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dexlexia · 1 year ago

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how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader

pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.

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Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown.

Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line.

Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of.

”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.

So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink.

At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place.

There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far.

It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work.

You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.

You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world.

It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“

”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.

”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“

You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job.

”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“

”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.

You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.

The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young.

Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back.

”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”

You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."

He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“

You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“

He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.

You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant.

“Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair. He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes.

Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk.

“Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.

”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded.

You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit!

He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you.

Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“

The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord.

”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“

He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.

The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.

”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips.

He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded.

Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”

You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?

It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you.

You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you.

But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out.

“Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.

“You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.”

“Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”

“I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”

It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie.

You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“

He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved.

You responded, “Of course.” With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.

His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.”

You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.

He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you.

You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs.

“It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him.

Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing.

Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned.

His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.

Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.

The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.

Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.

“So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more.

Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman.

He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.

You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine. You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed.

He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms.

”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“

You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home.

Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened.

It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby.

You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious.

You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin.

”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss.

While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.

”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!"

You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."

He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property.

He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.

“You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.

You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him.

”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore.

”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“

He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass.

You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air.

“You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you.

You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“

He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“ Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“

You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“

”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“

You moaned as you started to roll your hips. You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.

Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster. Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body.

The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit.

You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.

You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!

Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.

Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved.

You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.

The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground.

You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.

Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face.

#dexlexia writes #reader insert #anime x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece smut #the cross guild #cross guild #one piece mihawk #one piece buggy #one piece crocodile #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader

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writingficsanddaydreams · 1 year ago

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Little Paintings

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: surely the extremely observant and powerful warlord of the sea won’t notice your little paintings all over his castle…

Content: pure fluff, with just a hint of romance. reader is written as autistic.

A/N: I recently watched a TikTok where somebody was painting cute little designs all around their house until their spouse noticed. It made me think of this idea. Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago. Enjoy!

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You like painting. Always have, always will.

However, you’re not sure if the fearsome Dracule Mihawk will appreciate it so much as you, not when you’re painting inside his crystal ware cabinet. Especially not when you didn’t bother to get his permission.

Not that you’ll stop.

If anything, it makes you determined to work quicker, nudging more of the delicate wine glasses aside to you can lean in and finish the adding paint strokes to the fine wood, creating a minuscule image of a little bottle in the back corner of the cabinet.

Is it silly for a fully grown adult to be doing this? Perhaps. Yet you can’t help but smile as you add the final touch to the tiny little label on the bottle, a small swirl of purple paint to match the label of the wine he shared with you yesterday.

Perfect.

When you extract yourself and carefully push the wine glasses back in place, the painting is completely hidden. You have just enough time to hustle back through the chilly castle halls and tuck your paints in your room before he returns inside from his sword practice.

He gives you quite the long look when you settle in the kitchen later that day, those piercing yellow eyes seeming to cut through your surface and see so deep. And though you feel your breath catch—as it often does around this formidable man—you force yourself to smile innocently.

“Yes?” you ask.

“I will be sailing out for supplies this afternoon,” he says after a long moment.

You nod and draw your knees to your chin. “Do you need me along?”

“No need for that.”

You sigh with relief, watching as he turns back to his cooking. You don’t dislike people, but you do prefer your solitude. You always have, ever since you were a child. It’s why you feel content to stay here now.

That, and how utterly delightful it is to watch him cook.

He’s terribly handsome when cooking, though you’re fairly sure the man would look handsome doing anything. His knife seem to blur as he cuts up the vegetables, then begins to prep the meat. When he reaches for the pans, his cross necklace shifting against his finely cut chest, your heart skips a beat.

Yet he simply grabs a pan and gets to work, seeming to not notice the tiny cross shaped sword painted just behind where the pots hang.

Really, it’s foolish of you to do this. Yes, art has always been a passion for you, but you are a guest here. A guest he has allowed to stay for some months, and a guest who has shared just enough casual, accidental touches that you hope it might become something more, but still a guest.

Still, you’re curious. Just how much can you paint before the great swordsman notices?

You’ve been at it for a week now, ever since you found the dusty little bottles of paint tucked away in a forgotten storeroom. You use every moment he’s out to sneak little paintings around the castle, none bigger than your thumb.

There’s the little map against the doorframe of your room, like the treasure map you were following before you stumbled on this island.

Then there’s the small ape painted onto one table leg in the dining hall, a far less fearsome version of the beasts that chased away your captain and crew when you all landed here. You recall how frustrated you were that they left you behind, a frustration that has long since faded now that you can count on the safety of Dracule Mihawk’s castle.

He walks past you now, a hand brushing briefly against your arm before he continues on to grab the spices across the kitchen.

Not an accident, surely. Nothing this man does is accidental.

That makes you think of the minuscule wanted poster you painted in the corner of your doorframe yesterday, in honor of the fear you first felt when you realized just who inhabited this place. Funny how frightened you were that first day. And the second day.

…and the third.

By the forth, however, you had figured out he likely wasn’t going to kill you.

By the fifth you’d determined that so long as you didn’t irritate him, he didn’t seem inclined to make you leave either. In fact, as days went on, you became fairly certain he didn’t mind your company.

Which is why you now play this foolish game of sneakily painting designs all around his castle.

You always considered yourself clever. Yet apparently all it takes are a few “accidental” touches and heavy looks for you to throw all your caution to the wind. Teasing a warlord, vandalizing his castle… such a perfect plan for long term survival.

Still, you do truly enjoy painting.

Your favorite are the flowers you painted along a small crack in the stones of the great hall, colored with a yellow that makes you think of his stunning eyes, the eyes that have over the last few months shifted from disinterest and disdain to… something else.

Something that makes you hope perhaps you won’t always be just a guest.

You’re not brave enough to make any moves yourself—never really have been when it comes to matters of the heart—but that won’t stop you from seeing just where these lingering glances and soft touches might eventually go.

Those same eyes stare at you again now as you make your way to the dining hall and pick at your food, separating the small bits of tomato from the rest of your meal. You bite back a smile as his gaze cuts down to your plate and he takes note of the rejected vegetable. Knowing him, he won’t use it in your meals again.

You honestly don’t know how a man so observant has not noticed your paintings yet.

“Do you need anything from the village?” Mihawk asks, startling you from your thoughts.

“I’m alright, I think,” you say. Given the nearest village is several islands away, you take a moment to think about it truly, but everything you need has been provided for you already. If anything, you’re far more comfortable here than you ever were with the crew you sailed alongside, a crew that only cared about you for your rough mapmaking skills—your least favorite thing to paint if you’re being honest—and were quick to abandon you when the first hint of danger appeared.

He nods and turns to his own plate. You try not to stare at the wall behind him, where you‘ve recently painted a tiny little figure sitting in a tiny little chair wearing a tiny black wide brimmed hat, hidden just at the base of the dining hall floorboards.

Trying not to giggle about it keeps you distracted through most of lunch.

“I’ll be off then,” Mihawk says as you both finish your meals, rising from the table.

“Be safe.”

Ah yes, because you need to tell the strongest swordsman in the world to be safe. You mentally kick yourself, but feel better when he offers you one of his rare almost smiles, even as he pauses by your chair.

“Don’t worry yourself,” he says, that confidence that you’ve come to admire woven through every inch of his words. “I highly doubt there will be anyone to challenge me. Truly a shame. Oh, as a note…”

“Yes?”

Your breathe hitches as he reaches out, gently taking your hand and lifting it towards him. You’re hyper aware of how strong his grip is. So powerful, yet intentionally gentle. Of how piercing his gaze is, those eyes that are so hard to meet, even as they set your heart racing. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a slow, deliberate kiss against it.

Oh.

When he lowers your hand, he’s… smiling. Not just that almost smirk, but a real smile. Your heart lurches again at the sight. When he speaks, it takes you a long moment to process his words around the pounding of your heart.

“The entry hall could use a few more flowers, perhaps, if you must paint all over the walls.”

Then he’s off, leaving you stunned where you sit. Your draw your hand close to yourself, staring at the skin he kissed.

You hadn’t noticed it until now, but on the back of your hand is just the slightest smudge of dried purple paint from earlier.

As you run a finger along the paint, you find yourself hesitating. Then before you know it, you’ve risen from your chair and are hurrying to follow, to catch Mihawk before he leaves the castle.

Perhaps you need some supplies after all.

More paints. New brushes. A proper tray for mixing your colors… and maybe even a true kiss from the warlord you’ve fallen for.

#mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #one piece mihawk #one piece

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benevolentcalamity · 1 month ago

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Beautiful Little One [Dad!Mihawk x Fem!Reader]

A quick note before we get started, I am only at a certain point in Enies Lobby. (You may know the one.) So like with Crocodile, please refrain from spoilers/fan theories.

Kay thanks, enjoy! Also hot diggity dog I vibe with this aesthetic so hard.

Btw I'm not confident in writing Mihawk since I haven't seen much of him, so pointers would be appreciated. Thanks fam! ^^

Content warning: Childbirth, breastfeeding (I don't know if that needs it, just in case.)

CURTAINS!

Labor was long and torturous.

Blinking in and out of consciousness, you don't recall if you've seen the sun rise and fall even once. The days leading up to this point have all raced together, melted like wax until they're indiscernible. For all you're aware, this baby had been ready to come out since Roger's execution.

A nurse takes the little red mass from beneath your hips, carrying it over to the bucket. Wearily you attempt to lift your head, squinting to see it through the fuzzy world of colors. Violent tremors overtake your body, forcing you back down, another nurse at your side in seconds.

Light pierces into your eye, your lips parted and your tongue pulled out. Your neck and wrists are prodded along the faint sensations of wiping along your legs. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, your one hand comes up to your forehead, eventually your arm falling across your eyes like limp noodles.

"Congratulations, Miss [Name]," You hear through the haze. "She's a healthy little princess."

Eased upright and propped against some pillows, you tear your eyes open, finally beginning to regain focus. Reaching out, you watch the little red blob being carried back to you. As the fog clears, you gaze upon her face, calming from cries you could not hear, and her little hand grips your awaiting pointer.

"... Is he still outside...?" You vaguely recall him coming, or trying to.

"Hawk...eye?" A nurse trembles. "Um... let me go look..."

Your gaze falls to the baby. She's calm and serene, finally in your arms. As her soft coos fill the air, the previous days become but a fleeting dream... No, the pain and sickness of pregnancy is all beyond you, all of it having lead up to her being here. It's all worth it - she's here, and both of you are fine.

Her eyes slowly pry open, gazing up at you. Their amber hue doesn't pierce you at all, but rather it's a warm glow. Not as sharp, not as striking as her father's, but one day, they will be as strong. If she's anything like him... which is quite the opposite of a far cry.

creak

Your head lifts back up, turning towards the opening door. Shadowed by the trembling nurse, Mihawk comes in a bit slowly, as though waiting for you to tell him 'not right now'. To be frank you'd be chuckling if you weren't absolutely drained right now. Gently stroking the child's head you manage an assuring smile.

"Dracule..." You murmur, the nurses leaving to give you some privacy. "Come here... hold her..."

Picking up the pace, he leans over to kiss your brow. "Forgive me, that I wasn't here for the whole thing."

Shaking your head, you maintain your smile, delicately passing her into his awaiting arms. At first it's hard to gauge his expression even with his hat off. His one hand comes up, stroking her little head as her eyes gaze curiously up at him. With a coo from her he brings her up to his face, peppering her little cheek with tickling kisses.

"Hello, little one..." He breathes, an uncharacteristic softness in his voice.

Through her giggles you sigh, relieved. "Isn't she beautiful...?"

He nods, holding her to his chest. "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Given how much he's seen on the seas, that's a hard accomplishment, surely. "... We haven't decided on a name for her."

Simpering, you reach to put a hand on his arm. "Well, you have so many good ones."

"As do you." He kisses her forehead. "... I've had Lenore in my mind."

Your senses return fully. "That's a beautiful name. I like it, too."

Holding her up, you notice his cheek crease with a smile as his beard tickles Lenore. For a moment he's completely lost, taking all of her in. From how his head tilts to foil her attempts to grab his beard, to the way his poking fingers tickle her belly, he's spellbound by her. Bringing her close, he kisses her forehead, noticing her beginning to fuss.

Delicately he passes her back to you, and for what must be the first time, a genuine smile is on his lips as you tug the blanket down to breastfeed.

"... Thank you."

Your eyes flicker up to him from her latching. "For what?"

"For the love you've given me, for the light you've brought to my heart..." His hand reaches forward, scooping yours up. "... And for Lenore."

"You..." You falter. "... Dracule..." Lucky you, Lenore has eaten her fill, drifting back into slumber.

"Oh." He notices your exhaustion, kissing your forehead. "I'll find the nurses, worry not. Here, allow me..." Gentle he pulls her from your lap, helping you lie back down. "Get some rest. You've done well."

As you drift off into the stillness, you feel him pull the blankets over your shoulders.

"... So long as I live, you and Lenore will be safe. I promise."

#anime #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fic #one piece fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #op mihawk #op hawkeye

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fanaticsnail · 7 months ago

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Grand Line Playgroup

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,200+

Synopsis: Adoptive parents have all taken the initiative to join together with their children to form: Grand Line Playgroup. This is the way it usually goes at playgroup: filled with shenanigans, support, and most importantly love for their children.

Themes: the adoptive parents of one piece, all children are all relatively aged 3 to 7, but Robin is 10, au they all live, modern au, platonic, not an “x reader” fic, parenting drabble, fluff, nonsense.

Parents: Mihawk, Rosinante (Corazon), Bellemere, Dadan, Zeff, Uncle Beckman, Shanks, Garp, and Smoker.

Children: Perona, Zoro, Law(rence), Nojiko, Nami, Uta, Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Sanji, Uta, Koby, Helmeppo, Robin, and Tashigi.

Notes: A small drabble about what it would be like if the one-piece characters were adoptive parents to an assortment of their toddler counterparts. This silly brain-worm was brought to you by several conversations with @feral-artistry & @writingmysanity, and the bestest aunties @since-im-already-here & @sordidmusings. This worm got to me and I needed to get it out. Links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff, @gingernut1314, @vespidphoenix, @i-am-vita

Dracule Mihawk arrives at Grand Line Playgroup ten minutes early every single Tuesday. He has a personalized gothic embroidered bag for both of his children filled with snacks, changes of clothes, water bottles, first aid kits, and a book for him to read while his two children play.

He wears matching nail polish with his daughter, Perona: today, she chose pink with black accents. He has parenting down to a fine art, everything always perfectly planned for any circumstances. Zoro takes out a collection of sporting equipment and begins kicking around a soccer ball as he waits for his friends to join him.

The next to arrive is Donquixote Rosinante. He always attempts to get there early: set up his variety of bags to ensure his son, Lawrence, has everything he needs to enjoy his time at playgroup. His hair is a blonde, fluffy mess of mopped curls, his clothes disheveled and askew, but his smile is always cheerful despite his constant exhausted exasperated state.

Law is a quiet child, not really engaging with Perona as she sets up a mock tea-party, nor Zoro as he kicks the ball against the wall. He, instead, opts to sit quietly alone and read a picture book in comfortable silence.

Mihawk offers Rosinante a moist towelette, gesturing wordlessly to his lips, cheeks and right eye where Law graffitied art with permanent marker on his face as he slept. Rosinante gives him a gratuitous smile, huffing his laughter as he scrubs at his face with the towelette.

The next to arrive is Rosinante’s old work colleague, Bellemere, with her two daughters in tow. Nami and Nojiko were walking arm in arm before rushing off to join Perona in her tea party. Bellemere gives Rosinante a clap on his shoulder, nodding her acknowledgement to Mihawk before taking her elected seat.

As the clock ticks over to 10am: a small bundle of nervous, chaotic energy bounces inside the door and over the walls. This flash of black hair was followed immediately by a small blonde child that stares, unblinkingly, at Law. Dadan is exasperated as she carries an older and asleep Ace in her arms, attempting to catch up with Luffy to rein him in and set up.

Rosinante springs into action, offering to ferry Luffy towards his regular playmate, Zoro. As Luffy nearly joins Zoro, he is instead drawn to the sticker book Law is holding containing bugs, beetles and arachnids. Luffy becomes entranced by the stickers: and he and Law begin cataloging them by shape, size and type over pages of lined paper.

Dadan sighs, already exhausted although her day has barely begun. Rosinante smiles and fawns over the two dark-haired boys before resuming his seat beside Bellemere, talking about the latest gossip at his old workplace and the shenanigans his colleagues' love lives.

As if on queue, Ace wakes up and immediately springs out of Dadan’s arms, hurrying over to Zoro and joining him by kicking the ball against the wall. Sabo backs into the corner of the room and glares with his pale, blue eyes at Perona’s tea-party with intrigue.

After Dadan, in comes Benn Beckman with his niece, Uta. Uta bounces on her heels as she runs over to Sabo, doing all in her power to make the small blonde smile instead of glare. She has a cheery disposition, guaranteed to always get a smile out of the quiet boy the longer she sings and pulls faces at him.

Zeff is the next, his young son, Sanji, sprinting towards the soccer ball and easily stealing it away from Zoro. They immediately get into a heated fistfight: legs and limbs flying as they butt heads as to who's turn it is to kick the ball next. Mihawk sighs, immediately rising to his feet to play referee to the match as Beckman places Uta's bag beside Perona's.

Arriving late, and with his two adoptive sons Koby and Helmeppo, strolls Garp. Dadan glares at him, up turning her lip in a snarl as Garp shepherds his boys into the room. The tension is thick between these two due to Garp's history of dropping off children at Dadan's and not returning to raise them himself. She refuses to help with the latest two additions to his family, although she cares for them greatly. Sabo nods at Koby, Helmeppo scoffs at Uta.

Another late arrival is a larger gentleman with his quiet and older daughter, Robin. Sir Crocodile is dripping in luxury brands, gold rings and smells of expensive colognes. Robin immediately humors Perona, Nami and Nojiko by playing mother in their tea party adventure.

“Mihawk,” the larger man gruffy nods in acknowledgement.

“Crocodile,” Mihawk mirrors his tone, gesturing with his chin to take a seat beside him. Sir Crocodile takes his seat before unrolling the newspaper tucked beneath his arm and beginning to read.

As the children interact together, the more talkative parents swap parenting advice amongst one another.

Rosinante asks for support with Law's current food aversion. How does he get this child to eat grained carbohydrates without him gagging about the fact it's bread? Dadan is a seasoned expert in parenting at this stage, still ignoring Garp as Garp speaks to Mihawk about his blonde son’s latest interest in kendo.

Bellemere joins in the conversation, Mihawk leaving as the topic changes to work and joining beside Beckman who is silently brooding on the chair beside Crocodile.

“No Shanks today?” Mihawk quips at the larger man.

“No Shanks today,” Beckman parrotted in return with a disgruntled and gruff growl.

As if the mere mention of his name summoned his presence, in comes the red-haired Shanks in a lazy and cheerful stupor. His socks are raised to his knees, tucked into some comfortable sandals on his feet. His cargo shorts are tied loosely on his hips by a brown belt, and his patterned shirt is open to expose his bare chest.

Glasses are lying lazily on his head as he extends an enthusiastic smile at the children before acknowledging the adults. An enthusiastic chorus of “Uncle Shanks!” echoes throughout the playspace, a flash of small bodies immediately moving to tackle and engulf the redhead in a warm embrace.

Shanks falls on his ass, holding high his coffee cup as he laughs at Luffy, Uta, Ace and Sabo as they enthusiastically clutch at him with grabby hands. Their faces all shine with the utmost adoration at the redhead, who shoots Beckman and Dadan a wink while mouthing: “I'm still the favorite.”

Beckman sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as Dadan rolls her eyes at him.

The adults are finally all gathered for their children’s weekly playgroup, the kids settle into playing amongst themselves once again. Shanks offers Beckman a smile before offering him the half-drunk coffee cup. The taller man takes a sip, choking on the liquid as the surprising burn of warmed alcohol scorches his throat so early in the morning.

As their meeting draws to a soft close, a knock at the door interrupts their close knit conversation.

“I heard there was a playgroup in here?” a gruff voice rumbled at the door. White hair and the scent of tobacco immediately sprung through the hallway. In arrived a large gentleman, another common associate of Garp, Bellemere and Rosinante who immediately sprung up to greet him.

Smoker presented ushered a quiet child into the room, her uncertainty was one the children knew well. Immediately, Luffy sprang up from his arachnid archiving with Law and went to introduce himself to the girl. Smoker smiled at the interaction, nodding to Tashigi as an indicator for her to go ahead and play, before joining Bellemere and Rosinante.

“Finally decided to foster, Smoker?” Bellemere smiled, embracing him into her warm and welcoming arms. Smoker returns her gesture, tapping her on the shoulder and releasing her from the embrace.

“Foster? Not a chance,” he smirked, pulling away and smiling at the purple-haired woman, “Adopting.”

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sunshinescribes · 1 year ago

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Between Your Name and A Prayer

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+), MDNI!

Summary: There are few who can say they elude Dracule Mihawk, and even fewer who have held his heart. You’ve done both, and it only serves to complicate things when Mihawk seeks to collect your bounty…or so he tells himself.

Warnings: SMUT! Ex!Mihawk, Angst, Yearning, Fingering, Emotional Sex, Rough Sex (PinV), Reader is a little petty/bratty

Mihawk knows he shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.

He shouldn’t be slipping through a sleepy port town in search of you.

He tries to blame it on your wanted poster, a reminder that you continue to evade the world government—evade him, but the lie is hardly convincing.

Not when he had spent more time than necessary staring down at your new wanted poster, his sharp eyes following the curve of your playful smile and catching on to your eyes, as bewitching as he remembers, and with that familiar glint of mischief shining in them. The look you give is reminiscent of the one you used to grace him with, just before you stole a kiss, or persuaded him back to bed—what feels like a lifetime ago now.

Mihawk tries to shake the aching feeling that blossoms in his chest. Your bounty has gone up significantly. Vice Admirals hiss your name over snail responders; wonder why you haven’t been caught yet. Mihawk is quick to retort sharply that he isn’t at their beck and call, despite what the Admirals might think, and that they can send someone else to catch you, or better yet, find her yourself.

He knows they won’t. It’s as difficult for them to track you down as it is for him, maybe even more so. Besides, they have an…inkling of an idea of what you two once shared. Feelings once held that they think he can use to draw you from the shadows. If only they knew how wrong their assumptions were.

He may be a hunter of sorts, but you are no prey. Mihawk has come to realize that he only finds you when you let him. You leave little clues—hints dripping with nostalgia. You tease him, dare the world’s greatest swordsmen to come and find you, and he accepts the challenge every time with the eagerness of an undisciplined child.

He has only found you twice, and on both occasions, you looked far too pleased, not surprised in the slightest to see his dark figure slipping from the shadows. You had smiled and teased him in a way only you (and a certain red-haired pirate) would be brave enough to.

You finally showed up, Hawk Eye.

Mihawk despises the epithet from you—the distance it creates, but it’s necessary, isn’t it? It makes it easier to fall into a night of ravenous bliss without considering that you two once shared a home and your hearts.

Mihawk continues to shift through the lifeless town, the chilly midnight air working like a balm to his tortured soul, allowing him a moment of respite as his eyes flit between dimly lit shops. This venture started nearly a week ago with Mihawk idly flipping through the newspaper, curious to see what troubles were brewing in the Grand Line. Little caught his interest as he read, but when he turned to the last page, his eyes lingered on a single photo. An unexpected offering.

You, disguised well and hidden in a crowd, your face was obscured by the hat you wore, similar to the ones donned by those beside you. To anyone else, you were nothing more than another spectator, but the necklace that rested against your collar screamed your identity—the same one Mihawk had placed around your neck a year prior.

What fun you must have finding new ways to reel him in.

The first time Mihawk sought you out, he had been certain of catching you. His objective left him the second your warm eyes fell on him, and your mouth ventured where his body had missed you most. The second time, he had sworn he would not be tempted, but his will had shattered easily. Mihawk lost himself as he pressed you up against the wall of a cramped room in a seedy hostel, your nails digging into the flesh of his bare back while he took you apart as he had done so many times before.

What would he do this time? Mihawk had tried to reason that he would not be so weak-willed—so foolish as to let you reduce him to a man incapable of thinking beyond the flesh—but the certainty he once held was steadily slipping out of reach with each encounter.

A frustrated sigh escapes Mihawk’s parted lips as he stops in front of a shabby tavern. His eyes follow the curves of the poorly painted sign, faded and scuffed from lack of proper upkeep. It’s lifeless. No music pouring out the doors or cheery carols of drunken men. No heady scent of rum or grog. The tavern is completely devoid of life, save for the soft, flickering candlelight that paints the windows in a warm orange hue, and a single slippery patron Mihawk knows is inside.

He ignores the warring voices in his head as he pushes the door open, and there you are.

You sit perched on the counter, legs crossed, and head tilted slightly as you cradle a bottle in your hand. You hum a soft tune, your eyes downcast and far off in thought. Mihawk thinks perhaps your thoughts might be of him, because he recognizes the melody. It’s the same one he used to whisper against your skin in the dead of night, ushering you into a peaceful sleep—just as it had been used for him, back when he was young and hopeless in the arms of a tender-hearted nun.

Your hushed singing halts when the floorboard creaks under the weight of his boots. Your eyes lift, and the somber expression on your face is gone so fast that Mihawk thinks he might have imagined it.

An impish smile graces your features, and your eyes lower as you take in the sight of his lean body, shameless and hungry.

“And here I thought you’d stood me up.”

You’re always quick to crack a joke, dispelling some of the uncertain tension that always brews at the beginning. You want this to be as uncomplicated as possible.

And Mihawk realizes suddenly that he complies, says little beyond your name, and takes what you offer, lying to himself that it is enough—that he will hunger no more afterwards…but his appetite is endless, vicious in how much it craves something it can never have again.

Mihawk takes a step forward, and you uncross your legs instinctively, spreading them in a way that would make the nuns he grew up with faint. Ramera, they would whisper harshly, before slipping into prayer. They would surely have some choice words for him as well.

Your smile slips when he settles on the stool beside you, instead of between your parted legs.

You want this to be uncomplicated, and Mihawk can oblige, as he always does—he can steel his unruly heart and silence the voice that reminds him of better days, sweet and silent moments in a drab castle that seemed to burst with life with you in it. He can do all this, but why should he give you what you want right away?

You sigh disapprovingly, before taking a swig from your bottle.

“So, you’re here to collect my bounty, then?”

Your voice is flat and unamused. Mihawk can’t tell if it’s a display of false bravado or if you believe he wouldn’t be able to manage it.

“I haven’t decided,” he lies.

Of course he has. He always decides. Before he even sets off to find you—before the clues bare themselves before him—deep down, he knows he’ll never raise Yoru against you. Never bring you to the admirals who have hunted you for as long as he can remember. He can play the part of the heartless hunter, but he never truly fulfills the role.

Your sly smile returns. You lean towards him, positioned in a way that makes your collarless shirt dip, exposing the soft flesh of your breasts. Mihawk is quick to look away, but you’re just as perceptive as him. Your eyes catch everything, no matter how minuscule.

You reach for his hat, placing it on your own head.

“How can I convince you to spare me?” You ask sweetly, setting your drink aside.

Stop running away.

The words catch in Mihawk’s throat. He knows why you’re running, why you won’t come back to him, not even if he swallows his pride and asks. The moment the words pass his lips, you’ll pull away. Stop being a warlord, would be your quick reply, and it would spiral into the same argument that had created the impossible distance between you two.

Neither of you would let up. You both would tear open tender scars. It would complicate something already too fucking complicated—shatter the delicate peace you both allow in moments like this.

It will do no good to start a fight he can’t win.

Instead, Mihawk lifts from the stool, reaching to unsheathe Yoru. Your eyes go soft for the briefest of seconds when they fall on the decorated black sword—such a stark contrast to others who have seen him wield it. There’s always fear, sometimes envy, but never fondness. Then again, only you know his sword as intimately as he does.

“You don’t need to convince me,” Mihawk starts, leaning Yoru against the counter, far enough so that it doesn’t become a nuisance. “You only need to take what I give you.”

You raise a curious brow. You’re used to leading these little liaisons, quick to chase pleasure you’ve been deprived of, but this time Mihawk needs something different. He needs you to want just as badly as he does, to see you as helpless as you make him feel.

“And if it’s not enough?” You taunt, always so eager for a reaction.

Mihawk doesn’t humor you with a response. Instead, he positions himself between your spread legs. A myriad of images flash in his mind—delicious ways to break you apart that almost make him shudder in anticipation.

He notices your pert nipples through your collarless shirt, untended. Desire takes him hostage, makes his hands almost shake as he works quickly to unclasp the delicate buttons that keep your skin hidden from him.

“Someone’s excited.”

Mihawk rolls his eyes when you chuckle, low and lovely. You think you have him in the palm of your hand, and you’re not exactly wrong for believing so. Though you’ll learn soon enough how easily he can turn your smart remarks into desperate pleas.

You let out a shaky gasp when you feel Mihawk’s warm mouth kiss your collar, slowly trailing down while his rough hands cup your exposed breasts, kneading the soft flesh. He whispers your name against your skin—perhaps a warning or a promise—before he takes your sensitive nipple in his mouth. A pretty moan rips from your throat when he adds the soft pressure of his talented tongue.

You try not to picture Mihawk between your legs, lapping at your needy cunt with fervor. If the wetness between your thighs is anything to go off of, you’re doing a piss-poor job.

Mihawk breaks away from your tit, a string of saliva following him as he tends to the other. It’s a lovely sensation, but you want more.

You snake your hands downward, attempting to unbutton your pants and slip your fingers where you need them most, but Mihawk denies you. His hands catch your wrist the second you finish with the buttons. Your breast falls from his mouth, and he fixes back to his full height, peering down at you with those piercing eyes of his.

“Hard of hearing, are we?” Mihawk arches a sharp brow, ignoring the murderous expression you wear. He can feel the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “What I give you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You glare up at him like a petulant child…such a shift from the confident, easy smile you displayed only minutes before.

Mihawk revels in it for a moment longer before choosing to be altruistic.

He leans close, his soft lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “If you want my fingers inside of you, you’ll take off those pants. Quickly.”

He practically purrs in your ear, his voice richer and deeper than you remember it being. You want so desperately to defy him. His words drip with arrogance that makes you want to bare your teeth at him, regain a modicum of control, but you also burn with such torturous lust—and maybe something sweeter.

You school your emotions, look as irritated as you can manage when you slide down from the counter, quickly pushing your pants down the length of your legs. Mihawk mirrors you, peeling his black coat off, before neatly placing it near Yoru.

Damn him and his stupid, perfect body.

You kick your pants to the side, tossing his hat along with it for added measure—just in case he thinks you’re happy to do as he says.

Your faux frustration dissipates the second you’re back on the counter, and Mihawk’s fingers glide across your cunt, coating his digits with your slick. You hear the words he doesn’t speak when he pushes a finger into your hungry hole—who’s excited now?

You shake, eagerly watching the way his finger disappears inside of you.

“Mihawk—”

He shushes you before adding another digit. You hiss—oh god—andhe pushes a little deeper, fucks you a little faster, desperately seeking that soft spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

Mihawk curls his fingers suddenly and knows he found it, because you make the most wrecked noise he thinks he’s ever heard.

Your lashes flutter, sharp curses spill from your plump lips, incoherent and crude. Magnificent…Mihawk muses, transfixed on your micro-expressions—the way your brows pinch together, the subtle tremble of your bottom lip after each pretty sound.

You clench around his fingers, teetering on the edge of your release. Mihawk’s free hand moves as if it has a mind of its own, finding your neglected clit.

Your fingers weave into his hair, pulling him closer. "Fuckfuckfuuuck," you practically cry into his shoulder. You shudder beneath him while a pool of pleasure builds in your core, so dangerously close to bursting.

“More,” you choke out.

The tortuous circles that he rubs against your aching clit are divine, but it isn’t enough. You want to feel full—fuller than his fingers alone can provide.

“Wanna c—hmmmng—c-come on your dick.”

You’re thankful you catch the plea that tries to crawl up your throat.

Mihawk swears under his breath, pulling his fingers out of your sopping pussy. His eyes are heavy, his expression is like that of a drunken man as he glances downward. He groans, watching the way you clench around nothing.

Mihawk doesn’t make you wait long. He’s quick to undo his dark trousers, works with speed even he might not know he possesses to free his aching cock—it’s so lovely, pale with the prettiest shade of pink dusting his thick head. Evidence of his own arousal pours from the slit, mixing with your own slick when he wraps his fingers around the base.

You watch him pump into his hand, getting his dick nice and wet for you. It’s such a beautiful sight, so fucking obscene. You can’t stop the desperate moan that pours from your lips. Can’t stop yourself from calling his name with a hint of urgency in your tone.

“Impatient—” Mihawk hisses, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He gives no warning as he buries himself in your soaking heat. You all but shriek as you feel the brush of his wet fingers against your clit again. “You have what you want. Now come.”

You try to hold out—you don't want him to think that he can make you shatter with a simple command, but your body betrays you. Pleasure rips through you before you can even consider a snide remark, making you cry out loud and cling to his lean frame. You shudder through your orgasm, curse between gasps, and Mihawk can’t look away—can’t stop the way his hips jerk reflexively when your walls flutter around him.

It feels so good, it almost makes him lose what little self-control he has left. Mihawk stills, grits his teeth painfully until his desire becomes just a little manageable. He won’t let this be another quick, meaningless fuck.

Mihawk lifts you with his dick still buried deep inside you. It almost takes you by surprise until you remember just how strong he is. He wields Yoru as effortlessly as one wields a dagger. He has taken down entire fleets with a single attack. Maneuvering from the bar counter to a booth is hardly work.

And you’re thankful for the change, feeling the cushion beneath you. It’s not the softest you've ever felt, but it’s certainly more comfortable than the damn counter.

Though it hardly matters, you don’t get much time to relish it once Mihawk cages you in with his powerful body.

“Missed me—” He thrusts into your heat, his pace downright brutal as his hips slam into yours. “Oh—OH, can’t you feel how much you missed me?”

God, you hate how right he is. Despise the way your cunt sucks him in and clings to his length. You feel the sweet spasms that wrack through you with each vicious thrust—how your walls pulse with a need to be filled in more ways than one.

It feels so fucking good—always does with him—and you’re past trying to deny it. Would you even believe yourself if you tried?

You blink up at him, watching the way Mihawk’s face contorts with pain and pleasure. How his long, dark lashes flutter. The way his delicate lips part and a sound that goes straight to your core escapes. He’s so beautiful—it almost drives you mad thinking about how effortless it is for him, as if he is something divine and otherworldly.

Is this the same way he sees you? When his eyes linger and he looks a little dazed?

His golden eyes lift suddenly, finding yours. Your breath catches at the expression you see hidden in their depths—the unguarded adoration. It’s so different from how he looks at anyone else—a gift only ever meant for you.

Mihawk slows the roll of his hips, moving his hand from where it’s positioned near your head. You can’t anticipate what he’s planning—can’t think beyond the tender look in his eyes.

And then you feel it.

The warmth of his palm as his fingers laces with yours.

The act is intimate, full of loving intent.

Your heart bursts as you blink up at him. Countless emotions flood through you—unceasing affection that you try to bury, the pain that still lingers, loneliness, frustration, desire—it’s overwhelming in its intensity, chases away the unrelenting conviction you’ve nurtured for months.

“Mihawk,” you call out desperately, “kiss me.”

Mihawk stills, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. He considers it for a moment, leans in ever so slightly before pulling away, cursing in his mother tongue.

He tries to focus on the feeling of you beneath him. Your warm skin, the rhythm of your erratic heart—but your request snags his like a twisted vine. It takes every ounce of defiance to deny you this.

Not unless you tell me you still love me.

Not unless you come back home.

“Mihaawk…”

You hate how your voice comes out in a low whine, but the need to feel his lips against yours is paramount. One final request to satisfy your heartsick soul.

“Too much.” His voice is tight, pained. “You want too much.”

His golden eyes find yours again. You expect his notorious glare, maybe even a sneer for good measure, but you receive neither. His eyes are soft…and a little sad, as if he wishes he could give you everything you desire, but to what end?

Hot, frustrated tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You try so hard to blink them away, but they fall without your permission, running down your cheeks all while Mihawk watches, his sharp brows lifting slightly in surprise.

“I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no venom in your voice, no spite. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate yo—”

You taste his lips before you feel them—ripe plum from a silver chalice, salt from the sea.

Mihawk melds his mouth with yours, reminding you both of just how perfectly you always fit together. You melt into him, feel lightheaded when he pries your mouth open with his tongue, desperate and hungry, as if he’s trying to siphon the air from your lungs.

Your nails scrape against his scalp, tufts of his dark hair curl around your fingers, and Mihawk breaks.

He rocks his hips suddenly, harshly fucking into you with renewed fervor.

“I hate you,” you say again when he finally breaks away, a string of glistening saliva still connecting you two. The sight alone rips a breathy moan from his throat, and he nods.

“I know,” he dips down, pressing phantom kisses to your lips.

Mihawk knows what you really mean. What you won’t allow yourself to say aloud.

You still love him. You never stopped loving him.

He tries to show you how much he still loves you, pushes himself as deep as he possibly can. Mihawk nearly collapses from the way your velvety walls hug him—so tight and snug that it almost hurts. He knows he’s hitting something delightful inside of you—something that makes you convulse and sob beneath him.

“Please, please—” he hears your voiceless plea.

Mihawk groans, resting his forehead on yours as he pounds into you. He hits so deep that the head of his cock collides with a gummy cluster of nerves, and you tip over the edge with a sharp cry.

Mihawk captures your lips again, swallowing your moans. You tremble, fresh tears slipping from your eyes, while your second orgasm rips through you, so violent and demanding that it feels like it wants to take your soul along with it.

“My heart—” Mihawk grits as your walls massage his tortured cock, take him hostage until he’s pushing impossibly deep. “fuckI’m—"

Mihawk doesn’t finish his sentence—barely even starts it before he’s flooding you. He comes hard, pumping your sweet cunt full of his seed, filling it like it deserves. Your walls squeeze him, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s too fucking much. He shakes through it, euphoria splitting through his body until every ounce of strength is drained from him.

Mihawk collapses, as boneless as you, though he does his best to refrain from resting his full weight on you. He offers you sweet praise. A soft kiss on the corners of your lips, your cheeks, your chin.

“I love you,” Mihawk murmurs against your skin, so low you nearly miss it.

You’re too spent to react, though you’re uncertain of what you would do even if you could. You want the warmth of his touch, his kisses, and honeyed words. You want that fond look in his eyes and the tender care he offers only to you.

But are you willing to forgive? To forget how you two ended up here?

You ignore your mind’s inquiry. You allow yourself to crave, to fall deeper into this pleasant mirage as your eyes grow heavy.

When the sun rises, you will have to face this, but for now, you let yourself slip into a fantasy where you can love him without consequence.

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x y/n #mihawk x y/n #x reader

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trashytoastboi · 8 months ago

Text

🦅Dracule Mihawk Masterlist🦅

🦅 Headcanons: Confessing to F! Crush who is afraid of love

🦅 Headcanons: Shanks, Mihawk x S/O Who cannot fight or handle weapons

🦅 Headcanons: Corazon, Zoro, Mihawk x Royal! Reader – Working as their bodyguard

🦅 Fluff Alphabet: I, F, C

🦅 Headcanons: Shanks, Benn, Mihawk x S/O Who tends to isolate themselves when they feel they’re becoming a burden

🦅 Headcanons: Benn, Crocodile, Mihawk x Warm-hearted F! S/O

🦅 Headcanons: Modern AU! Shanks, Benn, Mihawk

🦅 Scenario: Fairy Tale AU! Mihawk x F! Reader

🦅 Headcanons: Mihawk, Marco – Random headcanons with F! S/O

🦅 Scenario: Shanks and Mihawk with F! Crewmate – Competing for her attention

🦅 Scenario: Mihawk x F! S/O - #15. I can’t think straight with you

🦅 Headcanons: Doflamingo, Crocodile, Mihawk - #16. Don’t give me space, that’s the last thing I want from you.

🦅 Short Scenario: Mihawk x F! S/O - #11. Making the other laugh

🦅 NSFW Headcanons: Ace, Zoro, Mihawk, Sabo, Law – Reacting to S/O being brought to tears of pleasure

🦅 Headcanons: Mihawk, Smoker, Corazon (+ Child Law) and Katakuri – with F! Keyblade wielder

🦅 NSFW Headcanons: Benn, Law, Ace, Mihawk x Virgin! S/O

🦅 Headcanons: Male! Keyblade Wielder! Training with Zoro under Mihawk, reuniting in Dressrosa and being invited to the crew by Luffy

🦅 NSFW Headcanons: Mihawk, Marco x Shy! S/O who has a size kink

🦅 NSFW Headcanons: Dom! Law, Dom! Mihawk, Dom! Katakuri x Sub! F! S/O – In subspace

#trashytoastboi #mihawk #dracule mihawk #fluff #one piece #sfw #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #one piece headcanon #female reader #male reader #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #unholy toast #character masterlist #masterlist

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alexa-fika · 10 months ago

Note

Whatever you do is going to be good anyway

But the scenario am picturing is in Marineford

Winged Reader is with Mihawk and he's hiding but during the chaos he finds himself hiding in the Whitebeards ship

And when they save Ace the escape with Mihawk's son And they try to help him go back to Mihawk

But if you want to change anything that's okay

🐼💕~

Enemies yesterday, Babysitters today ( Whitebeard pirates x male!oDracule!child!reader)

A/N: Okay yall I honestly might revisit this later and add more wholesomeness to it cause im not completely content with the level it has right now, but you tell me does it make you kick your feet?

Dividers by @/saradika

“Gurararara Ace, how are you feeling?”

"Doing good pops, still mad my jolly Roger got erased,” he grumbles

“We can do the tattoo Again; just be glad you are only missing that and not your life; you were almost a goner there.” Marco sighs

“Fair enough, still stings when I look in the mirror, though,” he mumbles

A crash sounds across the ship as what sounds like boxes and a scream echo from the storage room of the Moby Dick

“We might have a stowaway…” Marco notes

“Is it one of the bastards from Marineford?” Jozu growls, activating his devil fruit

“Be Careful, Jozu, we do not know who we are dealing with here,” Izou says, pulling out his guns

“Don’t even think about it, Sir; you are still healing,” One of the nurses comments, looking towards Whitebeard, who grunts in response

“We’ll handle it, pops; I don’t mind a little exercise; I’m bored, and if it is one of the bastards, I need to let out some steam,” he says, walking towards the storage room; the rest of the commanders, following behind him

“Whoever they are, they should be able to hold their own if they managed to make it on board,” Thatch says, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle.

“I wonder what they would be doing in the storage, though…”

“It’s probably a marine stowaway; probably best to show him some rough treatment,” Vista says as he smirks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Come on out.” He calls our

Ace kicks the door open.

“Alright, whoever you are, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Ace says, grinning

“If they don’t answer, then we’ll have to find them ourselves,” Marco says as he begins to activate his power

Ace walks ahead and peeks into the corner where the commotion could be heard from, and he stills, making gestures to their fellow commanders to lower their weapons as he kneels down

“Ace, be careful; a wounded man is still a threat, especially the ones trying to hide,” Marco states as walking next to the second commander

“Don’t lower your…guard.” he stops glancing at their stowaway

“Pop’s is going to love this one,” he mutters, turning back to the rest of the commanders

“It’s a kid”

“What, is this someone’s kid? A stray?” Izou questions, looking down at the stowaway

Reader glances between all the men staring him down, inching back and trying to make himself smaller, covering himself with his wings

“Kid, what brings you here ?” Ace says with a soft voice,

“How were you able to get on board? How long have you been hiding for?” Ace says as he sits on his knees to meet the kid's height, looking at him directly in his eyes

Reader glances at Ace for a second but lowers his face and tries to dig himself deeper into his caccoon between his wings

“He's scared, a very brave kid, that one, I would be too if I was in this situation.” He says, smiling kindly at the stowaway,

“Hey, it's ok, you're safe now.”

“Wait.. you’re, you're the kid that was with Hawkeye when we were dueling,” Vista states, taking a closer look at the winged child

Reader looks up at that

“You know, Dad?” He mumbles

“Oh yes, yes, we know who he is,” Vista answers as he gets on his knees beside Ace.

“What are you doing on this ship, kid? You know this isn’t the type of lifestyle for someone as young as you?”

He unfurls himself from His wings slightly

“I -I left the raft. Dad told me to stay on the raft no matter what, but I thought he was going to get hurt, and then Uncle Shanks came, and I got scared they were going to fight again,” he rambles on

“I think we finally have the story here. That sounds like an adventurous kid,” Ace says, rubbing his brow in thinking

“A bit brave and reckless, too,” he adds on

“He’s definitely got a good head on his shoulders,” Izou says approvingly of the boy

“Okay, you ended up on the battlefield because you got scared for your father, but how did you end up here in the Moby Dick.” Inquires Marco, looking down at him

“Everything was confusing; there was so much going on, so umm, I kinda ended up here..”

“Aww, Kid, we’ve all been through times like that; I’m sure your father will be grateful you at least took the initiative to get to him,” Thatch says with a smile.

“But, you can’t just board a pirate’s ship and expect them to be kind; you might not be as lucky next time,” he says, kneeling down in front of him

Marco sighs

“let’s bring him out to Pops; we’ll talk about what we’ll do from there.”

“Yes, I think that’s enough questions for now; I don’t think this kid needs a full-on interrogation just yet,” Vista adds.

Reader gets up hesitantly and approaches Vista, stretching his up, opening and closing his hands

Vista chuckles, lifting the child and putting him on his hip

“Are you really Hawkeyes kid?”

He nods

“Are you friends with Dad?”

“Not exactly…I mean, we know each other and have fought before…” Vista trails off, slightly unsure of what he wants to say

“There’s…mutual respect between us, but we have found ourselves on opposite sides on the battlefield.” he says, mulling over his words, trying to define their relationship best not to alarm the small child.”

“Regardless, we will help you return to your father; do not worry.” Ace states

“What are your names?”

“I am Vista of the Flower Swords”

He gestures at the group

Portgas D. Ace.”

“Jozu of the Diamond”

“Marco the Phoenix”

“Thatch, Head of the Ships Cooks

Flintlock Pistols Izou.”

“Geez, Vista, No need to be so formal.” Thatch sighs

Reader smiles, his wings flapping happily behind him

“Im Dracule Reader, umm Reader from Papa!”

“Reader? What an interesting name for a little boy.” Izou says with a slight chuckle

“This is Pops, Whitebeard, the captain of this ship,” Vista says, walking in front of said man

Reader awes at the man fluttering out of Vista’s hold and up to Whitebeard

“You’re big! You’re bigger than the humandrills at home!” He says, circling around him

“I was wondering who was making that ruckus; what brings this brat here,” he says, glancing at the flying boy

“He said his name was Reader, Dracule Reader,” Marco said, glancing up at both

“Dracule? What is your relation to Hawkeye?”

“That’s Papa!”

“Hawkeye is your father?” He says, looking over to Marco, who nods

“Vista confirmed it; he saw this one lingering around the battlefield close to Hawkeye.”

“That is correct, pops; the little one is Hawkeye's son,” he says proudly, pointing at Reader

“We found him hiding in the storage room.” Marco clarified

“He said he followed his father into the battlefield but lost him in the heat of the battle,” Vista says, explaining the circumstances as to how Reader found his way to Whitebeard's crew

“I see, in that case, Bring me a Den Den Moshi,” Whitebeard says to one of the nurses next to him

“We’ll get into contact with your father.”

“You’ll help me get back? But Mister Vista of the Flower swords said you were fighting with Dad.”

“Yes, your father and we are on opposite sides; however, your father was just following orders from the Marines, and regardless if he was an enemy or not, you are not. I know the pain of losing a son,” he says, glancing at Ace

“Because I know the pain, I do not wish it upon anyone right now; this is not between enemies but between fathers. You were not involved in the fight, and as such, there is no need for you to suffer from it,” he grunts as the nurses bring him the Den-Den Mushi

Reader’s lip quivers

“Thank you!”

“You’re safe now, kid; we’re going to call your dad and let him know you’re safe; once we do, we can arrange somewhere to meet. You’re lucky you picked the right ship to stow away on, kid,” Marco says

“I’m sure your father is worried sick trying to find you. Don’t worry; we’ll make the arrangements to get you back to your dad,” Thatch says with a smile

Reader flies down to to where the commenders stood

“Thank you, Marco, the Phoenix and Thatch head of ship cooks.”

Marco chuckles at this

“Vista, this is why I said not to be so formal! Oi kid, no need for titles.” Thatch groans out

“Is Thatch head of the ships cooks not your name? But Vista of the flower swords said those were your names?”

Thatch chuckles

” You’re something else, kid; I like you.”

“Ah?” He tilts his head, confused

“I can see you are going to be quite the handful; Vista told you our names and Epithets, surnames in Ace’s case; you don’t need to call me Flintlock Pistols Izou; you can just call me Izou,” he comments, chuckling, along with the other commanders

”Izou’s right; we all have titles or epithets; you’ve got a good head on you, kid; how about you give it a try,” the chef said, gesturing to himself

“Umm, Thatch Cooks?”

“Cooks? Now I’m not sure if you’re messing with me or not,” he laughs

“Not quite that; try again, just one word,” he says while trying to hold back his laughter

“Thatch?”

“That’s right, see, not so hard you’re already learning.” he laughs and ruffles his head

He beams at the compliment and glances at Vista

“Vista?”

“Haha, that’s my name, kid,” he says.

“Well done!” he exclaims happily, picking him up once again and placing him on his shoulders

Joyous giggles escape the small boy, holding onto his head and flapping his wings occasionally to keep balance until he picks up the sound of the Den Den Mushi ringing and a familiar voice coming through

“Hawkeye,” Whitebeard calls curtly

“What do you want, Shirohige? If this concerns the recent battle, I really do not have time-

“It’s about your son; he is here.”

Mihawk falls silent for a moment

“What?”

“Your son stowed away on the Moby Dick; he said he was trying to escape the head of the battle and ended up in my ship.”

“Where are you?”

“We are approaching Sabaody Archipelago.”

“Very well. I will be there shortly.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” he said, hanging up and glancing toward the child

“He will meet us at the next Island.”

Reader can’t help but laugh with relief, glad that they will see their father soon

Vista chuckles

“You’re in a better mood than you were when we first discovered you now, aren’t you?”

He nods

“Im gonna see Dad again!”

“You sure are; you just have to stick with us, and we’ll ensure you get to him safe and sound,” Ace exclaims

“Okay!”

Vista smiles, taking off his iconic hat and placing it over the child

They giggle as the hat envelops them, and he raises it slightly to take a small peek and be able to see

Ace smiles at the gesture, happy to see the kid smile after the traumatic ordeal he’s been through

“Glad you are in a better mood,” Ace grins, ruffling Reader’s hair

“That’s good to hear, kid; I’m happy as well,” Marco adds, giving the kid’s hat a little pat before pulling it back down to cover them

They shriek cheerfully as they are once again enveloped by the hat

“Gurararara, We’ve got ourselves a live one; didn't get that from your father, that’s for sure.” he grinned as the ship pulled up to the Archipelago; it was still dark out but slowly beginning to become morning in the distance

“Hm? Isin’t that Hawkeye over there?” Thatch comments, squinting his eyes to a small raft that slowly approached the Moby Dick

“Let’s not get too close to the raft; let him approach us,” Izou says, looking towards the raft

“He won’t try anything, not with his son here, and Im sure even someone like him can tell when he is outnumbered with all of our commanders and pops here Marco says, leaning against the railing and staring at the approaching raft

Ace approaches the railing, trying to get a better view of the raft, looking to make out the figure at the front

“It is him.”

“Dad?” The small child says, peeking out from under the hat again

“Dad!” He exclaims, taking off towards the approaching raft, ignoring the calls from the pirates as he barrels into Mihawk, hugging him tightly, tears pooling in his eyes as he apologizes repeatedly.

“I’m sorry, Dad; you told me to stay in the raft, but I thought you would get hurt, and I just caused more trouble for you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cries

Mihawk stands frozen for a second, taken back by his son’s words

“No. Your apology is unnecessary. The fault lies in me for leaving you alone. What’s important is that you are back with me now.” he says, embracing him

“Look, I require you to stay by my side from now on, okay? No more running off by yourself.” Mihawk says as the raft gradually comes closer to the Moby Dick.

He nods his head vigorously, the hat too big for his head, wobbling around at the movement

Mihawk glances up at the hat and raises an eyebrow mutely, questioning his child

“It’s Mister Vista’s”

“Is that so?” he says, glancing up at the Moby Dick, spotting said man along with the commanders and Whitebeard himself leaning against the railing, watching father and son

Whitebeard’s gaze slowly falls upon Mihawk.

“You’ve got yourself a handful there, Hawkeye. But I must say, it’s good to see someone capable of putting the past behind them; such is the innocence of childhood.”

“Indeed, it is something that I have sworn myself to protect at all cost,” he says, looking back upon his son

“We meet Again, Hawkeye,” Vista says, grinning at the swordsman

“It seems we do, Vista of the Flower Swords; you have my gratitude for taking care of my son

“It was my pleasure; he is definitely something special, though,” he says with a chuckle

“Let us finish the fight we put on hold the next time we see each other; I anxiously wait to see who will come on top; the promise of that is enough payment for me.”

“Then so it shall be; the next time we encounter, we will let our blades finish what they started,” he said, preparing to return home with his son

“Ah, wait!” He said, flying back to the Moby Dick and gently placing Vista’s hat on his head once again

“Thank you, Mister Vista, thank you, everyone; I hope I can see you again! I had fun!”

“You’ll be seeing me again someday, kid, so make sure you do all you can to get stronger,” he says, lowering the child to the ground, ruffling his hair

“You’re going to make quite a fine pirate someday,” Vista laughs, ruffling the boy’s hair. “now get on back to your father and get some rest; this was a big day for you.”

“And don’t worry, kid, all of you are always welcome on my ship; just make sure next time to board it the proper way and not as a stowaway,” Whitebeard says with a broad smile

“I couldn’t agree more. Don’t be a stranger, kid!” Ace says to the pair as he watches over the kid

“You’re lucky it was us you picked to stow away with, kid; you have nothing to worry about from us,” Marco adds, ruffling Reader’s head

Whitebeard’s gaze falls upon the two once again as they bid their farewells to the kid

Future parts with Uncle shanks? Or Maybe Whitebeard pirates babysitting?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

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alexa-fika · 11 months ago

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AYOOOOOOOOOOOO

ewwWww

So- i usually just draw OC's, mostly dragos, But i do draw humans occasionally. Ive NEVER DRAWN, a actual anime character, let alone a child

so, forgive how HorrIBlLe this is

also happy new years :)

@alexa-fika cough cough.. for midnight lessons...

#dracule mihawk #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x child!reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader

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naraeragon · 10 months ago

Text

Sleepwear. Cuddling. Nuzzling.

#his hair is hard to draw af #my art #one piece #one piece x reader #dracule mihawk #child mihawk #mihawk x reader #my ocs #witch #let's meet at the witch's gathering #魔女集会で会いましょう #i wish i was in his place

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gingernut1314 · 10 months ago

Text

One Piece Masterlist 🏴‍☠️

A/N: Fics inspired by the anime and live-action

↞ to Blog Navigation | Requests ↠

Guide:

⏳ = Coming Soon 🖋️= Ongoing ✔️ = Competed 🧨 = NSFW 📚 = Series 🎟️ = One-shot 👒 = Headcanon 🏷️ = Drabble

Buggy the Clown 🤡

ᥫ᭡ The Agreement 🧨📚

ᥫ᭡ Songbird 🧨📚🖋️

ᥫ᭡ The Hunter and the Hunted {5.3K} 🎟️ 🧨

ᥫ᭡ Silly Little Titles {3.0K} 🎟️

ᥫ᭡ Fireworks {3.4K} 🎟️

ᥫ᭡ The Luck Child 📚🖋️

Dracule Mihawk 🟡👄🟡

ᥫ᭡ Little Game 📚🖋️

Monkey D. Luffy 🍖

ᥫ᭡ Face Your Fears {1.4K} 🎟️

Nami 🍊

ᥫ᭡ Truth or Dare? {2.6K} 🎟️

Portgas D. Ace 🔥🤠

ᥫ᭡ Your Name {520+} 🏷️

Roronoa Zoro 🗡️🥦 ⚔️

ᥫ᭡ Confidence {6.9K} 🧨 🎟️

ᥫ᭡ Demons and Claws {3.1K total}📚

ᥫ᭡ Are You Mad? {850+} 🏷️

Sanji 🧑‍🍳

ᥫ᭡ Through Shadow: 📚🖋️

ᥫ᭡ Confidence {4.0K} 🧨 🎟️

ᥫ᭡ Just For One Dance {1.1K} 🎟️

Multiple 💕

ᥫ᭡ 'Tis the Season {1.5K total} - {Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji x gn!reader} 👒

ᥫ᭡ Will You Be Mine? {4.6K total} - {Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin x gn!reader} 👒

Other Things 🌸

ᥫ᭡ Book Club: 📚 Part 1 | Part 2

ᥫ᭡ Coming Soon to a Theater Near You (My WIPS/ideas)

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thebunnednun · 7 months ago

Text

New profile pic!! Oh and updates 4/14/2024 (Master list too)

Finally, something that looks like me!

Oh, btw the names Angellica or Angie for short. I don't mind being called BUNNEDNUN either babes.

My wifey: @elarakive

My sister friend: @thealtofvalleyxdoodles My girl: @orange-milky

WE ASLO HAVE A COMMUNITY LINK NOW!!:

Now let's get down to business,

An updated schedule will be as follows:

Mundane Monday: The beginning of the week is always dreadful so let's make it fun with some crack fics. Memes, Memes, MEMES galore!

Tearful Tuesdays: Angst posts will be the main thing on here. I'm thinking of some hurt and comfort fics. I'm already working on a Buggy fic for this. I'm not opposed to happy endings but in general, think of an onion cutting itself for these. They don't all have to be romantic and I'm creating something for Trafalgar Law here.

Wonderful Wednesdays: I will update two of the current fan series on this day maybe three if I have the time. So far the list includes:

*Enchanted meeting (Buggy The Clown x Straw-hat reader)

*Shadows of the Blade (Dracule Mihawk x Assassin reader)

*Capturing hearts (Iñaki Godoy x Photographer reader)

*Please Don't Hate Me! (Juan Ruiz x Imperfect reader

*Whispers of the heart (Dracule Mihawk x Maid (Pirate Queen) reader)

*Love Sick (Buggy the Clown x Straw-hat reader)

*Bound by Justice (Sabo x Marine! Reader)

*Carnival Confessions (Portgas D. Ace x Straw-Hat! Reader)

*If you only knew how much I love you (Sabo x Straw-hat! Reader x Ace)

*Make you mine!~ (Trafalgar D. Law x Cheeky~ Crewmate! Reader)

*Throw Me Overboard! (Buggy the Clown x Fm! Reader)

*Gone Fishing! (Sabo x Sea creature Straw-Hat! Reader)

*Good neighbors (Farmer! Bakugou Katsuki x Gardener! Reader)

*Dancing Under the Stars (Red-Haired Shanks X Bar/ DanceClub Owner! Reader)

*In the Arms of a Stranger (Charlotte Katakuri x Bride! Reader)

*Unexpected Dinner Guests! (Koby x Straw-Hat! Reader)

*Tempted to touch! One piece Men x Fm! Reader (Multi fic)

*Shadows in the Night! (Trafalgar D. Water Law x Ethereal spirit! Reader)

*Sweet dreams!~ (Trafalgar D. Law x Hot Doctor Wife! Reader (Modern Au))

*Golden afternoon (Monkey D. Luffy x Crew mate! Reader) *LOYALTY (Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader)

*You're my Coffee (Shouta Aizawa x Pro Hero/Teacher! Reader)

*Overworked (Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! gf! Reader)

*Build a Boyfriend (Mirio Togata x Pastel Goth! Reader)

*The One That Got Away (Katsuki Bakugou x Girlfriend! Reader)

Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Ace, Law, Robin, Boa, Chopper, and Zoro will be loading soon. I have many, many, MANY, ideas but no time right now.

Thoughtful Thursdays: Just some random conversations and ideas thrown out there. I'll try to host polls so you guys can vote on what you want next. Basically a rest day for me though because there's just no way I could write everything in one shot. (/@ ~@)/~* I've tried and it ends with me updating around 3AM or sum.

Follower Fridays: Requests from followers are posted. If you have a story request or anything you want to ask go ahead and do so on this day. Just make sure you send them in early so I can get to it in time. If you send something the day of I might be able to make it happen.

Sexy Saturdays: Send me your best Saturday night requests: ie dancing, funny adventures, or crazy antis with the one-piece crew or another fandom. I'm very familiar with Naruto and MHA (and any other anime honestly I doubt there's anything you could request that I don't know.)

It's all about having fun and having those Saturday night vibes babe!~

Sweet Sundays: Romantic One-shot posts! Any character of age and as long as it's not a child. I would be open to doing a reader insert where they are a parent or parental figure though. I find them to be very endearing.

As always your requests are welcomed and comments are very much appreciated. Sorry again for being gone for so long. I want to pick up my serious especially and make the chapters juicy again.

I also have a spring tee shop for merch related to all the stories!!

Every little bit helps me to pay for my tuition! <33

Thank you guys again for your patience and understanding.<<333

Don't forget to check out my a03 account of the same name!!

My new goals are to keep up with the schedule and get 50 followers by the end of the month! I wanna keep growing our family. :3

Most of all, remember that you are safe here and loved.

Until next time my loves!~

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months ago

Text

With a kiss we will paint a flawless view (part 1)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. This is part one of two. NSFW!!

This fic is dedicated to @madbadpadawan.

This fic is part of the Beast in Black series, and the sequel of Come close and whisper my true name.

*****

“Something is troubling you.” your lover murmurs as he turns to kiss your naked shoulder; you smile, forcing yourself to hide the stab of pain those words have evoked in your heart, an unpleasant interruption in such a pleasant afternoon.

“I’m fine, Mihawk.”

“That was not a question, and you are not.”

Silence returns between the two of you, barely stirred by the gentle murmuring of the waves. What remains of your picnic lays on the blanket in front of you; Mihawk sits by your side, his left hand resting on the sand behind him, his lovely yellow eyes only apparently focused on the sun setting on the horizon. He doesn’t insist to know more, he doesn’t point out that this morning he has seen you stare out of the window for almost an hour, silent and unmoving, lost in who knows what sad reflection, nor does he mention the vague, impalpable but persistent melancholy he has perceived around you for the last month at least. He remains silent, content to sip the content of his glass (his favourite red wine, that you have bought and brought especially for this occasion) as the breeze plays with his dark hair.

It’s not like he doesn’t care; nothing could be further from the truth. You’ve been together for years, and while Mihawk is not the most effusive of men, you know well how much you mean to him, how much he cares about your physical and mental well-being, and that he wants a future with you. Whatever problem or worry you may be dealing with, you know your partner will listen to you, respect it, and do his best to help you overcome it, just like you would do for him; on the other hand he respects your privacy and desire for independence, and the last thing he wants is to treat you as if you were a child who needed an adult to protect and decide for her.

I don’t demand to know what you’re going through, but if you want to tell me, I’m here; this is what he’s telling you, without the need to utter a single word, and you love him for it; this is not an issue he, or anyone for that matter, can help you with, and lingering on it means wasting the time you are spending with your lover, but no matter how stupid and pointless it is, you can’t stop thinking about it…

“I have entered menopause.” you confess in the end, actually feeling as if you were sharing a crime you had committed rather than a natural, albeit untimely, development all women go through sooner or later. Mihawk, who clearly wasn’t expecting something like that (and how could he?) turns to look at you.

“You’re too young for that, surely?”

“Not necessarily; my mother was only two years older than me when it happened to her, and my grandmother had it early as well. I haven’t had my period for at least two months and I did think the last one I had was unusually light and short, so…”

Silence falls again; a minute later Mihawk’s glass has been placed back on the tray and his arm has circled your waist, holding you close to his body.

“What did your doctor say?” he asks softly; his gaze is now turned in your direction but now you are the one avoiding him, despite the love and intimacy you share too ashamed and embarrassed to face his reaction.

“I haven’t told him. I’ll mention it on my next routine visit in two months, but there’s no need really, I’ve just been feeling a little tired, but thank all the Gods the women of my family don’t usually experience hot flashes…”

“(name).”

You rest your cheek against his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

“You know I could never consider you stupid; and being a man I am completely unqualified to judge what you’re feeling, even if I wanted to.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It is stupid, because I was almost sure it would happen soon and my period has been nothing but a nuisance for years, but…”

“But?”

“I hate it.” you admit as you finally turn to look at him “I hate myself, and I hate my body, as if it had betrayed me. It doesn’t make sense, because I already knew I couldn’t have children and I know I’m still young, but… I feel old and weak and… and useless. I feel empty.”

You you hate crying, especially when there is someone there to witness your tears, and as a matter of fact you’re not crying now, but you still hide your face against Mihawk’s chest as he embraces you, holding your body (your pathetic, inadequate, withered body) as if you were something precious and delicate he wanted to protect.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs; you’re close enough you can perceive his scent, slightly sour and deliciously masculine, but even that can’t make you feel better in the state you’re in “I hate seeing you in pain. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Don’t; I’m just emotional, I should get a grip instead of wasting our time together whining.”

“The time we spend together is never wasted; and since your body is changing it’s perfectly normal if your mind reacts to it.”

He holds you close, peppering kisses on your hair and brow as he murmurs your name, and in the end, almost reflexively, you feel your body abandon itself in your lover’s embrace, tension leaving your muscles and bones even though grief lingers.

“Do you love me, Mihawk?” you ask in the end, lifting your gaze to meet his; all of a sudden you feel unworthy of his love, well aware that what you share could never change simply because you won’t be bleeding four days every twenty-eight anymore, but the most fragile part of you feels he would deserve better - a younger, healthier woman, capable of giving him the child you both wanted.

“I do.” Mihawk murmurs; he presses his forehead against yours, holding you as if he never wants to let you go “I always have, and always will, until my last breath. I promise.”

You remain locked in an embrace as you both observe the sun setting beyond the horizon; your lover holds you close as you listen to his quiet, steady heartbeat. Neither feels the need to talk, or to move; to worry, to feel sad, is completely impossible when the two of you are together.

A couple hours later Mihawk receives a call from the Marines HQ - an interruption during your time together your lover appreciates as much as an invasion of locusts. Alone in the kitchen as you wash the dishes and glasses you used for your picnic, you distantly hear your lover talk, and then argue, and finally almost shout, over the Den Den Mushi; you wait until he has ended the call, and then you join your lover in his bedroom, carrying two cups of his favourite tea.

“Bad news?” you ask as you offer him a cup that your lover, now sitting on the bed, accepts with a nod of thanks, his expression still sombre.

“I’m afraid so; the Marines need me, and the other Warlords, for a mission in the Shima Peninsula.”

“That’s pretty far away.”

“I’m aware; there is a war going on in the area, that the Marines unsurprisingly can’t put an end to it by themselves.” Mihawk explains; he seems pensive, even worried, which surprises you, since your lover, almost physically unable to feel fear, is usually dismissive of or even bored by the missions the Marines entrust to him “I read about it in the paper, it’s quite a complicated situation. I might have to remain there for weeks, even months.”

Ah; so that is what he was worried about. “Well.” you murmur, careful not to spill your tea as you go sit on his lap “I don’t need to tell you I will miss you…”

“And I you. (name)... I’ll probably be asked not to use a Den Den Mushi while I remain in the area, for security reasons; I might not even be able to write to you.”

“... oh.”

It’s worse than you expected. While you and your lover are both adult, independent people, each with important duties that occupy your time and who don’t even live together, you have always kept regularly in contact, both by letter and Den Den Mushi, and are used to meet each other regularly, either on your island, on Kuraigana or in some other place you decided to visit together. To remain apart, to be unable to call and write to your lover and to hear from him, for weeks and even months, sounds honestly unbearable; but refusing the call of the World Government will bring nothing but troubles for Mihawk, you reflect as you sip your tea, especially if this task in Shima is especially important.

“You need to go.” you murmur in the end, resting your back against his chest “I know you don’t like being ordered around by the World Government, but if you refuse there might be… repercussions.”

Mihawk sneers. “You think I’m afraid of them?”

“Of course you’re not, but it can’t be a bad thing to keep the Marines happy; at the very least, if you help them with this task they’ll leave you alone for a while afterwards… and you can come visit me for a few days.”

You bat your eyelashes at your lover, who looks at you, more amused than he lets on. “On second thought, I might decide to remain on Shima for a while after my mission is over.”

“Oh, you are horrible…”

Mihawk grins; you see him take a longer sip of his tea before placing the cup on his bedside table. “I’ll have to make sure no one else sees me shift.” he considers, which immediately turns you serious. Only six months have passed since you shared your gift with your lover, and while he has already learned to control it seamlessly, turning in a werewolf on command and avoiding doing it when he mustn’t, like all of you he can’t help shifting on full moon nights - an easy situation to manage when one lives on an otherwise deserted island, but that might represent a problem if he’ll be surrounded by Marine soldiers and officers, especially considering that while werewolves are mostly considered the stuff of legend, the World Government never formally abrogated an ancient law that ordered them to be killed on sight.

“I have put you in danger.” you murmur, immediately alarmed, which your lover resolutely denies shaking his head.

“You haven’t; I knew the risks when I asked you to turn me.” he points out “It’s only one night every twenty-eight; I’ll find a way to shift without anyone seeing me.”

“I hope so. Bring the draught I prepared for you, will you? You have learnt to control the shifting faster than any adult I know, but you never know when you might need it.”

“I promise.”

“Good. You need to go soon, don’t you?”

The barest trace of guilt visible in your lover’s eyes is answer enough. “I’m expected at the Marines HQ tomorrow at sundown at the latest; which means I’ll have to depart in the morning.” Mihawk points out softly “I’m sorry, (name); I know it wasn’t easy for you to carve out a few days for us.”

It wasn’t, and it’s so frustrating it makes you want to scream - not against Mihawk, of course, and not against the Marines either; you felt better, lighter, after sharing the matter of your menopause with your lover and being comforted and reassured of his love for you, and now fate conspires against you both, separating you from Mihawk when you need him the most, after a single day spent together.

Sometimes you wonder if your lover will ever decide to come live with you on your island; no matter how content and satisfied you both are with your current situation, this would allow you to spend as much time together as you want, or at least, considering your duties towards your people and his as a pirate and a member of the Seven Warlords, you wouldn’t have to plan any single meeting in advance and then sail for almost a whole day, since you’d be sleeping in the same bed and dining at the same table. It would make things much easier, and you know your lover misses you as much as you miss him when you’re apart. On the other hand, you can’t move with him, since you’ll one day be expected to become the ruler of your island after your mother, so it would be hypocritical of you to ask him to pack his things. You have talked about it several times, and you don’t want to rush Mihawk into something he doesn’t feel ready for; you know he loves you, and that wherever he goes, no matter how far away he’ll be, he’ll always return to you. That is enough; it has to be.

“I’ll miss you.” Mihawk murmurs, exactly as you considered the same sentiment in your heart. You smile, and

“Well, I hope so.” you murmur; a moment later your tea, by now gone cold in the still half-full cup, is placed on the bedside table next to his, and you’ve turned in your lover’s embrace, straddling his thighs with your arms now resting on his shoulders. Mihawk grins despite himself, his hands rising from your waist to gently, possessively cup your breast. Recently it feels oddly tender, and heavy, you reflect vaguely; since you are obviously no longer a growing girl, it’s probably a side effect of the menopause.

For once in the last three months, you’re able to quickly banish the unpleasant thought from your mind, as you look at Mihawk under your eyelashes, innocently resting your hand very high on his thigh as if to stabilise yourself “Maybe I should go, let you rest tonight so that you’ll be at full strength when you’ll have to sail tomorrow…”

“You’re fooling no one, (name).”

“I really don’t know what you mean. Let me go, I’ll sleep in one of the empty bedrooms…”

Your mouth meets his in a soft peck, seemingly chaste if not for the quick dart of your tongue against his bottom lip, before you start to stand from his lap; Mihawk growls, and his arms cage you against his chest as he turns on the bed, pushing you under him.

“Seriously, darling, I was worried for your health and this is how you repay me?”

“Oh, I’m gonna repay you alright…”

Your lover grins as he looks at you, still caged between his legs, and at the enticing view of your chest rising and falling in rhythm with your breathing; a moment later he has lifted your skirt, exposing your body from your waist up. He slips his hand under your underskirt, his fingers brushing over your flesh, and for a moment it feels different - softer, somehow, and more prominent, as if you had gained weight, even though not to the point one could notice just looking at you. Mihawk vaguely wonders if there’s a specific reason; you’ve always been a lover of good food but not someone who overeats, and it should be easy for you to keep in shape, given your active lifestyle and the time you spend regularly in your fortress’ small gymnasium. Perhaps the recent development, and the grief and shame it filled your heart with, led you to seek comfort in eating…

“Is something wrong?” you ask, unaware of your lover’s thoughts, and he hurries to shake his head; one doesn’t need to be an expert on women to know that telling one’s partner she has gotten fat would hardly please her, especially while her body is already a source of shame and grief for her, and he doesn’t want you to think he finds you less desirable now that you’ve gained a few pounds.

Because he doesn’t. At all.

“Nothing. I was just reflecting on how… appetising you look.”

You smile, unashamedly flattered. “I’m not a food you can eat, Mihawk.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to devour you.”

“Hmm, you surely talk a good game…”

Your kisses chase each other as you take care of your clothes; you make quick work of Mihawk’s shirt and pants, while he spends a few minutes unsuccessfully struggling with the lacing of your dress before giving up with a frustrated sigh. “It’s worse than a chastity belt!”

“I’m sorry, my seamstress insisted it was more elegant than a zipper…”

“Clearly your seamstress wants you to wear this dress for the rest of your life.” Mihawk mutters; then, with a grin, he helps you lie on the bed and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder “Then I suppose I’ll have to fuck you while you’re still wearing it.”

A moment later your panties and underskirt are lying on the floor, and you sigh as your lover’s hard cock penetrates you; after so many years you’re like a lock and the key made to open it and he knows what you can handle without feeling too much pain, but he’s still gentle, still patient and attentive, as he fills you and then slowly starts to move. He hated seeing you suffer, especially because yours was not the sort of grief one could process rationally either by yourself or thanks to the support of your loved ones; he could swear and insist your menopause makes no difference for him, that you’re still beautiful and strong and clever, a desirable partner and a talented bounty hunter, and it wouldn’t necessarily help. He knows you have to deal with the changes of your body on your own, and that you can, and that you will; you don’t need to be protected, or reminded that your value as a person and as a woman has nothing to do with your menstrual cycle, if you are in pain, no matter how unfounded or inconsequential, and he would give his blood to make it go away…

How can he survive weeks, even months, without you? Without even hearing from you, and the reassurance you’re alright and still thinking about him? He’s not afraid you could look at other men, and he knows you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but he’s already regretting the mission he accepted taking part in. He misses you already; and he knows he’s going to regret every single day you don’t spend together.

He holds you in his arms as he changes position once more, fucking you against the matress as he stands on the side of the bed, your legs locked around his hips. He can feel you claw at his back, possessive and even hungry for him, and he loves it, pain and pleasure mixed in such an arousing paroxysm of desire; every inch of him, flesh and bone and blood, his body and his mind and his soul, are vibrating with you, so close he can no longer perceive where he ends and you begin. He never thought it was possible to feel like this, or at least that he would one day experience such a perfect astonishment; but for once in his life, Dracule Mihawk is happy to admit he was wrong.

You share a smile, soft and intimate, as he pounds against you, his pushes deeper and more forceful as he feels your warmth enveloping him. Just like this, darling, you murmur, gazing adoringly at him, and oh, you’re so big and strong, and it feels good, so good, to know he’s taking care of your needs, fucking you nice and well, better than any other man ever could.

Mihawk hears you pant his name, the warmth of your body as enticing now as it was on your first time. “I love you.” you murmur; he smiles, and kisses you once more.

“Promise you’ll wait for me.” he tells you “Promise me, (name).”

“I promise I will wait for you till the end of time.”

Mihawk has never been in the Shima peninsula before. A nice place, he has been told, a once popular holiday destination famous for the production of precious fabrics and the vast quantities of gold hidden in the depths of its mines; nevertheless, he only needs to take a look at Shima to know he’s going to hate it.

It’s not because the country has been ravaged by war for almost a decade now; while the chaos and destruction wreaked by the invading army he and the other Warlords have been sent to oppose don’t leave him completely indifferent, he has seen plenty of scenes like that in his life, plenty of death and grief and devastation, and is now able to put some distance between him and the slaughtering taking place all around.

What frustrates him, and makes him regret ever saying yes when Garp called to request his help, is that he is doing nothing, spending most of his time twiddling his thumbs as days and weeks and months go by without the conflict moving a single step closer to resolution.

The situation is delicate, the Marines commander at the head of the whole operation -Mihawk hasn’t bothered to learn his name- tells them; the country whose army has invaded Shima is not affiliated to the World Government, but the authorities still hope for a peaceful resolution, which means they cannot simply send their armies, or the Warlords, to cut down the enemy troops. The two contingents are on standby, their encampments separated by a quarter of a mile of no man’s land; emissaries and ambassadors meet regularly, they argue and threaten and beg, and occasionally either Mihawk or one of his peers is sent to wreak havoc through enemy lines, or to face the paladins the opposing generals have sent to convince them to retreat. Neither party is able, or even fully willing, to best the other; they prefer to wait, hoping to wear the other party down or for some internal development that forces the enemy to withdraw.

If Mihawk thought he had known boredom in the years since he had last faced an opponent worthy of fighting him, it is nothing compared to those four months of inertia; he keeps busy training, and reading whatever paper and book he can put his hands on, but the encampment is barely large enough for a brief walk to stretch his legs, and he’s not the sort of man capable of making friends easily, not even if the alternative is dying of accidie.

Lying on his bed in the tent he shares with three of his fellow Warlords, he stares at the ceiling wondering what (name) is doing at that moment, whether she is sitting in the fortress’ audience chamber next to her mother or is preparing for a stakeout, her faithful derringer already aimed at the back of the head of the unsuspecting victim. He knows in his heart that wherever she is, his partner is thinking about him, hoping to see him return soon, but that is not enough; he has never missed her so terribly, her presence and her smile and the sound of her voice and, why deny it?, the warmth of her soft body as she lays naked in his embrace. He thinks back to that time Shanks told him he could still perceive the presence of his missing arm, years after he had lost it; what he feels now is at least partially similar, the lack of a part of him (not a limb, but a person who has become too important and precious for him to feel whole without her) becoming more painful, and frustrating, with each passing day. They have never been apart for so long since they became lovers, but that’s not all: there’s another reason, something Mihawk couldn’t explain but that is too intense to deny or dismiss it: the sensation that his lover needs him, but not because she’s in danger, or saddened and in need of comfort. Something is happening to her, something important that concerns him as well, and he should be there to share it with her…

The most maddening thing is that he has no way to know for sure. Even though he is busy for, on average, maybe two hours per week, he has been forbidden to leave the peninsula, even for a few days only, in the event that a sudden emergency arises and the Marines need their strongest allies to fight their battles for them, which means he is virtually prisoner on Shima, kept idle but not allowed to make use that wasted time. Many are unhappy with that situation, especially the other Warlords, who protest they haven’t accepted the alliance with the Marines to be kept in the backlines, but even their complaints fall on deaf ears.

If only he were allowed to at least communicate with the outside, but Den Den Mushi have been rendered unusable on the whole peninsula, in order to block transmissions between the invading army and its king; even the Marines commander receives his orders via carrier bird. Mihawk has sent a letter to (name) every time he had the opportunity, but he’s uncertain they will reach their destination, and even less hopeful he’ll be able to receive a response. At least, (name) will learn he’s still alive from the papers, which will ease her worries; still, there is nothing he wouldn’t give to hear her voice, or at least to read a letter in her elegant handwriting, for the first time in so long…

As his lover expected, the full moon nights are the trickiest, and the most dangerous, given how hard it is to find the necessary privacy to shift in an encampment inhabited by hundreds of people who must remain in the dark regarding his secret. Mihawk shifts for the first time nineteen days after his arrival on Shima; he has no way of knowing, but on that very day (name) has requested a visit from the fortress’ doctor after a sudden, violent bout of nausea as she woke up. He’s already feeling the pull of the rising moon as he slips out of the tent and then of the encampment, almost running towards the flat stretch of countryside that separates it from the closest town; a wood would have been better, the presence of trees and preys to hunt a more appropriate place for the wolf to run and feel at home, but at least he doesn’t run the risk of stumbling on some unsuspecting Marine recruit who had stepped out to relieve himself. He leaves his clothes behind a boulder and stands, stretching his muscles as he feels the moon’s soft light bathing his skin. The wolf has already raised its head inside him, ready to take over, and Mihawk lets him, the by now familiar sensation of fur covering his back and his bones changing shape enveloping him. A few minutes, and the large black wolf has taken his place; he chases after a few terrified mice, more to stretch his legs than because he’s hungry, and then he lays in an uncultivated field, looking at the moon above and thinking about his mate, who must have shifted as well but who is far away, too far from his howling to reach her.

The stalemate has been dragging for four months when one day Mihawk, and by coincidence the other Warlords as well, suddenly decides he has wasted enough time as it is. After a brief discussion, they march out of the encampment, deaf to the Marines asking and then ordering (as if!) them to stop, cross the unclaimed strip of desert separating them from the enemy, and swoop down on the invading army. To their credit, the invading troops are quick to react, their soldiers immediately falling in formation to oppose the small but deadly band of pirates. Mihawk has warned his fellow Warlords not to stand in his way, but beyond that he doesn’t care what they do, like he is completely indifferent to the opponents he finds on his path; he wields Yoru as he makes his way through the enemy lines, destroying anyone who is unfortunate enough to face him, nameless men and women who fall around him like sheaves of wheat cut by a scythe. A few swordsmen try to oppose him, and whether they’re driven by patriotism or thirst for glory, none of them is able to land a single blow on him; he’s no longer a wolf, but his ferocity, his ruthlessness and thirst for blood are characteristics any predator would approve of.

The unsanctioned assault is as quick as it is deadly; dawn has barely raised when the

Marines’ commander is called out of his tent, and finds himself face to face with the severed heads of the enemy’s generals thrown at his feet, their respective next in lines bound and gagged behind them, ready to concede defeat and beg for a peace accord, in order to avoid another bloodshed.

The commander is highly disgruntled, since the Warlords acted of their own accord, without seeking permission and defying every order they had been given, but those seven did in less than two hours what the Marines couldn’t in six months. He has no choice but to accept the enemy’s surrender, begin the peace negotiations, and write to the Fleet Admiral to inform him of the latest developments.

The Warlords depart, mostly confident the Marines can take it from here and there is no longer need of their services, once again without asking for permission. Mihawk has not been at home in four months, and his last bath dates back to then; part of him is unhappy he’s going to present himself to his lover in that state, but he knows that she would never forgive him if he lingered for such an inconsequential reason, even for just an hour more.

He wastes no time with good-byes; he retrieves his bag from the tent and reaches his ship at the harbour, where a favourable wind is blowing. Mihawk is soon leaving the Shima peninsula behind him, without looking back and hoping he will never have to set foot on that blasted place again.

“My lady?”

“...”

“Please wake up, my lady…”

“Hmm… no…”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady, but you really need to wake up…”

“For the Gods’ sake! Am I not allowed even a moment of rest?” you exclaim as you finally open your eyes; it’s not like you to react so impatiently, even and especially if the person talking to you is one of the servants, but the nights you have slept soundly in the last four months have been far and between, and naps like the one you had been taking on the sofa in your study (a new piece of furniture, that you had moved there especially for occasions like this) have literally saved you from going insane, and being forced to wake up feels like torture “I just wanted to sleep a little…”

“Forgive us my lady, but…” the two men in livery in front of you share a glance, suddenly unsure they’ve done the right thing deciding to disturb your sleep “Lord Mihawk is back.”

For a moment you fear you’re still dreaming. “... what?” you ask as you struggle to move into a seated position, your movements made clumsier by the added weight on your belly “Are you sure?”

“We’ve been informed his ship has docked at the harbour; the portmaster offered to call the fortress to have a carriage sent for him, but he preferred to borrow a horse to save time. He should be here in a few minutes. What would you have us do?”

“I…”

You bite your lip as you stand, your hand immediately rising to hold your belly, a habit you have gotten into ever since you learnt of your pregnancy, as if fearing even the most careful movement could put your baby in danger, and the presence of your arm were enough to shield them. It’s illogical, you know it well; but given the upheaval your life has experienced in the last four months, you might be forgiven if at certain moments rationality escapes you…

Your pregnancy. Your baby. Three months have passed since the doctors confirmed what you had already started suspecting but didn’t dare believe, and you still struggle to convince yourself that it’s true. You’re pregnant, and you’re gonna have a baby… your lover’s baby, a son or a daughter, who you have conceived together during one of your many nights -and mornings, and afternoons…- together, and who grows in your belly, becoming heavier by the day. A normal, perfectly natural development, that millions of women all over the world experience every year, but that you never expected might concern you, not after what happened on that terrible night so many years ago, when you lost both your father and your child. You had been assured getting pregnant again would be impossible, and in fact it never happened, nor when you still slept around hoping to give an heir to your feud, nor in the following years, despite the -err- very passionate relationship you share with your lover.

And you thought you had entered menopause, and were sad because of it! How foolish you have been, especially considering this is not your first pregnancy, but how could you imagine it, so many years after you had ordered yourself to stop trying, to stop hoping, and to resign yourself to never becoming a mother?

You have been visited by the most capable and experienced doctors of the kingdom, and none of them has been able to explain it. It’s nothing short of a miracle, my lady, one of them has commented as he washed his hands after examining you, and you thought that maybe you didn’t need to know how, but only to be reassured that it was true, that it had happened, and it had happened to you.

And now this. Mihawk is back, which you did expect, just not yet; you have read about the end of the conflict on the Shima peninsula in yesterday’s paper, but while the pictures showing your lover safe and sound, and victorious, made you heave a sigh of relief, you expected him to be busy for a while longer before he could come back. But years after you became lovers Mihawk is still able to surprise you… just like you’re gonna undoubtedly surprise him, when your lover sees the state you are in.

The servants are still looking at you, patiently waiting for your orders. You sigh, rubbing your eyes as if that were enough to clear your mind. “Forgive me, that was discourteous of me.” you apologise “Please take care of lord Mihawk’s needs when he arrives; I’ll be waiting for him here.”

“Very well, my lady.”

They bow out; now alone, suddenly nervous as if you had not been as close as it’s humanly possible for two people to be for years, and even though you have every reason to think he’ll be happy to hear about the baby, you consider the possibility of changing your dress, or to move to the adjoining bathroom to check your hair and make up, before realising nothing of it is necessary - not from you, not with him. With nothing else to do apart from waiting, you sigh and sit back once more, both of your hands resting on your belly as you stare at the room’s door and wait to see it open.

Mihawk’s heart is pounding as he climbs the steps that lead to (name)’s apartment, alone, no longer needing to be accompanied as he walks through the fortress he by now knows as well as his residence on Kuraigana. As he reaches the floor he stops, feeling suddenly… Insecure? Shy? Anxious?

It is odd, first of all because those terms have been banned from his vocabulary ever since he was a teenager, and equally important, because this is (name), his (name); Mihawk would bet his life she’s going to welcome him with open arms -and legs, hopefully; after four months with only his right hand for company, he can’t wait to bury himself in his lover’s tight and warm pussy and show her how much he has missed her- happy and relieved to see him safe and sound. After all his lover knew he would be gone for a long time and have difficulties keeping in contact, and they have always supported each other’s endeavours as a pirate and a bounty hunter respectively; even in the event she didn’t receive his letters, she has no reason to complain because of his long absence and the fact he didn’t call.

So no, the welcome that awaits him is not the reason for his current anxiety; what is, then? The lady Veressa, who he met briefly as he arrived at the fortress, assured him (name) is alright, so he has no reason to worry in that regard; on the other hand, the older woman seemed… what? Not exactly worried, or scared, but somehow anxious, and she has urged him to go to her daughter immediately, as if there was something important he had to see, or to discuss about with (name).

What the hell is happening? Mihawk keeps asking himself as he stares at the door of his lover’s apartment, the pounding of his heart almost deafening; part of him wishes he could take a bath, and change his clothes, before presenting himself to (name) for the first time in four months, but Mihawk considers that thought only for a moment before dismissing it. Right now all he needs is to make sure she’s fine, and to kiss her; and then perhaps they can take a bath together.

He knocks. “(name), it’s Mihawk.” he announces as he opens the door without waiting for an answer; he steps into the room and his gaze immediately falls on the woman sitting on a sofa (a new piece of furniture, he vaguely reflects, strangely out of place in her study) without a book to read or her derringer to clean, simply waiting - for him.

She smiles at him, radiant and more beautiful than ever, and Mihawk thinks he would have endured any hardship, and stayed away for years rather than months, if it meant being welcomed back like that. “My love.” he murmurs, his heart overflowing.

“You’re back.” (name) whispers, the tone of a woman who dares not believe her eyes; she stands - or at least she tries, oddly awkward and cautious as she grabs the sofa’s armrest to heave herself up, an arm wrapped around her middle. Mihawk is immediately concerned; is her lover sick after all? Why does she move like that? And what is she wearing…? “You’re here; I wasn’t expecting you yet, I thought you’d have to stay longer on Shima…”

“I came as soon as I could; I wasted enough time in that blasted place already.” he explains quickly as he reaches her; his hands find hers, and a kiss is pressed to her knuckles “My darling, are you alright? You seem..”

“I’m fine, Mihawk; really. But…”

She bites her lip, looking expectantly at him as if waiting for a response to a question Mihawk has not perceived; reassured but still confused, he follows her gaze down her body, to the soft protrusion of her belly, and one does not need to be a midwife to comprehend the state his lover is in, but like her, Mihawk has ordered himself to stop thinking about the possibility ever since they have discovered (name) is infertile, and even just considering what is evident and clear and real in front of his eyes requires more courage than for a moment he can gather.

He’s staring silently, his mouth half-open, until with a soft smile (name) takes his hand and gently places it on her belly, his fingers instinctively spreading to feel, gauge, and this is different from any body he has ever known, not the softness of fat nor the luscious curves of her femininity, it feels hard - almost like a shield, a shell, protecting the fragile treasure inside.

“I thought you had put on weight.” he murmurs, more to himself than to her.

“Excuse me?”

“The last time we have been together; as I caressed you I… I thought you had gained a few pounds, and I thought it odd, because you have never been a big eater…”

“Well, I hadn’t; it’s another sort of pleasure I have indulged in, rather than food.” she confesses, a tiny smile blossoming on his lips; Mihawk looks at her, for once in his life stunned beyond words, but (name) knows and loves him enough to perceive what he wants, what he needs, and smiles as she rests her hand on his over her belly.

“I’m pregnant.” she declares “Mihawk, you’re going to be a father.”

Mihawk looks on, fascinated, as the drops of water dripping from the fingers of his raised hand fall on (name) heavy belly, slipping down sideways or pooling around her belly-button. He’s sitting behind her in the large oval bath-tub, her back resting against his chest, (name)’s body snugly cradled between his legs; they have already washed and cleaned each other (“I’m sorry, I am covered with sweat.” “Don’t say it; you know I like you hot and bothered.”) and now they’re enjoying the first precious moments of intimacy after four months. Mihawk rubs his lover’s back gently, and feels her relax in his embrace; knowing that she had to deal with all of it by herself because he had left her alone fills him with guilt, even though (name) assured him she could never resent him given the circumstances, but Mihawk is determined to make up for it. He’s never leaving her (them) alone again; and he’s going to protect them with his life if need be.

The tub is filled to the brim, (name)’s belly emerging like an island in the middle of the sea; the thought brings a smile to his face.

“How is it possible?” he murmurs; he doesn’t really need to know, since the several doctors his lover has consulted have agreed her pregnancy is going well and she has every reason to be optimist, but he can’t help wondering “You told me it was impossible; and we have been having plenty of sex for years now, you never got pregnant.”

“I have no idea.” (name) admits; she’s writing her and Mihawk’s names with the tip of her finger on her belly “None of the doctors can explain it; maybe… maybe it’s precisely because we have done it so much that it happened? If you plant a seed a million times, sooner or later it will take root, no matter how barren the soil is.”

It’s as good an explanation as any, and they both reflect on it as they hold each other. (name) shivers when Mihawk’s strong hands cup her breast, the touch gentle and cautious but confident as he fondles the soft flesh and stimulates her erect nipples. Her chest has gotten bigger, and Mihawk can feel himself growing hard under the water; he has considered the possibility that her state has affected (name)’s libido, but he’s pretty sure there are no particular contraindications to a pregnant woman having sex, and he wants her at least to know how absolutely ravishing and irresistible he finds her…

(name)’s moans of pleasure are music to his ears. She rests her head against his shoulder, arching her back as if to lift her chest and offer her body to his ministrations. “Are you happy?” she asks when their eyes meet.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Well, I know it saddened you when you found out I couldn’t get pregnant, but it was years ago, and at the time we weren’t in a relationship; it’s also possible to start having second thoughts when something you had until now only discussed suddenly becomes real.”

Mihawk grins, determined to reassure the woman who has now turned her head to look at him, looking even more unsure than she sounds. He kisses her temple as he starts caressing her belly, a soothing, protective circular movement.

“I’ve never felt so happy in my life; truly, I… I didn’t think I could feel so happy.” Mihawk confesses in a whisper “I was yours already, and felt blessed to be your man, but now… I love you so much, (name); and I’ll always be here with you, and our baby. I promise I will never leave you.”

They share a kiss, sweet and deep and passionate; (name) turns cautiously in Mihawk’s arms until her belly is lightly pressed against his, and now they’re all locked in an embrace: him, his lover, and his baby. He’s going to be a father; Mihawk still can’t quite believe it. His life is going to change forever -technically it already has, even though Mihawk still can’t see how; for a man used to having full control of his life, to taking care of his needs alone and to not having to worry about anything, and anyone, else, it’s quite a big change, but the swordsman is all but disgruntled. He is elated, and can’t wait to meet his baby, who will be born…?

“When are you due?” he murmurs as he holds his lover in his arms, and it’s like that first question has opened the gates to all those that follow “Do you know whether it’s a boy or a girl? Have you started preparing for childbirth? Should we think about names?”

(name) laughs gently as her damp fingers play with his hair. “It’s still three months before the baby is born, so we have all the time to prepare for the big day. I asked the doctors not to tell me their gender because I didn’t feel I needed to know; do you?”

Mihawk thinks about it for a moment; in his heart he’s mostly indifferent to the whole matter, as long as the baby is healthy and the delivery is as quick and painless for (name) as it can be; he knows there is absolutely nothing he can do about either matter, and the knowledge does scare him a little. If something were to happen to her, to them, and he was powerless to help… “I… don’t, no; let us find out on the day they are born, shall we?”

“Good idea; which means we should have at least one name ready in either case.”

(name) rests her cheek against her lover’s shoulder, looking up at him in a way that makes the usually restrained swordsman’s head spin. “Should we have a girl… do you want to name her after your sister?”

“... you would be alright with it?”

“Of course. It’d be a way to have her back with you, in a way, and to remember everything she has done for you.”

Mihawk considers the offer for a minute, less enthusiastic than many men -and brothers- would be in his place. The truth is, while he will never forget his sister and will forever love and miss her, he’s not sure he wants a constant reminder of her around him, day and night. So many years after Yoru’s death, he still feels pain every time he thinks about her, the guilt for not having been there to protect her when she needed it and after she had sacrificed her happiness to raise and protect him so intense and overwhelming he sometimes can’t bear to look at himself in a mirror. He knows (name) means well, and he loves her for that, but what if history repeats itself? What if he ends up failing his daughter, and her mother, like he had failed her namesake? What if one of his enemies threatens baby Yoru, and once again he’s not there to protect her?

He has never believed in fate, nor doubted his strength; but when his child is concerned, Mihawk is not willing to risk it.

“I’ll think about it.” Mihawk murmurs in the end as he forces himself to smile, not wanting to ruin the happy moment he and his lover are sharing; thank all the Gods (name) doesn’t seem to perceive his distress, or more likely she does but wisely decides not to comment. She offers her mouth to Mihawk once more, and he happily kisses her.

“If we have a boy then we could give him your father’s name.” he suggests a moment later. The water is getting colder, which means they’ll have to leave the tub soon, and at the moment no one, no enemy, not the Marines, not even a God descended to earth, could ever tear him away from his lover, but he’d gladly remain here forever… he, (name) and their child, both in his arms, his to protect and love.

(name) smiles; it seems easy for her, even though she surely loved her father and mourned his death as much as he did with Yoru’s, and Mihawk envies her. “His name was Sargol; not a name I would inflict on an innocent baby. Father always said the other children made fun of him because of it.”

Mihawk is ready to bet their child will easily dispatch any bully who tries making fun of them. “Then let’s both think about it.” he suggests; he sees his lover shiver, and starts rubbing her arms to warm her “It’s like you said, we still have time. This name will be our first gift to our baby, we will have to choose it wisely.”

They leave the tub soon after, quickly drying themselves before walking naked to the adjacent bedroom, hand in hand; they reach the bed, Mihawk insisting on helping (name) to lie on her back before curling protectively next to her. “Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“I’m fine.” she reassures him with a smile “Tell me about Shima. Given what has been written in the paper it seems that if you and the other Warlords hadn’t intervened the conflict would have lasted for another decade.”

“Probably; it was all very stupid, the Marines had us come and then kept us on the sidelines, doing nothing.” Mihawk confirms; the longer his collaboration with the World Government lasts, the more he regrets having accepted their offer “Next time they can deal with their crisis on their own, I’m not wasting any more time.”

“Well, I’m proud of you; you helped stop a bloody war.”

The swordsman grins; he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t feel flattered by his lover’s admiration. “I just wanted to come back to you; I didn’t know about your pregnancy, but I felt I had to be here as soon as I could.” he explains; his fingers brush against her cheek “Gods, you are so gorgeous.”

“I’m fat, Mihawk. I have started waddling like a duck, and I’m not even sure my lady parts are still where they’re supposed to be, because my belly covers them.”

Mihawk’s grin grows wider. “Allow me to check.” he offers innocently, and a moment later his hand has slipped down his lover’s side towards her buttocks and then between her thighs. (name) gasps. “Mihawk! I’m six months pregnant!” she points out, almost appalled, but she’s smiling as well, and her legs have opened slightly, allowing him entrance.

“I’m well aware, my darling. And this would not be our first time either.” he considers; (name) had been pregnant already the last time they slept together, on Kuraigana, and the previous one as well, when they spent a week on an exclusive resort island, far from duties and concerns of any kind, free to focus on each other and on the way their bodies could make each other sing “And to think you thought you had entered menopause…”

“Well, i-it was a much more reasonable explanation than a pregnancy, that’s -hmmm- that’s for sure.”

“I’m aware, but it’s ironic, is it not?” Mihawk insists, as his middle finger disappears inside his lover’s warm cavern “You felt as if your womanhood had withered, and instead it was flourishing. You felt empty, but you were fuller than ever…”

Finally, (name) grins back at him; she arches her back, shamelessly opening her legs, and reaching towards his already hard cock. “I missed you, you know? I missed your presence and your voice and your kisses… but I think what I missed the most was this.”

“Oh? So this is what you want me for, to warm your bed and nothing more?”

“If it’s any consolation, my bed has never been warmer than since you have started sleeping in it…”

Mihawk says he’s glad to hear it. He moves carefully as he pulls his hand back, making (name) whimper in protest, and kneels between her legs, looking at the woman waiting eagerly in front of him - waiting for him, and for the pleasure and satisfaction he can give her. How beautiful she is, so soft and warm and feminine, her already gorgeous body made fuller and more curvaceous by her pregnancy; he never found expecting women attractive, but this is different, she is different, she is his and he has put a baby inside her, and while he can’t wait to meet their child, Mihawk wouldn’t complain if his lover’s pregnancy lasted for a while longer…

“Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not made of glass, Mihawk; and I want you so much.”

“I want you too, my beauty.” Mihawk murmurs, and a moment later he has lowered his face between her legs, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it; he feels (name)’s body spasm, her hands clawing at his shoulders as if the woman feared being swept away, and suddenly she’s screaming, loud enough for the whole fortress to hear, and Mihawk is kneeling on the bed, his arms tight around his lover’s thighs as he kisses her core, panting into it. They have both been waiting for this for four months, but Mihawk still feels he has much to make up for; because of this he waits to make her come twice before gasping for air, his well-trimmed beard wet with her fluid.

“You are… an animal.” (name) pants as they both catch their breath; she smiles as her lover lies by her side, as she uses her finger to tenderly clean his mouth “That was the filthiest thing… I fear I will never feel clean again in my life…”

“Meaning you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I absolutely loved it; now let me reward you, please?”

Mihawk smiles as he bends to kiss her. His hand is caressing her stomach, but his yellow eyes are fixed on hers, on her beautiful face; he can’t wait to meet their child, but (name) is much more than simply the mother of his baby, she is his partner, the woman he loves, his mate, and he wants her to never forget. “Would you prefer to stay on top?”

“I’ll squash you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not that heavy. You’ll tire yourself more, but perhaps you’ll be more comfortable without me pressing on you.”

The reasoning seems to convince her. A moment later they have switched positions, Mihawk lying on the bed as (name) sits on his lap, doing her best to weigh more on her calves than on him; he’s painfully, amazingly hard, the perfect beauty of the long, thick member as usual stealing her breath away. She doesn’t doubt her lover still finds her attractive, and more importantly that he’s happy he’s going to become a father, but she still feels clumsy, heavy and graceless as he takes him in her hands, stimulates him like she has learnt he likes, and slips it inside her. Mihawk’s hands are holding her hips, his pretty mouth moaning her name in an endless litany; the moment the tip of his cock presses against her core, (name) hears him sigh with a naked, almost visceral relief, as if his lover had been allowed a single breath of pure air after a lifetime spent underground. “Yes…” he hisses, grabbing more forcefully at her “Like this, darling… take me, take all of me, it’s all yours…”

She seems to take his word for it, because a moment later Mihawk is the one groaning as his lover’s warmth envelops him; (name) stretches over him, her forearms resting above his shoulders as she finds his mouth for a kiss. “Mate.” she purrs, and it takes Mihawk all of his ample self-restraint not to explode there and then; she lets his hands slid down (name)’s back until they are grabbing at her buttocks, and then she has started moving, fucking herself on his cock, and he has missed this so much, the perfect syntony between their bodies, enough that he has become addicted to it, enough that he knows he’ll never be able to live without it.

“I love you.” he moans, and (name) smiles as he kisses him once more.

“I know.” she answers primly, and Mihawk glares at her, incredulous, as the woman sits up, her lovely breasts bouncing with every push. For a moment, even frustrated as he is, Mihawk can’t help staring.

“(name)...!” he hisses, the threatening tone somewhat ruined by the fact that his eyes are pleading, begging for an even more powerful relief than the one he’s soon to find in (name)’s tight little pussy “Don’t play with me…!”

She giggles, and then decides to be merciful. “I love you too, Mihawk.” she murmurs gently as he bends once more to peck at his lips “And I always will. Now be good and let me fuck you.”

Mihawk obeys.

You’re having a bad day.

Which is surprising, considered that the last two months have been, if not exactly the easiest, the happiest of your life.

Your lover has slept by your side every night since his return; this is by far the longest period you have spent together, but unlike what happens with some couples, no matter how close, you rarely argue, and spend most of your time together in complete harmony. Yes, it’s almost like being on a honeymoon… if only you wouldn’t feel more and more alike to a pachyderm with every passing day, with your own body rebelling against you.

No matter how excited you are that you’re soon going to meet your baby, and reassured that according to the doctors everything is going well and by the constant presence of your lover and your mother, you must admit being pregnant is harder than you expected.

Your belly seems to grow bigger every day, which is of course a good sign; on the other hand, having been used to an active lifestyle since you were a little girl, it feels weird, and frustrating, having to spend most of the day simply resting, and feeling tired even after half a day spent lying on a sofa or at most sitting at your desk - behind which you no longer fit, incidentally. Your mother has reminded you more than once that the lack of energy and constant fatigue are a normal experience for women in your state, since your body is now working for two and your baby, no matter how small and inert, drains a good percentage of your energy, and you’d obviously spend the next year lying still on your bed if it meant making sure your child is safe and well looked after, but there are moments, and sometimes days, in which it’s hard to keep your frustration under control.

You’ve been strictly forbidden from using your gun, and from training in any way; you’ve tried explaining to your doctors that while using the fortress’ small gymnasium is obviously out of the question, a few hours spent with target practice would only do you good, and you’d be more careful than ever handling your weapons, well aware of the dangers for you and your baby. The answer has been unanimous: out of the question; until the birth of your child, you’re not even to even glance at your collection of rifles and guns, including your beloved derringer. You’re encouraged to take a walk in the gardens, preferably not alone and avoiding the warmest hours of the day, and to attend the various meetings and audiences you routinely share with your mothers, with your rump firmly placed on a comfortable chair, but any physical effort beyond that must be avoided at all cost, which is easier said than done.

You hate feeling idle, especially while everybody around you looks more active than ever. Your mother seems to have grown twenty years younger ever since she has known she is going to become a grandmother, and especially after Mihawk, who she has always been very fond of, has joined you at the fortress; everything you can no longer do, either because the doctors forbade it or you’re simply too tired, falls on her shoulders, and while she’s still in excellent health and more lively than many your age, being reassured you can remain in bed, resting in your lover’s arms or at most writing letters or reading while she takes care of everything, fills you with guilt. You’ve been raised surrounded by unconditional love and support, but now that you're an adult and she’s not as young as she used to be, you should be the one taking care of and supporting your mother, not the other way around!

Mihawk is also impeccable in his taking care of you. While you’ve told him more than once that you could never hold the months he wasted on Shima against him, since it was a very important mission and at the time neither of you knew you were pregnant, your lover is clearly determined to make up for the time you spent apart. He accompanies you at all your doctor’s appointments, is always ready to support you every time you have to exert yourself, and insists on keeping several blankets in your -now shared- room even though the nights on the island are quite warm at this time of year and, you’ve pointed out innocently one night, you’d receive more warmth if he kept you in his strong arms.

Not the type to fuss, not least because he knows how careful you have been since you’ve become aware of your pregnancy, he nevertheless remains by your side constantly, as if to protect you from any danger or threat you might stumble into. His hand is always resting on the small of your back as you walk, he makes sure you always have a chair, and a blanket, and a glass of water, wherever you go, and he has even started giving you foot massages - not very sexy, perhaps, but your poor lower extremities appreciate it very much. At night, he spends hours talking to your child, his cheek resting on your chest as he tells them how much he loves them already, how he can’t wait to meet them and hold them in his arms, and that whatever happens he’ll be always proud of them, and ready to defend them with his life. Then his gaze meets yours, and a softness you’re ready to bet no one else in the world has ever witnessed fills his yellow eyes. “How will I ever thank you enough for this splendid gift?” he murmurs before he moves to kiss you “I love you so much, my darling; you’ve made me happier than I remember ever being.”

He’s sweet, passionate, no matter how unattractive you feel in your state, and protective, he has always been, and you know he will keep all the promises he has made to you and your baby; because of this you do your best to be strong when you’re together, to keep your fears and griefs in the depth of your heart in order not to worry him.

You don’t tell him how hard the first stage of your pregnancy has been for you, when you felt so alone; you had your mother, yes, and so many other people ready to support and help you, but you missed your lover terribly, more acutely than you ever had since your relationship had started. It wasn’t like you felt the need to be protected; rather, you had the impression something around you was wrong, as if you had lost your way while walking on a path you had known your whole life. Why wasn’t he with you? That was his place, with you and the child he had put inside you and who grew with every passing day; you knew rationally it wasn’t his fault, that refusing the call of the Marines could bring trouble and he didn’t even know about your state when he had left. Resenting him for having abandoned you would be stupid, petty, and unfair, but in those first few weeks, as you were tormented by nightmares and you woke up screaming in the middle of the night, already convinced to find blood on your sheets as your baby died just like it had happened to his half-sibling years ago, it was hard not to feel yourself abandoned, alone with a child you felt unable to protect, while his father was away, free of worries. As Mihawk had warned you, contacting him via Den Den Mushi had proved impossible, and the letters you had tried sending him had been returned to you; you didn’t doubt he had also attempted to write, and thought about you constantly, but you spent so many nights crying, and feeling alone, small, fragile, certain that the miracle you had experienced would not take root, and your baby would die leaving you powerless, and empty, once more.

These fears have gradually subsided, since you have entered your second trimester (which meant, as the doctors explained, that you had left the period in which there was a higher risk of miscarriage) and especially since your lover has returned, but you still can’t leave them behind you completely. You still wake up in the middle of the night, protectively held in Mihawk’s embrace but unable to find comfort in it. You know that while older than average for a woman at her first pregnancy you’re healthy and strong and there is no reason to doubt both you and your child will be fine, but once again, your heart is instinctively scared while your mind is rationally optimist, and it’s easier to give in to fear than to hope.

The only moments you are completely at ease it’s on full moon nights; as you turn, the baby shifting with you in your womb, you feel an enormous weight disappear from your chest, leaving you free to breathe for the first time in twenty-eight days. While well aware of her state and excited she’ll soon meet her cub, wolf-you doesn’t know fear and anxiety; surrounded by her friends who play and howl, she lies on the grass, letting the moon’s soft light bathe her as she munches on a prey her mate or her mother have hunted for her, and listens to the tiny heartbeat matching hers, dreaming of when her pack will be complete.

Her pack…

There is one topic you haven’t had the courage to broach with Mihawk, namely where he is going to live once the baby is born. The current state of affairs (you on your island and him on Kuraigana, visiting each other regularly to spend a few days together) may have worked for the two of you until now, no matter how hard it still is to say good-bye, but the arrival of your child is destined to change everything. Given how attentive he is to your needs and excited for the birth of your baby, you are confident Mihawk will want the three of you to live together; there are pirates who leave their partners and children in some harbour town and visit once in a while -or depart never to return- but he is not that sort of man. The choice seems obvious: Mihawk knows you cannot leave your island, that you have duties here, he has developed a good relationship with your mother and has even spent two full moon nights with your pack. Despite his introverted nature and strong preference for his own company (and that of a few accurately selected people, like you or his friend Shanks) you know your lover would be happy living on your island permanently; he wouldn’t be forced to share your duties as the lady’s consort, and could continue his business as a pirate as he wants.

You haven’t discussed the matter in a while but you’re well aware you’ll need to do it soon, preferably before your baby is born; nevertheless, every time you have the chance to address the subject (as you and your lover take a night stroll in the gardens, or while you are in bed, his cheek resting on your chest as you play with his dark hair) your courage fails you.

Why does that happen, again and again? Even though your lover is a predominantly taciturn man, you’ve always been able to talk openly, both of troubles one of you was experiencing and about matters that could potentially create friction between the two of you - which fortunately never happened. Then why do you hesitate? You have never been as close as you are now, both physically given the two consecutive months he’s been sleeping in your bed, and emotionally, but something stops the words in your mouth every time you try to broach the subject. Do you feel guilty because you’re basically asking him to move in with you, having refused to do the same for him? Do you fear that he could refuse, too jealous of his privacy and independence despite the deep love for you and the new life you’re soon going to deliver?

The last thing you want is for your lover to sacrifice his happiness for you, but becoming the lady of your island is your destiny, what you’ve been prepared to do since you were born, and even though your mother is still in excellent health with many years in front of her sooner or later the moment will come for you to take her place, a moment that will also influence the lives of the people closest to you. You want your child to be your heir, which means they will have to be raised on the island, and Mihawk knows it, but…

You need to do it; and you will, you decide one day as you see your lover reaching you on the bed, his dark hair still damp after his bath, naked save for his sleeping pants. “Are you comfortable?” he asks in a murmur as he lies down next to you, smiling as he sees you snuggle against his side “Shall I fetch a blanket?”

“Since you’re here I have all the warmth I need.” you reassure him with an adoring smile; corny, perhaps, but that doesn’t make it less true. Tomorrow you’ll talk, you promise yourself as you share a few lazy kisses with your lover, the gentle caress of Mihawk’s hand on your by now huge stomach gently lulling you to sleep; you will make sure you’re not disturbed, discuss calmly about both the matter of his residence, and together you will find a solution. You always do. “Shall we sleep? I’m quite tired.”

“Of course. Good-night, my love.”

Mihawk lies on his side, his arm draped around you; he seems… pensive, somehow, as if he had something important on his mind, but not worried, which reassures you. Tomorrow, you think; tomorrow you’ll talk, but until then you’ll treasure the delicious sensation of his body next to yours.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Dracule Mihawk #Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Mihawk x reader #Steven John Ward #Bellona's stuff

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