you realized what he intended, your breath hitched in a panicked gasp.

"Beckman, please—"

"Quiet," he commanded.

He was a man of immense patience and terrifying precision. And as he began spreading your legs and holding them like that you whimpered. The moment his tongue made contact with your pussy to explore the most sensitive parts of you, he did so with the same calculated intent he used to win battles at sea. He was teasing the truth out of you, stroke by agonizing stroke or lick by lick.

The sensation was overwhelming, a sharp, wet contrast to the rough heat of before. Your back arched off the mattress, your fingers knotting into the silk sheets as a fresh wave of heat crashed over you. Every time you tried to close your legs or hide, his hands tightened on your thighs like iron bands, pinning you open for his inspection.

"Say it," he murmured against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers through your entire frame. He moved back up, hovering just inches from your center, making you ache for the contact he was now withholding. "Tell me you liked how I broke you. Tell me you want me to make you cum again."

"I... I did," you sobbed, the last of your shy walls crumbling. The shame was still there, but it was being drowned out by a desperate, newly awakened hunger. "I liked it. Please... Beckman... I liked the ruining."

He looked up at you then, a look of pure, predatory triumph on his face. He reached up, pushing his fingers into your mouth making you suck them as he kept lapping at your clit till you came all over his tongue.

"That's my girl," he rasped, his voice full of a dark, possessive pride. "See? Honesty suits you much better than that shy act. Now, since you liked it so much, let’s see how much more you can take before the sun comes up."

He had officially turned your own body against your conscience. You weren't just his captive anymore, you were his through and through craving him, his touch, how he unraveled you and the look in Beckman’s eyes told you he would never, ever let you go.

Taglist: @jintaka-hane @fleetadmiralsoffice @hakiofdreams @welcome-to-the-grandline @sailing-to-laugh-tale @legends-of-the-grandline @devilfruitdiaries @waannty @luna-the-moon-guardian @sweetsaltygingerbitch (once again I'm just reminding you that if you want me to stop tagging you please tell me or if someone wants to get added)

[missbeckman]

you turn

[missbeckman]

I actually pictured Peter Hegseth could be a real life Benn Beckman—the eyes, the chin...

Created with Grok.

[missbeckman]

Dear Beckman ladies: our gentlemen is back.

[crossingthedreams]

deadly (shanks x f!reader)

warnings: wife!reader, established relationship, smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, degradation, anal play, anal sex with no lube and no protection lol, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, spitting, anal creampie, exhibitionism, voyeurism, benn beckman’s special apparence, not really a threesome but kinda, no use of y/n, some feels. mdni.

summary: your husband got you really annoyed. there are about one thousand ways to get back at him, and yet, you choose the deadliest.

a/n: i’m obsessed with one piece and this is pure filth. proceed at your own risk :)

word count: 5470 

masterlist

“Is this seat taken?”

Your question came like a purr, a woman on a mission. The man sitting in turned his head, eyeing you up and down. Maroon dress going down your thighs and hugging every curve, hair half up half down, but still showing your neck. Deadly. 

He blew out some smoke, cigarette between his fingers. “Beck”, was his only response, eyes now searching the room for his first mate. You let out a hm and sat there anyway.

You adjusted the skirt of your dress, slit showing the skin of your thigh. His eyes travelled from your legs to the cleavage, no emotion visible. 

A dangerous game. One you were thrilled to play. 

You had been getting on his nerves lately. Not that it was an easy deed, no. Far from it. In all his life, perhaps the man had let himself get worked up once or twice (when not at a literal war). 

Still, you managed to act up enough to make him nervous. By the way his jaw clenched when you sat down, you knew you were winning a game he didn’t even sign up for playing. 

You took a cigarette out of your cleavage, and from the side you saw his eyes follow the motion. It took an enormous amount of willpower not to smile. “Light me up?”, you asked, having purposely forgotten your lighter.

He did in a swift motion. Ever the lighthearted fun in gatherings like this. 

The deck came alive with the party. Fairy-lights hung from the masts, and tables and chairs were splayed out whilst the crew drank and ate and then drank some more. There was a calm breeze causing the slightest chills, and for a second you wondered if the silk dress was a bad idea. 

That thought quickly dissolved when Benn Beckman approached you and the first thing he did was eye your sitting figure. You’d always found him charming, annoyingly so. And you knew he found you attractive as well. 

The gears were turning in your head as a grin spread through your face. 

“Benn!”, you lifted, hugging the man who held far too many drinks to be able to hold you. “Please, sit. I took your place for only a second”, you continued, signaling the chair next to the Captain. 

By now, your cigarette had gone out. But you hadn’t. 

As Beckman sat, you looked around, not finding anywhere else to sit. Good. 

“Benn, darling, do you mind if we share?”, you pointed to his lap, quite straightforward. The man was not easily ashamed, so he just eyed you, his lap and then the man by his side who seemed detached from this whole interaction. 

Beck just nodded, huffing. Hot. 

You sat. 

Right on his thigh.

Thank Heavens everyone else was drunk off their minds to realize what was happening between the Captain, his first mate and his girl. 

Beckman’s arm circled your waist to prevent you from falling and you smiled, delighted. However, there was no reaction coming from the one you wanted to react. 

You’d gladly take this up a notch. 

“These past few days have been quite hot, haven’t they?”, you inquired, taking a drink from the table in front of you. You didn’t need the liquid courage, no. It was just for fun.

“They have”, Benn stoically replied, amused and suspicious at your every word.  

“Kinda makes one want to jump butt naked in the ocean…”, you turned your body to see Beckam better. You knew just how evident your breasts were in this dress, especially in this position. “...doesn’t it?”

Before you could even react, you felt a hand on your arm lifting you and dragging you way. You giggled all throughout the path to the empty corridor that led to some of the crew’s chambers and the Captain’s office.

“What’s gotten into you?”.

“Me?”, you pointed to yourself, feigning innocence. His arm was still holding you tightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you hold still. “I’m just having fun, boss”.

“I think you’re trying to prove a point, all bratty and in this slutty dress”, he replied. 

You shook his hand off of you. The tension was tangible, and you wanted him to feel it too. After all, you were simply playing with the cards you were given. The cards he gave you.

Defiance coursed in your veins. You lifted your chin and adjusted your posture, trying to be as confident as ever while talking to the man many years your senior and many centimeters taller. The music still played from afar, party as alive as it was before you arrived. 

“The point being?”, you questioned him, trying to make him say the words. He scuffed, taking a step back. Running from personal conflict — the only thing he ever ran from. Oh, no. Not on your watch. “You won’t run away from this”, you stated, holding his shirt so he wouldn’t go further, “Not when you vowed to stay”.

“And you vowed to be mine!”. So he was jealous. A smirk creeped into your face. “Why are you smiling like a psychopath?”, he then asked, not angry at all, but still wary.

“Because”, you simply put, shrugging and letting go of his shirt. “I didn’t think you’d care about sharing your property with your first mate of all people”.

You spit out your words as if they were venom. 

He sighed. Both of you knew this was where this conversation was going.

“I never meant to be offensive or sound as if I want to take away your freedom. The way I expressed myself was not the best”, you let out a sarcastic snort at his words, as he tried to defend himself “But it got on my nerves to hear those snarky comments about my wife”.

“I’m not a thing you can hide in a treasure, Shanks”, you said, guard down for once. You didn’t feel defeated, just… tired. You missed him just as he missed you, but there was too much pride involved.

“I know”, he interrupted you. “I know, I promise. I will never speak so thoughtlessly again”.

You nodded. You sure put him through hell this past week, since the meeting he had with some fellow pirates in which he declared you were “his propriety” and therefore were not an object of speculation amongst the men. You were lurking and overheard it, so you confronted him afterwards, to which his reaction was to brush it off and go out to drink with his mates, in his classic avoidant style. 

You weren’t sure if it was the quote itself or the avoidance afterwards that pissed you. 

Probably both.

Then, you began a slow punishment to get him to admit what he did and ask for your forgiveness. It was the least you deserved. From flirting with the crew and the villagers on the small island the Red Force was docked to childishly ignoring him when he called your name, you’d made sure this week would be tough on him. Turns out it was tough on you too.  

“The thought of losing you terrifies me every day, every night”, he admitted, heart on his sleeve. This man, this Emperor, a living legend. Your husband. Afraid of something so certain and unquestionable as death, making foolish choices to justify problematic behaviour. 

It hadn’t been long since you wed the nobleman turned pirate. And, although you understood, you sure as hell wouldn’t allow this sort of behaviour in your home. 

“Do you think I do not feel the same?”.

“I know you do, but it’s different. These men will get to you to hurt me. Don’t think I don’t regret the fact that I put you in harm's way simply by loving you”.

You knew what he meant. A smile formed in your face, and you got closer to him, teasingly. “You love me, huh?”

It was his turn to smile, perhaps for the first time in the week. “Sure, dumbass”, he replied, hand coming to your waist. “I married you”. 

Your sincere smile was complimented by a nod. “I chose this, Shanks. I chose you”, you stated, “Don’t try to make this so you’re the one who’s guilty. I want you”. 

A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders at your words. His expression lightened, and the world seemed to be a little more well adjusted. Not in place precisely — would it ever be? —, but a little more right.

Of course, Shanks had to ruin the mood.

“You’re sure you don’t want Benn?”. This man and his ironic responses. You hit his chest playfully. You murmured a shut up before he continued teasing, “You sure seemed comfortable by his side… Or rather, on him”.

The push and pull with Shanks was always fun, but this was even more as he led you into the nearest room, which happened to be his office — a place he avoided, much more preferring to perform his captain duties from the deck, amidst his crew. It’s one of the things you loved dearly about him, how he could turn a dull activity into a fun moment. 

The lights were off, but the glow from the moon and night sky illuminated the pathway to his desk. He lifted you with ease, sitting you and walking between your legs. 

“I mean, I’m well aware girls go crazy for Benn…”, his hand on your leg, and his lips casually approaching yours, only to descend and kiss your neck instead, “...but I didn’t think my girl was one of them”.

You let your head fall back, enjoying the feeling of Shanks’ lips on you. The man was already experienced when you met him, able to turn you into a puddle in minutes, but after some time, as he got to know you and your body, he could make a mess just by kissing that one particular place on your neck. 

You felt his hand travel up and down your thighs, toying with the hem of the dress you so consciously wore. 

“Was your intention in wearing this to make every man insane? Or just me?”, his question was meant to entice you, yes, but also because he needed to hear you say, in some way, that you wanted this. 

“I don’t mind them seeing what their Captain gets every night”, you replied, cheeky. 

“Not every night,” he teased, “sometimes you’re mad”.

You pushed him away playfully again, and he caught both your hands in his larger one. His eyes had a rare kind of focus, predatorial, when he pulled you to him. Your breath and his mixed as one.

He was so close. There wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t sing for him, your entire body pulling towards him like a magnet. 

When his gaze dropped to your mouth, the anticipation had your heart beating faster. If you moved half a centimeter, your lips would connect. But no. It was his turn to provoke you, he called the shots. 

“Say you’re mine”.

“I’m yours”, you answered without hesitation. “Not your property, not a treasure. I’m your wife, your partner”, you moved so your nose would touch his, “And I love you”.

That broke him.

He finally joined your lips in a hungry kiss, in a way that had your legs trembling. Usually, the two of you would be more playful, even if still kinky. But this? This was a desperate man in front of you, desperate to convey his feelings in a single action, desperate for you.

There were no words for the feeling that sparked in you.

As you kissed, he lifted your dress up, only to find no undergarments beneath it. He lifted a brow as he separated the kiss, amused. “Is this all for me?”, he asked, using his finger to spread your lips and reveal your wetness to him. You nodded yes, moaning, desperate for more. “Say it”, he commanded again.

“All for you”, you obeyed. 

He turned you around easily, your feet falling to the floor and your bare ass at full display. The manhandling of it was enough to have you clenching around nothing. 

You looked over your shoulder towards him. He was already undoing his belt, his impressive cock slapping against his stomach. It wasn’t all about the size, but the thickness that had your mouth watering. You hoped he would let you suck him off later. Right now, you both just needed to be united — more than you needed air. 

He touched your back and pushed you down on the desk, using his foot to make you spread your legs more. His hands moved to your hair, holding it in a makeshift pony tail as he lined himself at your entrance. 

Neither you nor him needed any preparation. You just needed this. 

Your body was flush against the wooden desk, hands holding the border for dear life as Shanks’ pushed himself deep. Your cheek was on the surface, and you tried looking at him behind you with no success as he still held your hair. Your mouth fell open, and no sound came out. It hurt a little, but the pain was good. Delicious, even. 

Before you had time to respond, he pulled out and slammed himself in you again, forcing your tight little cunt open. His hand came up to your hair, and he pulled on your faux ponytail to arch your back even more. 

His intrusion was welcomed by your body. Even with no preparation and his thick cock ravishing you, your body reacted to him like coming home. 

You knew you were very wet, the squelches of your pussy and the ease in which he entered you were proof.

He began a punishing pace, deep and hard, the tip of his dick deeper than ever. You wiggled your hips a little, trying to make yourself more comfortable, but that was a mistake. He let go of your hair and slapped your face, the half that was facing him.

“Stay still”, was his only command as his hand began lifting your dress even higher on your waist.

The whole scenario was filthy. The sound of your bodies, skin on skin, and the moans you couldn’t hold in. Your body sang for him, a chanty of the seas if there ever was one.

In this position, you couldn’t play with your clit, and Shanks wouldn’t either. His hand was only for balance and for making your body more receiving — regardless if it was adjusting your dress, your hair or hitting you when he thought you were too loud. 

When you let out a little moan from the immense pleasure, you knew you were getting some sort of punishment. What you didn’t expect was his hand in a fist hitting your ass check. You screamed from the pain and pleasure. The ache would last for days, and so would the bruise, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Quiet”, he instructed, still fucking you like there was no tomorrow. Lighthearted as Shanks might be, you knew he fucked with deadly precision nonetheless. Especially in situations like this. “Or do you want someone to hear, huh? I’m sure you do, you little slut, hm? Want to be a filthy little whore and make a spectacle for everyone to hear? Maybe I can invite some of them in, let them see how I break ya”.

The dirty talk caused the growing knot in your stomach to tighten. 

“Answer me, little dove. Do you want to star in a little show, hm?”, he passed his arm around your stomach, lifting you up so you were both standing. His lips were glued to your ears when he said, “Want them to know who owns you?”, he punctuated the words ‘owns’, a reflection of your previous conversation. 

You might not be property, but who were you kidding? You were more than happy to be his little slut. 

You turned, trying to kiss him and failing. He wanted you to respond, so he was getting an answer. He slowed down his thrusts, kissing your shoulders. 

He asked you two times. There would not be a third. 

“I just want you”, was a safe answer, and also true. “Please, please, please”, you alternated the words with moans.

“Please what?”, his hand came to your chin, turning your head to him. Your lips were close again, and you wanted nothing more than to join them, to feel him. He began to fasten and deepen his pace once more, going so deep as to hit your cervix. Right where you wanted him. 

You whimpered at the feeling. “Please, just fuck me, in any way, just don’t stop, please, please”, your tone was needy, just like you felt. You needed him. 

And stop he didn’t. Thank Heavens.

He pushed you down on the desk again, with enough force to make a loud thud and send papers to the ground. You cried out, trying not to be loud. 

“Captain, is everything alright?”

Damned Shanks and his open (or unlocked) door policy. 

The silence that followed the door being opened was deadly. The deadliest and loudest silence of all times. 

Benn Beckman was standing on the doorway, hand still in the handle. He looked at his Captain first, then you. 

To his defense, Shanks never stopped fucking you. He slowed down, but didn’t even falter when you squirmed beneath him. His hand held your head in place, far too conscious of the fact that, if you wanted to stop, you’d say so.

The dress covered your body, but the position was still far too exposing for comfort. You tried to move your head, but couldn’t, so you were left making eye contact with Benn. A very still, very quiet Benn. 

“Beck”, Shanks greeted, his voice almost as cheery as usual. “Come in, sit”. 

“Boss…”, the other man began, eyes slightly wide, but was cut off. 

“‘was just saying how much we’d enjoy an audience”, Shanks’ one hand presented the chair in front of his desk. “You’re free to go, of course, but we’d loooove your company, right, honey?”

He thrusted especially deep at the honey, causing you to whimper and hide your face. “I said”, he supported himself on your shoulder, marking every word with a hard, deep movement, “right, honey?”

You nodded desperately, lost in pleasure. Your eyes found Benn’s again. “Please, stay”, you said, like the good wife of an Emperor. Was good a synonym for slutty? You didn’t know and, honestly, you didn’t care.

Benn had no reaction for a second. Then, he walked in and closed the door, taking two long steps to the chair and sitting, making himself comfortable as if it was a regular, ordinary business meeting. 

But there was nothing ordinary about the way Shanks was fucking you. 

Your lover pulled you up again, kissing your ear sweetly, in a total contradiction with how roughly his hips collided against yours. Your front was exposed to Benn, who still sat and watched as if it was just a regular scene.

The events of tonight made the whole exhibitionist part of you two pop up. Before, you had talked about this before, about having an audience, but you never thought it would really happen. Or, if it would, it would be Mihawk. You were thrilled, and, from the excitement in which Shanks was fucking you, you could tell he was too — thrusting even harder, even deeper now.

With his lips on your cheek, he then destroyed your beautiful dress with only one hand, ripping it on your chest to reveal your breasts. You exclaimed in protest for a second, before he tore down the rips of fabric and moved his hand south, finally using his digits to stimulate your clit. You almost screamed in pleasure, throwing your head back on his chest.

“I’ll buy you another one”, he whispered in the shell of your ear. You opened your eyes and tried to turn to him, to see the face of the man you loved so dearly. Instead, his hand came up to your chin, making you face Beckman, who sat stoically in front of you. “In every color”, he punctuated his words by pulling out and pushing himself in you. “I don’t really think this is the right color for you, y’know?”, he still had a piece of the maroon fabric in his hand, which he threw across the office. “What do you think, Benn? Is this her color?”

Neither you nor Beckman expected a direct question. A direct order from the Captain: answer. 

As Shanks kept fucking you, you saw Benn’s eyes travel your now exposed body, stopping on your cunt where your Captain’s fat cock kept disappering into. The man gulped. You had never seen so flustered, and yet he barely showed any reaction. 

From behind you, with his nose against your neck, you felt Shanks smile.

“No, boss”, Benn said, leaning back on the chair, manspreading. Your eyes were immediately attracted to his bulge. “I like her in black”.

The confession was simple, but it made your walls tighten around Shanks. 

“You like that, huh?”, he murmured in your ear, feeling you get tighter and more disheveled. “Bend over”, he commanded, leaving no space for disobedience.

You leaned down on the desk, ass perking up, elbows supporting yourself and eyes on Benn, now that you were closer than ever. You could imagine this situation if there was no desk separating you — Shanks behind you, your face on Benn’s thighs, so close to his… 

Your thoughts were violently interrupted by your man slapping your ass, your eyes closing with the sting, deliciously so. 

“I think my pretty girl would love to wear a cute little dress for ya, mate”, Shanks’ voice was back to normal, even though he kept the pace and you kept clenching around his length. “I think she would also love…”, you feared when he stopped, and your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest. Benn’s gaze was divided between you and his Captain. You felt something wet travelling down your back, and Benn’s eyes widened. “...to have us both at once. Don’t you, Benn?”.

Shanks’ hand moved around your ass cheek, caressing it. You finally understood what that strange wetness was as your lover used one finger to collect it and push it into your tight asshole. You moaned in bliss. 

Benn looked both horny and worried. Sure, the whole crew knew you and Shanks were freaky. They’d heard you from the walls, they’d seen you walk weird some days. Every now and then, when you sat on the Captain’s leg in a party or random night out, it was clear how infatuated with each other you were. Still, it was different to witness it in person.

With little lubrification, it was a harder intrusion. But you’d done this before, and Shanks knew your body like the palm of his hand. He trusted you to tell him if it was too much, and you trusted him to stop the second you said so. 

He pushed a finger in, circling it while he kept destroying your tight pussy. His eyes met Benn’s with a dangerous grin, a man possessed. 

“I’m pretty sure Beck would love to take you here while I fuck, wouldn’t you, mate?”, his question caught both you and Benn by surprise. He couldn’t be serious, yet, he was. “Isn’t my girl the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Benn Beckman was a reasonable man. A womanizer, yes, but a reasonable one. Never in his wildest dreams did he think his Captain’s girl would be attainable, and he wouldn’t say no to an opportunity like this, not when your red face and cute moans were being handed to him on a silver platter by none other than the red-haired himself. Even if it was just to watch.

It was dangerous, it was fun, and it was unbelievably hot.  

“She is gorgeous”, was his response, every word sharply punctuated, his eyes on you as your mouth fell agape. The intensity you were being fucked made it hard to think, especially when Shanks inserted a second finger on your tight ring of muscle. 

You felt your cunt pulsing, your legs trembling and sweat coming down your face more and more every second. The desk was shaking with each thrust, the noise of things falling and the Captain’s body slamming against your own filling the room. 

Usually, Shanks wasn’t this rough. Usually, he had a much more lighthearted and fun approach to sex. But this wasn't just sex, no. This was punishment. This was a claim. His claim on you, as territorial as a man anointed as Emperor could get.

You felt him spitting on you once more, the saliva falling right on his fingers. 

“Gonna fill you up sooo nice, love”, he murmured, extending the syllables. You were sure Benn was dying a little watching this all go by, particularly due to all the Captain’s teasing. 

Then, without any warning, Shanks’ dick left your pussy and lined up at your ass.

You gasped for air, not expecting him to be so hasty about it. His hand caressed your back, in a silent reminder that he was there with you and you could stop at any time. The simple action made you relax completely, surrendering yourself at his mercy. 

You looked at Benn through half lidded eyes and smiled.

You swore you could hear his heart stop beating. 

He entered you agonizingly slowly, hurting just the right amount to make your eyes roll and your pussy clench around nothing, wetness pooling down your thighs. 

Whimpers and moans left your mouth before you even knew it, and you shut your eyes close, focusing only on the intrusion. When you opened them, you saw Benn’s hand pressing his hard on, not wanting to do something that would end this but desperately needing to. 

“Slow, please, please”, you moaned, and the Captain complied.

Still, Shanks bottomed out after a few moments and more saliva. You had no idea you could be this relaxed in face of such roughness. The truth was you were immensely turned on, beyond all reasonability. 

When your Captain lowered his body, chest against your back and arm circling you to press his fingers on your clit, you were sure you would die. And Benn, too. Who would go first, you weren’t sure. 

Shanks moaned close to your ear, facing Benn. “The both of you would like it if it was his dick here as well, huh? At least he can watch”, he teased. 

You were about to respond when he moved his hips, gently thrusting, at the same time his fingers moved against your clit. 

“What my girl wants, my girl gets”.

It was too much, too much, too much…

You exploded. The built up tension imploded within you as your orgasm made your muscles contract and you screamed. There was no explanation to this feeling, no words. You had become a mess of incoherent thoughts and loud moans. Your body was shaking violently, almost to the point of Shanks stopping his ministrations on your clit just to hold you. 

Everything was sensitive. Every inch of your body was on fire. You didn’t know if Shanks was still moving inside your ass, or if Beck was still watching. You focused only on the inexplicable pleasure flooding in your veins. 

Your breath was caught in your throat, almost a cry, when you finally began to come down from your high. Maybe it had been years, you couldn’t tell and didn’t care — you had your man safely guarding you as your body and mind experienced pleasure beyond belief. You felt Shanks still inside you, but unmoving. In front of you, Beck was sitting quietly, mesmerized. You were sure you looked absolutely railed, thoroughly fucked out. 

You smiled and let out a small laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

What a mistake.

“Is something funny, honey?”, Shanks asked, moving once more. You had forgotten how intense it was to be in this position with him. Your laugh died down and gave way to a strangled moan. 

It wasn’t quite the same as when he fucked your pussy. He was more controlled, even if still punishing, and it all felt much more dirty. 

All those sensations were amplified in Benn’s presence. 

“You’re all mine”, he said, hips in an obscene, fast, deep movement. The thrusts were sloppier as he got more and more in his head, focusing on his own high. Good, you thought. He needed to let go too. “Mine to use…”, and then he lifted his hands, making a come-and-get-it motion to Beckman, who watched it all completely lost in the moment, “...and mine to share”.

As Benn stood up right in front of you, your eyes leveled with his pelvis, Shanks pulled your hair so you could look at the other man in the eyes. 

“Spit”, was the Captain’s instruction. You didn’t know how you were still surprised at this man’s dirtiness. Benn didn’t quite understand for a second, because, after all, you were still being hardly fucked by your man. “Spit”, Shanks ordered once more.

When you opened your mouth and put your tongue out, amusement and defiance glistening in your eyes, all doubt flew out the window. 

Benn leaned down and held your head with both hands, tenderly. It almost felt innocent for a second. That was only for a second though, because the man let his saliva fall into your mouth, corrupting you and making your entire body chill with pleasure. 

Possessively, Shanks pulled you up, holding one of your breasts in his hand and moaning in your ear. “Taking it so good, baby”, he muttered. Although this angle made it difficult for the both of you, the situation was so stimulating, so insanely hot, that it didn’t take much effort to enjoy it. “Ask for it”, he commanded and you knew what he meant.

Your cheeks were flushing red, but you felt braver than you did ashamed. “Please, cum in me, my love, please”, your words, more like moans, shot right out, not a single coherent thought coming out of your brain. You half whispered, half moaned as your hands traveled up to his hair behind you. Your eyes were locked with Benn’s as Shanks kept slamming himself in you. “Please, come in my ass, give it to me, please, I want it so bad”, each word made the man squeeze you tighter, and his friend’s careful gaze was still upon you. “Show him I’m yours”.

That was your man’s breaking point. 

He moaned deeply as he came in you, white stripes within your ass. His hand was gripping your hair tightly, and, although this position was anything but comfortable, you felt a satisfaction more intense than any other. 

With a sharp motion, Shanks made you lean down again as he pulled out, and then slapped your ass hard. 

“Unbelievable”, he murmured, adjusting himself back in his pants. Benn’s eyes went from your bare body, ass perking up, to his now fully clothed Captain. 

Well, that just happened. 

You were still in a haze of orgasm bliss and a bratty attitude. “Enjoyed the show?”, you asked Benn as Shanks took off his cape and threw it on your back, covering your naked figure. 

Benn Beckman was not an easy man to fluster, and yet, there he was. There you three were. 

“That’ll be all, mate”, Shanks said with a smile. 

You contorted your body into the Captain’s chair as both men, standing up, shoulders back, looked at it each with a sense of shared secret and camaraderie. 

Even if this situation was abnormal and there was a silent agreement to not talk about it unless spoken to by the Captain, it was still carefree and, above all, it was good for all those involved.

As Benn left and closed the door behind him, your man’s gaze fell on you. 

He practically flew down on you and you let out an amused scream, giggling. His lips left little kisses on your neck, shoulders, legs. 

“Thank you for being so amazing”, he whispered in your ear. 

“Thank you for fucking me so good”, you replied, getting a chuckle out of him. “I’m still not propriety, but, God, it’s so hot when you call me ‘mine’”. 

“Yeah, you are mine. My wife”, he kissed your cheek, “my love,”, a kiss to your ear, “and my dirty little cockslut”, a deep kiss to your lips amidst both your laughs. “Just know, you’re not off the hook for all the attitude, missy”, was his final comment before standing up and adjusting his clothes.

“I should hope not”, you replied, grinning from where you sat, fingers intertwined.

Deadly. 

[icy-spicy]

Plagued by thoughts of mean Benn Beckman.

Dry humping that beast built man! Him sitting there with one hand behind his head and the other pulling his cig from his lips so he can exhale smoke directly into your face. Being desperate, panting, moaning, and damn near crying while rutting against him. As uninterested as he may act, he’s hard beneath you. That damn grin on his face when he notices just how erratic your movements have gotten with your release a fingertip’s distance away. You can almost taste it! The broken sob tearing from your throat when his big hand comes from behind his head and grips your hip tight enough to stop your movements. The salty tears running down your face as you beat against his broad chest in defeat.

“That ain’t nice, Sugar,” he teases, “I told Shanks he lets you get away with too much. Say you’re sorry.”

Meeting his eyes with a challenge in your own. Him frowning before bringing his cigarette back to his lips so he can free up his other hand. Said hand bunching up your underwear in the most delectable way. The pressure is heart stopping, and you find yourself breaking.

“Say it.”

“I’m sorry, Beck!”

“That’s more like it.”

His hand on your hip guides your movements back and forth over his rough cargo pants. It’s not long before you are once again shaking in anticipation of the possibility of achieving that sacred bliss he has been withholding for the last hour. Afraid and needy, you immediately beg him to let you have the one thing you need.

“Please please please please please!”

“I aim to, Darlin’”

Your vision flashes white as the heat pools in your stomach, and right before you grasp your please he rips it away once more. Your scream of horror is music to his ears when you collapse against him sobbing in anguish.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

GIVE HIM TO ME NOW!!!!!!!

[swevenlior]

Make Love With Beckman

The dim light of the ship's cabin flickers from a single lantern as Ben Beckman pins you against the wooden wall, his massive frame dominating yours after a week apart that felt like an eternity.

His cock is already thrusting deep into your pussy with rough, powerful strokes, each one slamming home and making your body jolt despite your effort to hold still.

The separation has made him feral, but his eyes lock onto yours with that intense intimacy, his breath hot against your neck.

“Missed this tight little pussy wrapping around me,” he growls low, voice gravelly as he pulls back almost out before driving in again, the head of his thick shaft grinding against your inner walls.

“You stayed strong without me, didn't you? Kept that composure I love.”

You nod, biting your lip to stay steady, hands flat against the wall behind you, refusing to clutch at him even as pleasure sparks through your core.

His hips snap forward relentlessly, cock stretching you wide with every plunge, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the small space.

“That's my girl,” Ben murmurs, one large hand gripping your thigh to hitch your leg higher around his waist, allowing him to angle deeper.

“Tell me how it feels having me back inside you after all that time. Don't move - just take it.”

His free hand braces beside your head, muscles flexing as he pounds into you, rough but controlled, like he's reclaiming every inch of you.

“It feels... overwhelming,” you breathe out evenly, voice steady despite the fire building low in your belly, your pussy clenching around his invading cock.

“Your cock fills me so completely, Ben. I've needed this.” He chuckles darkly, thrusting harder, the force pressing your back firmer against the wall, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal drive.

“Good. I want you feeling every bit of what you do to me. That week without you? Drove me insane thinking about burying myself here.”

His pace quickens, cock pistoning in and out, slick with your arousal, the friction sending jolts of ecstasy up your spine.

You hold your position, composed, letting him use you as he talks, his words weaving through the haze of sensation.

“Look at you, staying so still for me,” he praises, leaning in to nip at your earlobe, his breath ragged now as sweat beads on his brow.

“Pussy's soaking me, though - gripping like you never want me to leave again.”

He shifts, one hand sliding down to roughly pinch your clit between his fingers, rolling it as he fucks you without mercy, the dual assault making stars burst behind your eyes.

You gasp but keep your body rigid, thighs trembling only slightly, drawing a satisfied grunt from him.

“Come on, say it - tell me you're mine.” His thrusts grow erratic, cock swelling thicker inside you, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.

“I'm yours, Ben,”you reply calmly, even as your walls flutter around him, the pressure coiling tight.

“All yours. Don't stop.” He groans, slamming in deeper, his hand working your clit faster, rough circles that push you toward the edge.

“Fuck, that's right. Now cum for me - let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

The command tips you over; your orgasm crashes through you, pussy spasming hard around him, but you stay composed, a soft moan escaping as waves of bliss pulse from your core, soaking his shaft.

He follows with a guttural curse, burying himself to the hilt and flooding your depths with hot cum, ropes of it spilling deep as his body shudders against yours.

Ben holds you there a moment longer, cock twitching inside your pulsing pussy, before easing out slowly, a mix of your releases trickling down your thigh.

He scoops you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bunk and laying you down gently on the rumpled sheets.

“Easy now,”he murmurs, voice softening as he grabs a cloth from the basin, dipping it in warm water.

He cleans you tenderly, wiping between your legs with careful strokes, his touch a stark contrast to the roughness before.

“You were perfect - held it together like always. Makes me want you even more.” He dries you off, then pulls you into his chest, wrapping strong arms around you, one hand stroking your hair in slow, soothing motions.

“Week was too long,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple, his heartbeat steady under your ear. “But being back here with you? Worth every damn second.”

You nestle closer, his warmth enveloping you, and he hums contentedly, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back until sleep tugs at you both, wrapped in each other's embrace.

[icy-spicy]

Plagued by thoughts of mean Benn Beckman.

Dry humping that beast built man! Him sitting there with one hand behind his head and the other pulling his cig from his lips so he can exhale smoke directly into your face. Being desperate, panting, moaning, and damn near crying while rutting against him. As uninterested as he may act, he’s hard beneath you. That damn grin on his face when he notices just how erratic your movements have gotten with your release a fingertip’s distance away. You can almost taste it! The broken sob tearing from your throat when his big hand comes from behind his head and grips your hip tight enough to stop your movements. The salty tears running down your face as you beat against his broad chest in defeat.

“That ain’t nice, Sugar,” he teases, “I told Shanks he lets you get away with too much. Say you’re sorry.”

Meeting his eyes with a challenge in your own. Him frowning before bringing his cigarette back to his lips so he can free up his other hand. Said hand bunching up your underwear in the most delectable way. The pressure is heart stopping, and you find yourself breaking.

“Say it.”

“I’m sorry, Beck!”

“That’s more like it.”

His hand on your hip guides your movements back and forth over his rough cargo pants. It’s not long before you are once again shaking in anticipation of the possibility of achieving that sacred bliss he has been withholding for the last hour. Afraid and needy, you immediately beg him to let you have the one thing you need.

“Please please please please please!”

“I aim to, Darlin’”

Your vision flashes white as the heat pools in your stomach, and right before you grasp your please he rips it away once more. Your scream of horror is music to his ears when you collapse against him sobbing in anguish.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

GIVE HIM TO ME NOW!!!!!!!

[lover-from-the-past]

F!Inexperienced!Reader x Shanks and Beckman, and Rayleigh (and Shakky)

- Threesomes (MFM, MFF), oral (male & female receiving), age gaps (not specified), smoking and alcohol mention, raw sex, scissoring (?), voyerism (?), rough-ish (Rayleigh/Shakky), hair pulling, cervix fucking (?), belly bulge, creampie

- mention of abandonment in Shanks/Beckman’s, mention of a toxic ex and Bi reader in Rayleigh/Shakky’s.

Nsfw, mdni

Shanks x reader x Beckman

It was easy to be charmed by pirates. You knew this well enough, seeing enough girls go heartbroken after being strung along for a few days, pretty words and good sex making them gullible. But you were determined to stay away from pirates, to never get attached.

Your resolve wavered, though, when the Red Haired Pirates came to your village. They were rowdy, drinking like they were dying of thirst and alcohol was the only thing that would save them. You knew you were doomed when their captain took a liking to you, his forward advances making you blush. It only fueled his behavior, but you managed a respite in the company of his much more reserved Vice Captain. Beckman was stoic, but he spoke to you easily. He huffed a laugh when his captain got a rise out of you, smiled when your face turned red at Shanks’ filthy comments. It seemed like the two couldn’t be more different.

You were wrong, though, and that terrible miscalculation is what led you here in the first place. You had convinced yourself that it wouldn’t mean anything if you found them unreasonably attractive, that it wouldn’t hurt to fantasize. But now, the promise you made to yourself was forgotten as desire overcame your rational mind. You had thought, if anything, you might fall to Beckman’s charms, his steady presence and sly words easing you into false security. If you were stupid enough, maybe you could have fallen to Shanks’ overt interest. It was nice to be wanted, in any capacity, especially by someone so clearly desired by others. You hadn’t thought you would be dumb enough to be talked into the situation you were in now, pressed between the two men in one of the dimly lit rooms above the bar one of them had apparently rented.

But your body had betrayed you, letting you be pulled into their arms. It had started slower, just kisses. Benn to your back, hands firm on your hips as his lips pressed softly to your neck. You were face to face with Shanks, arms around his shoulders as he kissed across your jaw, then down towards your chest. It was easy to get lost in the feeling of it all; hands roaming over your body, lips sucking harsh marks into the skin of your neck and chest. It was easier still to grind your ass back against Beckman’s growing hard on, his massive hands guiding you to roll your hips how he liked. The low groan he let out sent a thrill through you, emboldening you enough to pull Shanks flush against you, pressing your lips to his as you hooked a leg around his hips.

The grin he wore was viciously pleased, his hand gathering your hair and pulling just hard enough to tilt your head. It wasn’t long before you were undressed, pussy hovering over Beckman’s face.

“Sit your hips down on me,” he tells you, hands running over the expanse of your hips and ass as he waits for you to do as told.

“I won’t hurt you?” You ask slowly, unease rising in your chest. You’d never done anything like this before, you didn’t know how it was supposed to go. Sure he may be strong, but you didn’t want to suffocate him!

“He can take it,” Shanks drawled, “Can’t ya, Benn?”

Beckman hummed, meeting your eyes steadily. His pupils were blown wide, eyes heavily lidded.

“Come one, baby,” he coaxed, “Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

Swallowing thickly, you eased down onto his mouth. The first thing you felt was his nose bumping against your clit, then his lips opening to suck you into his mouth. His hands smoothed up your sides to grope at your tits as he licked a broad stripe up your pussy, earning him a stuttered moan.

“Atta girl,” Shanks praised, his hand coming to anchor itself in your hair once more. He was a sight to see; hair disheveled, pupils blown wide, shirt off to expose the expanse of his chest and abs. Your eyes follows the sparse trail of hair from his chest down to where it disappeared below fabric, leading your eyes to the straining bulge in his pants like a treasure map.

He sits up on his knees so you’re eye level with his bulge, the hand in your hair slowly stroking your head as you concentrate as best you can. Beckman worked slowly between your legs, firm strokes of his tongue between your folds and over your clit as he ran his hands soothingly across your skin. Knowing your attention was divided, Shanks retracted his hand from your hair to undo the button of his pants, watching you reach out to undo his zipper.

His cock sprang free, and you tried desperately to remember anything you had heard about what to do when presented with a situation like this. You stroked him first, pumping your hand up and down his length in an attempt to seem like you knew what you were doing.

Shanks watched you intently, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. His hand combed the hair back from your face, letting him better see your pretty features.

“Press a little kiss on the tip,” he instructed softly, watching you do as told. You looked up at him for more guidance, the tip of his cock still pressed softly to your bottom lip as you continued to pump your hand slowly up and down.

“Use your tongue, lick up from the base to my tip, babe.”

You paused your strokes, angling his cock upwards so you could flatten your tongue against the vein on the bottom of his cock. Following it upwards, you kept your eyes on him for approval. You didn’t want to mess this up, not when it felt so good to have Beckman below you and Shanks before you.

You remembered what a friend had said before, her advice on how to suck dick. When you reached the tip, you circled your tongue around the head, flicking the tip of your tongue against the underside before taking it into your mouth.

Mindful of your teeth, you sucked experimentally, eyes glued to Shanks’ face for a reaction. He just grinned, breath becoming more labored as you did what your friend told you to do months ago. Beckman’s large hands returned to your hips, urging you to slowly rock them against his face. It felt good.

You again swirled your tongue over the head, tasting salty pre before taking more of him into your mouth. You weren’t confident enough to go more than another inch, and it was difficult to breathe properly with your mouth occupied and your pussy being ate.

“Breathe through your nose, love,” Shanks directed, his hand a firm weight on the back of your head as he collected your hair for you. You pulled back, breathing in, then took him into your mouth again. You repeated the small motion until you got your breathing controlled, finally taking him deeper into your throat. It was a struggle to fight back the reflex to gag, your eyes welling with involuntary tears, but it was worth the discomfort to see his head tip back and hear the sound he let out. It was a relieved sort of groan, exhaled softly from his mouth.

Just as you figured out a rhythm, bobbing your head and rocking your hips, Beckman’s pace switched. You choked on an exhale as he sped up, his tongue flicking over your clit before pushing into you, manually rocking your hips as your movements stuttered.

“Feels good to get that pretty pussy ate, doesn’t it?” Skanks said, drawing as much attention as you could spare back to him. “Lucky bastard below you always has to have that mouth busy, ain’t that right, Benn?”

Beckman hummed around you, the vibrations of his deep voice going straight to your clit, making you keen around Shanks’ cock. He groaned, “Fuck, she liked that.”

“We’ve been here longer than any island before ‘cause we couldn’t not get a piece of this pretty pussy,” He continued, urging your head faster on his length, “Never been harder than that first day when you ignored me for Benn. Learned something about myself, I suppose.”

You sucked harder at his tip, hearing his desperate groan before moaning around him as Benn sucked harshly at your clit. One hand found its way into his hair, the other pumping whatever cock you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

Through the haze of pleasure, you heard another zipper before feeling Benn groan. Heat flared in you, tightening the knot in your stomach as you realized he was touching himself. You were so close, you needed them to cum too.

Focussing on Shanks, you quickened your pace, sucking harder at his tip and moaning around him freely. He swears above you, and you know you’re doing something right when you feel his hips stutter forwards.

“Fuck,” he gasps, “‘M cumming, where—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you suction your mouth around his tip, moaning as your hips stutter over Beckman’s mouth. Just as you tip over the edge, Shanks cums down your throat and Beckman groans below you, but his mouth never stops working you through your orgasm, so you keep sucking on Shanks until he has to push you away. He falls against the headboard, chest heaving as he allows you to collapse into his arms.

EIt’s Beckman who pulls the three of you into the shower after a long moment of catching your breath. Your head feels fuzzy, and your legs are barely strong enough to hold your weight. It doesn’t matter, though, because the two men help you to the bath, and they’re the ones who clean you up. Benn washed your hair, gentle hands combing out whatever tangles Shanks made, while the man in question washes your body with a soft cloth. Shanks kisses your nape, rubbing his hand across your hip and murmuring into your ear.

When you find your way back into the bed, you’re situated between both men once again. Shanks lets you curl up into his side, and Beckman holds you from behind, smoking a cigarette. It seems Shanks was right when he said Benn kept his mouth occupied.

————

Rayleigh x reader x Shakky

You hadn’t through much of the older man who kept returning to your boutique until your friend said he was flirting with you. Mari said you should go for it, see where it goes.

“You don’t have that bum holding you back anymore,” She reasoned, “And you know what, he might even make you cum!”

You had nearly punched her when she said that, not knowing if the man—Rayleigh, apparently—could hear her or not. Mortifyingly, it seems he could.

It wasn’t until weeks later that you learned he was married, and your heart nearly stopped when she came into the boutique with him. She was beautiful, graceful and lovely in a way that was intimidating. You did your best to avoid them, embarrassment coloring your face, but she found you anyway. You expected her to yell at you, maybe demand your resignation from the shop, but she only smiled. She asked your advice on clothes, humming when you stuttered out an explanation. They paid and left, and you swore it was the last you would see of them.

It wasn’t, though.

They became regulars, seemingly taking a liking to you. Mari was elated, though your ex was less than pleased. He stormed in to yell at you, screaming about everything he deemed wrong with you, only to be manhandled out of the store by Rayleigh as Shakky approached to comfort you. Your boss had let you go home early, sympathizing with the embarrassing moment and hurt it caused. You had agreed to go with Shakky and Rayleigh to their bar, the notion of free drinks irresistible after the run-in with your ex.

One thing had led to another and you found yourself buried in Shakky’s pretty pussy, Rayleigh fucking into you from behind.

You couldn’t really be blamed; after years of sexual frustration and shitty partners, anyone would take up the offer to get their rocks off by fucking the hot older couple who had taken a liking to them, right?

It hadn’t started like this, immediately getting fucked. No, you had complained about your shitty ex boyfriend, and they had asked about what all he said. You had confided that he was insecure because he couldn’t make you cum, but that you hadn’t met anyone who had been able to do that so it really shouldn’t matter. Rayleigh had rubbed your back, saying you just hand met the right people, and Shakky had said it wasn’t your fault.

“It’s likely a lack of experience,” Shakky said, blowing smoke to the side, “Not a lot of younger people know what to do with girls like you.”

You had shrugged, absentmindedly saying “Well, not a lot of older people are interested in me.”

That sentence had gotten you into Shakky’s lap, one leg hooked over her hip so you could rub your clit against hers through the thin fabric of your underwear. She had gotten you out of your skirt, and her own pants were tossed somewhere across the room.

“Poor girl’s never gotten a good fuck,” She murmured against your lips, hands grabbing your ass to haul you onto her more firmly. The sound you let out was an embarrassing thing, something small and desperate, but she just grinned, kissing you harder.

Your clit throbbed as she kept the pace controlled and slow, your pleas doing little to sway her.

“Go on, Shakky, give the poor girl some relief,” Rayleigh called, watching the scene before him with rapt attention. He watched as you were flipped, landing in your back and Shakky knelt over you. She huffed, putting her cigarette out on the dish beside the bed before planting her hands on your thighs, humping at your pussy with enough speed and force to bring tears of relief to your eyes.

“Yes, please, yes,” you chanted, hands scrambling for purchase as you rolled your hips in time with her. A sob escaped you as your body locked up and your vision whited out, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. She helped you ride it out, rolling her hips against yours slowly as you twitched against her. Your body relaxed, even as your heart kept racing and your chest heaved.

“Pretty’s first time cumming, huh?” Shakky cooed, moving your hair from your face before palming your tit. “Shame I didn’t cum with you, baby.”

Vaguely annoyed, but mostly painfully turned on by her teasing, you panted the foot that was hooked over her hip and flipped your positions, hands firm against her hips as you bent to take her panties off. Once out of your way, you pushed her legs up before pressing your tongue to her pussy, licking a long, slow stripe up to her clit. Pressing your tongue firmly against her, you began to such harshly on the little bundle of nerves before pressing a finger against her entrance. She was soaked.

Before you could get farther, a large hand on your hips drew your attention away from the woman before you. Glancing back, you saw Rayleigh standing at the edge of the bed, cock leaking in his hand. Pausing to pull your panties down, you arched your back as far as it would go, spreading your legs further to lower your ass enough to give him easier access. As you returned you attention to Shakky, you felt him press the head of his cock to your entrance, beginning to slowly push in.

“Breathe, pretty,” he murmured, hands rubbing up and down your hips and thighs to sooth you. You were wet enough that he slid in easily, but the stretch from his cock is what you had to get past. Breathing slowly, you forced yourself to relax, pushing back against him to get him inside. To make it easier on you, he reached around to play with your clit, feeling you spasm around him as he rolled it under his fingertips.

The final push in was the hardest, despite your eagerness and the hand in your clit. He was big enough that his tip pressed against your cervix before he was fully in, and the last few inches made you feel almost painfully full.

“He’s a lot, baby, go slow,” Shakky cooed, her hand combing back your hair as you focused on accommodating Rayleigh’s cock. The man himself kept firm pressure on your clit, moving you to orgasm once more just by playing with you and being all the way in. Fuck, he was big. Whatever guys you’ve fucked in the past definitely didn’t measure up, and even the straps you’ve used fell flat. From size alone he managed to hit every good spot you could think of, and fuck, you knew he knew how to use it. Controlling your breathing, you turned your face back into Shakky’s cunt, redoubling your efforts to make her cum as you began to push back against Rayleigh’s hips.

He pulled out, stopping when his head threatened to slip out, before pressing back inside in one smooth thrust. Impatient and eager, you fucked yourself back on him as you fingered Shakky, her moans fueling your desire to please. You’ve never felt better than when with them, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make it good for them, too.

With every thrust, you were pushed into Shakky, nose bumping her clit as you tongue fucked her. Her hand wound tightly into your hair, pulling you closer into her as her thighs tensed and twitched around your shoulders.

“Moan on her clit, baby,” Rayleigh instructed, watching his wife give him a glare before twisting her pretty face into a moan as you did as he said. He gripped your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to watch himself disappear into your tight pussy. Groaning, he watched the fat of your ass recoil as you fucked yourself back into him.

Shakky murmured something to you between moans, and you reached down to press a hand over the bulge appearing below the skin of your stomach. You felt Rayleigh twitch inside you, hips bucking forward involuntarily.

If they wanted the other to cum first, you’d be happy to use the tricks they exposed. You threw your ass back up against Rayleigh’s hips, pressing against the bulge of his cock through your stomach. At the same time, you fucked your fingers into Shakky’s tight pussy, moaning around her clit before continuing to suck it. In trying to make them cum, it’s gotten you right back on the edge of orgasm. Your eyes burned with tears and you doubled your efforts, wanting to cum with them.

Shakky’s legs locked first, squeezing around your head like a vise as you kept steady suction to her clit. Tasting her release and feeling Rayleigh’s final, harsh thrust into your soaked cunt was enough to send you over the edge, pussy spasming around Rayleigh’s thick cock.

He swore, voice almost pained, “Gonna cum, where do you—”

“Inside, inside,” you desperately mumbled, pressing your cunt push to his hips as you milked his cock dry.

You could feel his cum leak out into you, feeling painfully empty when he pulled out. You were almost sad as you felt a thick glob of cum leak from your pussy.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Rayleigh stepped back, giving your ass a smack before rubbing the skin tenderly.

“Good job, baby,” he told you, leaning over you to kiss his wife before disappearing to start a shower for the three of you.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” Shakky asked, smiling when you hummed against her thigh

——————

A/n: late asf to this req, college and work got the better of me 🫠

My first time writing smut so I hope it’s good, also I hope the characters weren’t too ooc…

Anyway this was very self indulgent bc I #needthat

Thanks @guillotine-enjoyer for the request!

[guillotine-enjoyer]

I CANT USE MY LEGS ANYMORE. I DONT HAVE ANY LIQUID LEFT IN MY BODY. IM DYING FROM HOLY HORNINESS

[moonmaiden1996]

Hi! i Loved your last one piece shorts!! Can I ask for sexlife with benn and his kinks with a more inexperienced partner? i love him sm, thanks in case you'll do !

Okay I went rogue on this but in my defense I have been wanting to write Beckman for AGES so it mixed of how I imagine he treats his inexperience's partner and some kinks at the end. 18+

Benn Beckman is a man of experience, patience, and quiet intensity. Unlike the boisterous chaos of the rest of the Red Hair Pirates(Shanks), his presence is one of controlled dominance. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t waste words—he watches, assesses, and when he moves, it’s with certainty. That same demeanor extends to the bedroom, especially when faced with a more inexperienced partner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sharing You: Watching and Holding You Down

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

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

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

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

2. Soft Dom with Wife Kink

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

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

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

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

3. Heat/Smoke Play

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

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

4. Praise and Reassurance Kink

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

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

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

5. Exhibitionism

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

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

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

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

LIKE. COMMENT. REQUEST

[missbeckman]

Hoje faço 10 anos de Tumblr! 🥳

[one-pieces-things]

This might be kinda vague, but could you do an arranged marriage scenario with Benn Beckman and a fem!reader? Where he marries her when someone offers to sell her to him??

Teasing from Shanks (Skanks) too because that’s just what he does

Ofc, here you go your fanfic with Benn, don't worry, it wasn't vague, Shanks is so silly here, for an instant I thought Benn would threw him in the sea

𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚗 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴺˢᶠᵂ, ᵉˣᵖˡⁱᶜⁱᵗ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ᵃᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ/ˢᵃˡᵉ, ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ, ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵉˣ ᵉˡᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ, ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ.

The air in the tavern was a physical thing, thick with the stench of cheap alcohol and sour hopelessness. You stood on the wobbly wooden stage, the rough fabric of your only dress scratching your skin. Your father’s sweaty hand clamped onto your arm, his voice a slurred megaphone.

"I got a prime piece of property here, gents!" he bellowed to the leering crowd. "Strong, healthy, and knows her place! Who'll give me a thousand berries to start?"

A few coins were tossed onto the stage, accompanied by crude laughter. Your face burned with a humiliation so deep it felt like a physical weight. You stared at a splinter in the floorboards and prayed for it to be over.

Then, a voice, smooth as polished steel and just as strong, cut through the filth. "Five million."

Every jeer died. The entire tavern swiveled towards the back corner. Leaning against a support beam, looking utterly bored by the entire spectacle. Benn Beckman. The name was a legend whispered in every port, the right hand of the Emperor Red-Haired Shanks. His sharp, grey eyes were fixed on you, and for the first time, you felt seen, not as an object, but as a person.

Your father’s jaw went slack. "F-five…?"

"Five million berries," Beckman repeated, pushing off the beam. He didn't break his stride, his long legs eating up the distance to the stage. He ignored your father completely, his gaze never leaving yours. He tossed a heavy sack onto the stage, the dull thud of a fortune in gold echoing in the sudden silence. "She's mine now."

He didn't grab you. He simply offered his arm. After a moment's hesitation, you took it. As he led you towards the door, a boisterous, cheerful voice filled with laughter rang out. "Well, I'll be damned! Benn Beckman, a family man!"

Shanks was lounging at the bar, a massive grin on his face. He gave you an appreciative, entirely friendly wink. "Didn't think you had it in you, old friend! Hope you know what to do with a wife! You can't just polish her like your rifle!"

Beckman didn't even turn his head. "Shut up, Captain," he said, his voice flat.

The deck of the *Red Force* was a world away from the tavern. It was alive with energy and purpose, but no one gave you a second glance. Beckman led you to a large cabin at the stern, closing the heavy oak door and shutting out the noise. The room smelled of old paper, gunpowder, and clean sea air.

He stood there for a long moment, just looking at you. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

You told him, your voice barely a whisper.

He nodded once. "Alright. Here's how this is going to work. You're not a slave. You're not a purchase. As of this morning, we're married. A piece of paper, a signature. It means no one can ever sell you again. It means my crew will protect you with their lives. It's a shield. That's all it has to be, unless you decide you want it to be more."

The next few days were a lesson in quiet. Beckman was a man of few words and even fewer movements. He'd spend his mornings cleaning his rifle with meticulous care, his afternoons reading. He never asked anything of you, but a plate of food always appeared on the table for you, and a warm blanket was always draped over the chair you usually occupied.

Shanks, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of cheerful intrusion. He'd barge in daily, always with a gift and a teasing smile. "Just checking on my new sister-in-law!" he'd announce, plopping down on the couch. "Making sure old grump-face here is treating you right. Has he smiled yet? I bet he hasn't."

"Captain," Beckman would sigh, not even looking up from his book. "You have your own ship. Go bother it."

One evening, a violent storm hit. The ship groaned and pitched, and a particularly loud crack of thunder made you jump violently, your heart hammering against your ribs. You were curled in the armchair, trying to be small, when a heavy weight settled over you. It was Beckman's coat, smelling faintly of him.

"You'll catch a chill," he grumbled, crouching down in front of you. In the dim lamplight, his grey eyes were soft. "Hey. Look at me. You're safe here. No one on this ship would ever let anything happen to you."

The kindness, the simple, unwavering assurance, broke something inside you. A tear escaped, tracing a hot path down your cheek.

He sighed, a sound of deep, weary resignation. He reached out, his calloused thumb gently catching the tear. It was the first time he had touched you, and the contact sent a jolt through you. He watched you for a long moment, his gaze intense, searching.

Then, slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he leaned in. His lips met yours. It wasn't a kiss of fire, but of warmth. It was slow, careful, and impossibly tender. A question. An offering. You answered by kissing him back, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a low murmur against your lips. "Are you sure about this? Because once I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice trembling but steady.

He stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. He carried you to his bed, laying you down on the soft sheets as if you were made of glass. He joined you, his body a solid, reassuring presence beside you. His hands roamed, not with demand.

When he finally entered you, it was with a single, deep thrust that stole your breath. He froze, his forehead resting against yours, his body taut with restraint. "Alright?" he murmured, his voice thick with an emotion you couldn't name.

You nodded, your arms tightening around his neck. He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that wasn't about chasing pleasure, but about forging a connection. He watched your face, his eyes open and vulnerable, showing you the man he kept hidden from the world.

"Talk to me," you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair.

"What do you want me to say?" he grunted, his pace never faltering.

"Anything. Tell me I'm safe."

"You're safe," he said immediately, his voice thick with conviction. "You're safe with me. I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you again." He shifted his angle, hitting a spot deep inside that made you cry out. "I bought you to save you. I married you to keep you. And now... I'm going to make you mine in every way that matters." His movements became more deliberate. "This body is mine. These sounds you're making... they're for me. Say my name."

"Benn," you sobbed, your back arching as he drove into you again and again.

"That's it," he growled, his control finally starting to fray. "My girl. My wife." He lowered his head, his teeth grazing your collarbone in a bite that was more pleasure than pain. "Cum for me. Let me feel you."

His command, combined with a particularly deep, powerful thrust, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you shaking and sobbing his name. He followed you a moment later with a low, guttural groan, burying his face in your neck as he found his own release, his body shuddering against yours.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the warmth. The second was the scent of gunpowder, clean linen, and Benn. You were in his bed, the soft sheets tangled around your legs. You were alone, but the space beside you was still warm. Glancing down, you saw you were wearing one of his shirts, the soft, worn cotton far too big, falling to your mid-thigh. The sleeves swallowed your hands.

A quiet click drew your attention to the other side of the room. Benn was sitting at his desk, methodically cleaning his rifle. He was shirtless, his torso a map of old scars and lean muscle, the morning light from the porthole glinting off his red hair. He must have felt your gaze because he looked up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. He didn't smile, but the hard line of his mouth softened.

"Morning," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Sleep well?"

"I... yes. Thank you," you whispered, pulling the sheet up self-consciously.

He set down his rifle and stood, walking over to the bed. He sat on the edge, the mattress dipping with his weight. He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good," he said simply. "You look good in my shirt."

Just then, the door flew open with a bang. "MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!" Shanks bellowed, striding in with his usual manic energy. He stopped dead, his eyes widening as he took in the scene: you in Beckman's bed, wearing his shirt, and a very shirtless, very brooding Benn Beckman glaring at him. A slow, triumphant, shit-eating grin spread across Shanks's face.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, winking at you. "Looks like someone finally figured out what to do with his new—"

"Captain," Beckman interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. He didn't even raise his voice. "Get out."

Shanks just laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he backed out of the room. "Alright, alright! I can take a hint!" he called, his booming voice echoing down the hall. "But I'm expecting a full report later, Benn! And for god's sake, smile at the girl!"

The door clicked shut, and you couldn't help the small giggle that escaped you. Benn looked at you, and for the first time, a genuine, albeit tiny, smile touched his lips. It transformed his whole face.

"He's an idiot," Beckman grumbled, but there was no heat in it.

"He seems to care about you," you said softly.

He leaned down and kissed you, a slow, sweet kiss that was a promise of more to come. "He does," he murmured against your lips. "Now, come here."

[titi-292]

Me as soon as I get to Elbaf and spot Shanks and Beckmann

[missbeckman]

MSGS(Make Shanks Great Again)

[missbeckman]

ok, besides aal that said in the video, plus the crew he is able to assemble, plus the ways we obliterated Kidd do you guys really really thinks he is a drunktard?

Party animal, yes, but a useless drunk?

[vampire-cupid]

Day 27 - Jealous - Beckman

For the whole day I could only think about this man. Why must he be so hot and perfect! So enjoy!

Word Count: 2k CW: jealous sex, female reader, squirting, mating press, creampie, fingering, insecurities, young woman old man, reader is between 20 and 25 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

It was a pure coincidence for you to meet an old friend from your home town on the island you were at. While the rest of the Red Hair Pirates were drinking to their hearts content, you were chatting with your friend.

What you failed to notice was Benn, who was sending death glares at the man in front of you.

At first he was happy that you were able to catch up with him, if only he wouldn't have kissed your cheek a bit too close to your lips in greeting or guide you to a chair with his hand a bit too low on your back.

It didn't help that Beckman knew that man was your ex, what you failed to mention was that you both broke up because your ex realized he was gay.

"You ok there?" asked a certain red haired captain as he sat down next to his friend. "Fine." was all Benn said, sipping on his beer while glaring at the man by your side. He normally wasn't the jealous type, not at all. But in this moment, he realized for the first time how much older he was than you. His grey hair acting as a sudden reminder that he was twice your age and making insecurities boil inside him that he didn't know he had.

He nearly smashed his glass in his hand as he watched the scene unfold before him. Telling you a funny story about his new boyfriend, you ended up laughing while drinking, ending up getting a bit of your drink on your shirt. Acting helpful, he handed you a napkin, even helping you wipe off your shirt.

"Who is the guy anyway." Shanks asked, trying to light the mood. "Her ex." the answer made the captain cringe. That was not the answer he expected. "I guess she was the one who broke it off?" Shanks tried to laugh to ease his friends worries. "He ended it." This time Shanks downed his drink in one go. This was not going well.

Meanwhile, your friend already noticed the big man glaring at him. Leaning close to whisper in your ear he laughed "I think your boyfriend is jealous." You ended up laughing again, not believing that someone as Beckman would get jealous. Your head fell onto your friends shoulder, both of you laughing as you clung onto his shirt.

That was the last straw. A loud bang could be heard and you jumped up in surprise as you looked at the source of the sound.

Your boyfriend was standing now, the chair he was sitting on on the floor and his hands smashed against the table. Before you could wonder what this was about, he made his way over to you, still glaring at your ex.

"Benn? What's the matter?" Without saying anything, he picked you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder and walking up the stairs to where the rooms you rented for the night were. Meanwhile the rest of the crew was laughing and whistling at you two. You could even hear someone say "I bet she can't walk tomorrow." "Tomorrow? More like a week!"

All this attention made your face heat up quickly. Once upstairs, the music and laughter was quieter but not fully gone. Only when you reached your room, the door closing behind you did the sounds dissapear.

You found yourself getting thrown on the bed barely having a second to figure out what just happened before your boyfriend was suddenly on top of you. Pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, he wasted no time to force his tongue in your mouth.

Moaning into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible while his hand grabbed your thigh no doubt leaving a mark.

Pulling away from the kiss, you just had enough time to catch your breath before you found your shirt literally ripped off your body. "BENN!" you scolded him but another kiss silenced you. Your bra followed the scraps of your shirt in no time.

Kissing down your neck, you quickly felt yourself get wet when he started to suck dark hickeys to your skin. His hands were already unbottoning your pants while his mouth wandered to your chest, once again leaving marks wherever he could reach.

He normally didn't think much of hickeys and lovebites but right now all he could think of was to mark you up. No one should ever question if you were single and he wanted everyone to know that you were taken. For a few seconds his mind went to other ways he could make sure that you could be his.

A white dress flashed in his mind and even the thought of you with a round belly came to him. Taking his mouth of you, he had to catch his breath before continuing, the thoughts alone turning him on more than he would like to admit.

"What has gotten into you?" you giggled breathlessly looking into his lust filled eyes. But he doesn't answer, instead he silenced you by kissing you again, his hands moving up to your chest and cupping the flesh with his big hands. Your pussy clenching around nothing as he playfully pinched your nipples.

Grinding his hips against yours, you could already feel his growing erection against your covered heat. This time it was your turn to undress him, pulling his shirt up to reveal his muscular body. He only stopped to kiss you for a second to pull the shirt over his head.

You watched in confusion as he suddenly got off the bed. Your silent question was quickly answered as he suddenly tugged your pants off. Your shoes, socks and panties following and leaving you completely naked on the bed. Of course he quickly followed, getting naked as well before settling back on top of you.

Grabbing your ankles, he gracefully moved them to his shoulders, leaning over you to kiss you and sucessfully press your knees against your chest so you were in a mating press.

His muscular arm laid next to your head while his other hand wandered down your body between your legs. Reaching your dripping pussy, he pushed two fingers inside you at once, watching your head fall back and your mouth opening in a moaned gasp.

Targeting your gspot with his fingers, the room was filled with loud squelching noises and the moans he forced out of you. Your toes were already beginning to curl and your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself get closer to the edge with every little touch.

Before you knew it, your hands dug into his biceps as the familiar feeling of an orgasm wash over you. But this time it felt different and only after you calmed down did you realize why.

A cocky grin was on Benns face, bringing his hand up to your face to show you his coated hand before licking them clean. He really made a show out of it, groaning at your taste. "That's my good girl, squirting all over my fingers." Your face started to burn at his words. "Let's see how many times I can make you do it while my cock is deep inside you, filling you up until."

His words made your core clench around nothing. Angling his hips, you could feel his tip rub against your entrance. And with one swift thrust he was inside you, filling you to the max. Overwhelmed by the feeling you didn't even think about how loud you are, moaning freely and not wondering if your crew downstairs could hear you.

Normally your boyfriend would keep a level head, silencing you with his lips but this time he wanted, no, he NEEDED you to be loud. To shout his name so the whole town can hear.

Without pausing, he began to fuck you, making your sensitive pussy drool all over the bed. Both of his arms were caging in your face, acting as leverage to bully his cock deeper into you. His heavy balls kept slapping against your ass, making lews noises from your wetness. His grey pubes gracing your clit with every thrust and only adding into the overstimulation.

Your hands wrapped around his biceps as your legs shook on his shoulders, trying to hold onto anything as you already came again, not only drenching the bed but also Benns legs and stomach.

Hearing Beckman chuckle made you shiver, his deep voice only adding on your arousal. "Good girl, let's see if you can give me one more."

Your eyes were already rolling back since he didn't give you a break between orgasms. You could feel every vein of his cock with how tightly your walls hugged his cock.

Like a mantra, you kept on screaming his name, over and over, not even seeing the cocky grin on his face. "That's it, make everyone know you are my good girl."

The words didn't even register in your brain but you still kept on going. "Fuck, you are so tight, I'm gonna cum. Want me to fill you up?" he groaned wanting to hear you say it. "Yes! Please! I want to feel you!"

You didn't think it was possible but his thrusts got quicker bringing you to the edge in record time. Panting heavily, Benn's eyes stayed on you, wanting to see you cum before he fills your pretty pussy with his seed.

Your whole body shook as your final climax took over your body, making you cry out his name louder than ever before. You couldn't even enjoy the feeling of his warm cum coating your walls as he emptied his balls inside you, too caught up by the pleasure running through your body.

It took you a few minutes to finally think clearly again, your boyfriend meanwhile was kissing all over your face.

"I love you." you said not even thinking about WHAT exactly you were saying.

His movement stopped. With wide eyes he stared at you. Finally realizing what left your mouth, you turned your face away. But Benn wouldn't let you, cupping your face and kissing you passionately.

"I love you too." he whispered against your lips, kissing you again and again. This was the first time you said those three words, and the first time he had ever said those words to anyone.

Of course he had flings on random islands before he met you. But since he first laid his eyes on you, he knew that you were the only person in the world he would ever want to be with.

Finally pulling out, he gently laid down beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. "So, will you finally tell me what got you in this mood today?" With a groan, he just rested his chin on the top of your head. "No reason." "Wait a minute, were you jealous?" you giggled but it quickly turned into a squeak as he gave a rough slap to your ass. "I never get jealous." was all he said, before silence came over the room.

"Do you think I am too old?" he hadn't meant for those words to leave his mouth but now they did and he can't take them back. "Why would I?" you laughed, not yet realizing that he was worrying about something like that.

Cupping your face, he gently rested his forehead against yours. "I am nearly 30 years older than you, wouldn't you rather want someone closer to your age? And what of the future? IF we ever get married or have children you will forever be stuck with an old man."

Confusion came over your face as you looked at your boyfriend. Seeing his worried expression, you gently rubbed his cheek. Smiling gently at him, you gave him a soft kiss. "I don't care, I love you and that's all that matters." "I love you too." Benn returned, kissing you once more.