dracule mihawk's property.

she/her. 18+ acc. MDNI.

[siphols-blog]

You are my destiny, you share my reverie!

꒰ ˙✧ ˖° 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ༘ ˚ ꒱ dealing with a lovesick pirate was rough. Now imagine having to deal with said pirate every day against your will.

꒰ pairings! ꒱ yandere! shanks x reader! & yandere! mihawk x reader! ( separate ) part 2!

꒰ word count! ꒱ؘ : 3.5l

꒰ warnings! ꒱ؘ : toxic relationship, yandere behavior, sub!character & dom! reader, smut, threats, stalking, abuse of power, mentioned killing, betrayal, toxic! reader (at this point is freak4freak) , and mentions of corruption.

꒰ author's note! ꒱ؘ : reader may or may not be suffering from success — they still haven’t decided themselves. This was requested by @alexa-yukiyu! "Te puedo interesar en escribir una parte dos para “You are my destiny, you share my reverie!” 👀" Had sp much fun writing this part as well :D

Red-Haired Shanks

You pulled the sheet closer against your nude body to avoid the low temperature that had infiltrated the room you shared with Shanks. Your face scrunched in irritation just thinking about it. You could be enjoying your hot tub, and your freshly done food by the best of chefs that the marines had to offer in the New World at this moment. Instead, you were in a Yonko’s ship and in the captain’s room. With a tracker stuck to your bracelet, of course.

A soft knock was heard on your cabin door, and you rolled your eyes with annoyance.

“Why do you knock if you are going to barge in either way?” With a sneer now present in your face you angled your face to look away from the door, “Shanks.”

A lighthearted laugh was heard before the door was swung open with vivacity. The infamous pirate ignored the rattle that the door made against its frame due to the force he exerted on it. Shanks had a wide smile on his face looking as refreshed as one could be. If you ignored the dark purple spots that surrounded his neck you could almost mistake him as someone who was just happy in the mornings.

“It’s the principle of the matter my love.” He replied while balancing a plate that held a cup of coffee and carefully cut fruits for you to eat.

You scoffed unamused with his jolly mood this early in the morning. It was time like these where you preferred him hung over. At least then he wasn’t knocking your door down trying to invade your personal space.

“Yeah, of course it is.” You replied back without much bite back in your tone. Finding yourself quite drained from last night’s activities.

Unknowingly to you Shanks had placed the plate down silently on the nightstand and was now watching with hungry eyes the way the sheet you currently had draped over yourself slightly fell down to reveal your back. The same back which had red and puffy scratches from last night.

He swallowed thickly and realized his mouth had become dry very, very fast. He let his hand reach out to touch the side of your face he could still reach, and almost beamed when you didn’t immediately retaliate by biting his hand. ( although you had learned since the first time you attempted to do so that this action only served to spur him into babying you for being ‘scared’ and ‘vulnerable )

Shanks caressed your cheek and let it trail down to the nape of your neck so he could reach across and plant a soft kiss in your cheek.

“My love, I brought you breakfast.” You sighed and turned to face him with the disapproval of somebody who had been kidnapped and now forced to interact with said kidnapper.

You slapped his hand away with a glare and avoided looking at his lovesick face that had been making you feel weird lately. You scooted over the left side of the bed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. However, Shanks was not somebody who just let himself be too far away from you. Which is why he stood up and walked quickly to where you were now seating at.

What you didn’t expect was his immediate wince after taking a step closer to you. Your eyebrows furrowed in what you would deny was concern as you watched his face closely to catch the discomfort that flashed through it momentarily.

You shifted in your side of the bed as Shanks quickly took a seat next to you. Your eyes trailing over his body as if searching for an injury he may be hiding. However, your eyes went back to the bruises that adorned his neck from last night. Could he be hurting from — ?

Surely not right? You squinted your eyes suspiciously as memories from last night started to creep back to the front of your mind.

The air in the rom was charged with tension from the two of you. However, both of you were a little too entranced with each other to notice such small detail.

Low groans escaped the man under you as he looked up through his eyelashes who were covered with the overstimulated tears that were still falling down his face. His hands clung desperately to your back until they left angry red lines that would mark your back for days to come.

Shanks ignored the creaking of the bed where both of you were lying on top of to focus on you. His body was shaking from the stimulation it was receiving from you. Your hands trailed down his chest and he instinctively flinched back from the sensation before whining for more. Truly a man who didn’t know what he wanted more.

You scoffed at his reaction before pinching one of his nipples to hear him whimper one again. Truly, this man abducts you from your home and job, yet has the audacity to act as if he is the one being debauched. He’s luck you find him pathetic enough to be amusing.

Your thrusts became more erratic as you chased your own pleasure. You huffed in amusement as Shanks demanded you to keep going, almost on the verge of begging ( something you doubted he would mind ) to keep going faster. Your thighs burned and you knew you would feel them aching tomorrow, but you were too far gone to care.

Okay, so perhaps you had gone overboard last nigh. But it had been something that Shanks had implored you to continue doing. There was no way he would be aching the morning after right? You narrowed your eyes at his face in suspicion. Your mind seemed to be trying to warn you of something, but you weren’t too sure of what.

Instead, of trying to get to the bottom of the suspicious feeling at the pit of your stomach you grabbed him by the arm and yanked him closer. Not because you wanted him closer — the day that occurred was the day pigs fly — but rather to see if you could see him wince from such an abrupt movement.

And just as you suspected you saw Shanks, one of the emperors of the sea and one of the strongest pirates of the current era, wince slightly. You did not doubt for a second that it had been due to the nightly activities you both had been partaking on lately. For some reason a wave of irritation washed through you at the idea that Shanks had been trying to hide any sort of ache or injury he had received as a result of you.

“Idiot! You’re feeling bad, and you dare to act so flippant?” You scolded with furrowed eyebrows. Your hand reached and took a hold of his cheek and pulled as if you were reprimanding a little kid rather than a grown man who seemed to not be able to take care of himself. You watched as he chuckled sheepishly, and apologized with a titled head. While you hovered over the pirate you considered a danger to your mental health and his own likehood of survival you failed to notice his victorious smile that he was hiding as he leaned his head onto your shoulders.

What can a pirate like him do to explain himself except the truth? Shanks may have been over reacting in front of you, yes. However, in his defense this was how he manages to be closer to you! There’s specific buttons he has to press to get you to lower your guard. While there’s others he should avoid completely to avoid you getting angry or worse! Avoidant and silent at him.

The main one he had noticed that worked like a charm was the injured one. A couple of weeks ago he had dragged you with him to a bar. Knowing that there was no way you would be able to leave as the island was one of his territories. However, he hadn’t expected for you to get so cozy with another pirate that just so happened to dock in said port.

Cozy enough to playfully place your hand in their bicep and ask about their ‘treausures’. As if some no-name pirate could ever compare to what Shanks could offer you. His joyful mood had been trampeled over, and so did his apetite for food. Once his crew saw the scene they already knew what would take place. Many of them had been witness to the frenzy their captain had worked himself into just trying to get you in his grasp, but somebody trying to take you away from him? They wouldn’t be suprised if this became a bloodbath very quickly.

As such many of them discrately changed their posture to make it easier to access their weapons. They watched with keen eyes how their captain approached you and the other unfortunate one at the bar and placed his hand on the pirate’s shoulders.

What unfolded was unexpected to many. The pirate had failed to recognize the man in front of him. Perhaps it had to do with the amount of drinks they had tanked in the afternoon, or maybe it had been stupidity. Either way it had ended with the pirate daring to smash a bottle of wine over Shanks’ face. ( Later the crew would realize that such a slow and feeble attack would have been something that their captain would have been able to dodge with his eyes closed, and that the reason he had let it land for a specific reason )

You coughed out the rum you had been sipping in suprise after seeing Shanks drenched in the remaining wine that had been left in the bottle alongside part of the glass from the bottle. Your eyes were left widened as you rushed out of your seat to hover uncertainly over Shanks who seemed to now be silently pondering his next move.

“Shanks! Did it not occur to you to dodge?” Even while you were chastising him you were trying to get the remaining pieces of glass out of his clothes and hair. Your attention now completely captured by the man in red. What you didn’t notice then was the way gears would start turning on Shanks’ brain. Like a dog who had found that ringing a bell would make their owners give them new treats.

The pirate? The news briefly touched on a rookie pirate and his ship being sunk down in the New World, but not many paid attention to such small news compared to other more important matters that were occuring around the world.

As such everytime that Shanks felt a little restless when it came to your lack of attention he may oveplay some of his injuries. Just a tad bit, really.

But really shouldn’t happiness be the end goal for all couples? If he used specific methods to keep you placent who could blame him? You had a lot going for you. Too much if you asked him. Enough that if you could he didn’t doubt you would ditch him like a rusty anchor that only served to drag you down.

And Shanks was many things, but he would never deny being a greedy, selfish man when it came to you and your affections. He had only survived in the past by thinking of how he could get closer to you, and the ways he could enjoy your warmth. If somebody took that from him — well, many would suffer his wrath until he could see his lover once again.

Dracule Mihawk

At least it wasn’t public humiliation.

That was all you could really say to make yourself feel better about the situation you found yourself in.

Although you had initially compared it to fancy babysitting, you couldn’t help but feel as if the dynamics that had developed were widely different. In short words? You were treated like a fancy pet by Mihawk.

Not that he would lower himself into admitting it. Rather he seemed rather fond of pushing your limits now that you had — perhaps, broken his trust.

“A shame you don’t want to take a sit on my lap — I suppose I’ll have to decline the next mission from such heartbreak.”

“My beloved, I do think this trip to is necessary before the mission. But if you wish for me to take a faster path then you should give me a reward, no?”

“Do you doubt sleeping on the same bed is vital to the assignment?”

“I suppose that if you insist on going out with those individuals you surround yourself with then I should come as well.”

For goodness sake you couldn’t breathe without him not staring you down! Which yeah you get it. You betrayed him and may have broken his heart, but everybody goes through such phase at the end of the day!

( Not that you dared to tell him such thing to his face )

Your professionalism was slowly and patiently chipped away by the man now labeled as the ‘strongest swordsman in the world’. Refusing to let you leave without threatening the livelihood of those around you, making both of you act as a couple whether you like it or not, and purposely causing you to be flustered on purpose. That man was having the time of his life being glued by your side, and it was not what you expected at all.

Especially with your reunion being one of the most humiliating moments of your life. Not only had he forced you to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness like an ex-lover who had cheater on their partners, but had also made you sit on his life and apologize for your deceit while he trapped you from leaving by having a tight grip on your thighs that fell around him.

You expected a more drastic punishment from the man you had use, but strangely enough he seemed satisfied by putting a metaphorical leash on you. ( Not that you doubted Mihawks wouldn’t put a collar on you if you gave him a reason to )

However, the one thing you did not expect this man to make a habit was the teasing. A kiss near the ear, a hand too high resting in your thigh, a heated look across the room. All of these things leaving you more than just bothered. Which was why you had expected him to make more direct moves. ( not that you wanted him to do that or anything! It’s just — it would make your job to be near him easier, no? ) Instead, it was as if Mihawk had made it his mission to tease you into oblivion.

The part of it all? It was working.

Now you were feeling like a pevert! I mean yeah sure, you did have to look past the amount of boodshed he seemed determined to drag you into in every mission he attended, the amount of suspicious blood stains in his shoes everytime you both docked into a new island, and of course you couldn’t forget the weekly bodily harm threats against the other marines you worked with — however! Could anybody really blame you when you were one bad day away from jumping onto that man’s bones.

Whether that was to kill him or drag him to bed was still up to debate in the council.

Those were your thoughts a week ago, and if you could you would laugh yourself into hysterics for thinking you had a choice in this at all.

It all started going downhill once Mihawk got assigned to a mission in the East Blue where he predictably dragged you to. This time it was regarding a pirate that was dipping his feet onto the drug manufacturing business a little too loudly, and being loud in that type of business just equaled stupidity.

Usually he dragged you around to complete the mission whether you like it or not was the least of his worries. Matter of fact the only choice you had in the subject was with how much force he would need to drag you around with. However, this time he did leave your side. ( mutters of a annoying warlord who only knew how to cause problems — whatever that meant ) Leaving you alone at a hotel with only your thoughts to guide your decisions. Not a smart idea.

Because the moment you started hovering near the idea that you may be missing the man that had made the last months in your job miserable you decided to hit the bar. Not your smartest choice, but compared to the ones you had made in the last year it certainly didn’t hit top ten.

Which was why you strolled into the bar as if you owned it with money that was not yours and asked the bartneder for his strongest drink. Perhaps you gained a few odd looks, but you were too much into your episoede of denial that you could not bring yourself to care even if you tried to. Your current mission? Get drunk enough you would drown whatever foolish thoughts had managed to worm themselves into your brain.

You could not be compromised into your assignment. A breach of the contract if you had ever bothered to read it before signing it, and with the worst of them all.

Drink after drink your hand didn’t tremble to pick up a new one after downing a cup after the other. One hour in and the bartender seemed to finally start hesitating in accepting your request. Your vision was blurry and you could barely speak. You felt the incoming headache slowly worming its way in, but you had finally stopped feeling the pit in your stomach so all was good in life.

Then your worst paralysis demon came back to haunt you. A slow opening of the bar door had every client and staff rigid on the spot. A man easily recognizable walked through the doors like a reaper coming to get his dues.

Mihawk strolled into the bar with a blank face. It was truly as if this was his average day of the year. Something that was far off for the wrong reasons. After all, his days were far more absurd whether he sought said chaos out or not.

The swordsman did not let his eyes drift away from the person he had been looking for. Said marine was currently slumped over the table next to the bar while still clutching a cheap looking bottle of wine. Mihawk felt his eye twitch at the idea of you drinking yourself into unconsciousness with cheap wine. He knew you knew about his wine habit so why bother coming here instead of asking for bottles of wines from him?

Mihawk didn’t let out the sigh he wanted to let out go as he reached for you, and caressed the top of your hair. He was vaguely aware everybody watched him with wariness, but nobody stopped him when reached under your legs to carry you. ( had he been a lesser man he would have let his murderous thoughts win and make everybody here regret letting you be taken by a possibly dangerous man, because it could’ve not been him and then for sure heads would roll )

Instead, he simply adjusted his hold on you so you could rest your head on his chest in a more comfortable position. The walk to the hotel wouldn’t take long, but Mihawk was in no hurry to stop this unusual moment of you willingly being near him.

He looked up at the full moon in the sky, and wondered if you knew the noose he had slowly started tying. Your so called ‘friends’? You hadn’t contacted them in months, and neither had you been able to respond your family’s correspondence that he fed to the sea. There was no use to even mention your supervisor who had now started to give up the idea of you ever coming back to the position you once held as long as Mihawk stayed by your side.

This was exactly how he liked it, and would not accept it any other way. It was obvious your choices had some outside influences which was why he was making sure to cut those weeds down before they could become a more annoying issue.

He titled his head down to look at your face closely after hearing you mumble something. Mihawk let his lips stretch into a small smirk, and pretended to not hear you curse out his name as well as his family tree and future bloodline.

If that’s what you wished to focus on he would not press. Love and hate were closer than people thought, after all.

That may have been the initial reason why your betrayal had stung so deeply. He would have accepted your involvement in this mission as long as you had shown up. ( don’t misunderstand these thoughts — either way he would have killed everybody else to teach you a lesson, but it would have made a darker part of his mind quietly pleased to see how far you would go for him )

Mihawk refused to receive the indifference you attempted to show him by not even giving him the grace of showing up to his ambush. So he made sure there wouldn’t be any other time where you could turn your back on him. He would have your eyes on him. No matter what the cost of it would be.

Plus, you owed him right? Taking his first night was a big deal, after all. Putting himself in such a vulnerable position for the sake of making you be closer should be rewarded, no?

The pleasure you brought him would not be a one time thing. He loved you too much to not give every piece he had of himself to satisfy you. However, he refused to let you have the satisfaction of it being easily given. Once you begged him with that sweet voice of yours he’ll gladly give it to you. ( But Mihawk certainly wouldn’t mind if tears fell from your eyes once again — just for him )

He pulled you closer as you kept a tight hold of his sleeve in one of your hands. As if he would ever go far away.

Ever.

[thatcoolneighbor]

Cross guild morning routines hc

★ This was very cozy to write, but I feel like it’s not that much to it really… My own morning routine is shit btw. I just roll out of bed, get dressed, do my makeup and leave… I drink my morning coffee in class.

Mihawk

He’s a night owl, and thus he stays up late and prefers to sleep in

Sometimes he stays up late enough to catch the first glimpse of the sun rising

When his schedule allows it, he prefers to sleep until noon, which is why his bedroom windows has thick drapes that won’t let any sunlight in

Feels like absolute garbage when he wakes up. His irregular sleep schedule often results in headaches, and he’s groggy and more short tempered

A candle lit bath with scented oils and a shave usually helps restoring his energy until he’s had his morning tea

He generally prefers tea when reading the newspaper in the morning, but later during the day he’ll rely on coffee. He takes a dash of milk, but no sugar

Not big on breakfast in the morning, but he’ll force himself to eat something light, like scrambled eggs with some herbs from his garden

He absolutely hates stressing, and will take his time getting ready for the day. If anyone has something to say about it, they’ll get a taste of Yoru

Buggy

Usually a pretty early riser without needing an alarm, but it depends on the night before and how hungover he is

His routine is chaotic and always changing depending on his mood. Sometimes he’s abnoxiously hyper in the morning and welcomes the day with a smile, and sometimes he has to be dragged out of bed by force

If he’s in the mood he does morning yoga

smells his armpit to determine if he can go without a morning shower and jump straight into styling his hair and outfit for the day

Drinks his morning ”coffee” while applying his makeup. It’s less coffee and more of a colorful sugary concoction that’ll lead to a massive sugar crash later on for sure

Prefers pastries for breakfast, and somehow he always ends up getting glitter on them, even if he doesn’t wear any that day…

Gets ready in a rush but never forgets to stack a few fresh buggy balls in his pockets

His room looks like the aftermath of a circus show every morning

Sir Crocodile

Wakes up at 6:00 sharp every morning

He clenches his jaw in his sleep so he usually wakes up with a headache (already has aspirin prepared on the nightstand, which he swallows dry)

His morning routine is practically non-existent as it quickly transitions into work, but even he has his morning rituals

He starts by opening a window to invite fresh morning air inside, and then he’ll quickly ruin that by indulging in his first cigar of the day

He’ll also clean and refill the water bowl for the birds that likes to come to his window

For a quick caffeine fix, he’ll usually grab an espresso on the go from the most expensive looking bar while taking a morning walk, and he’ll also purchase a newspaper during that time

He alway makes sure to stop by the bananagator enclosure

When he gets back, he’ll usually check the status on his partners, and if Buggy isn’t up by 8:00 sharp, he’ll drag him out by force

He tells himself he allows Mihawk to sleep in, but in reality not even Crocodile is brave enough to face the consequences of waking the swordsman from his slumber

[one-pieces-things]

Mihawk asks reader if she would like to join him in his bed tonight. Enthusiastically, she says yes. He is preparing the wine, rose petals, and candles as she walks in with her pillow and pajamas. He realizes she took it as a slumber party invitation and that all courting he was attempting went right over her head. 😮‍💨 She'll never understand if he doesn't just say it. He grabs her by the hand, begins kissing up her arm, and starts saying all the vulgar things he wants to do to her so there is no way to misinterpret his meaning.

Idk if this is too specific of a request but I had to get it out of my system. If you have time and like the idea, would you flesh it out into something better please? 😚 I love your mihawk work so much!

YOU MY STAR ARE A GENIUS! THIS IS ABSOLUTE CINEMA! I LOVE IT! WHO ARE YOU? I NEED YOU! EVERYTIME YOU HAVE AN IDEA! SEND IT HERE! MY STARLING ENJOY!

𝙼𝚒𝚑𝚊𝚠𝚔 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴺˢᶠᵂ, ᵉˣᵖˡⁱᶜⁱᵗ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵉˣ, ˢᵖᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ/ᴮᴰˢᴹ ᵉˡᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ, ᵈᵒᵐⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉ/ˢᵘᵇᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐⁱᶜ, ᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵉˣ (ᶜᵘⁿⁿⁱˡⁱⁿᵍᵘˢ), ᵈⁱʳᵗʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵈᵒᵍᵍʸ ˢᵗʸˡᵉ, ᵐᵘˡᵗⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵒʳᵍᵃˢᵐˢ.

The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and distant islands into Mihawk’s study, where he sat polishing the magnificent blade of Yoru. The firelight casting long, elegant shadows. You were curled up in a plush armchair nearby, pretending to read a book but mostly just watching him. The silence was comfortable, a familiar blanket you both often shared.

He set Yoru aside with a reverence you always admired, the soft clink of steel against wood the only sound. He turned his full attention to you, his golden eyes seeming to pierce right through your casual facade. They held an intensity that always made your heart beat a little faster.

"Love," he began, his voice a low, smooth baritone that was far more potent than any wine. "Come to my bed tonight."

It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a command either. It was a statement of intent, layered with an invitation. The air crackled with an unspoken meaning you were completely oblivious to. To you, it was the most thrilling invitation you’d ever received. Dracule Mihawk, the aloof and powerful Warlord, wanted to hang out with you. Like a real friend.

Your face lit up with a brilliant, genuine smile. "Yes! I'd love to!"

He gave a slow, satisfied nod, a rare, almost imperceptible smirk gracing his lips. "Good. I will prepare things."

You practically skipped out of the room, your mind racing with excitement. A slumber party! With Mihawk! You couldn't wait to tell him about the latest gossip you'd heard in the last port, to braid his ridiculously long, black hair, to see what kind of silly face he might make if you told a really bad joke. You grabbed your favorite fluffy pillow and your most comfortable, least-sexy pajamas—a set of worn, soft cotton pants and a baggy t-shirt—and practically ran back to his chambers.

When you pushed open the heavy oak door, the scene that greeted you was straight out of a romance novel. The room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of at least a dozen candles. A path of deep red rose petals led from the door to the massive, four-poster bed. On the nightstand stood a crystal decanter of deep red wine and two elegant glasses.

Your jaw dropped. "Wow, Mihawk! This is amazing! You really went all out for our slumber party! This is so much better than the ones I used to have with my cousins!"

He was standing by the bed, having just finished arranging the petals. He turned at your voice, and the look on his face was one of utter, profound confusion. He watched you hug your pillow to your chest, saw the cartoonish print on your baggy pajamas, and heard the pure, unadulterated joy in your voice at the word "slumber party."

His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. A long, weary sigh escaped him. It was the sound of a grand, romantic strategy crumbling into dust. Of course. All his subtle courting, his carefully chosen words, the romantic ambiance—it had all sailed straight over your head. You'll never understand if he doesn't just say it.

He straightened up, a new, determined glint in his eyes. Subtlety was a wasted art. It was time for a different approach.

You were still chattering, oblivious. "I even brought my special pillow! It's the fluffiest. And look, I wore my comfy PJs so we can just relax and—"

He crossed the distance between you in three long, silent strides. He didn't say a word, simply plucked the pillow from your arms and tossed it onto a nearby chaise lounge. Then, his hand shot out and captured yours. His grip was firm, warm, and sent a jolt straight through you.

"Wha—Mihawk?" you stammered, suddenly very aware of the shift in the atmosphere.

He lifted your hand to his lips, but instead of a polite kiss, he pressed his mouth to the delicate skin of your inner wrist. His eyes, dark and burning, locked onto yours. He began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses up your arm. Each touch was a spark, each press of his lips a brand.

"Love," he murmured against your skin, his voice now a low, rough growl that vibrated through your entire body. "I think there has been a misunderstanding."

He paused, his lips hovering just above the crook of your elbow. "When I said I wanted you in my bed, this was not what I had in mind."

Your breath hitched. "It... it wasn't?"

"No," he continued, his kisses resuming their ascent up your bicep. His other hand came up to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you in place. "Let me be... clearer. I want to strip these ridiculous pajamas off your body. I want to see every inch of you, to touch you, to taste you."

Your mind went blank. The words were so direct, so vulgar, so... Mihawk.

He reached your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. "I want to lay you down on those rose petals and spread your legs wide. I want to bury my face between your thighs until you're soaking wet and screaming my name until your voice is hoarse. I want to fuck you with my tongue until you can't think straight."

He was so close now, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine.

"I want to flip you over and take you from behind, watching my cock disappear inside you over and over again. I want to feel that perfect ass of yours bouncing against my hips as I spank you until it's red and you're begging me to stop and begging me to never stop." To emphasize his point, his free hand came down in a sharp, stinging slap against your clothed rear. The unexpected jolt made you gasp. "I want to hear you beg for more as I make you mine. I want to fill you so completely that the only thing you feel for days is me."

He pulled back just enough to look you dead in the eye, his expression raw with a hunger you'd never seen before. "This is not a slumber party, love. This is me telling you exactly what I am going to do to you. All night long. There will be no mistaking my meaning now."

The world tilted on its axis. The fog in your brain finally cleared, replaced by a dizzying, electrifying current of understanding. The candles, the wine, the rose petals, the intensity in his eyes—it all clicked into place with a resounding clang. This wasn't about friendship. This was about fucking. And you wanted it. You wanted it more than you'd ever wanted anything.

Instead of speaking, you acted. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his. It was clumsy, desperate, and he met it with a feral groan, taking control instantly. His tongue plundered your mouth, claiming you, tasting you. His hands were everywhere, tearing at your baggy shirt, ripping the flimsy cotton down the middle. The sound of fabric tearing was the sweetest music.

He broke the kiss just long enough to yank the ruined shirt and your pants off, leaving you bare and trembling in the candlelight. His eyes raked over you, a predatory gleam in their depths. "Perfect," he growled. "Look at you, love. Already trembling for me. Are you going to be a good girl and take everything I give you?"

You could only nod, your voice stolen by the sheer intensity of his gaze.

"Words," he commanded, his hand coming down to smack your bare thigh. "I want to hear you."

"Yes," you choked out. "Yes, I'll be good."

"Good." He lowered his head, not wasting another second. He spread your legs with his broad shoulders, his gaze fixed on your glistening core. "Because I've been starving for this taste." He licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your folds, and your back arched off the bed. "Tell me how much you want my mouth on this pretty little cunt."

"Please, Mihawk," you begged, your hands flying to his hair. "Please, I need it."

He hummed in satisfaction, the vibration a torment against your sensitive skin. "As you wish, love." Then he devoured you. He was relentless, a man possessed, his tongue delving deep inside you before circling your clit with ruthless precision. He sucked the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue until your vision blurred.

"Fuck, Mihawk! Don't stop!" you cried out, grinding against his face.

"Stop?" he growled against you, pausing just long enough to make you whimper. "I'm not stopping until you're dripping down my chin. I want to feel you come on my tongue. Now."

His command was all it took. The coil in your belly snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. He lapped up every drop, prolonging your pleasure until you were a boneless, panting mess.

Before you could recover, he was moving. He flipped you over with surprising ease, pulling your hips up so you were on your hands and knees, your face pressed into the fragrant rose petals. "Look at this perfect ass," he murmured, his hands kneading the flesh. "I've been dreaming about seeing it all red for me."

His hand came down in a sharp, stinging slap against your bare flesh. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a delicious, searing heat that spread through your entire body.

"Ah!" you cried out, more from shock than pain.

"Count for me, love," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "I want to hear you."

"One," you gasped.

His hand came down on the other cheek, just as hard. "Two."

He continued, alternating cheeks, each spank punctuated by your breathless count. The heat built into an inferno, a throbbing ache that had you pushing back, silently begging for more. By the time he reached ten, your ass was on fire, and you were dripping wet, a puddle of need on his sheets.

"Such a good girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. He soothed your reddened skin with his palm, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the punishing blows. "Now, are you ready for my cock?"

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice muffled by the petals. "Please, Mihawk, I need it."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, the rustle of his trousers falling to the floor. Then you felt it—the thick, hot head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He teased you for a moment, sliding it through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice a raw growl. "Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you."

"Please," you begged, pushing your hips back, trying to take him in. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up, just like you said. Please, Mihawk!"

With a guttural groan, he granted your wish. He slammed into you in one powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, your body stretching deliciously to accommodate his impressive size. He gave you a moment to adjust, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew you'd have bruises tomorrow—badges of honor.

Then he began to move. He set a punishing rhythm, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. He watched himself disappear inside you, his golden eyes dark with lust.

"Look at you," he grunted, his voice strained with effort. "Taking my cock so well. Do you feel how deep I am, love?"

"Yes!" you screamed, your fingers clutching at the sheets. "So deep!"

He reached around and found your clit, his fingers rubbing tight circles as he continued to pound into you. "I want you to come again. I want to feel your pussy clench around me when you do. Come for me, now."

His command, combined with the relentless stimulation, was your undoing. Your second orgasm crashed over you, even more powerful than the first. You screamed his name as your walls convulsed around him, your body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck, yes," he roared, his rhythm faltering as your release triggered his own. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and came, spilling his hot seed into you. He collapsed on top of you, his weight a welcome, grounding pressure as you both struggled to catch your breath.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the crackling of the candles. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms and tucking you against his chest. He brushed a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle.

He tilted your chin up, his golden eyes soft in the flickering light. He leaned in and kissed you, a slow, deep, possessive kiss that was a stark contrast to the frantic fucking from moments before.

When he pulled back, a rare, genuine smile touched his lips. "So, love," he murmured, his voice a low, contented rumble. "How do you feel about slumber parties now?"

[kaivenom]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a Dracule Mihawk x vampire reader!

I always see people make Mihawk the vampire and the reader falls for him. But what if he’s lowkey a freak too. I think he’d be head over heels tripping over his feet to try and woo a Vampire. Like imagine the gothic street credit he could get. And you’re telling me that man wouldn’t be obsessed with the concept of being the dirty mortal lover to an immortal royal? I just know deep down he would have ate the twilight series up. he’s a monster “kisser” on the DL I know he is!

Mihawk with a vampire!reader HCS

Warnings: sexual tension, blood, gothic themes, mentions of sex and kinks (nothing to explicit).

Masterlist

The first time he saw you, he was instantly thrilled and attracted towards you.

He loved your style, pressence and manners... especially loved how you looked at him, as if you were going to devour him from the insides.

Your pre-relationship can be described as intense stares from across the room, stolen touches on broad daylight and chivalry and gentleness with a twisted dark side.

Once you started seeing where this was going and that you also started liking a little too much this mans attention (not only as a snack but more like a companion), you decided to tell him about your condition.

You expected him to be grossed out or afraid and forgotten by him, but the reality was that he was ever more determinated to be with you.

Deep down Mihawk wes living his best life, he always wanted to meet a vampire but also being with one? he was thrilled and also a little embarrased about his excitement to be your prey and most devoted server.

Fast enough, everything turned into passionate desire, desperation to be with the other and a hint of obssesion.

It was not even about having sex, it was about yoru lives being in the hands of the other.

All culminated when you were about to bite Mihawk's neck on a particular hungry night for you.

He indulged and soon enough was fully hipnotized by your fangs.

You were a little afraid of hurting him but all in him said the opossite so you continued.

After that you both had the best sex of your lifes and from that moment you both were together always.

Everytime you bite his neck, all his body shakes, his voice shatters and his heart starts racing to much.

He will deny it but he whimpers a little, and he loves it everytime.

He entangles his fingers on your hair to keep you in place, biting and kissing his neck.

You always lick the wound as a small way to say sorry and he can't take his eyes out of you.

He gifted you a victorian umbrella so you could go outside in daylight and you love to take walks with him.

Many people stare at you both when you are out, both of your styles are really striking.

But your favourite walks are around woods, churchs or the cemeteries when fog or drizzles are around.

He loves when you smile and your fangs show up, he finds it really cute.

You love carresing his hair and accompany him in silence, just focused on your tasks and being with the other.

Whenever someone says something bad about you, Mihawk takes off his sword for fighting and you melt for him.

You both start exploring more kinks and getting risky, but your comunication works really well cause you both have some really weird non verbal telepathy.

On public some people get scared about how you both look at each other but you are having a full conversation.

You both love staying up late at night, him with a glass of wine and you with a glass of blood from your reserve (Mihawk sometimes gets a little of his blood on your drink and you sense it).

After a decade together, you decided to turn him and he could finally fullfill his fantasy of biting you, but he was still submissive to your fangs.

[gicosmo]

—Strawberry Proposal Mihawk x Reader

Synopsis: Mihawk’s gardening skills paid off this season, just in time for valentine’s day! Using his strawberries, he plans a proposal just for you… Hopefully nobody ruins it.

Kuraigana island was quiet as usual, a cool breeze of the muggy land was consistent throughout the days. Inside the castle, Mihawk was putting his skilled hands to work. His brow quirked slightly as he dipped the ripe strawberry into the bowl of melted chocolate.

Valentine’s day wasn’t something Mihawk had been interested in since he came to know about the holiday. Sure, the meaning behind the day was cute and all, but that didn’t mean he’d participate in such a day…

Until you came along.

Mihawk’s mindset immediately snapped out of that thought process, growing to love you was one of the highlights of his life. He grew to know you, all of you. Your body language, the way to enunciate your words, the swarming thoughts that occupy your head. The swordsman loved everything about you.

“Oooh!! Strawberries!!” A familiar high pitched voice sounded from behind the swordsman, making him sigh slightly. “Perona, I thought I advised you and Roronoa to leave for the day.” Mihawk grumbled as he dipped the strawberries into the bowl of melted chocolate, not paying any mind to the ghost lady floating around him.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna stick around here while you swoon your partner.” Perona waved her hand dismissively, eyeing the strawberries. Mihawk immediately cocked his head towards her, “Don’t even think about grabbing one.”

A pout formed on her face as she moped, “Fine! Whatever! I didn’t want your stupid strawberries anyway… They look so plain and ugly. How about some cute designs or something!” Perona huffed as she made her way out of the kitchen, complaining to the stuffed animal in her hand.

Mihawk looked down at the strawberries that were already coated with chocolate, Perona was indeed right. They were plain. He couldn’t allow that, you deserved better than simple chocolate covered strawberries.

The day consisted of decorating everything within the castle. Beautiful flowers everywhere, paper cut hearts(with the unwanted help of Perona, of course) hung around the walls, and of course a well crafted dinner that Mihawk had prepared of your favorite foods.

The front doors creaked open, you appearing before him with your hands full of bags, “I’m back! You were right about that island having the wine we wanted.” You smiled up at him as you placed down the bags, Mihawk not wasting a moment as his lips found your cheek.

“You were safe while traveling, yes?” Mihawk asked, his voice gentle, the gentleness only reserved for your ears. “Of course I was. You’re the one who’s always so insistent I take my boat on certain paths.” Your eyes slowly look around, taking in the new decor of your shared home. Of course Mihawk was going to do something special for you, his heart and soul might as well have belonged to you.

Mihawk cleared his throat, “I’ve prepared dinner. Come, sit.” His hands went to the small of your back, leading you to the dining table. It could’ve been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn you felt his fingers slightly shake. Mihawk wasn’t one to be nervous, especially around you.

“Holy shit, these are all my favorites.” You laugh to yourself, more out of shock than amusement. Mihawk lets out a small huff of a chuckle, “You still have such a filthy mouth, even after all this time.”

“You know exactly who you fell in love with.” You reminded him with a smile. That smile he always craved to see.

“Indeed I do.” Mihawk pulled your chair out, watching you sit as he made his way over to his side. You both ate in comfortable silence, and it warmed your heart every time.

Swirling his wineglass in hand, Mihawk speaks, “The garden’s strawberries came out beautifully this time,” His eyes are focused on you as he slides over a heart shaped box, “I coated them in chocolate if you’d wish to try them.”

“Someone seems proud about their gardening skills.” You tease as you open the box, lid dropping from your hands on to the table as you stare wide eyed at the strawberries.

It wasn’t just strawberries.

There was a ring. A beautiful diamond ring.

“We’ve been together for five years. In all honesty, I’m quite disappointed in myself for not doing this earlier,” Mihawk stands, slowly making his way to your side, slowly dipping down to be on one knee,

“You’ve taken my life completely into yours. My days are much brighter, my nights are less lonely. I crave your presence like one craves water. In all honesty, I can’t see myself living without you.” Mihawk takes your hand in his, his fingers slightly twitching from nerves,

“I can say so much, but I would rather put my feelings into one grand gesture. Would you… Do me the honor of becoming mine. Become my other half, my love. My soul. My everything. May I take your hand in marriage.”

“Mihawk… I—” “OH EM GEEEEE!!!!”

Both you and Mihawk’s heads snapped towards the high pitched squeal, seeing two familiar faces peeping on you both.

“Would you keep it down?” The green haired swordsman shoved the pink haired woman slightly.

“Don’t push me!! I’m trying to see if his partner said yes to the marriage proposal or not!!” Perona whacked Zoro’s head, making the green haired man grumble about how annoying she was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a loud genuine one, “Are they a part of this as well?” Mihawk clicked his tongue slightly, “Absolutely not… I told those fools to leave…”

Hands still intertwined with his, your thumb gently rubbed circles along his palm, “I would love to marry you, Mihawk.” His hawk like eyes immediately snapped to yours, a hint of vulnerability in the depths of his orbs,

Taking the ring from the heart shaped box, he slid it onto your ring finger.

“OH MY GOSH, THEY’RE MARRIED!!!” Perona squeezed, not even attempting to hide the fact that she was snooping.

Zoro groaned slightly, shaking his head in utter disappointment, “Perona, SHUT UP.”

“You both will be dealt with after today.” Mihawk spoke up, simply shrugging as he took you away to your shared room, leaving both Perona and Zoro stunned by his words.

“Fuck… He’s gonna hide all the alcohol again…” Zoro sighed, already feeling regret seeping in.

“He’s gonna stash all the hot cocoa!! No!!” Perona cried, regretting not listening to Mihawk’s words of leaving for the day.

[rae-pss]

hei, rae... Any headcannon for dracule mihawk (one piece ) x fem wife Jessica type of reader? Please...feel free to ignored this request darling, love your work ~

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ RAE'S NOTE. i do hope you meant jessica rabbit with that "jessica", or i may cry (joking in that last part). i think i've never specified the gender of the reader, i fear (;-;). i hope you enjoy the read, lovely. thanks for requesting something about this brooding vampir-esque gothic man (<3).

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ pairing. drcule mihawk × jessica rabbit! reader

mihawk with a jessica-rabbit-coded partner

—To begin with, Dracule Mihawk always present himself as someone in control, both of his expressions and his surroundings. Even so, he notices the countless things his beloved does: the sway of your walk, the way others stare, the confidence you radiate. He may not react bluntly when you walk into a room, but that's because he simply refuses to give anyone, other than you, the satisfaction of seeing him flustered at your mere presence.

❝You're distracting,❞ he murmured in private, trying not to bring further attention to the tender flush on his pale cheeks.

—As it's said: opposittes attract. And you two make it clear. He's someone stoic, razor‑sharp and certainly economical with words; while you're expressive, warm, flirtatious and theatrical. Together? A perfect balance, where you soften the edges of his solitude, he grounds you when the world gets too loud.

—Let's be honest, Mihawk is terrifyingly protective over you, that's without being possesive. He's aware your beauty draws attention, which he doesn't mind. But if someones crosses a line? He simply looks at them with those piercing eyes of his. And suddenly that person remembers they have somewhere else to be. What a coincidence, isn't it?

—You're the only one who can make this man laugh, genuely so. It isn't a big one, he doesn't do those, but you get the rare, quiet chuckle. The exact one that makes his shoulders relax and his eyes soften. Tease him about it, and he'll give in recompense some of his own.

—Mihawk’s castle is all stone, candles and swords. Simple but effective for him. However, you bring in velvet, warm lighting and a touch of red everywhere you go. It feels like gothic met old-hollywood glamour, you know? He pretends he doesn’t care about the new décor, but he absolutely notices when you rearrange anything around your home.

❝It's strategically placed,❞ he commented once after you hanged a portrait of yourself on the main hall. It wasn't. He just adores seeing your face. He's that whipped.

—Nevertheless, it isn't your flirtatious personality or gorgeous looks that called him, not at all. It's your devotion to him, the one you love, what won him over. That loyalty is what he respects most. After all, he values sincerity and commitment above all else. You love him loudly, he loves you quietly. Yet, the same depth is shared between you two.

[spark-canon-spark]

☆Gardener☆

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Dracule Mihawk x gn! Reader,

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- To find someone on the grandline that didnt know about pirates was strange, to find someone in the new world that didnt know about pirates or marines? Even stranger,

- And yet, Mihawk, in his sails, had managed to come across the small island of Sundrexa, an island whose rocky waters were littered with sea spikes, the island that ate the Urchin Urchin no mi,

- Marines and Pirates avoided these waters, many in the past have tried to move through because well, there must be treasure or even a poneglyph for an island to be so territorial over its small land mass core,

- But all Mihawk finds? Is a farm. Vegetable patches, vibrant with fresh produce, chickens squabbling, ducks swimming with geese in the pond by one of the fields, cattle grazing, and then...you,

- Untouched by the wars at sea, as you tend to the crops, how long had you been on this island, it isnt hard to figure out that you probably couldn't leave due to the Urchin islands protective spikes,

-"Hello?" Comes your voice as your head snaps up when you hear footsteps, shock in your expression that you can actually see another person, your straw hat slightly falls from your head before you quickly catch it,

- over the next few weeks, Mihawk stays with you, the solitude here, the peace of simple farming, even a warlord can admit that its much more peaceful here, if only his work was so quiet,

- Over the past weeks, Mihawk has helped you with cooking your own Jam and other recipes, everything is fresh from the farm, totally self sufficient, well, youd have to be because there was no way a merchants ship would cross these waters,

- The bees were Mihawks favourite part, their stingers reminded him of Yoru's black blade, sleek and dangerous, with only one sting ir well slice needed to cause someone immeasurable pain,

"Theres a new queen thats being born. Would you like to name her?" You'd asked one day, holding the giant queen bee on your finger, making sure to hold a flower by her. The other bees buzzed around you, vibrating the air.

"Yoru" Mihawk answers and you nod, smiling.

"Thats a wonderful name"

- Mihawk never tells anyone where he goes, no marines, no coworkers, not even Perona, this quiet peace is his...and to be true to himself? He loves your farm,

- Every so often, Mihawks ship sails through Sundrexa, the sea spikes calming more and more each time, befofe reinforcing as soon as Mihawks boat docks,

- Sometimes Mihawk even brings things for you. Things that you might not hace ever had, or new recipes,

- And maybe you manage to make the great dracule mihawk smile as you weave a pitch black strawhat for him, making sure to embroider a small golden handle of a certain blade into the inside of it,

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2026 by Spark-Canon-Spark. Any and all works cannot be used, edited or republished without the creators permission!

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[lizardboiii]

Tongue Tied┃One Piece

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark and empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

・❥・

│cw: 18+, SFW, violent undertones, time skip galore

│wc: 6.1K

│chapters: I II III IV

│notes: Finally, the romance is kinda beginning :))) AO3 link now takes you to a brand new work I made specifically for this work since it's getting so long.

│AO3 Link!

・❥・

│Chapter III: Voice of God

Mihawk’s temperament had practically flipped overnight.

No longer were the days of chasing the towering man around for scraps of attention. He met you willingly. His imposing form would stalk the halls, heels clicking not in impatience — but purpose.

His patterned coat lofted through the air with poised intention. Slicing past empty corridors and decadent solariums.

Head high. 

Golden eyes narrowed. 

Mihawk roamed with conviction, silently baiting out his latest intrigue. Origins clad with obscurities. A mind rife with intangibles. 

The one who spoke Poneglyph.

It wasn’t a matter of if he’d find you — but when. You’d feel the chill in the air before you saw him. Sharp and icy. It consumed your boudoir, drowning out any warmth the fireplace painstakingly brought.

Then, like clockwork, he’d enter soundlessly. He offered no room for respite. His presence, not demanding, but expecting obedience.

It was compliance you readily gave.

You followed behind him cheerfully, the soles of your feet tracing along paths you had already memorized. The route was practiced till polished. 

Clean.

Precise.

Predictable.

Soon enough, you were coaxed into Mihawk’s study. Language books were already sprawled across his desk. Some were from previous lessons, pencil lead tarnishing elementary level exercises. The remainder were new. Their stacked bindings pristine and unbroken.

From Japanese to English, French to Spanish, Mihawk attempted to dismantle the web of inconsistencies that surrounded your language.

You didn’t understand it. Your mind twisted and contorted around itself as you pieced three languages together just to acquire one term.

It was frustrating — maddening even.

Out of all the books the library sheltered, why wasn’t there a single direct translation guide for your language?

It took longer than you thought to find out.

After weeks of grueling hard work, you had finally managed to match up your alphabet to Mihawk’s. The translation was rough. It led to more misunderstandings than you cared to admit. 

But finally…

“Your persons call my language Poneglyph?”

You could speak to Mihawk somewhat freely.

“People,” he corrected your grammar, “But yes.”

Mihawk leaned back into his study chair, fingers lightly tapping the varnish of his desk. His golden eyes devoured you. Yet, not in the carnal desire of flesh. 

No — he watched you like a man starved of knowledge. 

He hid nothing. You could easily see all he wanted to do was pick you apart. To tear answers straight from the source. Consume the concealed. 

You’d wager he wasn’t fond of secrets.

The drumming of his fingers abruptly stopped, “Your language has only been discovered in writing. In all honesty, it never occurred to me that people could speak it.”

You mulled over his pragmatic statement. As far as you were concerned, your language was fairly common. Easily identifiable to most. There wasn’t a single person on your island who was illiterate or mute.

“My people is frequent travelers,” you spoke slowly, feeling out the unfamiliar syllables, “How possible to disappear my language?”

Mihawk hummed. The sound was less of an agreement and more of a consideration. 

“I’m not quite sure,” He scratched his chin in thought, pondering your unrefined vocabulary, “Your island – is it located in the New World?”

You blinked at him, “New World?”

Assuming there was a translation error, Mihawk reiterated his point in your native tongue, "𝙸𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍?"

Mihawk’s rendition did little to quell your confusion. Brows still pulled tight, you stared at him as if he had grown another head. 

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍?"

This time, it was Mihawk’s turn to be confused. Not knowing about the New World was like not knowing the primary colors. It was basic information even children knew.

With a grunt, Mihawk reached for one of his desk’s lower drawers. The mahogany wood slid open easily. Its metal latch clinked softly against its resting place once Mihawk released it.

From the depths of the drawer, Mihawk pulled out a large map. Stained and weathered, the old paper looked like an ancient relic. You were surprised it didn’t crumble under his touch.

Placing it gently on top of his desk, Mihawk’s hands carefully spread out the fragile chart. It bloomed open easily. Though aged, what was revealed was exquisite. 

Mountains bumped forth while valleys and rivers flowed in. If you looked closely enough, the sea itself seemed to surge across the paper. 

You stared at the map inquisitively. Head cocked to the side, you tried to find any land masses that looked remotely familiar. 

Mihawk tapped a finger just above the Red Line, “This is the New World.”

Pulling your eyes away from the East Blue, you followed Mihawk’s finger. Abruptly, an involuntary snort escaped you. You were quick to cover your mouth, trying to shove down the laughter that was bubbling inside of you.

“That–” You stifled a giggle, “That is not the New World!”

Mihawk furrowed his brow, “No?”

You smiled brightly, “Is you doing a joke? Is that why you have the wrong date written on the map?”

Your laughter died down when you noticed the serious expression on Mihawk’s face. Scratching the back of your head, you cleared your throat, “Is you not doing a joke?”

“No.”

Mihawk’s voice made you sit up straight. His tone incontestable. The decision final. 

It reigned with unquestionable authority, forcibly reminding you of your place. 

One that was beneath him.

Mihawk was a man who danced with steel while you merely mingled with seclusion. A waltzer and a wallflower. The two were nowhere near the same.

Chewing your lip, you stared at him with anxious perplexity, “Then, why is the date 800 years wrong?”

The room flooded with silence. You both seemed to be waiting out the other, hoping someone would admit they were dishonest. However, after an agonizing minute of impenetrable stillness, you came to the shared conclusion…

Neither of you was lying.

You broke first. Slumping into your hands, you tried to rationalize the year written on the elaborate chart. It couldn’t be true. There was no way the tempest that capsized your boat washed you up on shore 800 years in the future — alive, no less.

“𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗,” You practically begged Mihawk,  “𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝟾𝟶𝟶 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜!”

Poised as ever, Mihawk overlooked your hysterical desperation as he stood up from his cushioned chair. You watched him with bated breath. Eyes glossy.

Mihawk’s long legs carried him across the room at an almost methodical pace. He looked all the executioner you were certain he was.

Chest tight. 

Palms sweaty. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when Mihawk went for the liquor cabinet instead of the sword mounted on the wall.

Pulling out a bronze bottle of Tempranillo, Mihawk casually poured the red wine into two chalices. His heavy hand undoubtedly emptied more alcohol than you were accustomed to.

“𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗,” Mihawk gingerly handed you the intoxicant, “How exactly did you end up on my isle?” 

・❥・

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks periodically, burning thin lines into your sensitive skin. The salty droplets stung harshly. It was a starch reminder of your own humanity.

Weeping pitifully, you tried and failed to contain the sorrow that leaked from your soul. 

After multiple re-tellings and frantic fact checks, the reality was undeniable. The anomaly of a storm you encountered had been far from natural. Somehow, you had been sent into the future. 

And you had no idea how to get back.

It felt like a cruel joke. You had finally made progress with earning a twinge of Mihawk’s trust and, in doing so, assistance to get home. Only to have your hopes squashed by time travel gone wrong. 

Just what divine being had you offended? 

Sniffling, you flinched when Mihawk suddenly wiped a stray tear from your eye. His thick thumb felt warm against your skin, soothing the inflammation. 

Unconsciously, you leaned into his surprisingly gentle touch. And just for a moment — you forgot what that very hand was capable of.

“Quit your crying,” Mihawk’s knuckles rested on your cheek for a moment, “It won’t do you any good.”

You whimpered softly, “How am I to get home?”

Releasing you, Mihawk leaned against his desk, “The castle’s library is vast. I’m certain there is a book regarding chrononautics.”

Though half of Mihawk’s complex words didn’t register in your brain, you nodded enthusiastically. The castle’s archive of books was massive. It took over most of the eastern wing. If there was any information on temporal displacement, it would be there.

Sliding out of your seat, you hyped yourself up, “𝚆𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗!”

Unexpectedly, Mihawk followed you out of his study with little resistance. His longer legs overtook your smaller strides, leading you toward the fortress’s eastern side.

The library was more extravagant than you remembered. Thick pillars of stone jetted up from the floor, climbing high into the air. They connected ornate footbridges across the width of the room. From which silks and satins hung off effortlessly. 

Below, regal bookshelves stacked tall on one another. Soaring up through the banisters. Their carved dark wood was illuminated by the massive windows cut sparingly into the walls.

You stood in awe for a moment before a sense of dread washed over you. It would take a lifetime to search every bookshelf. They were stacked so steep you had to use multiple ladders just to reach the top.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

Mihawk’s silky voice pulled you from your inner turmoil. He sat cross-legged on one of the colossal windowsills, a stack of books already sorted through next to him.

A wide grin tugged at your lips, “Nope!”

You skipped over to a random shelf. Newfound determination in hand, you began plucking books from their dusty resting place. 

Though most of the literature was written in Mihawk’s native language, you were able to spot familiar glyphs quickly. Any book you were unsure about was swiftly added to Mihawk’s growing pile.

Thus, Operation Goldy’s Library Labyrinth was born!

・❥・

“What will you do when I’m not here anymore?”

“Enjoy the peace and quiet.”

You ignored Mihawk’s blunt response, wiggling your eyebrows teasingly, “You won’t miss me? Even just a little?”

Mihawk sighed, “At the rate we’re going, I’ll be dead of old age before you leave.”

You laughed loudly at Mihawk’s words. He wasn’t wrong in the slightest. You had been trapped on Mihawk’s island for officially six months. It was hard to believe half a year had passed since you washed ashore.

Operation Goldy’s Library Labyrinth originally started three months ago. Unfortunately, it still felt like you had barely made a dent in the dense literature foliage. Though lacking literacy in Mihawk’s dialect certainly didn’t help.

As a result, when you weren’t practicing phonetics or sorting through bookshelves, you took turns with Mihawk, teaching each other how to read. Mihawk was quick to learn. His eyes danced across your handwriting excitedly as if he deciphered a secret code.

You, on the other hand, were far slower. In full transparency, it was Mihawk’s fault. You couldn’t help but prefer to listen to him read the books he brought than recite them on your own. 

Today happened to be one of those days.

You sat next to Mihawk as he read aloud to you, resting your head on his shoulder. His baritone voice carried across the courtyard. 

“A man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far enjoys even his sufferings after a time…”

Your eyes closed without you meaning to. It was the second time you requested Mihawk to read The Odyssey. You couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Odysseus’ 10-year journey home felt a lot like your own story — minus the mythical beings, of course. Though you weren’t entirely sure Mihawk didn’t count.

“Aren’t you supposed to be following along?”

You jumped at Mihawk’s sudden attention. Opening your eyes lazily, you threw him a dopey smile, “I was just resting my eyes.”

Mihawk scowled, “Then you wouldn’t mind finishing the page?”

You had little time to refuse Mihawk’s request before he placed the thick epic into your open palms. It weighed heavy in your hands. Stanzas of love, loss, and regret felt a lot less metaphorical when accompanied by lived experience. 

Defeated, you reluctantly began to read down the page you found far too prolix. 

Your meek voice sounded a lot less elegant than Mihawk’s. Stumbling over words and mixing up sentences, your own struggles gave you second hand embarrassment.

Yet, the raven remained patient. He guided you along the page, helping you recognize important symbols and words. The moment felt domestic. Like you had been living with Mihawk for a lifetime rather than only half a year.

“Do you think there’s a windbag that could take me home, Mi-Mi?”

Mihawk sighed, “Would you even be able to keep it closed?”

Slapping the book on your lap closed, you raised your fists, “Of course! I bet if I were Odysseus, I would get home way quicker!”

“Really?” A rough rumble left Mihawk’s throat, “But you're still stuck here.”

You frowned, “You're not wrong, all we’ve really done is sort through stupid books.”

A light bulb suddenly went off in your brain. Spinning your body toward Mihawk, you placed your hands on his thigh as you looked up at him, “So maybe it’s time for a change of plan!”

Mihawk’s brow arched, “That is?”

Grinning ear to ear, you swung your arm out toward the distant sea, “We try to replicate the time storm.” Your optimistic fingers slowly traced the horizon, "Think about it as our own scientific study. We could write our own dumb book!”

You could feel Mihawk’s eyes on the side of your face, drilling into you. Though the presence was familiar, you still found yourself hesitant to look back at him. 

He made you…nervous.

Yet, it wasn’t the usual fearful unease that creeped up your spine. Nor was it a guilt ridden churn in your stomach.

It was something new. Something unfamiliar.

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but recently — Mihawk began to stir butterflies.

The aforementioned man remained passive next to you. His arms spread wide on the bench’s back rest, commanding the space. He looks all the parts of a dangerous man.

It made your heart leap.

Finally removing his gaze from you, Mihawk scanned the sea with his bright eyes, “And what happens if I get stuck with you?”

“Then,” You bumped shoulders with him, “I’d find a way to get you home too!”

You were concerned when Mihawk only responded with silence. His strong jaw locked tight. Eerie eyes lingering on the swelling waters.

Assuming he had rejected your idea, you dejectedly strolled back toward the castle’s library for another round of endless searching.

However, when you woke up the following morning to Mihawk readying his ship, you couldn’t contain the excitement that filled you.

Thus, Operation Time Typhoon began!

・❥・

“𝚆𝙾𝙰𝙷!”

You pulled back on your large fishing rod, reeling in the massive fish on its hook. The titanic goldfish thrashed in the air. Its spotted body curved against the sky, casting a dark shadow onto the ship's deck.

“Mi-Mi! Check out this huuuggee fish!”

Mihawk merely opened one of his closed eyes, grunted, then reclosed it. You easily shrugged off his dismissive behavior, choosing to watch the mega fish dive back into the clear water.

“So cool,” you whispered more so to yourself as you leaned over the side of the ship. 

You watched closely as the goldfish’s hues of orange and white slowly disappeared below the surface, hiding beneath the waves. 

“Can you believe how big that sucker was?” You turned back to Mihawk, sticking up two of your fingers, “It was like twice the size of your boat!”

Mihawk remained unimpressed. His extended legs were loosely intertwined while his exposed upper body soaked in the afternoon sun. He treated the event as if it was any other ordinary fish.

“If it takes a mere fish to impress you, we can always sail toward the Calm Belt.”

You shuddered at the thought of running into a Sea King on Mihawk’s tiny boat, “I’d rather not rush to my death.”

Mihawk chuckled lightly. 

The rich sound made your stomach flip, cheeks already threatening to redden. You turned around quickly. Hand clenched on your chest, you fixated on the crashing waves as you tried to quell the way your heartbeat sped up.

It’s been an entire year since you’ve been sling shotted into the future.

And if that wasn’t enough to frustrate you. 

It had become glaringly obvious that your previous interest in the man had morphed into a definitive fixation. 

You really did try to stop it. Did your best to think of Mihawk as some wild animal you managed to tame. But life has a way of constantly screwing you over.

Mihawk, for all his abrasive and stoic tendencies, was sweet. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when he took his time teaching you. His sinful voice would imprint on your brain and leak into your dreams. Your bed sheets begged for a break.

However, you blamed yourself for how comfortable you got with him. You were naturally sociable. It was second nature to be touchy and friendly with the man — even when he made it very clear he didn’t reciprocate it.

Nevertheless, you stuck close to him. 

He was all you had. 

You promised yourself you’d never forget him once you got home. Even if it took years, you’d find a way to speak with him again. Maybe one day he could even visit.

Chewing your lip, you laughed quietly to yourself. Your friends would be so jealous that you managed to bring home a man so handsome. You’d have to show him off to the whole village.

“What could you possibly be laughing about over there?”

Praying your cheeks weren’t flushed, you smiled back at Mihawk, “Just thinking about how that goldfish would’ve tasted for dinner!”

“You wanted it for dinner?” Mihawk didn’t wait for your response before he started to shrug off his outer coat.

You watched him curiously, “What are you-”

Your eyes bulged out of your head as Mihawk suddenly dove into the calm waters. 

“𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴?!”

Stumbling over yourself, you rushed over to the side of the boat he jumped from. Your hands clenched the railing tightly. Your knuckles white. 

Peering into the blue depths, you shrieked when something slammed down onto the deck behind you. The ship rocked violently. You barely caught yourself before your own momentum threw you overboard.

Facing the sudden raucous, you felt your jaw hit the floor. Mihawk casually sat perched upon a mountain of perfectly sliced fish meat. 

Legs crossed. Face unbothered.

Picking up your open mouth, you weeded your hands through your hair in excitement, “No way! You killed that fish underwater?!”

You ran around the chopped fish in a frenzy, “And you cut it up too!” Wild laughter ripped from your throat as you inspected the immaculate cuts, “You have to be some sort of sword genius, Mi-Mi!”

Mihawk’s lips twitched slightly. But not in their normal irritation fashion. No — For a rare moment his full lips tugged into an amused smile.

You’d give anything to see it again.

“We should head back before the ship starts to stink,” Mihawk hopped down from the fish’s peak. “This should keep us fed for a while.”

You saluted him, “Aye, aye, Captain!”

The ship’s black sails unfurled with a satisfying woosh. They caught the steady wind immediately, puffing out like giant parachutes. 

The trip home was quick. Easy. Rehearsed.

Day in and day out, you rode the current as often as you could. Yet in all the time you had been marooned, not a single storm had been strong enough to jostle Mihawk’s boat, let alone capsize it.

Still, you tried to remain hopeful. You were nearing the end of Operation Goldly’s Library Labyrinth. Only a few more rows of bookshelves remained. With no information on time travel in sight, you had to rely on the chance of another time storm brewing overhead. 

Chances were low. But the chances were even lower if you just gave up.

As the ship docked, you jumped down onto the damp sand with a muted thump. Tomorrow was a new day. You’d go out looking for trouble in the morning. 

For now…

“You can start tossing!”

You weren’t focusing on anything other than Mihawk.

“Try to keep the slices off the sand.”

You smiled, “Got it!”

・❥・

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Mihawk was trying to kill you through gluttony.

Immaculately filet fish garnished with lemon sat in the center of the table. Surrounding the feast, bowels of roasted vegetables and platters of citrus-filled delicacies begged for attention. 

The spread was fit for a king. You weren’t sure where to even start.

“I already feel full from looking at it,” The words slipped from your tongue without you realizing.

Mihawk hummed, “Better overfed then under.”

Rather than sitting across from the raven, you sat in one of the chairs next to his at the head of the table. His gaudy throne made your tiny chair seem feeble. Yet, you didn’t mind. You preferred his company over petty chair drama.

Pointing your fork at him, you winked, “Wise words as always, Mi-Mi.”

You didn’t bother waiting for a response you weren’t expecting. Stacking your plate high, you threw about just as much food as you could on the porcelain. 

While you ate like a hurricane, Mihawk remained refined. His meticulous hands handled silverware with cunning precision. You wondered if the knife he cradled felt like a miniature sword to him.

“I…was— thinking,” Your words garbled together as you attempted to chew and talk.

“Swallow before you speak.”

You forced down the food in your mouth, “I was thinking maybe we should sail out at night tomorrow.” You fiddled with the fork in your hand, “The waters are usually rougher then, maybe something will be different.”

“Unfortunately…”

Mihawk paused for a moment – but a moment too long. It was just enough for you to smell blood. He reeked of uncharacteristic hesitation. 

“I have matters to attend to,” Mihawk ghosted the rim of his glass to his lips, forgoing indulgence, “I’ll be leaving the island tomorrow for some time.”

The wind whistled against the castle’s exterior, hushing the room. Though it only lasted a few seconds, you felt as though another year had passed.

Your fork dropped violently, “Leaving?!” 

Mihawk nodded, “For a few days at most.”

“Were you not planning on telling me?” Food long forgotten, you pestered Mihawk for his sudden betrayal, “I can’t believe this!”

You sighed, “Alright it’s decided.”

Mihawk watched you curiously. His slender fingers pinched the stem of his glass, swirling the ruby liquid.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?!” You threw your hands up in dramatics, “I’ve been stuck here with barely anything to do for a year! If the mission’s on pause, I at least wanna see what’s become of the world after 800 years.”

You could see the beginnings of frustration morphing onto Mihawk’s face. His aureate eyes sharpened. Spine straightened. If his sword had been nearby, you were sure his hand would have instinctively went for it. 

“Someone affiliated with the Void Century should be nowhere near the World Government — let alone Mariejois.”

You groaned, “I don’t even know what the Void Century is.”

Mihawk placed his stemware down like a gavel, “Exactly.”

Realizing begging wasn’t going to work, you switched over to bargaining with a dash of guilt tripping.

“I swear I won’t do or say anything that will get you in trouble. You won’t even know I’m there!” You clasped your hands together, “I haven’t had any human contact with anyone other than you — I’m going crazy!”

“Solitude is far more enjoyable than the company of mindless oafs squabbling for power.”

You refused to let up, “I promise to do whatever you say for a month.”

“You promise to start doing the dishes, wash the laundry, and learn to read properly?”

“I shouldn’t have promised.”

Mihawk rubbed his temple, “I can assure you, there is no one worth your time where I am going.”

“Then,” you sorted through different ideas, “What if we didn’t go to the same place?”

Your words caught Mihawk’s attention. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms as he watched you intently. His eyes screamed with indifference but you could see the slight twitch in his lip awaiting your scheme. 

He was interested. 

And you were all the more happy to oblige.

“Before you go to whatever Mariejois is,” you leaned forward vivaciously, “Drop me off at an island nearby. And while you're handling your mysterious business, I can get out and have some fresh air!”

You could see the gears turning in Mihawk’s brain. He took a second to respond. Most likely already regretting his next words.

“You can leave with me on a few conditions.”

You nodded your head enthusiastically, “Those are?”

He held up a finger, “One — you are not to write, speak, or make it known you have any knowledge regarding Poneglyphs.”

A second finger joined the first, “Two — avoid making a scene. Lay low. And don’t offend anyone high ranking.”

He raised a final finger, “Three — we will choose a meeting point tomorrow. I expect you to be there on time when I get back or you can consider yourself marooned once again.”

You smirked, “Sounds like a piece of cake.”

・❥・

Though you acted tough in front of Mihawk, you couldn’t help the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach. It stirred you awake ruthlessly. 

Your skin felt clammy, and your mouth dry. 

No matter how much you tossed and turned, you couldn’t force yourself back to sleep. Worries ran rampant throughout your mind. 

What if you weren’t as fluent as you thought? What if everyone saw right through you? Would Mihawk be mad if people realized you were from another time?

Yet the most damning question on your mind was, ‘𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎?’

You drifted down the countless corridors, trailing your fingers along the walls. It was already well past midnight. Dim candle lighting faintly guided your way, drawing you deeper into the castle’s depths.

Without realizing it, you reached the closed doors of Mihawk’s bedchamber.

Your feet shifted hesitantly. You pulled this stunt only a few times before, never really expecting it to work out. Yet, every time, without fail, Mihawk never turned you away. His reasons you weren’t exactly sure of. But you were grateful nonetheless.

Your hand slid across the thick wooden doors, feeling over the carved paneling. Cautiously, you moved to turn one of the crystal knobs. The door began to open painfully slow. You tried your best to minimize the small creak the door usually produced.

Finally entering the room, the hall behind you casted a thin sliver of light across the floor. The soft glow just barely illuminated Mihawk’s bed in the center of the room.

Gently closing the door, you padded across the stone flooring. The ground chilled the soles of your feet. It made climbing into Mihawk’s bed a lot easier of a choice.

Your hands sunk into the plush mattress beneath you, dipping the bed slightly. You weren’t surprised by the soft grunt that followed. Throwing the crimson duvet over your shoulders, you snuggled into the side of a half-awake Mihawk.

On cue, the older man wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his bare chest. You let your palm rest on his sculpted build. Your eyes absentmindedly watching the way your hand rose and fell with his exhales.

While he smelled of pine, the lingering scent of steel just barely clung to his skin. You basked in it. These scents you had grown so accustomed to, offered you more than simple comfort.

As you expected, all the earlier apprehensions you felt melted away. For all the home you lost. You gained a new one with Mihawk. That was more than enough for you.

Mihawk’s hand shifting away from your waist startled you. Your eyes fought against the opaque night, trying to find the missing limb. You felt cold without his touch. Unbearably exposed. 

Sluggishly, Mihawk’s rough palm moved to cover your open eyes. The heat of his calloused hand warmed your chilled skin.

“𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙.”

You groaned softly, “𝚃𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐.”

Mihawk turned his body to the side, thick arms capturing you between them. His unclad chest felt firm against your back. Yet, all you could focus on was how he effortlessly slotted his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“𝚃𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛.”

Mihawk’s voice sent vibrations down your nape. You bit your lip hard, fighting back any embarrassing noises. It was moments like these you wondered if Mihawk carried the same infatuation you did. Though maybe it was best that he never cared to act on them. 

You had a family. 

You had friends. 

You couldn’t just up and abandon them. 

You had to go home.

Clutching onto Mihawk’s arm, you nuzzled further into him. You forced your figure to remember the feeling of his body. To memorize the way his arms slotted perfectly into your own.

Shamefully, you had started to think Mihawk belonged to you.

But he wasn’t yours to keep. 

Mihawk belonged here. You didn’t.

“𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, Mi-Mi.”

・❥・

Sabaody Archipelago.

You remembered the name in a few faint memories — but you never expect the place to look like this.

The island wasn’t even an island. It was a colossal mangrove forest that seemed to stretch on for miles. Mihawk had briefly mentioned there were seventy-nine trees in total, each designated with their own numeric value.

Spinning around in place, you gawked at the gigantic bubbles just over the horizon. Their tinge of purple and blue shone bright against the burning sun. The refraction seemed to make the sky glitter.

You could barely believe this place was real.

“Careful,” Mihawk grabbed your shoulder, keeping you in place. “This place may seem harmless but there's a darker underbelly right under your nose.”

You nodded in agreement but continued to rubberneck at just about everything, “This place is incredible.”

“And dangerous,” Mihawk added.

Following closely behind the raven, you peeked around his shoulder when he came to a halt. In front of you, a small shop had been carved out into a massive tree branch. Flashy banners and bright lanterns decorated the store front, welcoming visitors.

“Why are we here?” You walked in front of Mihawk, checking out the tables of purchasable items outside the store’s door. 

Abruptly, Mihawk pulled you inside the store by your collar, “We’re here to make you a Vivre Card in case you go running off.”

“Like the one you gave me earlier?”

You recalled the small piece of paper Mihawk tore off his own for you. He had given it to you just before debarking. His tone was gruff, leaving no room for argument. Under no circumstances were you to lose it. 

Currently, it was shoved deep into your jeans’ back pocket. But hey, it’s probably safe there!

“Correct.”

The process of making a Vivre Card was quicker than you thought. They swiftly clipped your nails. Threw the trimmings into a papery paste. Then, once the paper dried, cut it into a small square.

Before handing you the mother paper, Mihawk sliced himself off a thin strip.

“Keep this on you at all times.”

You took the remaining paper cheerfully, “Got it!” 

Stuffing the newly minted Vivre Card alongside Mihawk’s, you watched Mihawk curiously. 

His brawny hand reached into the innards of his coat. It shuffled around for a moment. Searching for something cradled in a hidden pocket. At last, he pulled out a small coin bag from his jacket and tossed it to you.

“Allowance,” His tone remained teasing, “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

You frowned at his taunt, “I’m not a kid, you don’t need to give me handouts.”

“Maybe not a kid but still a liability.” Mihawk nodded his head in the direction of the large bubbles, “Stay within groves thirty to thirty-nine. The park will keep you busy until I’m back.”

Though your eyebrow twitched at being treated like a child, you gritted out a tiny, “Thanks.”

Mihawk’s eyes dripped with satisfaction. 

He didn’t say anything else. He didn't need to. 

Even the blind could see Mihawk was confident you’d stay in line.

With that, you parted ways with Mihawk with a small wave. You were to meet back at the port on Grove Forty-Four near dusk. 

Until then — it was time to figure out just what this new world had to offer.

To Mihawk’s credit the amusement park was like nothing you had ever experienced before. Rides made from unpoppable bubbles littered about the grove. For a few berries, you bought tickets to the rides that interested you the most.

You knew exactly where you wanted to start.

The gleaming bubble rollercoaster shot you through the upper levels of the grove. Your hair tangled wildly in the rush of wind. While your throat ached from the cheering screams pulled from your mouth.

Your next stop was a soaring bubble drop tower. 

You were loaded into the bowels of a swirling sphere before promptly strapped down. The ride slowly climbed to its peak before shooting rapidly to the ground. 

You had to take a moment to relax after that one.

After all the rides you tried, your favorite one by far was the massive bubble ferris wheel. 

You sat alone on a plush cushion. The view was beautifully unobstructed, the clear bubble surrounding you gave a panoramic view of the entire archipelago. 

Your hands were practically glued to the thin material as you gazed longingly across the grove. 

When you finally came down from the ride, you noted how the sun was still somewhat high in the sky. Your draw string bag still had plenty of berries. Yet, none of the other rides looked intriguing enough to spend them. 

Mihawk did advise you to stay within groves thirty to thirty-nine. Although, you’d argue it was more of a command than a suggestion.

Buuut… Mihawk wasn’t here right now.

It didn’t take much convincing for you to meander out and beyond the amusement park groves. While the rides were fun. You were curious to see what the archipelago had to offer outside of staged entertainment.

You didn’t have to wait long. As soon as your foot stepped from the bridge connecting Grove Thirty to Grove Twenty-Nine, you felt an ominous chill in the air. 

Alarm bells rang in your head loudly. The sound drowning out the park’s noise behind you. Your heart, in agreement with instinct, hammered violently against your chest.

The entire grove screamed DANGER.

For half a second you debated turning around, tail between your legs. You’d herd yourself back to the safety of the amusement park. Bustling children’s rides and greasy corn dog stations would mock your cowardly return.

Then, you’d wait like a loyal dog for Mihawk. Ready to bark, heel, and sit at every command.

The stench of overcooked funnel cake and sickly sweet cotton candy adhered to your skin would surely bring a soft grin to his face. His loyal mutt waited so patiently. Maybe he’d even offer a pat to your head as recognition.

The thought made your teeth grind.

Perhaps the blame did rest solely on your shoulders. You often followed Mihawk’s orders without complaint, enjoying the attention of your infatuation. 

His rare praises made you melt. You couldn’t help but just want a little more. So, you played the part of a lap dog. Happily taking scraps from a man who seemed to be above it all.

Maybe that’s why you suddenly felt so angry.

You weren’t just Mihawk’s precious puppy dog ready to submit.

It was time to get a taste of the real world. The comfort of Kuraigana Island was messing with your brain, making you think the world only consisted of you and Mihawk.

There were places to be and people to meet. You’d be damned if you didn’t venture out into the world of the future before you got home.

The sheer audacity of your determination seemed to vanquish any fear from your body. You looked like a woman on a mission. 

Shoulders straight.

Fists clenched.

You breached the entrance of Grove Twenty-Nine as if you owned the place.

・❥・

[lizardboiii]

Tongue Tied┃One Piece - Pt. 2

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark an empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

・❥・

│cw: SFW, 18+, unfortunate slow start

│wc: 1.4k

│chapters: I II III IV

│notes: accidentally wrote the reader as such a golden retriever lmao. also, please let me know if the switch between languages is getting hard to understand! shorter chapter cause i'm overworked ;(

│AO3 Link!

・❥・

│Chapter II: Golden Hour

Ever-eerie. Ever-present. Ever-gold. 

The undeniable sensation of watchful eyes consumed you as you haunted the castle’s halls. They followed from vestibule to vestibule. The source of them hiding somewhere in the darkest of corners. Sometimes…Goldy seemed more phantom than man.

It was foreign at first, the omnipresent feeling of sharp eyes piercing through you. They reigned supreme. Placing every action you made on trial, Goldy played the judge, jury, and executioner.

Eventually, you learned to pay his stare no mind, preferring to slowly attempt communication with the ravenette in your native tongue. 

The aforementioned man merely allowed you to rattle on. He treated your voice as if it was simply background noise, disregarding your presence like a lesser being. 

Goldy’s pride scarcely made a dent in your determination. In fact, after a few days had passed, you no longer clung close to the walls, favoring to follow the massive man around like a lost duckling. 

Your previous isolation had made you needy.

Before you knew it, you and Goldy had developed a routine - whether he liked it or not. Your day started earlier than most. The sun just barely rising before you stirred awake from a restless sleep. You found Goldy preferred to slumber longer. His form not stalking the halls till an hour later, possibly more.

Until then, you’d pad around the empty halls. You walked with no destination in mind, noting any foyers you preferred over another. And when you scoured the entire castle - you’d start again. The soles of your feet wore into the stone. You were sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the beginnings of a path in the shape of your feet.

At last, Goldy would awaken. He moved with little disturbance, often evading your notice. However, whether he was outside refining his skill in the art of sword or simply relaxing in the parlor, you always managed to find him.

Today was no different. 

You had been meandering throughout western wing, absentmindedly tracing the serpentine engravings of the coffered ceilings with your eyes. Then, a wedge of light caught your attention. 

You dropped your gaze, glancing out of one of the many floor length windows. Its cracked windowsill framed a direct view of the northwestern courtyard. 

Through the quickly fading golden hour, you could just make out the form of Goldy. He sat passively in a cushioned chair facing the sea. 

A fresh newspaper was clutched in his hand while the other held an opaque chalice. Across from him was a chess table. However, no second chair existed for another player to claim.

You smiled at your discovery, you had found him faster than usual. It didn't take long for your form to gently glide towards the window. Curiosity consumed you. Standing before the window enthralled, you watch every movement Goldy made intently. 

When he yawned - so did you. 

When he rubbed his chin - you followed in suit. 

When he re-crossed his legs - you shifted your feet.

Your mimicry didn't last long. As quickly as you noticed him, he noticed you. Without warning, Goldy’s eyes flung to your own, drilling into them. You jumped in surprise. Even after a week of dancing around each other, you still couldn't get used to their divine aureolin. 

Regaining composure, you grinned at him with a wave. Goldy ignored your hospitality. He was quick to return to his newspaper, feigning ignorance. However, you were sure he understood what would come next.

You barreled towards the courtyard. Skipping steps and slamming doors, you easily found your way to the grumpy man. Goldy remained unfazed at your sudden appearance. 

You walked beside his chair with a large smile, excited to talk to someone other than yourself. 

“𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐!”

Your voice drew a puff of air from the man, his eyes shifting to you for only a moment. You hummed at the attention. Plopping down on the ground, you rested your head against the arm of his chair.

“𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?” You beamed at the man above you.

Flip.

You turned your gaze to the sea, “𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕?”

Flip.

Your composure began to waiver, “𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝙸 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝!”

Flip.

Finally, the smile you forced dropped, “𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎.” You picked at the grass beneath you, “𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎.”

A long sigh made you jolt in surprise. Goldy tossed his newspaper on the side table next to him in annoyance. Two firm fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“Just what are you chattering about?” 

You perked up at the response, returning your gaze to the ravenette, “𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢?”

He met your excited gaze coolly. You could practically see the gears in his head turning, frustrated with the fact he wouldn't be able to pull answers from you.

Goldy leaned his head on his hand, refusing to move his eyes off of you, “What am I going to do with you?”

Your mouth curved into a small smile. Although you couldn't understand him, you've determined your second favorite thing about Goldy was his voice.

You turned back to the sea solemnly. Even though you could see his imposing figure, hear his rich cadence - it was as if nothing had changed. You still felt so utterly alone. 

The crashing waves called you home, beckoning your aching heart. Beyond them, bobbing up and down, Goldy’s ship offered itself. A way back home. 

A way back to sanity.

Pointing your finger at the ship, you snapped your head over to the older man, “𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

Goldy raised a sharp brow at your sudden outburst. 

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to articulate your thoughts. Determined, you pointed at him, “𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢.”

Then, you pointed to the ship, "𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝.”

A low rumble escaped his chest before he gestured to himself, “Goldy?”

You shook your head enthusiastically, “𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢!”

“You named me?” He spoke more to himself than you, rubbing the pointed edges of his beard. Displeased, Goldy quickly shook his head, “No.”

You tilted your head in confusion. Had he rejected the name? 

Goldy swished the glass in his hand, “Mihawk.” 

You tasted the name on your tongue, carefully mouthing every syllable, “Mi-hawk?”

A faint smile grew on his face, “Mihawk.”

Grinning, you signaled to yourself, “(𝚢/𝚗)!”

“(𝚢/𝚗)?” He placed the chalice to his lips, “You’re quite a troublesome brat, “(𝚢/𝚗).”

Your stomach flipped at the sound of your name. You hoped he'd say it more.

Pointing at the ship once more, you called out to him, "Mihawk. 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝.”

Mihawk followed your finger, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝?” His brows furrowed slightly before relaxing, “Do you want my boat?”

He stood suddenly, as if he connected the dots he had been chasing. Ignoring your confused form, Mihawlk allowed his long legs to lead him to the path back to the castle. He looked back only for a moment. His large hand beckoning you to follow in suit. 

You stood quickly, fumbling over your own feet. You couldn't lose this chance. 

Mihawk walked briskly, winding through the castle halls before he led you to large french doors. You had seen them before during your morning strolls. However, you were never able to investigate what was hidden behind them. Mihawk kept them under lock and key. 

Reaching inside his pocket, the aforementioned man pulled out a small silver key. It glimmered under the sunlight enhancing the skull design on its embossed head. As quick as he revealed it, he unlocked the room.

The door swung open ominously. The darkness of the room seemed to creep out into the hallway, dying the floor black. Even so, Mihawk entered the room without hesitation. You wasted no time following close behind.

Eventually, Mihawk allowed himself to relax in an armed car across from the room’s fireplace. Taking out a pen and paper, he offered the utensils to you. You gladly accepted them. 

Twirling the pen in your hand, you tried to ignore Mihawk’s piercing stare. 

First, you began to draw a boat. Beneath it you labeled:

“𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝.”

Next, you drew an arrow leading to a small island with a house on it. Beneath which you wrote:

“𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎.”

Looking up from your drawings, you smiled at Mihawk eagerly. However, your grin quickly dropped at Mihawk’s expression.

You had never seen Mihawk’s face get so pale.

“This is impossible.”

Mihawk snatched the paper from your grip. 

“How could you possibly know…”

His eyes searched your writing frantically.

“Poneglyph.”

・❥・

[lizardboiii]

Tongue Tied┃One Piece

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark an empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

・❥・

│cw: 18+, SFW, violent undertones, f!reader, mihawk's eyes, terrible nicknames

│wc: 1.8k

│chapters: I II III IV

│notes: poneglyph writing/speaking in different font. normal font is any other language as written. enjoy <3

│AO3 Link!

・❥・

│Chapter I: Bird of Prey

Squawking.

Soft and high pitch, the incessant cries of seagulls flooded your ears like a symphony. You groaned audibly at the noise. An action you almost instantly regretted as a sudden rush of frigid sea water seeped into your cracked mouth. 

Hacking up a storm, you were quick to come to your, mostly delirious, senses. You laid sprawled out on a strange gloomy shore. The water, almost too calm for your liking, combined with an eerie fog rolling in from the seemingly endless coastline, felt as if you entered purgatory. 

Stumbling to your soaked feet, you tested your balance. Though your legs wavered slightly, you managed to pull yourself from the water’s surprisingly strong tide. You felt like you might be sucked back out to sea. 

Swallowing nervously, you grimaced at the bitter taste of salt still lathered on your tongue. It was a sickly reminder of your current predicament. You were completely stranded, alone. Clenching your eyes shut, you replayed the moments before the disaster. 

Your rickety fishing boat swayed innocently on the open water, unaware of the massive storm brewing overhead. You had no time to prepare, no time to act, no time to ensure any self-preservation. In the blink of an eye, the sky blackened.

The small white capping waves surrounding you abruptly grew in size and violence. Your small boat stood no chance. The futile struggle to stay right side up only lasted moments. With one final wave, your boat capsized from the continuous abuse.  

Shrieking, your body was thrown into the raging sea like a rag doll. You struggled hard against the current, only managing to break the water’s surface every couple of seconds. 

Eventually, your arms grew too tired, too weak, too heavy. It became more of a struggle to convince yourself to stay afloat than to fight the waves dragging you beneath their depths. Then, the world went dark.

Taking a deep breath, you willed away any more dreadful thoughts. The sooner you could find another spare ship the quicker you could go back home.

Scanning your surroundings, you searched for any ships, abandoned or not. Immediately your eyes caught a shocking scene. Nestled far beyond the shore, a massive crumbling castle towered over the island. You couldn't help but remark how fitting it was.

The discovery did little to encourage you. An abandoned castle meant no life, and no life meant no ships. You threaded your fingers through your hair. How could this get any worse?

The sound of thunder mocked your internal monologue. Groaning loudly, you began your venture towards the lonesome castle in an attempt to escape the rapidly forming storm. 

You managed to reach the half point mark before your skin began to crawl. You couldn't help but feel like something, or someone, was watching you through the underbrush. Though you tried to chalk it up to paranoia, you swore you saw something red glowing within the trees. It was just your luck to be marooned on a haunted island.

Whether it was divine intervention or simply uninterest, you managed to reach the chipped steps of the castle unscathed. Although that didn't stop you from hightailing it inside. 

A closer look inside the fortress told you just how regal it once appeared to be: large stained glass windows, tall decorative pillars, and corridors that seemed to stretch for miles. You were in awe from the moment you entered.

In due time, you found your way to an equally extravagant dining room. The wood of the table was scratched and weathered, but ultimately well taken care of. However, the real centerpiece of the room was a massive chair befitting the end.

The plush seat was adorned with gold trim and a deep red leather. You wondered if someone had lugged it in there from the throne room. Swiping a finger across the armrest, you rubbed your fingers together. A thick layer of dust slowly floated to the ground.

You hummed more so to yourself, “𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍.”

Spinning on your heel, you shamelessly plopped yourself down on the gaudy throne. It wouldn't hurt to live in a palace. For a short while at least. You could stay there until you were able to either build another boat or be lucky enough to be rescued.

You smiled, “𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗.”

・❥・

After a month of trial and error, it seemed like you greatly overestimated your raft crafting capabilities. The trees on the island were far too thick for you to cut down with no ax, and any driftwood washed up on the beach seemed to crumble from even the gentlest touch.

You were starting to wonder if you’d be trapped there forever. 

That was until you ventured out on your daily search for partly salvageable driftwood. Aloft the gentle waves was an all too strange… ship? Raft? Casket? To be honest, you weren’t exactly sure what it was.

There was only thing you knew for sure, the small vessel was currently barreling towards your remote island. You could barely contain your excitement. 

You were going home.

Dropping the withered planks in your hands, you allowed them to shatter against the plush sand before bolting to get closer with the ship. Your eyes remained locked in on the crossed shaped mast that grew ever closer. Its black sails signaling “Freedom”.

Your tunnel vision made you stumble and trip over your own feet as you ran. And when you weren't running - you were crawling. Your hands desperately clawed at the damp sand in order to lift yourself back to your feet. You could not bear to lose your fleeting chance of leaving your island prison.

Eventually, the gothic ship docked. Its black sails were slowly being pulled into bundles when you finally managed to reach it. And reach it you did. 

You met the ship with little discretion. Squabbling and frantic, you made no effort to contain your emotions in front of the ship’s presumed Captain. Manners could wait until your safety was secured.

Thrusting your hands in the air, you made your presence widely known, “𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎!”

The man before you hesitated slightly before releasing his hold on the black stained linen. Turning his obscured face, you noted the lackluster expression he wore. He seemed neither surprised nor unsurprised, merely…inconvenienced.  

“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞,” you laughed awkwardly, “𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙼𝚢 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝙰 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠!”

The man greeted your pitiful tangent with a stagnant silence. If you hadn't noticed his previous disinterest, you definitely noticed it now. Taking a deep breath, you internally assessed your newly appointed “savior”.

He stood tall, extremely so. He was taller than any man you knew on your home island. You assumed you'd only reach his chest if you stood side by side. However, he certainly did not lack in the muscle department either. He was broad, thick even. You wondered if his shoulders were as firm as they looked.

Gradually, your eyes wandered to an elegantly crafted coat. The dark red of his sleeves were a stark contrast against his unnaturally pale skin which, unsurprisingly, he left on full display. Not that you minded of course.

However, the most striking attribute he bore was his eyes. They shone brighter than any golden jewel found on the Grand Line, rivaling the sun itself. You certain even Helios swooned over his canary colored irises.

Entranced, you allowed yourself to be captivated. The thick black rims surrounding his pupils produced an almost stained glass appearance. All you wanted to do was consume more, read into them like a devout worshiper. It was as if they bore scripture.

You unconsciously shifted forward, trying to get a closer look. That was your first mistake. Abruptly, those very eyes sharpened with hostility, sizing you up like a hawk. It seemed your sudden movement labeled you a threat.

“Who are…”

The temperature felt as if it plummeted. Icy and thick, you didn't need hands around your neck to feel like you were being strangled. You couldn't understand why this was happening, mainly because…

“You?”

You had no idea what he was saying. 

Hands trembling, you stared at the man above you in confusion. You were sure if you did not respond he could, and would, take action. Maybe if you weren't quick enough in answering he’d kidnap you and sell you off for some pocket change. Or worse, he would kill you for just causing him trouble.

You racked your brain for any semblance of a response. What could you have even done to warrant such an intense reaction?

“…𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝,” You swallowed hard, “𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍?”

The tense atmosphere gave way slightly, releasing its invisible hold on your throat. 

Sighing quietly, the ravenette grumbled to himself, “It seems we don’t speak the same language. How inconvenient.”

Annoyed, the taller man searched your person with his honey laced eyes. Satisfied with his findings, he returned his attention back to his vessel. You pondered if your lack of weapons made you into a problem that could be “dealt with later”.

However, you didn't want to be tossed aside until later. You wanted to return home. And if that meant attempting communication with a hostile vampiric asshole, you'd have to try!

“𝚄𝚖,” You scrambled to the other side of the man's ship in an attempt to regain his attention.

“𝚂𝚒𝚛, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝!”

Goldy, newly nicknamed, paid you no mind, favoring to strap down his ship without haste. You chewed on the inside of your cheek in frustration.

Shuffling beside him, you implemented drastic measures. However, your hand only managed to move a centimeter towards Goldy’s arm before your wrist was swiftly snatched in a painful grip.

Not wasting a moment of Goldy’s notice, you began frantically pointing at yourself with your free hand, “𝙸!”

You motioned at the ship, “𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

Goldy released his iron grip and stood to his full height, “Stop being troublesome.”

“𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!”

The ravenette merely continued to stare at you disinterested. Perhaps he was debating if cutting you down now would be easier than listening to nonsensical ramblings.

Nevertheless, you waved your hands down your body, “𝙼𝚎!” 

You gestured at his ship, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You clasped your hands together, “𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎!”

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

Goldy easily ignored your pestering and walked around you, “I don’t have time for this.”

“𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝!” You ran after his form, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You followed Goldy with continued pleas. Yet, his long legs persisted across the desolate beach to the hidden pathway located in the tree line.

Your brows furrowed at the observation. It took you a week to find the secret trail that led from the beach straight to the castle. How could he have found it so easily?

You finally fell silent as Goldy traversed the path like the back of his hand. He walked confidently. It was as if he had been on the island before.

A sudden thought crossed your mind. 

Goldy lived here.

・❥・

[matsookawa]

Title: A Man's Crisis

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,826

Summary: It's a humbling experience when a usually confident man finds himself emotionally threatened by a nineteen year old boy who happens to have a close relationship with the woman he loves.

Note: This was a request I unintentionally neglected for a year.

“What are the five S’s?”

Your brows furrowed and you stopped kneading your dough. You stared at the ball, concentrating on your search for the answer. Mihawk always did this. Gave you random test questions all because you once offhandedly mentioned you’d like to know more about wine.

He waited patiently, his body turned to you and his hip against the counter. It wasn’t often time allowed him to really take you in, so when you invited him to be your sous chef, he jumped at the opportunity.

Head shooting up when the answer finally came, Mihawk wished the beaming grin you gave him would stay forever. It was one of the most beautiful sights to behold.

“See, swirl, sniff, sip, savor!”

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. “Very good.”

Your smile turned teasing. “Dracule Mihawk, did you just give out praise? What if word gets out to the whole house?”

The swordsman noticed how you moved a little closer. The smell of your perfume invaded his senses and he tried committing it to memory. It was everywhere you were and over time, it became you. Your previous presence in a room was able to be traced and he was always led to where you actually were, your soft smile inviting him to make up something to converse about.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. No one would believe you anyway.”

Your giggle rung through the kitchen and it was as if the entirety of Kuraigana suddenly became exposed to sunlight.

Notoriously nonchalant, Dracule Mihawk was now faced with a truth he couldn’t bring himself to speak aloud. And certainly not to you.

He was absolutely in love with you. And you constantly seeking his praise and asking him to be the first person to try whatever new thing you cooked, was not helping his situation whatsoever.

The soft clanking of swords forced him to stop staring and instead turn to the doorway. Zoro stood, speaking only to you.

“When are you two going to be finished? It’s been two hours and even I know pizza shouldn’t take this long.”

Your gaze remained on Mihawk, but your smile turned softer at Zoro’s voice.

“Some patience would be appreciated, Zo. We’re cooking for four and pizza is not the only thing there is.”

The boy grumbled under his breath, prompting you to gesture towards the refrigerator. “There is a newly bought six pack in there to get you through this difficult time.”

Zoro grabbed the beers. As he passed you to leave, he landed a heavy hand on your shoulder, shaking it as a silent thank you. You pat his hand and he leaves shortly after.

It’s times like these Mihawk is reminded he never stood a chance. Not when you and his protégé had such a close relationship. How is he, too full of fear to even return the brush of your hand when walking side by side, supposed to compete with someone who just yesterday fell asleep on your shoulder during a movie night (which you did not invite Mihawk to, not that he cares)?

Sure, you and he playfully flirted here and there during sparring, but maybe that was just something you did when the adrenaline was rushing. Maybe the late-night conversations over a bottle of wine were friendly. Maybe when he surprised you with wine trivia, your grin was because you were reminiscing on a conversation with Zoro.

He was broken from his stewing by your hand on his bicep.

“Everything okay in that busy head of yours?”

His skin burned where your hand lay and he spared a moment to savor it.

“Perfectly fine. We should finish before Perona decides she’s had enough waiting.”

The Gods blessed him with another one of your laughs as you squeezed his arm once, returning to your task.

Later at the dinner table, you’re seated between Mihawk and Zoro. Perona sits across from you, telling a story about her day to anyone who bothered to tune in.

The owner of the house turned just in time to see you playfully shove Zoro who was smiling down at his plate as he leaned back into place.

The grip on Mihawk’s fork grew tighter and you only took notice when you saw the top beginning to bend.

You lightly kick his shin under the table. “What’s going on with you?”

He stabbed his fork into his pizza and grumbled, “Nothing.”

You shook your head and returned to your conversation with Zoro.

After dinner, you found Mihawk in his study. You didn’t bother knocking, as he never complained when you entered without permission.

He was facing the window, looking out over the small training yard. His eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular. He was unmoving and his breathing steady. This was clearly a man in deep contemplation.

“Any crises swimming in that brain of yours I can help with?”

You did not receive a response. How was he meant to tell you the only crisis in his life is the fact that he’s in love with a woman he can’t have?

“I fear you don’t have knowledge in the kind of situation I’m in.”

The familiar scent of you intensified when you stood beside him. You watched him while his own gaze stayed through the glass. He couldn’t bear to look at you in such a low moment.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try,” you said softly.

“I’m in love with someone. Someone who does not see me the same.”

In his peripheral, your smile faltered. He wondered why. Maybe you just lost some respect for him. He was a mighty warlord, a legendary swordsman, known for his ability to remain calm under the utmost pressure. And now, he’s just a boy complaining about his crush not liking him back.

He was about to retract everything when,

“I know we’ve never gotten into the nitty gritty of our lives, but,” you began.

A moment passed where the only noise was the faint sound of Perona and Zoro arguing in the foyer.

“I’ve definitely been in that situation a time or two.”

Mihawk was both surprised and wanting to die at the same time. You? The most beautiful woman on the seas had experience with unrequited love? And also, you’re making the conscious choice to have this conversation with him?

“What was your strategy?”

You snorted. “It’s not sword fighting, Mihawk. There is no strategy. You say your feelings and… just hope they reciprocate. If they don’t, you learn to live with it.”

Mihawk couldn’t keep the tone out of his voice. “Is that how you approached Zoro then? With hope?”

You had furrowed brows and a confused smile when he turned to finally look at you.

“Approached Zoro? What are you talking about?”

“When you began dating.”

His ears tinged red when you guffawed.

“Dating? Are you insane? Do I look like a cradle robber?”

As much as he would like to believe he kept his composure, something in his expression must have given away his confusion because yours morphed into one of amused surprise.

He quickly tried to defend himself. “You’re both the same age.”

“Mihawk, Zoro is nineteen. I’m twenty-seven.”

The great warlord and legendary swordsman, known far and wide for his intelligence and skill, never bothered to ask your age.

“You’re twenty-seven.”

You confirm, “I’m twenty-seven.”

“I met Zoro when he was seventeen and escaping some bounty hunters on my island. He needed a place to hide, so he stayed with me for a couple of weeks. I taught him some tips with his swords and we started writing to each other.”

“You dote on him a lot.” The jealousy was so loud, you were sure Perona and Zoro could hear it from the other side of the house.

“I dote on him because he’s lonely. He doesn’t have his crew, you’re understandably hard on him, Perona annoys him, so he wrote me asking me to come visit.”

The pieces were beginning to finally form the picture.

“And he was too embarrassed to admit that, so he made it seem like you showed up on your own wanting pointers,” Mihawk concluded.

“Yeah. I’ve, uh, been handling swords since childhood.”

He hummed. “So you and Zoro are not together.”

“Correct. However, he did tease me in his letters, saying I would end up an old maid and that his mentor whose home I would be staying at was very handsome.”

You were able to maintain eye contact, but your nerves were given away when you began picking at the hem of your sleeves.

“Really? Zoro called me that?”

Where on Earth he pulled the confidence to tease you, no one could tell.

“Okay, I might have taken some creative liberties in that story.”

He huffed a small laugh and you lit up.

“Then,” he swallowed thickly, suddenly hesitant. Should he take your advice? Speak everything aloud with nothing on his person except hope? What if one of the situations you mentioned in being earlier is one you’re in right now with someone else? What if he’s misread the entire thing?

“You know,” you cut through his thoughts. “If you want to go on a date, all you have to do is ask.”

A time of death would have been pronounced if a medical examiner saw him in that moment. The way his body froze could have easily been mistaken for rigor mortis.

Your lips pressed together to suppress a grin. “Want to know how I know?”

You weren’t generous enough to allow the shock time to pass and part of him was grateful you chose not to let him suffer. His body relaxed as you explained,

“Mihawk, I’m the only person you speak to aside from Perona, Zoro, and Shanks. You refuse to spend any more time than you have to with them, but always drop whatever you’re doing to accommodate my requests.”

After searching your face for any trace of insincerity, he came up empty-handed.

“I was under the impression I was discreet.”

You shook your head. “A man in love never is.”

Silence was shared as the new information settled over you both. Mihawk didn’t notice when he took a step forward, chests almost touching.

“In that case,” he swallowed thickly. “Would you-“

“I would love to go on a date with you, Dracule Mihawk.”

You stepped forward and his hands instinctively found your hips. Your arms decided to station themselves on his biceps. It was at that moment he realized, this must be your favorite part of his body, so he thanked whatever deity is out there that he chose a physically demanding career.

He leaned down slightly until your lips were just barely brushing.

You rubbed his arms softly and teased, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Mihawk smirked. “That depends,”

“When do you need to aerate a white wine?” The resulting slap to his arm stung, but was definitely worth it.

Note: My headcanon is that Mihawk does not eat pizza with his hands and instead uses a fork and knife.

[acrimson-embrace]

Sticky Notes

Plot: You decide to leave positive affirmations behind.

Pairings: reader x Law / reader x Shanks / reader Mihawk

A/N: Silly shorts

LAW

The first note appeared on Law’s desk three days after you decided he was too grumpy for his own good.

Law noticed it immediately.

In your handwriting:

Today is a great day to do your best!

Law’s expression did not change.

Behind him, the Polar Tang hummed quietly through the water.

He picked up the note.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered.

He crumpled it.

Then paused.

Then uncrumpled it.

Then stared at it again.

Today is a great day to do your best!

It was not.

He opened the top drawer of his desk.

He put the note in the drawer.

Then he shut it very firmly.

—————

After that, you got worse.

Not dramatically.

Just enough to make him suffer.

A blue note on the inside of his office door:

You are capable of amazing things!

A pink note on his favorite medical text:

Believe in yourself!

A green note on the coffee tin:

Your attitude determines your direction!

Law took that one personally.

He found you in the galley ten minutes later, note in hand.

You were making tea.

He held it up.

You looked at it.

Then at him.

“That one felt relevant.”

“My attitude is fine.”

“You threatened to throw Shachi overboard because he hummed near your office.”

“He was off-key.”

“He was happy.”

“He was loud.”

“You see how this supports my point?”

Law’s jaw shifted.

Across the galley, Shachi made a choking sound into his cup.

Law did not turn his head. “Leave.”

Shachi stood immediately. “Yep.”

Penguin followed him out, whispering, “Your attitude determines your direction.”

“Penguin.”

“Gone, Captain.”

The door slid shut.

You were still smiling when Law looked back at you.

“This is a waste of paper,” he said.

“It’s brightening your workspace.”

“My workspace does not need brightening.”

You gave him a kind look. “That is exactly what someone with a dark, emotionally hostile workspace would say.”

His eyes narrowed.

—————

By the second week, the crew started looking for them.

That was when Law’s patience began to crack.

Shachi found one on the infirmary cabinet that said:

Every day is a fresh start!

He read it aloud in a bright, dramatic voice.

Law appeared in the doorway.

Shachi froze.

“What,” Law said, “are you doing?”

“Reading.”

“Don’t.”

“It was on the cabinet.”

“It wasn’t for you.”

The room went silent.

You looked up from the bandages.

Penguin looked at Shachi.

Shachi looked at Penguin.

Bepo covered his mouth with both paws.

Law realized what he had said approximately one second too late.

His face did not change.

But his ears went red.

You turned very slowly back to the bandages.

A smile crawled across your face.

—————

Later, you found the note tucked inside one of Law’s medical books.

Just placed there like a bookmark.

You stood beside his desk, fingers resting on the page, staring at your own handwriting.

Every day is a fresh start!

You should not have felt so warm about it.

It was a ridiculous note.

A terrible note.

The kind of thing printed on a poster in a waiting room beside a fake plant.

But Law had kept it.

Law, who called them meaningless.

Law, who claimed they were clutter.

Law, who apparently did not want Shachi reading them because they were not for him.

You heard footsteps behind you.

“You’re snooping,” Law said.

You turned.

“You left it in a book on your desk.”

“That is not an invitation.”

“It was my note.”

“It was on my cabinet.”

“That I put there.”

“For me.”

The words landed between you.

Neither of you moved.

Law’s mouth tightened.

You looked down because looking at him was suddenly difficult.

“For you,” you repeated quietly.

He was silent.

The ship creaked around you, low and familiar.

You shut the book carefully. “I’ll stop leaving them in public places.”

Law looked at you.

You could feel it.

You made yourself keep going. “Since they’re apparently private.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no bite in it.

You moved past him toward the door.

Law looked down at you.

Then he said, low, “The public ones are irritating.”

Your heart kicked.

You glanced up. “And the private ones?”

His eyes held yours.

“Less irritating.”

Your smile started before you could stop it.

“Wow,” you said. “That’s practically a love confession coming from you.”

Law’s face went flat. “Don’t push it.”

Two days later, you found a pale blue sticky note on your own door.

The handwriting was sharp. Controlled. Familiar.

Your methods are annoying.

You stared at it.

Then, underneath, in smaller letters:

They are not ineffective.

You peeled the note from your door carefully.

Law slowed, just slightly.

You folded it once.

Then again.

Then tucked it into your pocket.

His eyes flicked to the movement.

You smiled softer this time. “I’m keeping it.”

Law looked away.

“Do what you want,” he said.

So you did.

SHANKS

The first note appeared on the galley door.

You are capable of amazing things!

Lucky Roux found it before breakfast, stared at it for a long moment, then opened the door and yelled, “Who thinks I’m amazing?”

“You made eggs,” Hongo said from the table.

Lucky pressed a hand to his chest. “I feel seen.”

After that, the notes spread.

One on the main mast:

Every day is a fresh start!

Yasopp read it aloud, then looked out at the gray sky and the choppy sea.

“Feels accusatory.”

“It means be positive,” you said.

“It means I have to do chores again.”

One on Beckman’s rifle case:

You’ve got this!

Beckman peeled it off, looked at you across the deck, and said, “I know.”

“You’re supposed to feel encouraged.”

“I am encouraged by competence.”

“You’re welcome.”

He stuck the note back on the case anyway.

Rockstar found his on a barrel near the rigging.

Believe in yourself!

He stood a little taller for the rest of the morning.

By noon, he had tried to give three dramatic speeches and volunteered for a task no one had assigned.

Beckman took the note away.

“Hey,” Rockstar said. “That was helping.”

“That was the problem.”

Hongo found one on the infirmary cabinet.

Your hard work matters!

He stared at it, then looked at the medical supplies he had just organized.

“Hm.”

That was all he said.

But he left it there.

Yasopp found another near the cannons.

Your attitude determines your direction!

He turned it sideways.

Then upside down.

Then called across the deck, “Does this mean I’m allowed to avoid work if my attitude says no?”

“No,” Beckman said.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I did. No.”

Shanks loved the whole thing.

Of course he did.

He kept finding notes and bringing them to you like treasures.

“Look,” he said, holding up a pink one. “I am the captain of my own happiness.”

“You are the captain of the ship.”

“I can be both.”

“You are barely one.”

He grinned at you, delighted. “That felt personal.”

“It was encouraging.”

“It was rude.”

“It was accurate.”

His grin only widened.

By evening, most of the crew had at least one note. Some had kept theirs. Some had traded. Lucky had three stuck to his hat. Yasopp had added one to Beckman’s coat that said Smile! It looks good on you! and then fled for his life.

You were cleaning up when you found one last sticky note on the inside of your cabin door.

It was red.

Not yours.

The handwriting was Shanks’s.

Meet me in my cabin tonight?

You stared at it.

Then stared harder.

Behind you, the doorframe creaked.

Shanks leaned there, smiling like he had contributed something meaningful to the ship’s emotional well-being.

“Encouraging, right?”

Your face went warm. “That is not an affirmation.”

“No?” His grin widened. “I felt encouraged writing it.”

“Mine say things like Believe in yourself.”

“I do believe in myself.” His eyes flicked to the note. “That’s why I asked.”

Your mouth twitched.

He noticed, of course.

Shanks leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.

“So?” he asked. “Should I expect you?”

Mihawk

The first sticky note appeared on the breakfast table.

Bright green.

Cheerful.

Offensive.

Mihawk stopped beside his chair and looked down at it.

Today is full of possibilities!

He looked at you.

“What is this?”

“Encouragement.”

“It is paper.”

“It’s a positive affirmation.”

“It is a visual disturbance.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mihawk lifted the note between two fingers and examined it with cool displeasure.

“I do not require a square of adhesive paper to inform me that time continues.”

“It’s supposed to make you more positive.”

“I am positive.”

You smiled into your tea.

He did not throw the note away.

That was your first victory.

—————

After that, you became worse.

Tastefully worse, in your opinion.

A pink note on the wine cabinet:

You deserve nice things!

Mihawk peeled it off and said, “I am aware.”

A blue note on his favorite armchair:

Rest is productive!

That one annoyed him most.

“I rest adequately,” he said.

“You read reports in that chair.”

“That is restful.”

“You sharpened a knife in it last night.”

“That was also restful.”

“You see how this supports my point?”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

You smiled.

He kept the note on the side table.

—————

Perona discovered them by lunch. She floated through the hall holding one that said:

You bring light into the world!

“Did you give this to him?” she demanded.

“Yes.”

She looked horrified. “Why?”

“To improve his mood.”

Perona stared at you.

Then at Mihawk, who was silently removing a purple note from the mantle.

Then back at you.

“He’s going to retaliate.”

“He wouldn’t.”

Mihawk’s eyes lifted.

Perona drifted closer and whispered, “He absolutely would.”

—————

The retaliation came that evening.

You found a sticky note on your bedroom door.

It was black.

Of course it was black.

The handwriting was elegant and precise.

Your optimism is persistent.

You stared.

“That is not an affirmation,” you called down the hall.

Mihawk stood at the far end with a glass of wine in hand.

“It affirms your lack of restraint.”

You pressed your lips together.

He looked far too satisfied with himself.

—————

By the end of the week, the castle was covered in bright squares.

Not many.

Mihawk removed most of them.

But never immediately.

That was the important part.

You caught him reading one beside the window.

You are enough!

“This one is particularly vague,” he said, placing the note carefully on the windowsill instead of throwing it away.

You looked at him.

He looked back, calm as ever.

“You like them,” you said.

“I tolerate them.”

“You keep them.”

“I study my opponent’s methods.”

“I’m your opponent?”

His mouth curved faintly.

“In this matter, regrettably.”

You tried not to smile.

Failed.

Mihawk saw, of course.

His gaze dipped briefly to your mouth, then returned to your eyes with infuriating composure.

The next morning, you found another black note on your teacup.

Your smile is dangerously persuasive.

You stared at it until your face warmed.

Across the table, Mihawk calmly buttered his toast.

“Encouraging, isn’t it?” he asked.

[lilc69420]

One piece: accidentally hitting them

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, Ace, Sabo, Law, Doflamingo, Corazon, Katakuri, Mihawk, Buggy

I wrote this because I have seen a few fanfics about them accidentally hitting you and I was just like what if you accidentally punched them in the face, also when I had thought I was done with this my sibling got me to add Buggy and Brook so it took longer to write then I thought it would

Luffy

The sun was shining down on the deck of the sunny, the wind was blowing gently and the sky was as blue as it could be all together it was a perfect day to have lunch out side and that was exactly what the crew was doing, I was enjoying the chatter of my crew mates as they ate, I could hear Nami and Robin talking about what they bought on the last island Nami all her clothes and Robin with her books, I could hear Zoro and Sanji bickering like usual, Usopp and Chopper were asking Franky about his newest creation, and Jinbe and Brook were talking like two old men, and then last but not least the only one not talking, our captain Monkey D Luffy now the reasoning for our usual chatty captain not talking was because he was shoving his face full of food, it really lift me wondering a lot of the time where all that food went, I took a bit admiring Luffy he looked beautiful in this light, I smiled softly before going to eat my own food I lifted up the piece of meat going to take a bite, I closed my eyes for a second before biting down and instead of being greeted by the perfectly prepared piece of meat Sanji cooked I was greeted by something that felt suspiciously like rubber

I opened my eyes quickly only to be meet by my boyfriend's face I realized the thing I'm certainly biting into is Luffys cheek and Luffy was biting into my steak, I pulled back from him and as soon as my teeth left his cheek he gulped down the rest of my steak, I put my fork down crossing my arms as I said "Luffy that was my food!" I could already hear Sanji berating him as I sighed, Luffy looked at me pouting as he wrapped his arms around me and laid his head on my shoulder saying "but I thought you liked sharing your food with me?" I scoffed "you know that doesn't mean steal it of my fork, I would have shared if you asked" He smiled at me giggling happily as he said "but you make such a cute face when I don't" I felt my face heat up at that I wasn't sure how Luffy could so easily fluster me with out even trying, I muttered annoyed "what ever" He giggled kissing my cheek and Luffy didn't do tiny cheek kisses no he acted like he was going off to war and this was the last time he'd kiss you one of those dramatic long ones that I couldn't help but giggle at, when he finally pulled back he made a loud 'muah!' before going back to shoving food in his gullet, I just huffed before going back to my food but as I stole glances over at the man that was sunshine in human form and noticed the teeth marks on his cheek I couldn't help but think 'I should have bite him harder for stealing my food'

Zoro

Zoro was training like always, I was laying on the deck bored out of my mind as my boyfriend worked out for what was probably the 5th hour to day, I whined loudly "you done yet Zoro!" He responded back quickly saying "No and I already told you you don't have to hangout with me while I work out" I sighed loudly rolling over as the sun went behind a cloud giving the deck of the thousand sunny some temporary shade, I looked at Zoro for a bit before getting an idea, I sat up quickly practically jumping up before making my way over to the man with moss colored hair, Zoro looked at me raising an eyebrow but not saying anything, I brought my hands into fists before holding them up in a position like I was getting ready to fight, Zoro looked like he already knew where this was going before I even throw the first playful punch, I punched the air around Zoro dramatically as I made sounds like I was in the most intense battle of my life, Zoro just said "Do you have to do this every time I train?" I scoffed before saying jokingly "we're training Zoro not just you, don't you know how much effort it takes to punch you this many times" He just chuckled slightly saying "whatever you say I guess" I continued playfully punching at him making sure to never actually make contact with him, Luffy walked by saying loudly "Hey Zoro!" Zoro turned to look at our captain just as I throw a punch I planned to stop before it hit his face except I wasn't expecting him to move it and before I knew it my fist made full contact with Zoros face

I immediately pulled my hand back saying "oh my gosh Zoro are you okay I'm so so sorry" I heard Luffy giggle in the background before walking off probably to find something to eat, Zoro said "Im fine" as he put down the weight he was holding, I grabbed his face after he stood back up from putting the weight down, I said softly "are you sure that sounded like it hurt" He said calmly as he put a hand on my waist "Yeah I'm sure, you are getting way better at those punches though" I huffed saying "I punch you in the face and you compliment me?" He scoffed saying with a jokingly annoyed undertone "am I not supposed to compliment my partner?" I sighed I was glad he wasn't hurt but he was ridiculous and I was fine making sure he knew that I said rubbing his cheek I didn't punch "You're ridiculous" I leaned in kissing his cheek that I hit thinking to myself 'even if he's ridiculous I love my stupid moss head'

Sanji

I was sitting in the kitchen as Sanji tried out a new recipe, the kitchen smelt delicious and just like everything Sanji cooks I'm sure it's going to taste just as if not better then what it smells like which meant I was more then happy to be my boyfriend's taste tester, now of course I take my job as Sanji favorite taste tester very very seriously but not seriously enough to stop me from resting my head on my hand and admire the beautiful blonde man in front of me as he cooked, Sanji some how made it look so effortless like cooking was second nature to him, I watched as he practically danced around the kitchen he really did make cooking look like a art one that he had mastered to perfection, it also definitely didn't hurt that he looked like wife material in that apron, just as that thought entered my mind Sanji called out as he started plating the food "it'll be done in just a minute beautiful, you know I'd hate to leave someone as pretty as you hungry for any longer then I have to" I chuckled at Sanji classic lover boy talk, I responded "take all the time you need to I'm in no rush, besides I like watching you cook" Sanji brought the plate over to me as he said in he's head over heels voice "well if that's the case you can watch me cook anytime" He placed the plate in front of me gently before laying the silverware out for me say gently "tell me what you think beautiful" I picked up the fork taking a bite of the perfectly made food in front of me as Sanji pulled out a cigarette slotting it in his mouth, the food was delicious so delicious in fact that I put my hand up turning to hit Sanji chest lightly and tell him how great it is but unknown to me Sanji leaned down to be on my level so instead of softly meeting his chest the back of my hand smacked right into his face hard

I looked over at Sanji shocked quickly saying "I'm so sorry sweetie I didn't mean to hit you, I thought you were still standing" Sanji put a hand on his face groaning as he said "It's okay beautiful" he kneeled down dramatically like he was actually hurt as he said "if it's my destiny to die at the hands of one as beautiful as you then I shall die a happy man" I scoffed at he's antics saying "your not dying Sanji get up" He shook his head lowering his hand to look me in the eyes as he said "no I'm dying I see an angel right now" I huffed feeling my face flush as I said "Sanji you're looking right at me" He grabbed my hand in his and put his other hand to his chest as he leaned down gently put his lips against my hand before saying "and you are an angel beautiful and I will gladly take any beating these angelic hands grace me with" I yelled at him as he kissed my hand "I did not beat you!" even if he was being an absolutely idiot I couldn't help but smile at Sanji words it was sweet how much he cared about me and I couldn't help but find his chivalry endearing, I couldn't help but think to myself 'he's such a sweet blonde even if he does have stupid eyebrows'

Brook

It was late at night on the sunny and I had woken up to an especially dry throat which is why I was currently wandering around the halls of the ship so long after the sun set, I was hoping to get something to drink in the kitchen but it still felt so far away, I rubbed my eyes gently as I yawned and kept walking, I was still very tired from having woken up not to long ago but I kept moving forward I sighed going to turn the corner towards the kitchen when I did that I was greeted by the sight of a very large skeleton just standing there, now despite the fact seeing a skeleton is actually a very common occurrence on the sunny my tired brain didn't even consider the fact we had a skeleton crew mate which was a especially embarrassing thing to forget when I was dating said skeleton but here we were and before my brain could even think of anything else or any reason for the undead in front of me I punched the very tall man in front of me where his stomach would be I ended up slightly hitting his spine

I heard a very familiar laugh from above me I looked up, waking up a bit more from the scare of walking around a corner in the middle of the night to see a skeleton, the skeleton spoke up saying "I didn't expect you to punch me in the gut dear, that is if I had one" He laughed at his own joke like always, I asked after a yawn "Brook?" He leaned down to be on my level as he said "yes that's me darling" I blinked for a second before all my tiredness seemed to disappear because I just realized I punched at my boyfriend for no reason, I immediately said "Brook I'm so sorry for hitting you" He smiled at me saying "it's fine dear, although I wouldn't be opposed to you showing me your panties as an apology" I crossed my arms saying "don't make me hit you again" He just chuckled before asking "why are you up so late?" I responded "I was going to get something to drink from the kitchen" He smiled saying "well allow me to walk you there then my love" He held his arm out for me to take and I did letting him lead the way to the kitchen as we walked I thought 'I love this silly skeleton even if he is a perv'

Ace

I was sitting at a bar a very very loud bar there were a bunch of people there I'm sure at least haft of them were pirates not that I could judge I was waiting for a pirate Mr 2nd division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, fire fist Ace, aka my boyfriend, I was picking at my fries bored out of my mind as I waited for Ace to show up he had said when he called earlier that he'd be here soon he literally said 'I'll be there before you know it baby' but it looked like before you know it wasn't actually going to be before you know it, I sighed sipping on my drink I didn't like being in bars with out my human equivalent of a guard dog still here I sat waiting for him, I really hope he didn't make me wait to much longer because even if I was fine with pirates I could tell this lot was not that type I'd like to hang around and frankly being in this bar with them with out Ace was making me keep my guard very high, I scoffed into my drink thinking to myself 'I never have to feel paranoid when Ace is around' I sipped my drink a bit more as I heard foot steps come up behind me some of my light was blocked out by the shadow of a man and before I realized it a strangely warm hand slipped on to my waist as someone with a strangely familiar voice said "hey beautiful what you doing in a place like this alone you-" before I could even register why his voice sounded like one I've heard before or the man could even finish what he was saying I turned around in my chair swinging as hard as I could at the man's face, I felt my hand make full contact with him just the way Ace told me to deal with creeps

I was about to give this creep a piece of my mind when I quickly recognized his adorably freckled face even with the hand that was once holding my waist now holding his cheek, I was to shocked to say anything but Ace quickly broke the silence saying "I know I'm late baby but I didn't think you'd be this mad" I said absolutely flabbergasted "Ace no sweetie I'm not mad I didn't realize it was you I'm so sorry I punched you" He smiled at me saying "No you did good I'd want you to punch some creep touching you" I couldn't help but smile at my absolute cute pie it's like he's smile was contagious, I reached a hand out moving his from his cheek and replacing it with my own, he placed his hand on top of mine saying playfully "you've got one hell of a punch baby, maybe you should be the one protecting me not the other way around" I chuckled he was such a goof ball and some how even when I was the one who punched him he was making me feel better about it, this man really was just a warm bright campfire on a cold night he some how just melted all my worries away, I felt my smile widened as I thought to myself 'what did I do to deserve this sweetie pie'

Sabo

The halls of the revolutionary army's base was quite it wasn't surprising everyone was either asleep, shoved to far into paperwork to make noise or off on a mission, not me though I was going to sleep but couldn't the problem being Sabo has been gone for well over a month and I just couldn't sleep as well with out Sabo something about him just made me sleep better which is how I found myself here wandered the halls of the base all by myself worrying about my boyfriend's safety, I knew he was probably fine Sabo was strong and smart but I still worried being a revolutionary was dangerous and for all I know he could be in danger right now, I sighed as I kept walking I hated know Sabo's mission would probably take a few more weeks, I was so distracted in my thoughts about Sabo I didn't even hear any foot steps come up behind me I didn't even know anyone was there till one hand landed gently on my shoulder and the other gloved hand landed over my eyes, before this person even had a chance to say something all my training with Sabo came flooding back to me, now I might not be a revaluation that went to battle a lot but Sabo had made sure I could hold my own against someone, he always said 'as much as it pains me I can't always be there to protect so you have to be able to protect yourself even if it's just a little' I quickly stomped on the person's foot before jabbing my elbow into their side as hard as I could

I heard the person grunt as their hand fell from my eyes they leaned more into my back before a very familiar smooth voice said "are you trying to break my ribs the moment I get back darling" He chuckled slightly before adding "I didn't know you wanted to keep me from the field that bad" I gasped quickly stepping off of his foot trying to turn around to face him but I was unable to when Sabo wrapped his arms around my waist resting his head on my shoulder, I said still shocked that he was here "I thought your mission would take at least two more weeks" He hummed shoving his face in my neck his breath tickling me as he said "I made sure to finish it as fast as possible to get back to you, although it seems you weren't as excited to see me" I said quickly not wanting him to get the wrong idea "no no I'm so happy you're back I just wasn't expecting you I'm so sorry I elbowed you" He chuckled lightly "its fine dear you know I'm just playing" I yelped as he quickly before I could even register it swept me off my feet holding me like a groom would a bride, he smiled at my shock before saying gently "now how about we head to bed darling?" I just nodded as I leaned into his chest as I thought 'I'm so happy Sabos home'

Law

The time for checkups has rolled around on the Polar Tang which is way I'm here sitting in front of Law on an exam table, I kicked my feet back and forth softly as he explained a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo, Law seemed to realize I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying at all, he said slightly annoyed but not surprised at all "You're not listening to me at all are you?" I looked at him surprised saying in a why no one would believe I was telling the truth "what no I was listening" he sighed not even bothering to respond to me before saying " I guess we'll just start the checkup since you don't want to listen to me" I huffed as Law grabbed gloves he slipped them on each hand before saying "I'm going to test your reflexes" I nodded as I stopped kicking my feet Law grabbed a tiny rubber hammer saying calmly "I'm going to lightly tap your tendon" I hummed as he walked over to me saying "Yeah I know" Law gently tapped my tendon and my leg shot out he hummed before tapping the hammer against my other leg, my leg went out and kicked Law right in the leg

Law groaned when my foot hit he's leg I took a second before I started laughing at him Law looked at me annoyed I said between giggles "you got yourself kicked" Law crossed his arms saying "Yeah yeah real funny" I continued to laugh "it is, it is funny" Law scoffed as he uncrosssd his arms to start tapping my elbows he said as he did that "shouldn't you feel some remorse for hitting me" I shook my head as my giggling slowly stopped, I said a the very tail end of the giggling "no because you're the reason my leg kicked out so you basically hit yourself" He just rolled his eyes before he continued the exam muttering under his breath that I was immature, I said playfully poking him "you know you love me" Law didn't respond but we both knew it was true I thought to myself 'I like getting chances to laugh at Law'

Doflamingo

I was getting ready for a night out with Doflamingo, I was making sure everything was in order I knew how Doffy was he wanted me looking my best when we went out and he wouldn't expect anything else, Doffy hated when things didn't meet his standards which is way the clothes clinging to my skin were hand picked by Doflamingo with this date in mind, not that I mind him picking my clothes if Doflamingo had one thing going for him it would be his since of style, I smiled at myself in the mirror smoothing down the clothes a bit more, they really where flattering but even with that I felt like something was missing from the look, I looked around me and Doffys shared room trying to think about what it was, I noticed Doflamingo on the other side of the room he was in a crisp suit, the suit really did help his tall frame look more intimidating then it did in he's usual more laid back clothes but that's not what my eyes drawled to instead it was the cologne he was spraying on, it clicked in my head that's what's missing perfume, I quickly went looking for my favorite perfume one that Doffy got me for my birthday last year that quickly became my favorite, I noticed it on a shelf much to high for me to reach myself, I sighed because I had a feeling I knew how it got up there, Doffy loved putting things to high for me to reach so I had to ask him for help, I spoke up as I pointed up at my perfume saying "hey Doffy can you grab that for me?" I turned with my hand still up to check where he was at but instead of being still across the room like I expected my hand hit him in the crotch

I immediately pulled away after I actually hit him, Doffy put a hand on my head I looked up at the tall man saying apologetically "I'm so sorry Doffy I didn't even notice you" I felt his hand tighten a bit before he said through gritted teeth "it's fine sweetheart" I looked away from him nervously as I muttered "are you sure? I'm really sorry if I hurt you" even if I was dating Doffy I was well aware of how easily he could crush my skull in his hand, Doffy chuckled even if it wasn't a very amused one, he said "I'm insulted that you think you could hurt me" I said nervously as he reached above me to grabbed my perfume "I didn't mean it like that" He laughed spraying my perfume on me as he said "I know sweetheart" after he finished spring it he made sure to put it back somewhere to high for me to reach, after he patted my head saying "let's go sweetheart" I let out a sigh of relief that Doffy wasn't mad at me, I thought to myself letting out an internal sigh 'think God he's not mad'

Corazon/Rosinante

I was walking around the Donquixote pirates ship after a long day of work now working for the Donquixote pirates was a pain a really really big pain but it paid so it's just how things had to go, I strolled through the ship, I had heard Corazon had gotten back last night I was hoping to see him today but I had been so busy I haven't been able to find him, Corazon was by far my favorite person here and not just because he was my boyfriend, but because he was by far the only mentally stable one here, he is kind and caring and didn't see people like tools, I sighed I decided I was going to look for Corazon tomorrow I was tired and going to head to my room I stretched my arms out yawning just as I did that I heard someone I didn't know was there trip and fall smaking into my arm on the way down

I quickly pulled my arms back in and looked down at the bundle of feathers laying on the ground, I gasped in shocked quick crouching down next to Corazon saying "Cora are you okay? That looked like it really really hurt" He lifted his head up smiling slightly as he gave me a thumbs up but despite that I could see the scratch on his for head and the nose bleed he got from hitting the ground, I quickly used my sleeve to wipe the blood saying worried "You're bleeding" Corazon grabbed the notepad out of his coat writing on it quickly 'its okay sweetheart I'm okay' I sighed loudly saying "You're not okay you're bleeding!" He just gave me a bigger smile like that was supposed to comfort me even though I was dating a man who was so clumsy that you'd think he had the worst luck in the world, I finished wiping the blood as he wrote down something on the notepad after he showed me a paper that said 'see its just a nose bleed' I scoffed "yeah from face plating into my arm and the ground" He pouted before quickly writing 'is you're arm okay?' I wanted to sigh again at how he acted like this didn't matter but instead I found myself smiling at the fact he was worried for me, I said softly "yes I'm fine" after saying that I leaned up kissing his forehead gently thinking to myself 'this man's clumsiness is going to give me a heart attack one day'

Katakuri

Me and Katakuri were laying in bed it had been a long long day of running around and I was happy to get to unwind after it with my sweet husband, he was laying next to me on our giant bed reading as he enjoyed some night time donuts, he was absolutely adorable as he munched away at the sweet treats, as I watched him my mind couldn't help but wander even with all my time married to the large sweet commander I still couldn't help but find myself wondering about him I found him so fascinating and I wasn't sure if thats because he's actually fascinating or just the want to know everything about the person you love, as I was laying there looking at him a sudden thought popped into my head 'what if I hit him?' because he will dodge I know that, everyone's heard about Katakuris crazy good observation haki and I don't get to see it that often so it made me interested I wanted to see him really coolly dodge stuff so I found myself letting my intrusive thoughts win, I sat up looking at Katakuri as he was still reading he looked so peaceful and pretty as he did it it was making me question if I should go through with this idea but instead of deciding it was a bad idea I thought to myself 'he's going to dodge so what's the harm' I waited for him to finish his donut and swallow it before going to smack him to my surprise and horror instead of him dodging it my hand made full contact with his face as the sound of the slap ringed through our room

I looked at Katakuri horrified saying quickly "oh I'm so sorry Katakuri are you okay?!" I felt so bad that I had just smacked my husband in the face I really thought he was going to dodge it, Katakuri instead of answering my question asked his own saying sweetly "sweetie have I done something to upset you?" I shook my head quickly saying "No no of course you haven't" I was panicking at the fact that I not only hit him but made him think I was upset at him, I placed a hand on his cheek softly as I said "I'm not upset with you I thought you'd dodge, you know like you do when you fight people I thought it'd be really cool to see but I guess you didn't see it coming, I'm sorry love" He leaned against my hand as he put his on top of mine saying gently "no I saw it coming" I looked at him for a while before saying flabbergasted "then why didn't you dodge?!" He looked at me with possibly the most love I've ever seen in a man's eyes and said "You're my spouse if you wanted to hit me I was sure there was a good reason for it" I looked at him asking "so you let me hit you because you thought I was mad and probably had a good reason for it?" He hummed kissing my wrist before saying "I knew you'd never hit me without a reason so why would I stop you" I just sighed at this absolute sweetheart before thinking to myself 'I can't believe Katakuri let me hit him because he thought I had a good reason'

Mihawk

Mihawk was currently not home which meant I was all alone on our gloomy little island, now as much as I knew I didn't need to worry about intruders or really anything scary here it was kinda hard not to get a little paranoid on an island as spooky as this one when you're all alone, but I decided to distracted myself by doing the chores around the house right now I was walking toward me and Mihawk's room with our freshly cleaned sheets, I found myself a lot more jumpy when Mihawk wasn't home so I tried to make it to the room as quick as possible, maybe it was really childish to think no monsters or threats would get me in my room but here I was, when I reached the door to the bedroom I quickly pushed it open heading inside, I made my way to the bed placing the sheets on it before starting to put them on it, I sighed wandering when Mihawk will get home I slipped the first sheet on, I watched as the red silk sheet covered the bed, I put the next sheet on before deciding to put the pillows in the pillowcases before putting the comforter on I grabbed the first pillow case it was black on the outside and red on the inside where pillow sleeps, I grabbed my pillow shimmying it into the pillowcase after that I grabbed Mihawks and put it in the other pillowcase just as I finished doing that I heard cracking from behind me I froze and before thinking I squeezed my eyes closed and swang the pillow hard at what ever was behind me saying loudly and scared "the only ghost allowed in my house is perona so get out of here!" Mihawks pillow made contact with something

I opened my eyes to find my husband standing there his hair a bit missed up from getting hit by a pillow, I looked a him for a second before giggling as I said "oh its you Mihawk" Mihawk sighed taking the pillow from me and started fixing up the bed "you seemed quite distracted my love I had a enough time to come in and place Yoru down before you noticed me" I finished giggling as I said "well it's not my fault your foot steps are so quite" He just smoothed out the bed sheets after he finished making the bed, he stood up turning around to look at me saying "and here I thought you'd be happy that I'm home instead I'm greeted by a pillow in my face" I smiled at him placing a hand on his cheek as I said "I'm sorry my love would you have preferred a kiss?" He smiled lightly as he said "yes I would have my love" I leaned in kissing him as I thought 'I love him even if he spooks me sometimes'

Buggy

I was sitting on me and Buggys bed as he gave me a dramatic showing of what he's going to say to his subordinates tomorrow really putting on the big show so I'd get the full picture, he wanted my opinion on if I thought it was perfect he really did take his performances seriously or as seriously as Buggy could be, I watched quietly as I chuckled occasionally at his antics, after he finished he looked at me saying "so what did you think?" I hummed deciding to leave him in suspense for a bit before saying "it was good sweetie" Buggy got up in my face saying "just good my jester? I was going for great! Perfect even" I chuckled at his silly pout reaching out to run my fingers through his hair I said softly "okay okay it was great" He smiled standing up tall saying "I know I'm great!" I smiled as he held his hand up I went to hi five his hand and completely missed his hand landing square on his face instead

I looked at Buggy for a second before bursting out in laughter it didn't take long for Buggys face to turn red as he shouted "ITS NOT FUNNY!" I chuckled more pulling my hand back I said between giggles that almost brought me to tears "it was pretty funny" Buggy wrapped his arms around my waist laying his head on my chest as he said "don't laugh at me baby" I smiled petting his head as I said "Fine fine I won't laugh at you" He snuggled against me saying "I expected an apology" I said softly twirling a bit of his blue hair with my finger "I'm sorry Buggy" He huffed saying "since I'm so gracious I will forgive you" I looked down at my silly clown laying against me and said softly "will I'm glad you're such a gracious leader oh great Buggy" He said proudly looking up at me "I am great" I leaned down kissing Buggys head before snuggling my head into his voluptuous hair smiling against it, Buggy was such a goofy guy some how he always had a way of making me smile it was my favorite thing about the smooth talking idiot clown, I said into his hair "I'm sorry for hitting you" He said against my chest "it's okay my sweet jester" I laid down against our bed just enjoying his companion as I thought to myself 'he's such a silly little clown'

[allsaiint]

modern!au where dracule mihawk runs a quiet little out of the way used bookstore that hardly seems open half the time but it’s still fairly popular. he does book restorations with hand crafted covers if someone is willing to dole out the money for it.

everyone can tell that the store is just a hobby because how else is this recluse of a man able to afford the high end luxury car he drives? he claims good investments and yes, that’s partially true.

only a select handful of people know that mihawk a renowned artist known for his dark and melancholy pieces, always presented under an alias he keeps under tight, tight wraps to avoid the nuisance of publicity. it’s a good, cathartic way to express himself without having to bare himself to a therapist and he supposes if it brings in enough money to live comfortably then it’s a bonus. it’s not the major reason he does it though.

he’s content with his life and solitude. he has people he can call up and chat if he so desires— it’s laughably rare that he does though— but for the most part he spends his days quietly doing what he loves.

then you wander into the store with paint smudges on your fingers, dressed in soft pastels with a shy smile as you present mihawk with two rare first edition books that you want to gift to people. they’re in awful condition— some dimwit shoved them onto a shelf and left them to rot— and you ask him if they can even be salvaged.

he agrees, but it’s going to take time and care and if you want a new cover it’s going to cost—

— nothing, because you lay two covers you painted yourself beside the other two and ask if he would be willing to use them. it’s only that this friend is very special to you and to give them someone else’s work feels wrong and mihawk finds himself agreeing because you sound so hopeful and when is the last time anyone put that much work into something for him?

it fractures something, and he shakes himself free of the sudden, unwanted thought even as he tells you he’ll call if and when he’s finished. he won’t charge if he can’t complete the work, but you don’t even bat an eye before you tell him you don’t expect perfection, just for him to do his best.

that thought flickers through his mind a second time, and it sinks its hooks in before he can rid himself of it like a pesky fly.

[romancedawn333]

i adore you.

mihawk had become accustomed to being alone.

for ages, he’s spent countless hours by himself. whether it be during battle, at sea, or simply within the quiet croaks of his castle.

and for a long time, mihawk thought that he’d prefer the silence. that it was better to be alone, as it created less issues. or maybe it was that it’s easier to keep everyone at arms length than let them in.

i guess maybe it was just his lack of trust. how was he supposed to trust anyone in a world like this?

somewhere along the lines, he ran into you.

mihawk can remember the exact moment he laid his eyes on you. it lays vivid in his memory.

beautiful legs that were accentuated by those black strappy heels. a figure of a goddess. lips painted in a dark blood red, tempting him to smear it with his lips and fingers. and most of all, eyes that made him feel like he was drowning in something unknown.

you quickly began to make a mess of mihawk’s life. or maybe his mind. or maybe his heart. whatever it was, mihawk wasn’t sure how he survived this long without you.

and today, as he returns home after a cross guild meeting he sees you in your shared bedroom. wearing a black thin silk robe with lace on the edges.

you sat on your vanity. soft music played off the record player. you had just completed your makeup, and were putting on a pair of earrings that mihawk had bought you for your wedding anniversary.

mihawk got drunk off the sight of you. divine creature, bewitching his mind, body, and heart.

how could this feeling be real.

within a moment, you noticed mihawk staring at you through the mirror.

“dracule,” you said breathlessly.

you turned your head to face him. his gaze was so sharp, always so laser focused. and it made your heart thump.

sometimes it’s hard to believe this is real.

mihawk walked closer to you. he reached out for your hand, slowly pressing a soft kiss.

mihawk thought he didn’t understand what soft meant before you. he thought everything in life was supposed to be done harsh and rough. but with something as delicate as you, how could he be anything but soft?

you were the reason for every breath. you were the reason for the end of every battle he fought. you were the reason he fought carefully. you were the reason he saw good.

deep down, you were the only thing that kept him bound to the world.

“i say we skip this gala, darling wife,”

“and what do you propose we do instead?”

you were both standing now. you stood so closely together, eyes intently staring at each other. his hands lay tight on your waist, as if you were his anchor.

in turn, you placed both of your hands softly on either sides of his face. it grounded both of you.

for a moment, mihawk really didn’t think.

i mean how could he, when his eyes were locked on yours. pools of thoughts and lust we’re gathered in his mind.

“dracule?”

mihawk softly placed his head against yours. and he began to move slowly, so that you both ended up dancing to the melody playing softly.

and in this moment, mihawk could only think of one thing. how incredibly lucky he was.

[allsaiint]

more modern!au—

mihawk’s pet name for you comes out of nowhere— he’s really not the type to use them, but it slips in a moment of vulnerability. he freezes because that type of comfort has always been out of his reach, if he ever tried to grasp it in the first place.

he expects it to slip through his fingers now and though you’ve done nothing special, somehow you’ve cracked open the armor he wears and slipped inside to make a home for yourself without having to carve and hollow out pieces of him. he’s never had anyone fit to him instead of trying to make him into something that benefitted them.

it’s why it feels so fitting. that single word softens at the edges when it slips out against your skin under the cover of darkness; you smell like him, feel like home in his arms. he rarely sleeps and when he does, it’s poorly. it was an aggravation before he had you to occupy him, and where he used to always get up to paint because it was the only way to purge the ire or whatever dream had woken him up, now he only does sometimes.

only when he’s certain you’re deeply enough asleep that you won’t come looking for a little while. he hates making you get out of bed to search, though there’s always a bit of selfish warmth when you do inevitably knock. sometimes you lure him back to bed, and sometimes you sit in his studio with him. sometimes he has to carry you back to bed even though you insist otherwise.

those moments, where he does for you in such small ways, are how he best expresses himself. it’s why he carries you, why every painting he produces now has your faint traces of influence— why he lets you climb all over him like a godforsaken tree and lets you love on him like he an angry cat. you had said that yourself enough times.

it’s also why angel feels so natural when it finally comes out on one of his especially sleepless nights. your soft sound when he tried to escape had folded him instantly, your gentle pull around his neck coaxing him back down and into your embrace.

the brush of his lips over the shell of your ear elicited a shiver that made him do it again before he murmured, “go back to sleep, angel.”

you had stilled, as had he. it had come out with so little provocation that he almost wanted to take it back— until you lifted her hand to your lips. against his knuckles, like you knew he needed it, you just said, “i can’t sleep without you. you know that.”

as you settled again, he shifted up to kiss your temple and said, “i suppose i’ll stay then, if it means so much to you. now go to sleep.”

you did after what he suspected was a snicker, but he did, in fact, not get up at all that night.

[st4rpiece]

sleeping separately after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: mihawk, crocodile, and buggy x fem! reader summary: how cross guild would react to you sleeping alone after an argument CW: mainly fluff, slight angst others: not proofread, lowercase intended, and pictures found on pinterest

—————

Dracula Mihawk

mihawk is known for his stoic and composed demeanor. however, an argument that leads to you sleeping in the guest bedroom would shake his calm exterior. mihawk values control and precision, not just on the battlefield but also in his personal life. The argument would leave him feeling a sense of imbalance, disrupting the harmony he strives to maintain.

initially, he would analyze the argument with the same meticulousness he applies to his swordsmanship. he would replay the conversation, seeking to understand your perspective and where he might have gone wrong. he would be restless and his castle, usually a sanctuary of peace, would start to feel unusually empty and cold.

his conclusion? being right wasn't worth you being upset and distant with him. especially not when it meant sleeping alone.

"dear?" his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he enters the room.

"I would save this for the morning, but that would not sleeping in your arms tonight," he says, kneeling beside the bed and lifting you up bridal style. his actions catching you by surprise as you subconsciously wrap your arms around his neck for support.

"you can tear me a new one in the morning," he jokes (something he rarely did), before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he made his way back to your shared room.

Sir Crocodile

crocodile would initially react to an argument and subsequent separation with a sense of indifference. or at least that's how it looks on the surface. the argument would leave him brooding as he is not one to easily admit fault, and his pride would make it difficult for him to do so immediately.

he would spend the first half of the night in his office, surrounded by the trappings of his power, telling himself that you'd get over it soon.

as the night wore on, your lack of presence would make him realize that you weren't going to get over it soon. and by this point, he has had enough. he would make his way to the guest bedroom. without even bothering to knock, he would burst through the door, staring down your curled-up form. a pang of guilt would run down his spine as he looked at you.

"when are you coming to bed?" his voice rough, a complete contrast to the worry in his eyes and the guilt that he felt. he already knew the answer, so when you don't respond he would just lift you up, throwing you over his shoulder before landing a firm slap on your ass.

"you're mad? fine, be mad, but be mad in our room," he says sternly as he walks back to your shared room.

Buggy the Clown

buggy with his flamboyant and often comical personality would react to an argument with you more dramatically. the idea of you sleeping separately would initially infuriate him causing his pride and insecurities to flare up.

he would spend the initial moments of the separation grumbling and throwing a minor tantrum to anyone who could listen, convinced that he was right (he wasn't). however, as the night wore on, his anger would give way to the loneliness and regret he felt.

he would pace outside you door, muttering to himself as he debates whether to knock or not. not sure if you even wanted to see him after what he has done.

she's probably waiting, arms wide open, for me

or maybe she's packing her bags finally tired of my antics

oh nika i hope it's not that

in the end, he would knock on the door and try putting on a confident front even though he's low-key expecting you to ignore him. so when the door opens, the first thing you are greeted with is a shocked buggy, making another one of his goofy faces. this subconsciously cracks you up unknowingly breaking the ice for him.

"sugar! oh, how i've missed you," he would immediately pull you into a tight hug. and without much of a warning, he would start word-vomiting his apologies.

"i'm so sorry about my actions from earlier sugar and i’m sorry for being so stubborn about it. I understand now that i went too far and that i should’ve acknowledged that instead of arguing with you. but i promise that it won't ever happen again. so please forgive me this once, sugar?"

you don’t have it in you to send him away after all that so instead you would simply pull him into the room before turning and going back to bed this time with him following suit.

—————

part 1

hi guys! thanks again for reading, this is the second part and honestly the last, for op at least. buggy was surprisingly the easiest to write while mihawk was the hardest TvT. hopefully i did them all justice tho!!

i have a few ideas of what i want to write but if you have any suggestions for plot or character please let me know, i’m open to any ideas :).