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rainbowmoonstonestories · 25 days ago

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A Bounty As Boundless As The Sea | Chapter 7

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction 2023) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Original Characters, Akagami no Shanks, Roronoa Zoro , Perona. Warnings: Mention of blood and physical torture, violence, 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching. Summary: Constantly evading capture due to a bounty on your head, you were forced to embrace the life of a pirate, despite your initial desire for a thrilling adventure and a simple exploration of the world. One fateful day, the Marines dispatched Dracule Mihawk to hunt you down, plunging you into a game of hide and seek with the formidable Warlord of the sea throughout the East Blue. However, to your surprise, the man proved to be less bloodthirsty and hostile than you had anticipated. His piercing, hawk-like eyes, shimmering with a deep golden hue, left an indelible impression on your mind, while his apathetic yet self-assured demeanor ignited a newfound sense of intrigue within you.

Credits: The divider was made by firefly-graphics.

Tagging: @gg-trini, @commanderfreethatdust, @canthebest1, @shakysif, @i-am-vita. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the future chapters, feel free to drop me a comment!

Read on AO3

Although your relationship with Mihawk took unexpected turns for the better, your inner doubts and fears continued to resurface. After a year-long absence, a short break in your hometown might be just what you needed.

Author's note: Hey everyone! I'm finally back with a new chapter. I know waiting almost two months between updates can be a bit tiring, but I can't write these stories any faster. Unfortunately, I caught COVID last week, which slowed everything down due to the cold and persistent headaches. 😔 Please bear with me! ♥♥

This chapter is LONG, and while relatively calm, it holds significant meaning while marking a crucial turning point in Reader's relationship with Mihawk. The next chapter promises to be even better in this regard. Also, there's a bit of spice in the beginning! 🌶

Warning: There's a bit of detailed NSFW content in the beginning.

Your relationship with Dracule Mihawk had truly transformed into an unprecedented adventure. Despite your established job as a dealer and Mihawk's free-spirited nature, more encounters followed in the subsequent weeks, spontaneous and unpredictable.

It remained a mystery whether Mihawk regularly traveled between the Grand Line and the East Blue, effortlessly navigating the Reverse Mountain and Calm Belts. Nonetheless, it wouldn't have been surprising, given his extraordinary abilities and the enigmatic aura that surrounded him.

As time passed, you noticed Mihawk gradually revealing more of himself around you. He displayed a subtle appreciation for certain things—refined food with rare cuts of meat, exotic fruit, philosophy, and golden jewelry. You often found yourself engaging in deep discussions about history and battle strategy, topics other women might find awfully soporific, but that you thoroughly enjoyed exploring with him. His subtle compliments on your appearance and accessories revealed his appreciation for elegance and refinement, his keen eye for even the smallest details underscoring his profound interest in you.

Mihawk wasn't a particularly romantic man. Though well-mannered and generally polite, he eschewed traditional courtship rituals involving loving words or flowers. He was direct, saying only what he meant, and didn't concern himself with public displays of affection like holding hands in the streets. Yet, you grew fond of even this seemingly detached side of him, finding your intimacy more expressive than any other gesture.

In bed, when his guard lowered, he displayed a noticeably softer side. His piercing golden eyes, firm touch, and strong embrace conveyed the depth of his growing devotion to you. It was something that transcended ordinary relationships, surpassing anything you had ever imagined possible.

You weren't opposed to romance per se, but you gave little importance to red roses or serenades. You had always been rebellious at heart, longingly staring at the ocean with hopes of one day setting sail for grander aspirations. Certainly, it hadn't been an easy journey, and countless times you'd felt like giving up on everythng you had tried to build for yourself. Your serendipitous meeting with Dracule Mihawk, however, proved to be a turning point, completely transforming your perspective and the familiar world around you.

His presence was electrifying, awakening your senses and unveiling emotions you had never before fathomed. Even during your separations, which could span days or weeks as you pursued your missions and explorations, his scent lingered in your memory, and you could still feel the warmth of his hands on your skin.

Time with Mihawk was a luxury beyond words, his presence exuding a serenity akin to unintentional meditation. The only drawback was the intensifying longing you felt for the Warlord during his absence, a bittersweet consequence of your increasingly enchanting rendezvous.

With each meeting, your desire to be with him grew stronger, stirring feelings you were reluctant to acknowledge. He was ever elusive, wild, easily coming and going—a lightning bolt in the wind. For all you knew, he might grow weary of your company at any point in the future, vanishing without a trace, never to return for you.

Yet, there were those small, unexpected actions that arose unexpectedly, validating his commitment and genuine dedication to your relationship.

One day, Mihawk visited your cabin without reservation, moving through it with confident familiarity. By then, his presence there felt as natural as welcoming him home, a cozy sanctuary that had become your shared haven. It was meant to be a simple distraction, really; a moment to enjoy a drink and conversation, with no real intention of engaging in sexual activities. You should have anticipated that your interaction would inevitably evolve into playful banter, culminating into something more.

However, this time, it was new. A shared soak in your private tub filled with warm, steaming water, your clothes fallen away piece by piece and strewn casually across the wooden planks. Even his golden cross knife lay scattered among the pile.

It was an impromptu idea, offered with a mischievous smile amid your exchange without much forethought. You'd expected him to dismiss it offhandedly, returning his attention to the wine and lounging elegantly on your couch for the rest of the night.

When he took the initiative without a word, easing into the confined space and establishing an intimate closeness—skin against skin—saying you were absolutely dumbfounded would be an understatement. Nestled together in the water, Mihawk sat behind you, his strong chest offering support as your legs bent slightly upward. His muscular thighs enveloped your body like a protective cocoon as his elbows rested on the tub's edge, his head reclined and pressed absently against his hand.

The lanterns surrounding you had all been lit, casting an orange glow onto your figures. The amber and lavender scents in the air intoxicated your heightened senses, as soft mist from the steam enveloped you in a cloud of oceanic beauty. Subtle notes of sandalwood and sea salt wafted through the air, mingling with Mihawk's distinctive scent.

Taking long baths in beautiful atmospheres was something you had learned to savor by yourself on most days. However, having Mihawk's body pressed against yours was an addition you didn't realize you needed, as essential as oxygen.

You set out more wine, carefully arranging a small wooden table with filled glasses and decorative black orchids. These flowers seemed to suit his personality, and Mihawk didn't object to your choices. In fact, he seemed quite pleased with the ambiance you'd created, breathing slowly and watching your hand delicately trace invisible circles on the water's surface.

Soft ripples echoed off the walls, as a smile formed on your lips. “You know, for someone who claims to enjoy his solitude, you’re surprisingly good at this,” you declared.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, though you couldn’t see it. “Good at what, exactly? Bathing?”

His tone was flat, but the sarcasm was unmistakable.

You chuckled, tilting your head back slightly to look up at him. “Good at sharing your space with someone else.”

You seductively ran your foot along his calf beneath the water, a coy grin spreading across your face.

“I could still lock myself out, if you’re asking for it,” he replied dryly.

You laughed, splashing a little water in his direction. "Oh, come now. I suggested this arrangement, after all. I half-expected you to decline."

"Yet, I can defy expectations."

"Totally. And frankly, I think you would have missed me if you'd stayed outside."

“Miss the sound of you splashing water and interrupting my peace? Hardly.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes impishly, your smirk widening. "You're fortunate I'm so fond of you. Otherwise, you'd be dreadfully bored without me around."

Mihawk hummed softly, his arms encircling your waist as he tilted his head to press a feather-light kiss against your damp hair. The gesture caught you off guard, revealing a sweeter side of him you hadn't expected to emerge.

“I suppose there is some merit in having company... occasionally.” His voice carried a more serious tone, yet still held that underlying hint of amusement. “But only because it’s you.”

You smiled at that, resting your head against his shoulder and closing your eyes. The warmth of the water and Mihawk's steady presence enveloped you, creating an oasis of comfort and intimacy.

“Only because it’s me, huh?” You exhaled contentedly. "Good. Because right now, we’re stuck together."

A rare, tiny smile curved Mihawk's lips, hidden from your view but undeniably present.

His hands glided along your sides, reaching your thighs and gently coaxing them to part at his touch. "You do have a penchant for that sharp tongue of yours."

As you complied, opening your legs and allowing his fingers to skim towards your center, your breasts tantalizingly floated, peeking from the water. "Well, you know I can put it to good use."

He inhaled sharply at your remark, a low rumble resonating in his chest. "Indeed you can. But at this moment, I'd prefer to hear your voice in a more... enthralling manner."

You swallowed, pressing your lips together as his fingers reached your sensitive folds, while his other palm slid back up, cupping and lifting your breast. "Well," you breathed, "you certainly know how to unravel me."

“Mmh.”

Without preamble, his fingers slipped inside, sliding sensually through your inner walls and immediately curling to reach the right spot behind your pubic bone. His thumb swept across your nipple, causing it to harden into a taut peak.

“Ah!”

"That's right. This is a sound I like coming from you."

You were left speechless and breathless within seconds, your hips rising unconsciously as he established an insistent "come-hither" motion, the heel of his palm stroking your clit in the process. He held your breast firmly in his hand, pinching its tip and using it to intensify your mounting gratification. His every move was calculated, his knowledge of your body as precise as his understanding of any adversary in combat.

"Bold words. But unless you've managed to fit Yoru into this tub, I'd say you're not exactly unaffected either."

“I never said I was.”

As his arousal became evident against your back, you gripped the tub's edges for leverage. "Had you claimed differently, I'd say you're a poor liar."

"Shall I make myself more explicit?"

Your breathing quickened, your hips bucking with each deft movement of his fingers inside you. Your clit pulsed against his hand, sending waves of ecstasy through your entire form.

"No need," you replied, turning your head to find his lips mere inches from your face. His golden eyes studied you intently, never blinking once. "But, if you wish to do so, I certainly won't stop you."

Before you could even lean forward, his lips crashed against yours, his mustache and beard tickling your skin delightfully. His tongue was fiery and passionate, his mouth soft yet salty with hints of wine. His actions grew more fervent, the escalating stimulation causing an exquisite tension to build in your lower abdomen.

You gasped and moaned, your attempts to grind against his hardness thwarted by your position. Your hips rose out of the water, supported by your legs, while his skilled touch worked its magic on you. The sight of his fingers' deft movements, the muscles and tendons in his hand flexing and undulating, created one of the most erotic scenes you had ever witnessed.

As you climaxed, water splashed everywhere, your orgasm shattering your self-control and sending you into a frenzy of writhing and spasms. Mihawk continued to stimulate you until your walls stopped clenching, withdrawing from your core and letting go of your breast simultaneously. You panted against his lips, the Warlord savoring your pleasure and breathless sighs.

Your release arrived so quickly that you felt a fleeting sense of embarrassment at your apparent lack of restraint. However, Mihawk's proud expression quickly dispelled any notion that he was displeased. "Magnificent," he breathed, his voice a low, appreciative purr.

"You're quite the sly one," you murmured, finally regaining your composure. "And here I thought we were just going to unwind together."

"You didn't seem particularly opposed," he retorted, his voice laced with amusement. "We both knew this was inevitable."

"Are you implying I'm powerless against your charm?"

"Isn't that the undeniable truth?" Mihawk replied, his voice tinged with a hint of cocky arrogance.

"I can't really deny it," you said, turning on your side and guiding your hand to his neck. "But isn't the feeling mutual?"

"I must confess, you're the only one with whom I can truly lower my guard."

"Ah, so I am irresistible to you as well."

"That's not precisely what I said."

"Aw."

"But you're already well aware of the answer to that."

You smiled, submerging your hand once more and reaching for his arousal, which persistently pressed against your bodies. Your fingers encircled his tip, sensing its firmness and the intensity of his desire for you. "Well, if this isn't evidence enough..."

His grip tightened around your back, his reaction imperceptible, yet undeniably noticeable through the slightest shift. "Perhaps you should take matters into your own hands, then."

You sniggered. "Oh, back to the puns, eh? I see I've really influenced you with that."

You let your palm move, the water slowing down your motion, stroking from tip to base and back up again in a leisurely rhythm.

"It was more of a directive, but interpret it as you wish."

You nuzzled his cheek, your breath warm against his skin. "Any other requests, mister?"

"Just one."

“Yeah?”

He grasped your thigh, lifting it as high as the confined tub space allowed. "Be a good girl and indulge me for as long as I please."

A laugh escaped you as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "I mean, sure. But 'good girl'? Really? I’m almost as old as you are."

"Define 'old,'" he challenged.

"Hey, I didn't mean that as an insu—ah!"

The penetration was swift and precise, his manhood sheathing in you like a sword slipping into its scabbard.

"Care to finish your sentence?"

"Damn it, Mihawk. You've got to stop cutting me off like that."

"As you once put it yourself: I do enjoy keeping you on your toes."

You groaned and tightened around him, your lips brushing his jaw with a tender kiss. “Oh, you incorrigible rogue."

“Mmh.”

The position was awkward yet provocative—your left leg bent and raised high, sending tingles through your knee, while your right foot pushed against the tub for stability. Even Mihawk, with his formidable strength, found it challenging to maintain steady thrusts. Through shared determination and mounting skill, you both found the perfect cadence, settling into a slow, sensual pace.

More water sloshed over the sides of the tub, the thought of drying the floor later far from your mind. Mihawk remained perfectly silent, his controlled breathing through his nostrils the only sound audible besides the water sloshing rhythmically against the tub's sides and your moans. His focus on the act was as disciplined as his swordsmanship training, the way his fingers dug into your thigh sending heavy jolts along your spine.

Your voice reverberated through the room, restrained yet distinct. Mihawk escalated his tempo, his arousal throbbing within you as your fingers sought out your clit, hypersensitive yet yearning for more. You stroked it gently, once, then twice, the lingering electricity from your previous orgasm making it quiver. As you bit your lower lip, savoring the pleasure, your fingertips deliberately grazed his shaft with each calculated motion.

His breath finally quickened, and his pupils dilated so much that it became difficult to discern the golden hue of his eyes. “Keep going.”

"Lucky for you, I have no plans to stop."

Your movements intensified, fingers dancing faster across your tender nub while brushing his length with each powerful thrust. The dual stimulation amplified your ecstasy, building towards a fantastic crescendo.

You cherished each moment, pausing whenever you felt the edge of climax approaching, your body clenching and trembling around him. Then, with measured patience, you'd resume, your fingers tracing sensuous circles, until the craving for release became nearly irresistible.

“Mihawk—”

"Let go," he commanded, his tone husky and demanding. "Don't hold back on my behalf."

You ramped up your stimulation, losing all capacity to speak as your eyes rolled back. You surrendered everything your body had to offer, more water splashing out as your inner walls convulsed and your clit pulsed against your fingertips.

Mihawk's endurance proved more formidable this time, but when he finally surrendered to his pleasure, you relished his subtle groans with a deep, final kiss. Cradling his face, you gently raked your nails through his beard, your ragged breaths intertwining with his.

The heated room and your physical exertion left your muscles melting into a puddle of bliss. You sank contentedly against his chest, resting and relaxing, as he possessively draped an arm around your waist.

"Was that unwinding enough for you?" he inquired.

"Mmm, yes. I'd say that was more than sufficient," you replied with another satisfied smile.

"I have to say, this was an excellent suggestion."

You cacked. “See? I always have great ideas.”

He grasped the wine glass, taking a generous sip of the crimson liquid. "Don't get cocky now."

You delicately traced the corner of his mouth, collecting a stray drop of wine with your thumb. With a impish glint in your eye, you brought it to your lips, tasting the rich flavor on your tongue. "I wouldn't dare."

For a moment, he regarded you with the blankest of expressions, only to have it transform into one of surprise, followed by a smile—small, yet more genuine than any you had seen before.

"I might have another idea, actually," you expressed.

“Oh?”

You exhaled, adjusting your position to snuggle more comfortably against him. "Would you stay the night?"

"Aren't you becoming quite the daring one?"

"Well, it's a straightforward yes or no question, isn't it?"

"Is it your desire that I remain?"

You bit your lower lip, drawing your knees to your chest in the water. With a blend of hope and vulnerability, you answered. "Yes."

His response came promptly, outpacing your ability to process the situation.

"Then I shall stay until the break of dawn."

A warm glow blossomed in your chest, spreading outward to your stomach and suffusing your entire body. Your smile broadened as you fought to suppress a genuine squeal of delight threatening to burst from your heart.

“Right. You shall.”

As the first rays of sunlight caressed your back, the thin strap of your top slipping slightly off your shoulder, your eyes fluttered open. Instinctively, your hand wandered acrosss the sheets, reaching forward, only to discover the spot beside you was cold and vacant.

You pouted silently, yet you couldn't truly be surprised. It was a privilege that Dracule Mihawk accepted your company to such an extent; expecting him to change his habits for you would be unreasonable.

In truth, you found it exhilarating. The spontaneity of your encounters, with the Warlord seeking you out solely for your company, surpassed any fictional romance in its thrill and authenticity.

You yawned, stretching your limbs and sinking into the mattress. Blinking a few times, you dispelled the grogginess and blurriness from your eyes, listening to the gentle lapping of waves against your ship.

As your vision cleared in the soft morning glow, you noticed a dark object resting on the empty pillow in front of you. Rubbing your eyes in disbelief, you glanced away and back again, ensuring your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. There, perched atop the soft cotton cloud, sat a black, velvety square box. There was no note or hint of its contents, just the simple item placed there like a silent gift.

Carefully lifting the box, you turned it over in your hands, examining it as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. The velvety material felt soft and light against your skin, its luxurious texture rivaling Mihawk's own refined presence. As you opened it, the top lid coming off without resistance, the item within made your heart skip a beat.

Inside the box rested a delicate golden cross necklace, its elegant design gleaming against a small, dark cushion. With trembling fingers, you carefully extracted it from its velvet cradle, the chain composed of delicate links, as sparkling as starlight. The cross was beautifully simple, its surface smooth and unadorned.

A gift from Mihawk—for you.

In that moment, a realization struck you. Mihawk hadn't simply given you a jewel as a token of appreciation; he'd chosen the one symbol that truly represented him. The shape mirrored both the ornate dagger he wore on his chest and the cross-guard of Yoru on his back. It was a thoughtful gesture, meant to keep you connected even when apart, a meaningful memento he had evidently prepared in advance of his visit.

Mihawk might not have been one for traditional romantic courtship, but he certainly knew how to impress you in his own distinctive way.

Without hesitation, you fastened the necklace around your neck, a lump forming in your throat as the cool metal settled against your skin. You sprang from the bed with unbridled excitement, darting to the mirror to admire your new adornment. The pendant rested comfortably against your collarbones, its minimalist design exuding luxury. This small yet sophisticated addition transformed even your simple tank top and shorts into a stylish ensemble, illuminating your face with its radiance, enhanced by the morning sunlight.

Your face lit up with a bright smile, soft laughter bubbled from your lips, and tears of happiness glistened in your eyes. While the future of your relationship with him remained uncertain, his thoughtful present sparked a daring hope for something more profound.

In that moment, as you gazed at your reflection, fingers gently clasping the delicate golden cross, the true nature of your feelings for the Warlord finally crystallized. Despite your attempts to deny it, even to yourself, you had fallen utterly, desperately, and completely in love with Dracule Mihawk.

With this newfound clarity, you embraced the future fearlessly for the first time, as Mihawk had given you a compelling reason to forge a path alongside him.

Passing through your hometown's main arch triggered a surreal sense of déjà vu, blurring the boundary between past and present. The familiar sights evoked conflicting emotions; an uncanny feeling of never having left, intertwined with the stark realization of returning after a prolonged absence.

Your grip tightened on your bag's strap, its weight seemingly multiplying tenfold. The impulsiveness of your visit—conceived mere hours ago without warning—left you acutely aware that no one expected your arrival.

As you walked through the streets, whispers from some passersby who recognized you drifted to your ears. In contrast, the town's regular shopkeepers and residents greeted you warmly, their genuine smiles devoid of any underlying judgment. You waved back enthusiastically, returning their greetings without breaking your stride.

The journey to your family's establishment seemed interminable, stretching far beyond your recollection. Each step became a laborious effort, your feet growing heavier as if trudging through thick syrup. Though born and raised here, this place now felt foreign, as if you no longer belonged.

As your mind wandered, a voice you recognized suddenly called out from behind, catching your attention and prompting you to turn around. “Y/N…? Is that really you?”

There stood your childhood friend, her eyes wide and jaw slack with utter disbelief.

A genuine smile lit up your face. "Mary-Ann!"

Mary-Ann's grocery bag hit the ground with a thud, miraculously remaining upright without spilling its contents. She let out an ear-piercing squeal that echoed through the streets, then flung herself at you. Her arms wrapped tightly around your neck as she collided with you, the impact nearly dislodging your bag and sending you stumbling back a few steps.

"I can't believe it's you! You have no idea how much I've missed you!!!"

You laughed, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I've missed you too! It's wonderful to see you. How have you been?"

She reluctantly pulled away, her hands still gripping your upper arms. "I can't complain. Though the kids do test my patience something fierce at times. You'd think they'd mellow out as they mature, but no such luck."

"Some things never change, huh?"

"No, but that's the charm of it all."

She retrieved her groceries, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. "But what about you, lady? Are you okay? I was worried sick when I saw that bounty poster."

You shrugged, offering a wry smile. "Still kicking and breathing, as you can see. It's all settled now."

"I can see that. I mean, look at you! You're so... different. You look gorgeous."

“Aw, thank you.”

"I'm serious! Look at those killer abs. What on earth have you been doing?"

You flinched as she playfully ran her nails along your abdomen, the ticklish sensation penetrating through your shirt. "Well, life on the open sea really puts your physical endurance to the test."

"I swear, if I didn't have children and a husband at home, I'd join you in a heartbeat. Speaking of which, are you planning to stay or...?"

You shook your head. "I'm just passing through. There are some matters I need to attend to elsewhere."

She raised an eyebrow. "’Some matters’, hm? Do they have anything to do with a certain Warlord I've heard about?"

"Wow, gossip really travels fast in this town, doesn't it?"

"That's just how it is here. You should be used to it by now."

Shaking your head, you exhaled softly. "Yeah, I should've seen that coming."

"Oh, you simply must dish out all the juicy details later! Are you heading to the tavern? I bet everyone there will be over the moon to see you again."

"I am. Why don't you join us tonight? Bring your family along too, of course."

Mary-Ann nodded enthusiastically, flashing a toothy grin. "Count on it! Want me to spread the word to the others?"

"Absolutely! I'd be thrilled to catch up with everyone."

"I bet you've got some incredible tales to share. I won't hold you up any longer, though. Go see your family and get some rest. When are you planning to set off again?"

Adjusting the strap of your bag, you hummed contemplatively. "In a week or so."

"Really? That's fantastic! I can't wait to relive the good old times with you."

You watched her with amusement as she bounced on her toes, eyes sparkling at the thought of hearing your thrilling stories.

"Me too. Say hi to your family for me, and I'll see you all in a few hours."

She kissed your cheek, then crossed the street with the graceful bearing uniquely hers, a quintessential Mary-Ann trait. "I can't wait!"

As her figure disappeared around a distant corner near her house, you felt your body finally relax. As a recent high-profile fugitive, you couldn't help but wonder what rumors might have spread during your absence.

Finding that your longtime friends remained steadfast in their support, despite not knowing the full extent of your circumstances, provided a profound sense of reassurance.

With renewed confidence, you quickened your pace towards your destination. Arriving at the tavern, you skirted the main entrance and headed for the back door. Your heart raced with anticipation, memories flooding back of countless times you'd longed to come home without the opportunity to return.

At last, the moment had arrived. Your fingers trembled as you grasped the handle, stepping inside with bated breath. The kitchen was quiet, yet filled with a nostalgic tapestry of aromas you had almost forgotten: freshly baked bread, sweet jam, grilled fish, sizzling steak, and crispy fried potatoes.

The atmosphere was as warm and inviting as you remembered, with golden lanterns and fairy lights scattered throughout. Scented candles flickered in a distant corner, safely away from the stove and any flammable objects.

Tucked away in the separate pantry, someone was rummaging through the stocked items and ingredients, muttering soft curses and rummaging through supplies. It took you no more than two seconds to recognize the person, your lips spreading into a wide smile once again.

Quietly, you set your bag on an empty chair before stealthily approaching the pantry entrance. Leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, you shifted your weight to one foot. Your cousin caught your attention as she scratched her head in frustration, low grunts escaping her lips. Her gentle locks became slightly tousled and disheveled with each movement.

"Ugh! Where the hell did they put the pink salt?!"

Suppressing a chuckle, you bit your lip. The thought of remaining hidden to see how long it would take her to notice crossed your mind, but you decided to be merciful and end your cousin's fruitless search. "Second shelf on the right, bottom compartment."

Momentarily oblivious to who had spoken, she reached for the suggested location and discovered the salt jar tucked away behind the pickles and olives.

"Ah, there it is! Thanks, you're a lifesaver. I was about to lose my mind searching for it."

"You're welcome," you replied with a casual smirk. "Though I must say, it's not the most logical spot for it."

Suddenly, she froze, the jar suspended in midair, her body stiffening as if struck by lightning. Slowly, she placed the salt on a shelf before her, whispering in disbelief, "Wait a minute."

You remained motionless as she turned to face you, her expression morphing into a mix of shock and confusion. Her features had matured noticeably during your year-long absence, and you couldn't help but notice she seemed to have grown at least two centimeters taller.

"Y/N...?" She stammered, her eyes wide. "What—how—when did you...?"

"Easy now, I promise I'm not some spectral apparition come to haunt you."

Her shoulders sagged as tears welled up in her eyes. She pressed her hands against her mouth, stifling a sob.

"It's wonderful to see you, Runa. You look we—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Runa dashed towards you, launching herself into the air. She clung to you like an excited little monkey, wrapping her arms around your neck and legs around your waist.

As she began sobbing into your hair and shoulder, your heart completely shattered. With newfound strength, you effortlessly adjusted her position, supporting her weight as if it were nothing.

"Y/N!!! You're home!!" Runa exclaimed through her tears.

"I'm not staying long, but yes. I'm home, sweetie."

To Runa, you were more than just a cousin; you were the big sister she'd never had. Having lost her mother at a young age, she found in you a mentor and role model who provided both protection and inspiration. Evidently, neither your bounty nor the swirling rumors about your reputation had been enough to shake her faith in you.

Runa's sobs echoed through the kitchen, reverberating off the walls and reaching the ears of your other family members. The door flew open as your parents, uncle, and other cousins rushed in, their worried expressions quickly transforming into looks of astonishment and unbridled joy.

Again, your name resounded like a chorus as they all rushed towards you, nearly toppling you over in their excitement. Runa clung tightly as you lost your balance, your quick reflexes allowing you to use your legs as leverage, preventing a hard fall onto your lower back.

Your heart swelled with warmth at their elation. Embracing each loved one felt surreal, an experience you had doubted would ever happen again, given the countless perils you'd faced on the open sea.

Laughter and tears intermingled as you embraced them, over and over again, savoring each precious moment of reunion. They clung to you tightly, unwilling to let go, their hands tenderly caressing your face and hair.

And so, in the tranquil atmosphere of the nearly empty tavern, you immersed yourself into the early afternoon's exhilarating happiness. As you savored your mother's famous apple pie—one of the things you'd missed most while away—you regaled your family with tales of your adventures. Navigating the conversation proved delicate, as you carefully omitted certain details and steered clear of mentioning Mihawk. Despite Runa's keen interest in your maritime exploits, your family maintained a respectful distance, allowing you to share only what you felt comfortable disclosing.

Inevitably, the topic of Mihawk arose during the discussion. The precise nature of your connection to the Warlord remained ambiguous to those present, as the gossip circulating throughout the East Blue varied wildly and lacked credibility. You offered intentionally vague responses, only acknowledging your romantic connection with Mihawk. You stressed his willingness to disobey government directives for your protection, emphasizing how he safeguarded you from both bounty hunters and marines.

Fortunately, the gifts and mementos you brought served as an effective distraction, steering the conversation away from matters you preferred to keep confidential. Though you had no intention of hiding your personal life from your family, you exercised caution in sharing details about a relationship that was still taking shape.

Yet, a mother's intuition often surpasses all others, and your unconscious fidgeting with your necklace spoke volumes to yours, more than words ever could.

The day unfolded with a rhythm of friendly banter and tavern service. You seamlessly pitched in, handling kitchen duties and bartending as if you'd never left. While the place remained unchanged, your confidence had soared. Your interactions with customers flowed naturally, and you promoted the family's products with newfound finesse.

As evening fell, Mary-Ann joined the festivities with her family in tow. Your friend group also gathered at the tavern, creating a warm and bustling ambiance brimming with heartfelt toasts and genuine gleemerriment.

You loved every second of it, relishing the old flavors of home and treasuring the company of those who would always welcome you with open arms, no matter how far your journeys carried you.

Sinking into your old bed again felt nostalgically comforting, your room untouched as if frozen in time. Sleep eluded you, as the abrupt change in environment and the tumultuous emotions swirling within kept your mind wide awake.

Twirling the cross pendant between your fingers, your thoughts drifted to Mihawk and his considerate gift. True to his reserved nature, Mihawk hadn't mentioned it. Instead, he'd simply placed the box on your pillow as you slept, allowing you to discover it upon waking. His subtle approach didn't bother you, however, as it perfectly aligned with his distant and reticent personality.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when your feelings had grown so strong, perhaps you had loved him since your first conversation, or maybe you were already smitten when he began pursuing you across the East Blue. His piercing eyes, seemingly cold demeanor that masked surprising gentleness, and the high regard he held for you, all contributed to his magnetic allure. Moreover, his casual praise, sincere compliments, and willingness to defy the World Government to free you from their clutches only deepened your affection.

At last, you drifted into slumber, Mihawk's visage imprinted in your mind. His piercing, hawk-like gaze seemed to watch over your very soul from a distant shore.

In truth, he was a lot closer than you realized.

The following days passed blissfully, as you delved into in the cherished rhythms of family life: crafting beloved recipes, guiding Runa through kitchen mishaps, engaging patrons at the bar, and sharing hearty laughs with relatives and friends. Your parents were overjoyed, praising your acquired strength and fortitude, marveling at the way you maneuvered yourself around the place. For the first time, you truly felt the magic of the tavern, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

The irony wasn't lost on you. You had once desperately wanted to escape this very routine, longing to break free from your constraints and an existence filled with monotonous, mundane experiences. Now, after a transformative year at sea, you found yourself completely changed beyond recognition, fully refreshed and more attuned to life's subtle pleasures.

Yet, a piece of your heart remained on the open waters, in whichever corner of the world Mihawk currently explored.

The old adage rings true: once a pirate, always a pirate. While you couldn't consider yourself one in the strictest sense, you had embraced many aspects unique to the world of piracy. Your past insecurities had faded, replaced by a deep sense of self-acceptance and pride in your growth.

With the frenetic pace of sailing between islands for deals and deliveries now paused, time seemed to flow at a more measured tempo. Your culinary passion took a backseat during your travels, fatigue and inadequate equipment often prevented you from creating the dishes you once enjoyed. Although you hadn't cooked a full meal in quite some time, you were pleased to find your expertise remained intact.

Inevitably, you envisioned sharing a homemade meal with Mihawk, a welcome change from the hastily warmed dishes you recently resorted to during your makeshift dates. He never voiced any complaints, why would he? The quality of the food ranked among the best in the East Blue, with its exceptional taste evident in every bite. Nevertheless, you wanted to invest more effort, aspiring to present the Warlord with a more sophisticated creation that showcased your creativity and personal touch.

Distracted by your musings, you nearly overcooked the eggs in the pan. You removed them from the heat just in time, saving the meal from becoming a charred mess stuck to the bottom of the cookware.

As you were plating the final dishes for the dining room customers, your mother rushed into the kitchen, slightly out of breath. Her face was a mix of excitement and urgency, her expression hinting at pressing news she was eager to disclose.

"What is it?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"Y/N, why didn't you tell us?" your mother exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Uh... tell you what?"

"Oh, come now, dear. I'm talking about your boyfriend! If you had notified me of his arrival, I would have prepared something special."

You froze, your hands suspended in midair. "Wait, what?"

While Mihawk had an uncanny ability to track you down, it seemed unlikely he'd show up in the heart of your family's territory.

Right?

"That Hawk-Eye fellow. He's sitting at the main counter right now."

It couldn't be. Could it?

"He's here? Really?" you asked, your voice a mixture of disbelief and exhilaration.

"Oh? You mean you didn't invite him?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I most certainly did not," you replied.

"Well, what are you doing standing here? Go on, go to him! I'll finish up in here."

You watched as she gently removed the plates from your hands, ushering you out of the kitchen with the widest grin you'd ever seen on her face.

"Did he even ask for me?"

"Who cares? If he's here, it's obviously not to meet any of us. Now, stop dawdling and go! Hop to it!"

"Okay, okay!"

The kitchen door swung shut behind you, and you shook your head with a smile. Having Mihawk in your hometown was astonishing enough, but the fact that he was actually seated at your family's tavern seemed even more unbelievable.

To confirm your mother's words and rule out any mistaken identity, you scanned the dining room from a distance. There was no room for doubt; Mihawk's imposing aura set him apart, even in the bustling atmosphere.

Indeed, he sat elegantly at the main counter, an empty plate before him and a glass of wine in hand. His hat cast a shadow over his face, while Yoru, securely fastened to his back, emanated its ever-present, majestic dominance.

There he was, mere steps away, his figure a tangible reality. Though seemingly at ease in his solitude, his very arrival suggested an unspoken anticipation for something more.

As you made your way down the corridor, your older cousin suddenly appeared, leaning against the wall with a playful smirk and blocking your path. Mihawk disappeared behind his tall frame, and you resisted the urge to nudge your relative aside—gently, or perhaps not so gently.

"So," he began with a mischievous wink. "Are you finally going to spill the beans?"

"Come on, really? You're choosing this moment to interrogate me?"

"It's a simple question, really."

"I have no idea what kind of answer you're fishing for."

"I'm just wondering if I should start shopping for a wedding outfit," he teased. "I don't want to miss out."

You let out a snort. "Wedding? Micah, we're not even officially a couple yet."

"Are you sure? Because I doubt any man would come all this way if you weren't important to him."

Mulling over your cousin's words, you acknowledged their merit. It was unlike Mihawk to seek family approval, particularly at this early stage when your relationship was still evolving and finding its footing.

He was quite mysterious, not your typical man who comes with a comprehensive instruction manual.

"Look, whatever's going on, I need to figure it out for myself.”

Micah nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Naturally. I just wouldn't have pegged you as someone who'd fall for a guy like that."

You crossed your arms. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't he rather intimidating? That sword of his is enormous, don’t you think?"

A devilish glint appeared in your eyes. Ready to play Micah's game, you had the perfect retort up your sleeve. "It depends on which sword you're referring to.”

Your cousin’s face contorted, shock and revulsion etching across his features. "Tell me you didn't just say that."

"Well, you did ask."

"I didn't ask about his personal attributes, thank you very much. But I get it, I should mind my own business, right? Message received."

While you appreciated the humorous exchange, a more urgent concern beckoned, one you were eager to address. “So, are you planning to stand here all night, or will you let me pass?"

Micah raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, go ahead. I wouldn't want to be on your bad side."

"Good, because I could flip you upside down without breaking a sweat now."

“Aye aye.”

He walked past you, tightening the knot of his apron as he headed to the kitchen. "Just do me a favor and don't bring him to your room tonight. I value my sleep."

As Micah retreated behind the door, your heart suddenly raced, leaving you alone with a flutter of nervous excitement. The Warlord's effect on you was remarkable, causing your knees to weaken even without a glance or gesture from him.

The limited privacy in your family home heightened your awareness of your constrained interactions. You felt compelled to maintain proper decorum, which certainly ruled out inviting Mihawk to your bedroom for a night of passionate indulgence.

Steadying your breath, you approached the counter with poise, positioning yourself behind it as though welcoming a distinguished guest. Mihawk remained still, deftly rotating the wine glass in his hand and sampling its contents with the finesse of a connoisseur.

He was absolutely gorgeous, a breathtaking sight that evoked emotions far deeper than you had ever imagined possible.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the wooden surface and clasping your hands together. "I didn't realize you'd miss me quite so much."

Mihawk looked up, his golden eyes briefly lingering on the necklace dangling from your neck before meeting your gaze. "I merely sought a quiet place to drink."

"Ah, and here I thought you'd traveled all this way just for me."

Mihawk's eyes narrowed slightly, though a ghost of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Don't flatter yourself," he replied, his voice smooth as silk.

Your fingers grazed the table as you stood before him, allowing a charged silence to hang between you. "Well," you said, straightening up. "Since you're here, I might as well ensure you're properly taken care of."

“I’ll have another drink then.”

"Is that all? Have you sampled my mother's world-renowned apple pie yet?"

“The wine will suffice,” he replied coolly. "I require nothing more."

Undeterred, you offered him a genuine smile. "Oh, I highly recommend a slice. It’s divine. Besides, if you don't order it yourself, my mom will likely insist on serving you some. Trust me, you don't want to risk offending her."

Mihawk's lips tightened in contemplation. "I've faced far graver perils."

You laughed. "I'm not sure any of those compare to my mother's persistence. I'll bring you some wine, and a slice of apple pie, just in case."

As you departed, Mihawk let out a subtle exhalation. He had come to learn that arguing with you was futile, as your stubbornness rivaled the relentless force of a stormy sea.

Upon your return, you presented him with a slice of pie that was unexpectedly generous in size, bordering on excessive. He regarded it with a neutral expression as you topped off his wine glass, carefully filling it to a level that allowed for optimal enjoyment. Without comment, he grasped the fork and gently pressed it into the pie's airy consistency. He examined it meticulously, assessing its texture and density. To his silent admiration, the cake maintained its perfect form, not a single crumb out of place.

As Mihawk tasted his dessert, you occupied yourself with cleaning the counter and organizing the area. From his post at the entrance, your father kept casting furtive looks in your direction. Runa, busy with table service and final orders, openly scrutinized the scene at the counter, her expression hinting at some devious plan brewing in her mind.

You opted to disregard her, aware that paying her too much attention would only encourage her to put her chaotic schemes into motion.

Polishing glasses and aligning wine bottles, you fought to keep a professional demeanor, even as the object of your affection sat tantalizingly close, just an arm's length away. You should have known, however, that your cousin wouldn't let it drop.

Full of energy and exuberance, Runa bounced over to the counter where Mihawk perched, completely unfazed by his intimidating presence. Being young and boisterous, she seldom contained her reactions, often acting on impulse with little consideration for consequences. As Runa took the seat next to him, a discordant note rang out from your uncle's guitar. His younger son continued singing, while the rest of the patrons paid no attention to the brief musical mishap. The boy’s voice had grown noticeably harsh, betraying his clear frustration with his sister's brazen attitude.

Alas, there was no deterring her irrepressible spirit.

Without hesitation, Runa wrapped her arm around Mihawk's, leaning in with a teasing smile. Your face drained of color, and you shot her a deadly glare, which she blithely ignored.

"Hey, sir, you're treating Y/N well, aren't you?"

Mihawk tensed, his usual composure briefly faltering. He cast a fleeting glance at the young girl, barely turning his head, clearly unaccustomed to such bold familiarity.

Before he could respond, you quickly intervened, driven by an unbearable amount of embarrassment and annoyance. "Runa, mind your manners. You can't just latch onto strangers like that."

As you gave her another pointed look, her lips twitched. Still brimming with her usual cheerfulness and keeping her hold, she replied, “Come on, he’s family now, right?”

You wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole, dragging you into oblivion. The last thing you wanted was for Mihawk to think you'd been blabbing about him and whatever was blossoming between you two, precisely what you had carefully avoided discussing until now.

Mihawk remained stoic, though a hint of exasperation crossed his countenance. He fixed you with a piercing stare, his raised eyebrow silently conveying the question, “Is this what I've gotten myself into?”

Oh, she had really done it this time.

"Mihawk isn't part of our family, Runa. And he certainly didn't come here to be bothered while eating. Could you please be a dear and let go of him?"

With a dramatic pout, Runa finally released the Warlord’s arm. "Oh, alright. He's quite well-built though. Nice catch!"

Your eye twitched as she hopped off the stool with carefree abandon, skipping away like a carefree child.

You adored your young cousin, but her antics occasionally gave you quite the headache.

"I’m sorry," you said with a resigned sigh. "She clearly needs to work on her boundaries and social etiquette."

Bracing for a sharp retort, you were surprised when Mihawk simply relaxed his posture and took another bite of pie. "Your family is... spirited," he remarked, his tone flat but his eyes showing a glimmer of intrigue.

You chuckled softly, leaning closer to him again. His intoxicating scent mingled with the sweetness of cinnamon-spiced apples and caramelized sugar.

Your fingers grazed his, eliciting a subtle twitch in response. "Trust me. You haven't seen the half of it."

Exposing Mihawk to the full extent of your family's eccentricities was not high on your list of priorities. Nevertheless, his willingness to stay despite Runa’s quirks gave you hope that he still held you in high esteem, evidently unfazed by your relatives' shenanigans.

The night progressed with a lively mix of music, sumptuous meals, and cheerful conversation. Throughout the evening, Mihawk remained nearly motionless in his seat, seemingly lost in quiet contemplation while nursing his wine, taking measured sips at leisurely intervals.

You wished you could just whisk the Warlord away from prying eyes, but your duties at the tavern kept you tethered. Having been absent from home for so long, sneaking off with your romantic interest without explanation would be questionable at best.

As the hours slipped by and the last patrons trickled out, your family members gradually retired to their rooms. It was only then that you noticed Mihawk's disappearance; he had vanished from the main counter and was nowhere to be found.

Deflated, you sank into Mihawk's vacated stool with a heavy sigh, finding yourself distractedly tracing the freshly polished counter. Meanwhile, Runa moved briskly around the dining room, tucking chairs under tables and switching off lights as she went.

Noticing your glum expression, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Why the long face?"

"What long face?" you snapped, your voice sharper than intended.

"You look like someone just stole your favorite dessert right off your plate."

She sauntered behind the counter, crossing her arms and flashing a knowing smile, as if privy to a secret you hadn't yet discovered.

"I'm just tired," you replied, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

"Oh, come on. I'm not naive. If you're upset because your gentleman friend left, I might know where he went."

Your eyes widened, and your head snapped up as if jolted by an electric current. "Wait, you do?"

Her grin stretched impossibly, teeth gleaming in the dimly lit tavern. "Maaaayyybeee."

"And how exactly would you know that?" you asked, squinting suspiciously at her.

She waved one hand dismissively. "Relax, I'm not trying to pull a prank on you. He asked me about the quietest place in town, so I told him about that nice little hill you've always loved."

Your town was small and close-knit, where solitude was a rare commodity. Situated above the village, the hill served as your personal retreat before embarking on your journey, a quiet sanctuary away from the everyday hustle and bustle.

A smile tugged at your lips, impossible to conceal. "And here I thought you'd scared him off."

"Hey! Give me some credit," she protested.

"All right, sorry."

Runa slouched against the counter, tilting her head. "You really like that guy, don't you?"

"I could deny it, but I doubt any of you would believe me."

"Nope. Your eyes lit up like fireworks the moment you spotted him seated over here."

Had your reactions to Mihawk been so transparent, despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of casual indifference?

"You should go," Runa urged. "We're all wrapped up here anyway. And honestly, I'm about ready to collapse into bed."

You laughed warmly, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Thanks, you little troublemaker."

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, grinning despite herself.

As you rose from the counter, your cousin extinguished the remaining lanterns, plunging the tavern into darkness.

"Don't wait up for me."

"I don't plan to," she replied. "You grown-ups do your thing."

Driven by mounting impatience, you exited the tavern and strode along the road, taking your old shortcut and inhaling the crisp night air. The streets were nearly deserted, with only a handful of people visible—some huddled in corners, chatting and drinking, while others leaned unsteadily against walls, swaying in their drunken stupor.

Mihawk's presence in such a small town could only be attributed to you. A man of his stature and skill would find little to occupy himself in a place that offered no challenges worthy of his talents.

His decision to visit your family's workplace was undoubtedly deliberate and well-considered. Any astute individual would recognize that entering such an intimate setting would inevitably lead to curiosity and assumptions about your relationship.

“I doubt any man would come all this way if you weren't important to him."

With each step towards the hill where Mihawk awaited, your pulse quickened, a mix of hope and trepidation filling your veins. You worried you might find the spot empty, with the swordsman having already set sail for his next destination without giving you a second thought.

You knew it was irrational. You should have placed more trust in him, even as persistent self-doubt gnawed at you like a shark on its prey

You ascended the familiar path, winding through bushes and towering trees, leaving the rural outskirts behind. Your footsteps echoed in the stillness, the uphill trek feeling unexpectedly effortless compared to times past.

As you crested the hill, your worries vanished at the sight of Mihawk’s unmistakable silhouette lounging on the grass. His formidable sword lay at his side, while his hat rested casually over his face, creating a scene of unexpected tranquility.

With a gentle smile, you approached Mihawk silently, careful not to disrupt his serene state. You eased yourself onto the grass beside him, tilting your head back to admire the celestial canvas stretching endlessly above.

Though he remained motionless, you sensed his alertness, fully aware of your presence without needing to stir.

"I see you've discovered my secret retreat," you remarked with a lighthearted chuckle. "I don't mind sharing it with you, though."

His voice emerged from beneath the hat, cool and composed as ever. "Generous of you."

"Is that a nice way to tell me I'm interrupting your rest?"

“If that were the case, you’d already know,” he replied, his voice laced with subtle amusement.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then.”

After a brief pause, Mihawk added, "The quiet feels different with you around."

“Different how?”

Mihawk finally lifted his hat, just enough to cast a sidelong look at you. "Neither better nor worse," he mused. "Simply distinct."

Your smile broadened, appreciating the warmth in his words. "Is that a compliment?” You teased, gently nudging his side.

"If it pleases you to think of it that way."

You shifted closer, angling your body to face him directly. "Admit it. You can hardly stand to be without me now."

Mihawk arched an eyebrow, his eyes seemingly impassive, but the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips told a different story. "Not particularly," he drawled.

You propped yourself on an elbow, gently pushing his hat away. His golden irises instantly locked onto you, magnetic and mesmerizing.

"You can say it, you know. That you've gotten used to having me around."

He didn't reply immediately. His gaze flicked from you to the starry sky, where the moon cast a faint, silvery glow. Finally, with a feigned grimace, he murmured, "You're tolerable."

"Tolerable?” You tapped his side again, the gesture more akin to a gentle caress. “Is that what we're calling it now? Do you give a necklace to just anyone you find 'tolerable'?"

He let out a quiet huff, unaffected by your impish provocation. "Don't read too much into it. It suits you, that is all."

You laughed, seeing through his attempt to downplay the act. "Oh, of course, because that's such a casual thing for you to do." You moved in closer, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I suppose next you'll tell me you didn't sail all this way because you wanted to see me."

For a moment, his expression was inscrutable. Then, after a brief hesitation, he spoke in his characteristic measured tone, "Why would I? I'm accustomed to silence."

"Yet you prefer my company to break it?"

"I never claimed that."

You poked his side repeatedly, hoping to coax a proper reaction from the stoic swordsman. "Come on, admit it; you did miss me. There's no shame in it."

Mihawk's lips quirked into a hint of a smile as he deftly encircled your waist with his arm, drawing you near. With a touch of mirthful frustration, he placed his hand over your eyes, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. Your laughter intensified, resonating with genuine joy in the serene night, as your fingers instinctively grasped the thick fabric of his coat.

With a fluid motion, Mihawk bent forward, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a sudden, intense kiss that left you breathless, silencing you with his sensual embrace and holding you entranced. As your mouth parted in surprise, his tongue gently explored, brushing against yours with the confident grace of a skilled hunter.

A soft moan of pleasure escaped you. Your fingers threaded through his hair while his hand remained over your eyes, creating an indescribable intimacy that redefined your understanding of romance. Whenever you thought he had reached the pinnacle of excellence, he consistently found innovative ways to amaze you.

When he finally broke the kiss, he reclined on the grass once more, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your eyelids absentmindedly. You savored the sensation of his touch, allowing him to continue until his hand slowly drifted down to rest on your shoulder.

Consumed by the love you nurtured for him, you nestled your face against his chest. "I really love it, you know."

"What is it you love?" Mihawk inquired.

"The necklace you gifted me."

He hummed in response. "I thought it would complement your style."

"It does, surely. And also..." You trailed off, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you paused, holding back words that might lead to regret. “Well…”

Unfortunately, the die was cast.

"What is it?" he prompted, his voice a gentle encouragement.

Could you truly express the depth of your feelings, laying bare your emotions for him to see? Though he had made more than one bold move, Mihawk remained an enigma; his thoughts still a mystery to unravel, his intentions inscrutable.

Ultimately, you realized you had crossed a point of no return. Lying about it was pointless with him, it wasn't as though you had never expressed yourself aloud before.

"I was the one who truly missed you," you admitted innocently.

Mihawk's quietness was unnerving, almost deafening. But before you could reproach yourself for your lack of self-control, you felt the heat of his breath against your forehead. "What am I to do with you?"

It wasn't a question born of exasperation. His tone exuded something else, a warmth akin to fondness, despite the apparent indifference of his sentiments.

“Anything you want, really,” you declared.

"Careful with those words.”

You shook your head. "You know how it is, Mihawk. If I had to choose someone to end my life, I'd prefer it to be you."

"Nobody will end your life while I still breathe. And I certainly won't be the one to do it."

You closed your eyes as your hand glided across his skin. When your palm settled over his heart, you noticed something unexpected; though its rhythm remained steady, his heartbeat was quicker than you'd ever felt it before, throbbing powerfully beneath your fingertips.

It could be interpreted in various ways, from trivial to deeply consequential.

"If I were to die, would you mourn my loss?"

You nearly bit your tongue as that absurd idea flooded in you like a raging river. Try as you might, you couldn't sweep it away as quickly as it had come.

As you looked up, you caught sight of Mihawk's eyes rolling in mild annoyance. "What's with this morbid talk all of a sudden?"

"I don't know. It just crossed my mind. But I suppose I shouldn't expect too much, should I? It's not as if you need me."

"Don't underestimate my interest in you. I've already made it clear that I wouldn't invest my time in you if you weren't significant.”

As a whirlwind of emotions inundated you, a fresh burst of laughter erupted from your chest. "I really have to coax these truths from you."

"I don’t deal in meaningless words," he replied. "But you seem to have a habit of pulling them out of me.”

"I like hearing you express them, even if they're rare."

He observed you intently, his golden eyes gleaming like twin precious gemstones. “You’d rather I tell you than show you?”

"I appreciate both," you said thoughtfully. "But I must admit, hearing you express yourself so openly is particularly gratifying."

Mihawk adjusted his position, his arm still wrapped securely around you. "Then let me make this clear; your absence would not go unnoticed."

You lifted yourself, brushing your index finger along his jawline. "My, my. That almost sounded romantic."

Mihawk’s lips twitched. “Don’t push it.” His comment lacked its usual sharpness, instead tinged with an unprecedented tenderness.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before curling back against his chest. "Fine, fine."

Your nails traced the bottom of his cross-shaped pendant, exploring its smooth metal surface and defined contours. Relaxing, you immersed yourself in the soothing symphony of nature, from the gentle rustle of leaves to the crickets' melodious chorus. In the distance, you could hear the murmur of townsfolk still awake, the occasional bark of a dog, and the rhythmic crash of waves against the shoreline.

Mihawk's chest rose and fell with regular breaths, creating a calming cadence that transported your senses to a world of your own. You felt yourself drifting, suspended between reality and dreams, as weightless as a feather floating on the breeze.

Just as sleep was about to claim you, his low voice rumbled through the night. "There's something you should know."

Your eyelids felt heavy, and your mind was growing foggy with drowsiness. “Mh?”

When he didn't respond, you dismissed it as a hypnagogic illusion, a trick of your sleep-addled state. But then his voice resonated again, revealing something you had never wanted to hear.

“I’ll be gone for some time.”

At those words, you jolted upright, your eyes wide as you stared down at his unruffled form. Your sleepiness evaporated in an instant. "What do you mean?"

"I have some matters that require my attention. It may be a while before I can return."

Your stomach twisted into knots, and for a moment, your breath caught painfully in your throat. "Oh."

Was that the true purpose of his visit? Had he journeyed all the way to your village to personally inform you of his impending departure from the East Blue, rather than disappearing without a trace?

It was noble, and you certainly found that rather complaisant. Still, it didn't change the fact that you felt the ground crumbling around you.

“So you came to say goodbye.”

"This isn't farewell."

"Really?"

With a sigh, Mihawk sat up straight, facing you. His expression was serious and resolute. "You ought to have more faith in what I say."

Although his repeated assurances and actions could prove his sincerity, a persistent doubt was rooted in the recesses of your psyche. His motives were clearly not a pretense, yet that skeptical inner voice refused to be silenced completely.

"What further proof do you require from me?"

You pressed your lips together, contemplating the most appropriate response to give him. As silence lingered, Mihawk reached for the golden pendant hanging around your neck. "I don't give meaningless gifts. This necklace is more than mere decoration."

“I know.”

"If you do, then cease doubting my will to see you again."

His fingers withdrew, but just as you were about to lift your head, they gently cupped your chin, guiding it upward.

"One moment you're full of confidence, even bordering on arrogance. And the next, you're second-guessing everything over some imaginary fear you've conjured up in your head."

Undoubtedly, he was right. You often exuded braveness, freely engaging in witty banter without restraint. However, beneath that exterior lay a persistent insecurity, the deep-seated anxiety of becoming unwanted or irrelevant, overshadowed by a lifestyle you might never attain.

Mihawk was a Warlord of the Sea. His residence was located somewhere in the Grand Line, a realm beyond the familiar waters of the East Blue that you likely lacked the courage to venture into.

"I've given you my word that I will return. That should suffice. The real question is whether you're interested enough to wait for me."

Your eyes stung, but you stubbornly blinked the forming tears away. You had attained the life you always dreamed of—an endless string of thrilling adventures that, while dangerous, filled your blood with just the right amount of adrenaline. Waiting for Mihawk to reappear had become increasingly difficult, yet you held an unwavering certainty that he would find his way back to you sooner rather than later.

Yet, the duration of Mihawk's absence remained uncertain now. His duties might keep him away for weeks, and your separation could stretch into months or even extend to years.

You acknowledged your tendency to dramatize the situation, and the thought of giving up on Mihawk was inconceivable. If maintaining your relationship meant enduring an extended period apart, you were determined to persevere.

You were a resilient adult who had weathered harrowing experiences. Surely, a prolonged separation paled in comparison to those trials, if you could trust in the authenticity of his promises.

Slipping back into your characteristic self-assured stance, you tilted your head with a smile. "Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it?"

Mihawk grunted under his breath, letthing his hand drop. "Has anyone ever told you that you can be quite vexing?"

You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Sorry. I suppose that was a bit childish of me."

Mihawk's sharp features etched in shadow by the moonlight. “Childish, perhaps. But more than that, unnecessary. You know where you stand with me.”

"I do,” you murmured with a nod. “And that's precisely why I'm afraid of losing you."

His expression remained stoic, yet you perceived a gentle transformation in his features. “I don’t have the patience to constantly remind you of your worth, Y/N.”

Your grin vanished instantly, replaced by an expression of utter shock. Countless thoughts raced through your mind, but you couldn't focus on any of them. All you could process was the sound of your name, spoken aloud by Mihawk for the very first time since you'd known him.

And it felt exquisite, resonating in your ears like a perfectly struck chord.

“What did you just say…?”

"Has your hearing suddenly failed you?"

"No, I mean—" You touched his warm cheek with trembling fingers, his sideburns gently prickling your sensitive skin. "You said my name. You've never done that before."

"Unless you prefer I address you as 'Cutthroat' instead."

With a rapid intake of breath, you grasped the lapels of his coat and pulled him into another, fervent kiss. "Don't you fucking dare."

His right hand cupped your nape, holding you firmly in place as he deepened the kiss. With deliberate slowness, he lowered you onto the grass, his body pinning you down and pressing against yours. His mouth claimed yours hungrily, swallowing every enticing moan that escaped your lips.

And just like that, any residual doubts, fears, or personal insecurities you might have harbored finally dissolved, scattered like grains of sand in the wind, giving way to a clear path forward.

You silently hoped the wait wouldn't be long enough for time to leave its mark on your face.

Author's final note: Keeping Mihawk in character is a real struggle, especially when things become a bit more romantic. I swear, though, he's unique way of loving her is driving me crazy, in a good way. ♥

I might bring back some action in the next chapter, because I miss writing combat scenes. Also, I am considering to add another OPLA character, though I need to figure out the proper way to implement that specific idea.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 8 (coming soon) ->

#one piece liveaction #opla mihawk #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk x reader #opla fanfic

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