Fuckk That’s Creepy As Hell. Makes Me Feel Sick N Disgusting. I Love It I Need More Of It Right Fucking

social skills training, solmaz sharif

Sanji Week Day 3: Stealth Black

The things I wanna do to Silvers Rayleigh should probably be considered crimes against the elderly.

well 🧍‍♀️ as a reminder this blog is NOT a safe space for trump supporters but it IS a safe place for women, queers, trans ppl, people of color, undocumented people, and any marginalized group.

Please, spread this for those who might need it right now

U.S. suicide hotline: call or text 988 (available 24 hours)

U.S. trans lifeline: (877) 565-8860 (when you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator. full anonymity and confidentiality)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – provides 24/7 confidential support and referrals for individuals and families facing mental health and substance use disorders, including panic attacks and anxiety.

LGBT National Help Center: (888) 843-4564

Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386, text START to 678-678, or chat online.

Take care of yourself and each other. Please stay safe ♡

more levi visuals because we’re horny

xxx (fingering, spanking)

xxx (6:33) (fingering, guided masturbation, heavy overstimulation, impact play, vibrators)

xxx (3:00) (fingering, heavy overstimulation, impact play, spanking)

xxx (nipple play)

hello!!! i was wondering if you could write 'accidently calling them daddy in bed' sort of thing? fem!reader, and with law, ace, sanji and luffy? if you feel comfortable, no pressure!

have a good day 😊!

anon I LOVED this idea it was so much fun to write!! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!!

Characters: Trafalger D. Law, Portgas D. Ace, Sanji, Monkey D. Luffy

WC: roughly 500-600 each

CW: established relationship, unprotected penetrative sex, use of "daddy," dirty talk, praise kink, rough sex, edging, begging, i think that's it?

18+ MDNI

Law

Your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist as he pounds into you harshly. The long day of Penguin and Shachi nagging him had worn his patience thin, and you were suffering the consequences. Though, you’d never complain.

His tip bullies your cervix, hard enough for tears to pool in your lower lash line, but not hard enough for you to want to stop. The pain mixes with the pleasure, making your head spin as you lose control over your rational thought, the only focus in your mind him.

Your walls tighten around his cock as you arch into him. His grip on your hip is bruising, the other hand braced next to your head to support his weight.

“You gonna cum again?” He scoffs.

You whimper, nodding frantically as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Words,” He reminds you coldly. If your eyes had been open, you would have seen the way his brows furrowed, tongue poking out as he focuses on holding his orgasm back, wanting to cum at the same time as you.

“Please, Daddy, I’m gonna cum soon. Please can I cum?”

His hips stutter, eyes widening as he focuses on your face, screwed up in pleasure. You’re too far gone to realize what you’d said.

A grin spreads as he renews his effort, pounding into you harder than before. The name had sparked something in him, and he was even more focused on making you cum. He wanted to reward you for how good he felt.

“Yeah, baby. Cum for me.”

Ever obedient, you came with a cry. Your nails dug into his strong arms, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure crashed through you. Your walls spasmed around him, milking his cock as he came with a groan, hot spurts of cum filling you up.

You come down slowly, aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as you blink your eyes open, admiring the disheveled state of Law above you. His eyes are half-lidded as he grins at you, eyebrow raised in amusement as he waits for your brain to catch up with your actions.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’d said, “Oh my god did I call you–”

“Daddy? Yeah, baby. You did.” He’s smirking as your cheeks turn red and you bring your hands up to cover your face with a groan. “Don’t worry, baby. I liked it.”

You slowly part your fingers, peering up at him through your hands, “Yeah?”

He nods, pulling your hands away and dropping his head to kiss you softly.

Ace

Your cries are muffled as he pushes your head further into the pillows, the sound of skin meeting skin ringing through the room.

His other arm is wrapped under your waist, holding your hips up at just the right angle. His eyes are glued to the way your ass ripples with each thrust of his hips into yours. He tugs his lower lip between his teeth, groaning softly at the way your walls squeeze him so nicely.

Your cries get louder, walls squeezing him tighter as you feel the precipice of your orgasm right there when suddenly he pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting.

You almost sob, fisting the sheets as a cry of frustration leaves you. You’d been at this for nearly an hour. Ace knew your body too well, knew exactly how you felt when you were about to cum. He’d had you walking the line for far too long, never letting you succumb to the pleasure.

“Please!” You cry, the word muffled by the pillow. You can hear his light chuckle as he taps his tip over your hole, not bothering to answer you.

He slams back into your warmth in one smooth motion, setting a punishing pace immediately. His cock slides easily in and out of you, your arousal soaking your thighs, his pelvis, everywhere.

You’re quickly pushed to the edge of your orgasm, oversensitive from all the teasing. He can tell, and pulls out yet again.

“Please let me cum, Daddy, please!” You babble desperately, tears soaking the pillow, “Please, I’ve been so good.”

He blinks at the name, a smile spreading. His cock weeps as he rubs it through your folds, drunk on your pleas. He notches his tip in your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet.

“C’mon angel, beg for Daddy’s cock. Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please, Daddy, I want your cock so bad. You make me feel so good, so so good. I wanna cum all over your cock, wanna show you how well you fuck me. Love your cock, Daddy, love the way you fuck me. Please fuck me. Wanna feel your big cock filling me up again.”

He grins, borderline feral as he slams into you. You cry out, the drag of his cock against your oversensitive walls almost painful. Your head is fuzzy as you feel your orgasm build again. Your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re gripping the sheets as you silently beg him not to pull out again.

To your relief, he doesn’t. Your orgasm hits you like a train, your whole body shaking from the force of your orgasm. The arm around your waist is the only thing keeping you in place as your body goes limp with pleasure.

He collapses into you, sweaty chest pressing against your back, pushing you deeper into the mattress as his orgasm hits him. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a muffled groan, hips grinding against yours to work you both through your highs.

He detaches his teeth from your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the mark and rolling off of you with a grin.

“Daddy, huh?”

“Shut up. You liked it.”

Sanji

Your head is lying against his shoulder, eyes shut and body lax with pleasure. He has you seated on his cock, hands on your hips lifting you up and down repeatedly. You’d long given up on doing the work. His gentle voice in your ear had urged you to let him take over, to just sit back and relax, let him give you pleasure. You’d given in, forever weak to his loving gaze.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” His voice is rough in your ear, nose nuzzling into your hair, “Look at how well you take me. Pretty little pussy swallowing my cock so well. You make me feel so good, the way you squeeze my cock has me seeing stars.” You whimper at his praise, cheeks burning as you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Aw, sorry angel am I making you shy?” He chuckles softly, not sorry at all. “I can’t help it; you just do such a good job! So wet, and warm, nice and tight too. The most perfect pussy I’ve ever seen. And oh, you taste so sweet. Better than any meal I’ve ever had.”

You whimper again, senses overwhelmed. The tip of his cock rubs your g-spot perfectly with every thrust, his pelvis rubbing your clit just right with each lift of your hips, and the filthy praise in your ear shooting straight to your core.

You can feel yourself getting close again. You’d long lost track of how many times you’d cum. Sanji was determined to get at least one more out of you, then maybe he’d consider it a job well done. There was very little he liked more than watching you go dumb on his cock, muscles limp as you gave yourself over to him completely. The trust you placed in him to take care of you warmed his heart, and he was determined not to take it for granted.

“Just like that, angel. Can feel you squeezing my cock so nicely. You gonna cum again? You like the way I’m fucking you, like the way I make you feel? Go on, pretty baby. Cum for me, show me how good I make you feel.” His voice is soft as he coaxes you towards your orgasm, but there’s an undercurrent to his tone, something that shows you just how much he craves the sensation of you choking his cock. The barely audible desperation tugs at your heart, urging you to push the fog out of your brain just enough to babble a response.

“So good, Daddy. You make me feel so good, wanna cum again. Gonna cum all over your cock again, wanna show you that you make me feel so, so good. No one else makes me feel this good, only you.”

He moans loudly, suddenly pushed over the edge into his own orgasm at your words. Your moan matches his as you feel his cock throb inside of you, ropes of cum spilling into you and pushing you over the edge as well.

Your head lolls against his shoulder as your legs shake, walls spasming around his pumping cock as you sink into the pleasure he gives you, body light and airy as he presses messy kisses over the side of your head. As you both come down, his hands leave your hips to pull your face away from his neck.

His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, the tang of blood making you blink your eyes open, brows furrowed in concern. Your gaze narrows in on his nosebleed, eyes widening in concern.

“Sanji! You’re bleeding!” You look around for something to staunch the bleeding. “Sanji? Who’s Sanji? I’m ‘Daddy’ now, right?” His voice is dazed as he gazes at you like he worships you.

You frown at him, nose crinkling in annoyance, “Damn, I did say that, didn’t I? You lose ‘Daddy’ privileges if you’re annoying about it, so tread carefully.”

His smile is dazed as he shakes his head, “I won’t be annoying. I’m never annoying.”

You roll your eyes, wiping the drying blood from his nose and leaning down to kiss him again.

Luffy ­

Your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, arms around his shoulders as you kiss him messily. His hands are under your thighs, holding you up against the wall as his cock pumps in and out of you.

His teeth catch your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. You whimper, fingers tangling in his hair. His fingers dig tighter into the fat of your thighs, a moan leaving his lips as he kneads the flesh.

He releases your lower lip, dropping his head to suck a mark into the crook of your neck. Your head drops back against the wall, lips parted with pleasure.

The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, dragging perfectly over your g-spot with each thrust. His pelvis grinds against your clit, the friction making your head spin. You pant softly, the grip on his hair tightening as you feel yourself edging closer to your high.

“Luffy,” You whimper. “I’m so close. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He breaks away from your neck to rest his forehead against yours, grinning, “I won’t stop pretty baby, don’t you worry. You like the way I’m fucking you? Am I making you feel good?”

“So good, you’re making me feel so good. Gonna cum soon, please let me cum soon Luffy.” You whine, struggling to focus on his face as you grow dizzy with pleasure.

“Yeah, you wanna cum? You wanna make a mess all over my cock?” You nod desperately, trying to hold your orgasm off until you get his permission.

“Beg for it, baby. Convince me.”

“Please! Please Luffy, let me cum on your cock. You make me feel so, so good. Wanna show you how good you make me feel, please let me show you how good you make me feel. Gods, please can I cum I’m so close.” Your words are whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you focus on holding your orgasm off.

He grins, “Cum for me, baby.” You cry out, back arching off the wall as your orgasm crashes through you. Your body shakes with pleasure, walls clamping down on his cock as your arousal gushes out, soaking his pelvis and your inner thighs.

He groans, eyes squeezing shut as he grinds into you one last time before cumming, his seed spilling out of him and painting your walls. You moan at the feeling, clenching harder around him.

His hips keep moving, fucking himself through his orgasm. You whimper, oversensitive and desperate for relief. Your hands smack at his shoulders but he ignores you, eyes glued to where you’re joint as his cum starts to seep out of you, pushed out by his thrusts.

“Daddy please, s’ too much,” You whimper, trying to wriggle free.

His eyes shoot up to meet yours, dark with lust, “Take it. You’re the one who was begging not too long ago. You can take a little more, can’t you?”

His gaze leaves little room for argument, and you nod dumbly, biting your lower lip to keep your whimpers in.

His pace slows down as his high fades. He carefully pulls out of you, setting one of your legs down but keeping the other up so he can watch the way his cum drips out of you.

It’s not until later when you’re both relaxing in the bath, your back against his chest, that he realizes.

“Did you call me ‘Daddy?’”

Your cheeks turn pink as you internally cringe. It had just slipped out, and honestly, you were hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh. Maybe? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I won’t do it again, Luffy. Sorry.”

You can feel the way his chest shakes as he laughs, and your blush darkens.

“Don’t worry about it. You can do it again if you’d like. It was nice.”

roronoa zoro x gn!reader

reader gives praise + pet names / slightly steamy / zoros a simp

“missed you today,” you mumble against his mouth.

zoro thinks you’re heaven bottled, straddling his waist, kissing him like you’ve been starved. he sits back, enjoying your undivided attention and flurry of soft, deep kisses. his large hands gently squeeze at your sides, then move to your thighs, kneading the soft, plush skin.

he’s in love with you. zoro is completely and unequivocally in love with you. he’s drunk on your lips, your body, your voice. everything. you fill his senses and bewitch his mind. even the scent of your hair left on his pillow has him burying his nose into the plushness to get more of it. he’s obsessed. he’s so sure of it, and yet it’s so foreign and strange for him.

zoro is no stranger to desire. he knows how it feels to want something so badly you’d kill for it, but never has he felt a desire quite like this one. it’s not a desire to win, or to be the greatest, or to serve. it’s vulnerable and fragile. it’s consuming and overwhelming. it’s more more more.

and that’s all he can think when your lips finally part, your eyes looking down at him like he’s never done a bad thing in his life. like he’s precious. innocent. loved. missed. wanted.

“i love you,” you whisper to him, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw before pressing a gentle kiss there. he pulls you closer, if possible, his strong hands gliding up your t-shirt to rest on your bare back. he presses his lips to your neck, earning a satisfying sigh from you, so he sucks lightly.

“i love you,” he mutters into your skin, goosebumps forming along his defined arms as your nails begin to scratch at his scalp. close just isn’t enough. he buries his face into your shoulder, nuzzling there.

such a big man and yet, for you, he’s melted butter.

“you worked so hard today,” you tell him, kissing the shell of his ear, “you’re so good, baby. so good.”

he relishes in the praise. he wants it so bad. from the moment you joined the crew, he’d been jealous of any praise you gave to anyone else. especially the idiot cook. how he longed to have you tell him he’s done well, that he’s good, that you’re proud.

zoro doesn’t know when he turned into such a melt, but you just have that affect on him. you make him feel like he can be vulnerable in your presence.

“thank you,” he breathes, squeezing you tighter.

“do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask him softly, pressing little kisses to the side of his head. he could stay here forever and a day.

“you don’t have to,” he says, voice rough from how tired he is. you chuckle lightly.

“i want to,” you tell him honestly, pushing him off with great difficulty, “let me take of you, ‘ro.”

he’s so thankful to whatever fate bought you to him, shuffling around so he’s sitting between your dangling legs, your hands rubbing gentle but firm circles into his muscles. he groans when you hit a certain spot, so you stay there, every now and then kissing the crown of his head.

he’s just not worthy. he doesn’t understand how he managed to get this hallelujah. how, out of everyone, he’s the one you devote your time to. he’s the one you drunkly confessed to one night after a successful fight, kissing him before pulling yourself away and mumbling how sorry you were and that you understand if he didn’t feel the same.

how ludicrous.

it was his bed you clambered into and never left. it’s his mouth you kiss good morning and kiss goodnight. it’s his hand you squeeze under the table. it’s his face you search for in the crowd.

and he’s so fucking thankful. there’s a God. there must be.

“never leave me,” he finds himself saying out loud, your movements stopping, hands resting against his shoulders. he feels you move, and then your lips against his ear.

“what a silly thing to say,” you speak softly, sending a shiver down his spine as your hands begin working at his tired muscles again, “i’m not going anywhere, ‘ro. please don’t worry about that.”

he closes his eye. trusting you. relaxing back into your embrace. if you’re destined to always be at his side, always sleep beside him, to rub his shoulders and kiss his skin, then he’s sure, more than ever, there’s someone Holy looking down on him. he should be more accommodating to that thought. maybe it’s time he actually thank whoever they are.

hell, he might even start praying.

i do not own one piece or anything associated with it

made a chart of the straw hats' skin tones with the colors being screencapped directly from the episodes, to show how much they've lightened. this is more than just an "artstyle change" or "design evolution" or "just the timeskip" this is blatant racism/colorism. it's fucking ridiculous and i don't understand how toei is continuously getting away with it please reblog btw, i think this is something people should see

Too Much (Take Me Home)

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: okay so I have no idea how to rate this. Like this is definitely not PG but it's also not really nsfw?? Honestly I'd recommend just reading the summary and deciding for yourself from there.

Summary: Reader is a sub who, due to the nature of y'know like being on a pirate ship constantly has not had a single chance to relax in weeks, especially since they don't really know any of their crewmates like that. Sanji steps in to save the day.

Disclaimer(s): so funny story - this is the single kinkiest thing I've written for this blog. And yet. It is also the least sexual thing I've written for this blog, that being not sexual at all. This is purely mentally-ill wish fulfillment emotional hurt-comfort d/s fluff. None of those words are in the bible but we persist nonetheless. A lot of d/s themes but like soft d/s if that makes sense, undernegotiated kink (there's definitely communication and it's p healthy but they're both idiots your honor), some petplay if you squint? Like not really but reader is on their knees and he calls them puppy a few times so do with that what you will.

There's a surprising amount of paperwork that comes with being the ship's chef.

One would think Sanji was always on his feet, whipping up something new- and yet here he is, late at night, sitting at a table that feels nautical miles away from where he really wants to be, the galley. But this was a part of the job- to catalogue ingredients, new recipes, what he could make and on what day for their supplies to last until the next town.

He's used to it being a solitary job, but then there's footsteps and a knock at the doorframe of his room and you walk in, shy uncertainty in your voice.

"...Sanji?"

You weren't sure about this, about any of this. But you were exhausted in a way that sleep couldn't fix, and it was obvious to you as to why.

You were a sub. There, you admitted it, got that embarrassing information out of the way as quickly as possible.

You - strong, strategic, stoic you - had been spinning out for the last few days. It had been too long since you'd been able to go under, since you'd joined the strawhats, to be precise, and it was starting to wear on you.

There was only so long you could go like this, tough and detached, protecting everyone else, taking care of the rest of your crew before yourself. It was constant, on the Merry. You really should've seen that coming with it being a pirate ship and all, but you felt like you had no room to breathe. Wake up, save the day, plan, eat and sleep only to keep your energy up to do it again the next day. You were always on, always performing the most capable version of yourself, and it was starting to wear you thin.

Sanji, for all his care and attention, hadn't seemed to notice. Even now, when you'd come to him like this. For that, a part of you was thankful.

He can't even hope to hide the way his face lights up when you walk in, quickly grabbing a towel next to him and wiping off his hands on instinct, like there should be oil or cooking wine or flour on them. There isn't, but other times there is. And there will be again, eventually. Better safe than sorry, he supposes.

"What could possibly bring such an angel down to me so late?"

He questions with a charming smile, cocking his head at you fondly. You roll your eyes at his immediate antics, blushing.

"Ah. Straight to business, huh?"

You laugh nervously, looking away and scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish blush.

"...can I stay with you? While you work?"

He squints at you curiously and then nods, smile blooming on his face the way it always does when you're around. For such a simple request, he doesn't know why you look so embarrassed.

Sure, the signs of embarrassment aren't as obvious on someone like you- but he can still see them. The way your eyes avoid his, the slight awkwardness in your stance as you shift on your feet.

"Of course, love. I'd never turn down your wonderful company."

You take a relieved breath and nod, looking down. For a moment you stand still, trying to make your feet move. Is this really such a good idea?

You take the leap before you can second guess yourself, walking over to where he sits at the desk. You pass the other seats and he squints curiously, having expected you to take one. Instead, you come straight to his, sinking down to your knees next to him and sitting back on your heels, resting your head on the side of his thigh.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

His eyes widen when you settle on the floor next to him, his face a pink hue as he looks down at you. Still, he didn't move. Instead, he gently brushes some of your hair back, looking at you with confusion.

"Are you...what are you doing, love?"

You swallow thickly, blinking your eyes back open to look up at him pleadingly, face pink.

"...can I stay here? I- I'll explain if you want, I promise, just...please."

He chuckles, an intrigued little smile gracing his features as he looks down at you nods. "Go ahead, explain. You can stay here as long as you'd like, darling."

"I need..."

You start to speak before backing up your explanation, embarrassment showing in the way your speech jumps back and forth between thoughts.

"I've been exhausted, recently. I'm sleeping fine, I just...sometimes I need to- to relax a certain, uh- a certain way. And since we've been on the ship, I haven't been able to, uh..."

You squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment, taking a deep breath and turning to press your face against his thigh to hide your blush.

"...subspace. I'm- I'm a sub. And I haven't been able to go into subspace for a while, and I know this is a lot to ask you and I'm sorry, I just- I need to be like this for a while, please."

Immediately, your behavior starts to make sense. It would be hard to be a sub on a crew like this, constantly having to fight and stay in control. You likely haven't had the chance to submit to anyone in ages, if only for safety reasons. After all, you're all wanted. But with the natural way you dropped to your knees below him, put your head on his thigh like second nature, it all clicks.

He looks at you for a moment and blinks, his expression unreadable.

"...I think I understand what you mean. You want to be good for me, yes? I don't mind that, you know. You're quite pretty like this." He gently drags the back of his hand across your face with a smile before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Sweet thing."

You shiver at his words and nod in confirmation, letting your head fall back to the side to rest against his thigh.

This is...it's the last thing he'd expect from you, really. You're so tough and capable and independent, so the fact that you're a sub? The more he thinks about it the more it makes him blush- that someone like you was even capable of submitting, let alone craved it, let alone again would come to him, pleading for him to let you kneel at his feet for a while as he works. He gently runs a hand along your back, the corner of his mouth twitching as he smirks.

"I want you to stay like this until you're satisfied, alright darling?" He smiles and takes a look back at the paperwork on the table "...Are you comfortable there?"

You nod, heart fluttering when he says he wants you to stay like this until you feel better. It's sweet and gentle and so very Sanji, but at the same time, it sounds almost like an instruction. Like a command. It makes your cheeks flush and your mind stop whirring for a second in a way you'd missed so badly from when friends or partners who knew about your submissiveness back on land would put you under. The comfort of not having to think of anything besides doing what you're told- being good, always being good. You'd missed this.

"I need you to relax for me, okay? Just...focus on enjoying yourself, yeah? I have to get this work done, so I'm counting on you to stay right here. Can you do that for me?"

You nod almost immediately and he grins at the obedience, going back to his work with a satisfaction mirrored in you.

Something to do. A task. Something to be good at, good enough to make him proud. It settles your mind as you lean your head against him, the slight twinge of pain from kneeling on the wooden floor grounding you pleasantly.

He could get used to this, he thinks- you sitting at his feet next to him like a puppy, one of his hands scratching through your hair absentmindedly as he works through his paperwork and supply numbers. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as he works, the sound of parchment paper a pleasant constant. Your breathing was also rather soothing, a nice background to his quiet humming as he writes. He feels as though he could listen to it all night and never grow tired of it.

He makes a mental note of how each different touch effects you- cataloging your reactions, what you like, what seems to make your mind dissolve. He finds a particular sweet spot behind your ears that leaves you a shivering puddle when he scratches softly with his nails, a spot at the crown of your head that makes you purr, that any light touch closer to your neck provokes a wobbly, ticklish smile but that you don't make any move to stop him. You seem completely zoned out, dazed and pliant and warm under his fingers.

A minute passes like that, then five, then ten. He looks back down to check on you and feels his heart stall in his chest.

"Oh, darling..." He whispers softly, blushing at the sight of you. Hazy and dazed with near-reverence in your eyes. He stops writing, setting down the pen and reaching down to lift your chin up, looking you directly in the eyes.

"Look at me. Please."

You perch your chin on his thigh obediently to look up at him from your position on the floor. It's the most relaxed he's ever seen you- shoulders dropped like a tremendous weight's been lifted from you, limbs like lead as doe eyes blink up at him blearily, expression glazed-over and vulnerable and soft, softer than he thought you were capable of.

You were a tremendous warrior, someone feared across the seas, and yet your head was on his thigh, sitting at his feet below him.

You, who could kill him in a fraction of a second if you wanted.

He sighs, a little breathless. He's so tempted to lean down and kiss you, but he shakes his head slowly. Not now, not yet. There's something else he needs to do first.

His hand runs through your hair as he looks into your eyes almost like a nurse would with a concussed patient, checking up on you to make sure you're okay.

"Can you speak? It doesn't have to be a lot, just...say something for me, love."

"C'n speak."

You answer softly, obedient nearly to a fault, your usually confident voice gone soft and mumbly. It's perfect. Christ, all of it is perfect.

"'verything's just kinda...fuzzy right now. 's okay, it's nice."

His eyes are glued to you as his hand gently runs through your hair, scratching behind your ear. There's something on his mind, something he can't quite place or figure out yet.

"You look so beautiful right now." He admits gently, his voice still a low whisper. "Can you tell me why- why you're like this?"

Well, wasn't that a hell of a question? Why are you - always that emphasis in your head, though he doesn't mean it like that - of all people, why are you?

A few moments pass before you say anything. You don't really know what you would say, not until it's already coming out of your mouth.

"...cause 'm not allowed to be."

It's the only answer you can think of when you can finally convince yourself to speak.

"I- I have to know everything. All the time. Be in charge and make the tough decisions and stay on top of everything and make sure everyone's okay-"

The words come slowly at first, but the longer you speak the quicker they spill out, rambling like it's something that's been festering for weeks that you desperately need to get off your chest.

You cut yourself off with a deep breath when you realize the breakneck speed with which you're ranting, simplifying your answer down to it's most basic terms.

"...I don't get to be weak."

He can't help but feel his breath catch at that reply. "I don't get to", like it's something you want but aren't allowed. He can so easily see that side of you now that you mentioned it, but he'd always just ignored it. It seemed inconsequential. Like that part just...wasn't you.

It strikes him then that that was probably on purpose, on your part. You wanted them to disregard it.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he recontectualizes all your stress, all the moments of you snapping at the crew over little slights, the more curious he gets as to how and why you got to be like this in the first place.

"There isn't anything weak about this." he pushes back sternly as soon as he can get his voice to work. "This is...this is the most courageous thing I could imagine. I'm so proud of you."

The words hit you like a brick and you close your eyes, taking a shaky breath as they play on repeat in your head.

"I'm so proud of you."

You can feel yourself crumbling at his affection, the voracity of his care. How adamant he is about understanding that sometimes you just needed to be below someone else.

He cups your cheek in his hand softly, angling your face to look up at him. The more you let your guard down, the warmer his chest feels looking at you. He'd never seen you open up this much, it makes his heart ache. He smiles at the sight of you looking up at him so prettily, lightly tapping the tip of your nose.

"...there you are."

The words are barely a whisper, full of pride and admiration and pleasant disbelief. It's a shame how much you try to prove your strength, your resilience when there isn't a reason for it.

You'd always been enough for him. Always been strong enough, tough enough, useful enough. Always, always, always.

You'd never needed to be anything more than who you were, and getting to see you like this...it's like he's seeing you for the first time all over again.

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

All you can manage is a soft huff of breath, his words knocking the breath from your lungs. It's almost a sob, except that there are no tears. You have no idea why. Or why you almost sobbed in the first place. Why are there no tears?

"It's an honor to finally meet you."

The words cut through you like water. He still wants you? Even like this- emotionally stunted, a needy mess, pathetic and fragile and shaking?

"The way you are right now is nothing short of beautiful. Everything about you is lovely. It's...it isn't easy letting go like this, is it?" He muses, a hand resting on your hair, his thumb running along your face.

You sniffle quietly and blink back tears, nodding your head. It's progress even getting you to agree.

He knows you aren't upset by his words and so your unshed tears don't bother him. Knows that you aren't used to this, aren't going to be good at believing or accepting it immediately. He knows it'll take time to get to a place where words like that don't phase you anymore. So for now, your agreement is more than enough.

"...can we stay here for a while? Please?"

You break through his train of thought with a cautious whisper, voice small. A surge of pride shoots through him at your words, so fucking proud. If agreeing with his words is difficult, asking for what you want is worse. It's a hell of a first step.

"Of course we can. How long do you want to be like this, sweetheart?"

Ah. And there's the problem, isn't it? The "what do you want?" Really and truly, you have no idea.

"I don't mind much, it's..."

You trail off softly, hiding your face against his thigh in embarrassment as your blush spreads to the tips of your ears.

"...'s however long you want me to stay. It...it helps, letting you decide things for me."

The admission is a shy one, but it's not like it's something he couldn't've seen coming. It makes sense that instructions and praise would go hand in hand to make someone like you feel safe, small, protected.

"...I don't want you to move, okay?" He finally decides, lifting his hand from your hair to brush it behind your ear, fingernails scratching gently.

"Just let me take care of you for a while."

You take a deep breath at his words like the air's cleared for the first time in decades, finally having something to ground yourself on.

He makes a note of that in his head, too- you like a sense of order, when he makes decisions for you or gives you instructions to follow. Something simple that you can focus on even in your dazed, vulnerable state of mind, a task you can accomplish.

His hand continues to run through your hair gently, thumb making little figure 8's at the crown of your head.

"Do you want me to hold you? Or do you prefer being on your knees?"

He doesn't look at you when he asks, pen scratching away at his charts with his eyes on the table. Somehow, that helps- the idea that he's still working, that you're not too inconvenient of a distraction.

The simple choice you're given between two options makes everything feel easy and calm and hazy, and your voice is quiet when you answer.

"On- on my knees. Makes me feel more- more..."

You trail off, trying to explain but unable to find the words.

"More vulnerable." He finishes for you, smiling as it finally clicks. A position of submission, giving up your power to him.

Undoubtably, you're more vulnerable on your knees. You'd typically never let anyone near you in this state, not since you joined the strawhats, but with him, it feels...safe.

"I like it too." He admits, his hand still on you as his voice slowly trails off.

Your features smooth out in relief at his understanding and you nod, leaning into him and nuzzling his thigh for a moment to show your appreciation.

He has to look away for a moment, as seeing you nuzzle against him triggers an almost visceral reaction he wasn't expecting. His face flushes a bit more, a small smile brightening face as he leans in his chair, his expression adoring as he looks down at you. He reaches out for your ear, scratching gently at it with his fingernail.

You're so soft like this he swears he might fall in love.

"...can we do this more often, when you want to relax?"

Your eyes widen with a surprised blush at all the question as your brain shorts out for a moment.

He really...he's really willing to make this a regular thing? He isn't just doing this to humor you? It seems almost impossible to believe that this isn't some kind of weird burden you'd pushed onto him.

"...yeah. I'd- 'd like that."

You mumble breathlessly, clearing your throat as you look down.

He's already looking for another command, a simple task he can praise you for. Something about telling you what to do - you, who could slit his throat in an instant - he's quickly figuring out that he likes it. Quite a bit, actually.

He thinks back to the little things he's noticed about you- you prefer standing with your back to walls, facing the exit of whatever room you're in. You can only fall asleep when someone else on the crew is still awake. You're always chewing toothpicks, sucking on the end of your pen-

Wait.

Do you have an- could he- maybe...?

He hums in thought, grin spreading wider as he looks down at you once more. Gently, he lifts your chin so you're looking directly at him.

"Open your mouth," He instructs softly, almost in a whisper. Curious.

A soft blush blossoms across your ears but other than that you don't question it, far enough into subspace that all that matters is following instructions, being good. You don't even think before parting your lips obediently, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes. Like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

Bingo.

It was an oral fixation, your constant need to suck on a toothpick or the end of your pen. He couldn't fully understand, but he could relate- he always felt safer with a cigarette in his mouth.

He gently pushes his thumb in your mouth, taking a deep breath as he waits for your reaction to the audacious move. You wanted him to make you feel small, safe, vulnerable. He's more than happy to do that for you.

At your service, now and always.

Your blush spreads out to your cheeks and your eyes widen a fraction in surprise, but as soon as you manage to process that he really just did that, you close your lips gently around his thumb, eyes glazing over as you look up at him for approval.

You're so beautiful when you're like this, all raw and vulnerable and desperate to be good. He hums, eyes glued to you with a loving gaze as he takes in just how stunning you are in this moment.

"Submission suits you." He praises softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You're so...so sweet like this. So lovely when you don't think so much, puppy."

The last word is meant jokingly, gently poking fun at the way you're kneeling next to him, head on his thigh. Your reaction, though...that throws him. The way you squeeze your eyes closed and your blush darkens to a pure pink when he calls you "puppy", the way he can feel you whine around his thumb at the term as you melt, shoulders slumping- and that's certainly interesting, isn't it?

"Aww, puppy likes that, doesn't she?"

He can't help but smile as he takes his thumb out of your mouth for a moment before pushing two fingers in instead. Your cheeks flush when he does so, those puppy dog eyes glancing back at him with so much emotion it's almost overwhelming. The name is fitting, he supposes.

You flush further with embarrassment, though you know it makes no logical sense. Your mind doesn't seem to want to quiet itself, echoing judgements of your current position- weak, needy, pathetic. The shy feeling of poorly restrained shame claws up your chest even as you try to dismiss it. You shouldn't feel so embarrassed by this- Sanji clearly isn't bothered by it, doesn't think it's odd, hell, if anything he seems like he's enjoying himself. Yet you, brain all tied up in knots, can't seem to look at him.

So instead you try to focus on other things, like the comforting contrast of the warmth from his fingers and the cool metal of his ring pressing down softly on your tongue.

He can sense the embarrassment from you, though he can't understand it. He'd seen you at your worst, and this certainly wasn't it.

"...there's nothing wrong with allowing someone to take care of you, you know. I actually quite like seeing you like this." He says, the words falling out of his mouth before he even thinks.

Almost as if they'd been waiting to come out this whole time.

His reassurance only makes your blush intensify, but this time it's not bad.

It isn't shame, not really. It's more pleasantly flustering. If embarrassment were a spectrum, this...feeling would fall on the 'good' end of it.

Sensing it's a vulnerable topic, he lets the reassurance hang, not giving you enough time to think about it before changing the subject with a fond, knowing chuckle.

"You like the ring, don't you?"

He doesn't say, 'it gives you something to focus on so your mind doesn't wander too far' or 'the temperature brings you back down and grounds you here away from those nasty thoughts', but you both know that's what it is.

There's something warm in the way he so nonchalantly reveals that he's been cataloging every little detail of your reactions- the spot behind your ears, the fact you like being called 'puppy', and now the fact that you like the feeling of his ring pressing down on your tongue. Your mind is in enough of a submissive haze that you can't bring yourself to lie to him, instead nodding your head in agreement.

A small, fond smile graces his lips as his thumb moves up to your lower lip, gently prodding at your chin to bring your attention back to him.

"You can take breaks if you want. I know the ring's cold."

His voice is a warm, intimate whisper, eyes watching every movement you make, every twitch and hum catalogued in his mind.

The care in it makes your heart feel warm and you keep his fingers where they are, nipping lightly at him for a moment as if to let him know without words that you're enjoying this, that you don't need a break. It's so fucking cute his heart melts.

He can't help himself any more, pulling his fingers from your mouth. You nearly whine at the loss but then - then, oh, then - he presses a small, soft kiss to your lips and the whole world falls apart, his lips pressed tenderly to you as if you're something so much more than the sum of your parts. Your mind works on overdrive- it's such pure affection and approval and he kissed you, so that means you must've been good, right? That he was proud?

Little do you know, he's just as in awe as you are. In awe that you're really here with him, like this. That you'd ever let him do this. Everything about you is special to him, special because it's yours. Just like your eyes, the sound of your voice, the heart beating erratically in your chest. Before he can think about it he's pulling his ring off his finger, wiping the remains of your spit from it, and sliding it gently on your ring finger.

You cock your head up at him and squint in confusion and he smiles, voice soft like he's afraid anything stronger than a whisper would break the moment he's worked so hard for.

"Keep it, puppy. Then, next time you...need my help like this, you can give it back to me. Yeah?"

He punctuates his words by lifting your hand up like it's precious, placing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

The promise sparks a warmth in your chest, the casual mention of "next time" like there's no doubt at all in his mind that there will be a next time, the way he touches you like you're fragile, stares at you with pink cheeks and blown eyes like you're the sun and the moon and all the pinpoints in the night sky.

You should've jumped overboard when you had the chance, you think, because you've ended up drowning either way.

Eventually you can convince your muscles to work enough to nod, face blooming in fireworks of pink and orange and red as your words come back to you, though your voice is still small and hazy and breathless.

"...yeah, okay. Next time."