#mihawk x reader fanfic

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Next chapter incoming

I didn't except it this soon, either.

It's still writing itself and dear GODS I hope this momentum continues.

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch.8 of who even fcking knows like maybe ten-ish...? First Chapter Link for newcomers, will update with other chapter links soon

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. You're his prisoner now, and you have no real hope left that you can see aside from his acceptance of the Warlord proposal.

We're venturing into NSFW territory in this chapter. So Warnings for that, and continued Yandere stuff.

Wordcount: 3588

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil, @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 , @byysandra , @lufemia , @gizamalblythe, @lufemia @schanwow

You guys are all amazing tysm!!!!!

The first time you had awoken in the castle on Kuraigana Island, you had jumped so badly you had very nearly reverted straight out of your devil fruit form—and that in itself would have marked the end of your mission before it had even truly begun, given you had fallen asleep perched on Mihawk’s shoulder.

You jolted awake just as violently this time, and the first thing your gaze fixed upon was his sharp yellow eyes. You did panic for a moment, attempting to shift back into the avian form you had grown so accustomed to over the past two months, before remembering exactly where you were—lying across the cold stone floor of the dungeons.

Exactly how you had come to be here—by making the mistake of sneaking about in the middle of the night to call Bogard and inform him that you had no choice but to shift to plan B and propose the offer of Warlord status to your target.

Your target, who was seated in a chair in your damp, dark dungeon cell, staring down at you with a speculative frown.

“Awake at last.”

You winced as you strained against the floor to pull yourself up into a sitting position, too groggy for a moment to register why you were having such a difficult time, until the seastone shackles around your ankles clinked and rattled with your movements. Right. He had made completely sure that you wouldn’t be capable of escaping.

“You chose a particularly inopportune moment to faint earlier,” he commented, crossing his arms. “We were discussing this Warlord offer your superiors are considering presenting me with.”

You only vaguely recalled bringing it up—it must have been in the moments just before you lost consciousness. It was clear he had left you alone at some point during your slumber. He now had his open trench coat draped around his shoulders, his sword leaning against the corner of the cell. He traced your line of sight over to it and gave a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry yourself, dear. I simply prefer having my blade close. Though I’m sure you know that. You know a great deal more about me than I do you, after all. But I’m sure,” he went on, standing from the chair. You pressed your back against the wall as he approached you slowly, the toes of his boots coming to stop mere inches from your bare feet as he looked down at you, “that will come to change in time.”

He held his hand down toward you. You stared at it for a moment, before slowly lifting your hand, your breath catching as he took it in his with an almost gentle grip, this thumb tracing across your knuckles for a moment.

“You don’t have a fighter’s hands,” he said, turning your hand over, his much larger, rougher fingers tracing across your smooth palm. “Have you trained in anything aside from subterfuge?”

“Basic combat,” you said. “I’m best with throwing weapons and small blades.”

“Ideal for your stature and talent in stealth operations,” he commented.

He gave a small, thoughtful hum—then wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you to your feet, grabbing you by your hip before you could stumble straight into him. He turned with you and moved a hand to your shoulder, pushing you down into the chair he had just vacated himself.

“And, purely out of curiosity, what of your knowledge in birds?” he asked, pacing around the side of the chair slowly. “I can’t imagine you learned any of that from your Marine comrades.”

You shook your head, swallowing as his shadow fell over you from behind, glancing over at his hand resting against the back of the chair. “M...my mom,” you said quietly, your stomach churning at the sudden thought that you would probably never see her again. “She’s an ornithologist. Specializing in parrots and corvids. She runs a rescue service for them. I learned everything from her.”

“And yet you chose to join the Marines?” he said, amused. “Perhaps your father’s influence?” You gave a short nod. “Of course. Could have stayed at home on the farm, safe and sound, and yet...here you are. But I suppose it did give you the experience necessary to utilize your devil fruit to its fullest effect. I can see why your superiors chose you for this task. Not many could have pulled it off as well as you did.”

You felt the chair creak behind you as he leaned down against it, sending a cold chill down your spine as he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear, to tilt his head and fix you with an amused smirk as your shoulders grew stiff as stone.

“That was a compliment, little bird,” he said lightly, tracing his index finger slowly down the curve of your neck. “What do we say when someone compliments us?”

“Th—thank you,” you forced out, swallowing. “S-sir.”

“Good girl,” he lilted softly, close to your ear.

You thought you might faint all over again when he briefly pressed his lips to your temple before straightening back out and lightly ruffling your hair. As gentle as his actions seemed, they were laced with a thinly veiled threat—a threat that if you did anything other than what was asked of you, what he expected of you, there would be swift and severe repercussions. He didn’t have to say it for you to know it to be true.

“Are you able to provide me with the full details of this whole Warlord proposal?” he asked, moving around to the other side of the chair. He stopped in front of you, crossing his arms. “Or will you need to contact your superiors?”

“They would know more than I would,” you said quietly—and that wasn’t a lie. You had been given the basic details, but he would need to speak with someone of much higher rank than you to garner any further information. “I—I can call them. They’d likely want to set a meeting if you’re interested—”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” he said. “I’m interested to hear more of what the World Government might consider a mutually beneficial arrangement between pirates and Marines. I haven’t said I’m interested in the offer itself yet. That being said…”

You shifted back in the chair when he knelt down in front of you, reaching into his pocket—but all he pulled out was a small ring of keys. You recognized the Marine insignia etched into the metal ring before he lifted your foot and turned one of the keys in the shackle wrapped around your ankle.

“I am interested to speak to your commanding officers,” he said, lowering your foot back down. He lifted the other, and paused with the key in the lock, his sharp eyes darting up to meet yours. “You will accompany me to the study in the tower below my bedchambers. Should you make any attempt to escape or use your devil fruit ability, I don’t think I have to tell you what will happen.”

You swallowed, nodding quickly in understanding. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Very good. I was fairly sure you’d understand.” You bit your lip as he slipped his hand slowly up the length of your calf, his palm coming to rest against the side of your thigh just above your knee, his eyes remaining on yours as he turned the key and pulled the shackles away from you. You flinched as he lightly squeezed his hand around your thigh, keeping his hand there as he stood and rested his other hand against the back of the chair, hovering over you. “You’ll stand slowly, and you’ll walk in front of me. I don’t think there’s any need for me to hold your hand like a child. You ought to know your way around fairly well by now.”

“Y...yes, sir,” you repeated weakly.

Hundreds of thoughts swam through your head as you lead the way from the ground floor of the old, expansive castle to the eastern tower—whether you would ever see or speak to your mother again, how Garp and Bogard would respond to the news that you were compromised, whether or not you would even live to see the light of the next morning, why Mihawk was being so gentle with you, why you felt a flutter deep in your stomach every time he touched you.

Why, for the entire duration of the walk up to the study, with him even stopping once to allow you to venture alone into a small bathroom to clean yourself up and tend to any other personal needs—why you didn’t once consider the possibility of a potential escape plan.

He expected you to comply—he wouldn’t expect you to shift into your devil fruit form at the nearest window and take flight off into the quickly darkening evening sky.

Yet the thought only crossed your mind once he sat in the armchair behind the desk in the study, the thought of why you hadn’t considered the possibility. Before you could consider it any further, he lifted his hand and motioned for you to come over, leaning forward to pull the den den mushi across the desk toward him.

“You’ll call your superiors,” he said, his gaze not once leaving you as you slowly crossed the room. You nodded, stopping in front of the desk and reaching for the device. “No.” He pulled it further out of your reach, motioning for you again. “Come here.”

You tensed at the sharpening of his tone, and moved around to the opposite side of the desk with a little more urgency, stopping a few feet away from him, your eyes flickering between his yellow irises and the snail.

Closer, when he motioned for you again, stopping at the side of the chair, staring down at your feet as you shifted your weight between them.

You glanced up when he lifted his head again, pointing down at the floor and making a small, tight circular motion. “Turn,” he instructed.

You obeyed immediately, turning around slowly, arms crossed tight across your churning stomach.

“Better. Now…”

Your eyes clenched shut when he wrapped his hand around your wrist, gasping in alarm when he pulled you down, down onto the chair with him, your back against his chest. His hand left your wrist to brush against your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear and your shoulder.

And they shot open again when you felt him lean forward behind you, his broad torso pressed against your back, watching him grab the receiver of the den den mushi.

“Make the call for me, pet,” he said, handing it to you before pulling his arm tight around your waist, holding you against him as he leaned back again. “And keep quiet unless I say otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You couldn’t speak in anything more than a strained whisper, your face flaring with heat, immediately reaching forward to dial the number at his command and holding the receiver between his ear and your own.

You shut your eyes again when you heard a familiar, gruff voice answer.

“Vice Admiral Garp. If you have this number you know what to do.”

“Vice Admiral Garp,” repeated Mihawk, sincerely surprised. “Garp the Fist. Hero of the Marines. My, my. I suppose I should be honored.” You drew in a sharp breath as his fingers curled lightly, possessively around your waist, as he turned his head and rest his forehead against your temple, his voice soft and warm against your ear. “I had no idea the adorable little pet you sent me was so important.”

You flinched at the sharp static that came through the other line for a moment, as if the old vice admiral had tightened his hand considerably around his own den den mushi.

“Dracule Mihawk,” he growled in response. “Where the hell is she?”

“Safe,” he responded. “Unharmed...relatively. Though I imagine she must be quite frightened, wondering what I plan to do with her.” You nearly whimpered when he reached across, curling a strand of your hair around his index finger. “Quite the gifted little spy. I might never have known what she truly was had I not overheard her conversation two nights ago.”

“Dammit, kid…” you heard Garp grumble under his breath. Then, louder, in a more commanding tone, “You’ve got two options, Hawk-Eye. You can let her go, or I can come get her myself.”

“With an entire armada of Navy vessels in tow, I presume?” he responded, sounding as if the idea bored him. “You’re not really in the position to be making threats, old man. The cadet is unharmed...for now. And really. You send me such a pretty little pet and expect me to sen her right back before I’ve even had any time to enjoy her company?”

You held your breath as his hand drifted down from your waist, his fingers brushing against the top of your thigh just below the hem of the over-sized shirt he had given you to wear.

“Call her your pet again, you sick son of a b—don’t—let go of that—”

“Mmm?” Mihawk hummed quietly, curiously at the sound of the brief scuffle at the other end of the call. You were fairly certain you knew what it meant, and...it was probably better that Garp didn’t handle this. Your suspicions were confirmed a moment later when another voice came through the call, far more curt but just as familiar to you.

“Read Admiral Bogard. My apologies for the vice admiral’s boorish behavior. He doesn’t handle negotiations well when it concerns one of our own. I presume this is a negotiation and you didn’t simply call for the sake of gloating?”

“Your presumption would be correct,” said Mihawk. “Though I admit, it was also to sate my own curisoty. I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of supposed men would send such an innocent, vulnerable young woman on what could easily have turned out to be a suicide mission.” He rested his chin against your shoulder, trailing his dingers slowly back up the length of your thigh, smirking as you pressed your legs together tightly and tiny goosebumps raised across the surface of your skin. “I guess I have my answer.”

“I take it you have no intention of returning her without hostile measures being taken,” said Bogard, ignoring the taunt from the pirate. “I will ask yhat you allow her to speak so I can ascertain for myself that she is, as you claim, unharmed.”

“Oh, but of course,” said Mihawk, his voice low and dripping with mockery, his mouth nearly brushing your ear. “She’s right here, after all. Go on, pet. Speak.”

“I’m not hurt,” you said quietly.

“You’re sure?” You gave a quiet affirmative hum in response to Bogard’s question—and then jumped in alarm when Mihawk jerked the receiver from your hand, only to push it into your oposite hand. You swallowed, keeping your eyes turned down to your lap, to his hand splayed across your stomach. “Am I correct in assuming he’s listening?”

“Y—yes, sir.”

It became immediately clear why he had moved the receiver to your opposite hand, to the opposite side of your head—you pulled in a small, sharp gasp as his mouth touched the shell of your ear.

“H-he can hear me,” you added quietly, clenching your eyes shut as his hand clenched around the thin material of his shirt that covered your stomach and half of your thighs, tugging it a few inches higher. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against the edge of your jaw.

“I wonder,” he murmured, “how long you can keep your composure, pretty bird.” He chuckled lightly at the shiver his voice sent through you—a shiver that, no matter how much you wanted it to be, wasn’t entirely in fear.

“Does he have any intention of harming you that you’re aware of?” asked Bogard. His tone was lighter now, but still kept its usual air of authority

“I—I don’t think so,” you said, fighting to keep your breath level as Mihawk trailed his lips lightly down the length of your neck, lifting his free hand to your jaw, urging you to lie your head back. You obeyed the silent command, your shoulders tensing as the back of your head fell back against his shoulder. “H—he-he wanted more details on the offer. The—the Warlord—”

“I’m sure he does,” said Bogard curtly. “And I’m more than willing to discuss it with him. Our immediate concern at the present is your safety. Are you able to tell us where you are?”

“I…”

“Go ahead, little cadet.” You swallowed at Mihawk’s low, amused murmur against your neck, his words affirming that he could still hear both ends of the conversation. “Tell Mommy and Daddy exactly where you are.” You bit back a whimper as he nipped lightly at your neck, his hand at your chin drifting down the column of your throat, stopping to circle a finger around the top button of your shirt.

“A study in one of the towers in the castle on Kuraigana Island,” you forced out quickly, tour words pressing together as he lifted you by your hip and shifted your position, pressing his knee between your thighs to push them further open.

“Alright. Good.” Bogard’s words sounded more distant to you with every passing second, your focus shifting to Mihawk’s hand slipping open the top button of your shirt. “You sound weak.”

“S-seastone,” you said quietly, fighting to keep the tremor out of your voice as the second button came loose, revealing the top of your plain white bra. You bit your lip, watching him push the shirt open enough to trace his fingers along the edge of the undergarment. “Seastone shackles. So I can’t use my devil fruit ability to escape.”

Even though he had removed the shackles before leading you up here, it was the first explanation that jumped to your mind to account for the low, trembling quality of your voice.

“Seastone. Of course,” Bogard said coolly. “Should have guessed. Wouldn’t have been difficult to salvage from one of the hundreds of our ships he’s destroyed…” He let out a sigh. “Do your best to stay safe. Do not attempt to escape on your own. Is that understood?”

“Mm—mm-hmm,” you hummed, almost whimpered, biting down on your bottom lip as Mihawk tugged the last few buttons of the shirt open, moving his hands to your shoulders to push the material down.

“Off,” he murmured against you jaw. “And you’ll hand the phone back to me.”

“H—he wants to—”

“Then put him back on,” said Bogard.

You quickly shifted the phone back to your other hand, and Mihawk plucked it away, holding it out at arm’s length as he briefly leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth as he commanded once more, “Off, pretty girl. Let me see you. I won’t ask again.” He pulled the receiver to his ear as you complied, trembling as you slowly shrugged the material away from your shoulders, pulling it free from your arms. “Bogard, was it?” you heard him say. “Oh, yes. I am very interested to hear more of how your people think any pirate might be inclined to consider becoming a government lapdog.”

He tugged you back against him again the moment you were free of the shirt, his fingertips tracing leisurely circles over the plane of your stomach.

Drifting higher and higher, playing against the edge of your ribs.

Slipping just beneath the lower edge of your bra, his lips curling into a smirk at the way you tensed against him, in some mix of anxiety and anticipation, growing less and less able to differentiate between the two.

Clenching your eyes shut and biting your tongue against a small whimper as he pushed his hand higher, cupping the swell of your breast in his palm, squeezing his fingers lightly around the pliable flesh.

You could hear his voice as the conversation dragged on, his tone as curt and professional as Bogard’s, but you could scarcely make out a single detail of his words with his rough hand brushing across your breasts, occasionally rolling around the sensitive points of your nipples, forced to use every ounce of your will to keep yourself silent—to pull your own hand up to cover your mouth and muffle a small cry when he lightly pinched one of the sensitive protrusions near the end of the conversation.

“Well, that’s all very intriguing,” he said with a light chuckle as he pulled you tighter against him. “I’ll have to take a bit of time to consider such a tempting proposal. I think...oh, forty-eight hours? Well, if that’s acceptable for you, then it’s more than acceptable for me.” You tensed as he shifted his hand beneath your bra, whimpering as he pinched your nipple a bit harder. “Ten o’clock, two days from now. Perfect. And be sure to inform your vice admiral that I’ll take very good care of our little cadet in the meantime. Oh, of course. No harm at all.”

He lowered his head, continuing in a murmur against your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“She might not even want to return to your command once I’m through with her.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

[To be loved is to be changed. And while being married to you has changed Mihawk, it's not entirely for the better. He's a possessive and protective lover to the marrow of his bones.]

(TW for unwanted sexual comments)

Mihawk knew the name 'Shantaro' quite well. Any time you told him a story from your adolescence that revolved around borderline illegal, unethical or simply reckless adventures, Shantaro was there. The little devil on your shoulder but as reliable as a true angel.

He, however, never expected you to run into Shantaro on the odd night when the two of you can go out. Comfortably basking in your presence, Mihawk is thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention.

Until.

You're suddenly rendered speechless as you notice something - someone - over his shoulder. A wide smile spreads across your face. Mihawk is unsure whether he should rejoice with how beautiful you look or seethe, knowing that another person dared to distract you from him.

"It's Shantaro!" you squeal excitedly. "I'm sorry, love, I'll be just a moment. I haven't seen her in ages!"

Mihawk doesn't even try to stop you as you make your way through the crowd at the lounge. His watchful gaze follows your steps as you approach a stringy woman in a silver dress. A hurricane of black curls sits on top of her head. Her piercing, grey eyes notice you, suddenly widening with both surprise and happiness. The two of you engulf each other in a bone-crushing hug, silently exchanging feelings of longing towards the closest friend from younger years.

The swordsman's night, however, is about to get even worse as he hears someone behind him whisper:

"She's a minx, that foxy wife of yours."

He turns around with his jaw and fists clenched. Mihawk's enraged gaze meets the face of an amused man who is casually sipping on his drink. There's a glint in the stranger's eyes that makes the swordsman's skin crawl - he wanted to get under Dracule's skin.

"Don't look so surprised," the stranger reprimands him. The man must have mistaken Mihawk's baffled expression at the bold words for genuine surprise that someone put two and two together. Truthfully, he couldn't care less whether people know that he's married. "Many pirates get hard fantasising about having their way with the Warlord's wife." Judging by the way the man licks his lips and hides a certain hunger behind his eyes, it's clear he's part of the aforementioned group. "But the Warlord himself? Unfortunately for him, she turns him soft," he drones the word as though it's a serious insult.

"Yes, she does," Mihawk answers slowly.

The events that followed happened exceptionally fast: Mihawk reached for the stranger's neck and slammed the man's head against the bar counter. Curiously, people happening to be in their vicinity carry on as though nothing bizarre is happening - they are smart enough not to get in Dracule Mihawk's way, especially when he is visibly upset.

Blood is gushing from the strange man's forehead, his eye already beginning to swell and change colour. The swordsman tilted his victim's head back just enough to lean down and growl. "Which is why I'm going to kill you much faster than you deserve for your offence."

Mihawk glances in your direction. You're still occupied, excitedly telling Shantaro about the years after you've last met her.

He'll be done before you notice him gone.

[thepretentiousrizzmaster]

Just imagine

Posted on 05. 11. 23

18+ content ahead

"Oh god." You moaned as his thick cock was in you. And that's what he needs to hear, without a second thought he started bullying his dick in you. Oh, he absolutely loved this. He always lost his mind whenever you begged him to ruin you. He was moving inside of you at an animalistic pace. The only thing in his mind was to reach his climax, and bring you to yours in the process. He himself was an utter mess, morning, whimpering and almost tearing up from the overstimulation. But he didn't want to stop. He never wanted to stop. If he could he would be inside you all the fucking time, but he had business to take care of. So whenever he was blessed to be inside you, he savoured every damn moment.

Your rolled eyes behind and your toes curled. That's it you were there once again thanks to this crazy bastard, who was obsessed with your pussy. You could feel him twitching in you. He was there so were you. His pace increased. He was too lost in the feeling of your slopping warmth around his cock. His moans and loud grunts outmatched your screams and the sound of your skin against each other. "Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck daddy. Too much I can't." " A little more darling, a bit…" And, as your inner walls clamp down onto him, your tears falling on your face as a strained moan leave your lips. Oh, how divine it feels when you finally cum together, after all those rough strokes, stimulating you so perfectly in ways that you could never imagine, building up to that perfect moment again and again, both of you moaning like a mess as he fills you up as if you were his personal flesh light.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Shanks, Benn Beckman, Trafalgar Law, Eustass Kidd, Roronoa Zoro, Dracule Mihawk, Kakashi Hatake, Madara Uchiha, Sosuke Aizen, Kisuke Urahara, Shunsui Kyoraku, Toji Fushijuro, Nanami Kento, & your favourites ♡

MasterList

About the Blog

[luffysscraps]

Dracule Mihawk absolutely NEEDS a chubby girlfriend.

Drabble; 🔞

It’s not a want, or need it’s a MUST.

Just thinking about him calmly sitting down on his throne. Wine in one hand, a book in his other. And you his chubby goth girlfriend in his lap. And he’s so serious all the time. He’s like “Y/N it’s 4 pm. It’s time for your daily belly rub.” And he’ll sit there rubbing your stomach like this ‘😐🍷’.

Despite his face he’s absolutely elated, he’s past cloud nine he’s reached heaven.

And of course he takes you everywhere with him. So when he sails across the sea in that tiny ass boat he just has you in his lap, petting you up like you’re a little rabbit while slashing down any sea kings or pirates that dare cross his path.

If you’re insecure about your weight or refuse to sit on his lap he’ll shut that down in seconds, he’ll literally stare at you blankly like. “My sword weighs more then you. You can’t hurt me.” He leaves no room for argument and just pulls you into his lap.

He loves feeding you and watching you eat. It’s just about the only thing that’ll make him smile. He doesn’t really know why but watching you eat is one of his favorite activities. He’s just silently looking over the table at you with a small smile on his face. “Do you want any more?” :)

He doesn’t look like it but he secretly likes it when you dress up for him. Whenever you and Perona come back from a shopping spree and you show him the outfits and lingerie it’s probably the only time his face turns red but he’s still stoic in the face. All he says is:

“Excellent.”

“Lovely.”

“Marvelous.”

When the other warlords tease him about his chubby chasing habits he simply rolls his eyes. “I’m simply a man, unlike you boys. You simpletons only like plump breasts or plump butts. Who’s afraid of extra soft plushness everywhere?” He says blankly while flipping through the newspaper without a care in the world.

He will Unironically wear a T-Shirt that says ‘plus size is my size.’ Or ‘the bigger the better.’

He really. REALLY. Wants you to sit on his face and will easily admit it. Suffocate him between your thighs and pussy please and thank you. “Y/N, may you please sit on my face?” He wants to drink your wetness until the ends of time.

In the past skinny girls had never made him cum. But your plump pussy, oh he can empty his load into you five times in one session. It’s so soft, so warm, that cute muffin top, your stretch marks. Good god this man is so in love with you.

He loves when you ride him. He’s holding onto the plush of your ass and pumping himself deep inside of you, burying himself in your cunt. “Good heavens.” He moans out as you pick up the pace and he just cums right then and there.

Aftercare is often him laying you down on top of him and him silently petting your hair. He doesn’t say it often but moments like these you know he loves you exponentially.

“Chubby women are truly superior.”

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

description: as the daughter of dracule mihawk, you've been living alone at home, unwilling to go out and find a life of your own due to the belief that your father needs you around. but when he sends you off to buy him a jacket, you end up running into a pirate crew—and a particular swordsman—that end up changing how you feel.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, sexual harassment (from nameless OC), slow burn

author’s note: finally she's here! i'm posting it spaced out because i don't want to overload you all with a 23.6k fic in one post... IMPORTANT NOTE: i did some research from the animanga for mihawk's personality, weapons, and home, but this is still very much only a fic for OPLA and not the other iterations of the material.

the fic is not exactly only a romance; it focuses a lot on the reader's personal character development along with her relationship with mihawk too. i hope you guys don't mind! i kind of lost the plot lol.

reader is mihawk's biological daughter, but is stated to take after her mother and doesn't bear similarity to mihawk. so the fic is poc reader friendly!

Your dad was late to dinner again. 

To be fair, Dracule Mihawk didn’t exactly follow a schedule. He was fickle—back when you’d been a girl, he’d been around all the time, because although he was a lot of things, Mihawk was not an absentee parent. But as you’d grown older, he started being less strict, leaving you alone for days and weeks until you’d finally matured into an adult. Mihawk spent most of his time away from the house, now—but you agreed to have dinner together every week, no matter what part of the ocean he was in. 

And he was late. 

You’d started cooking the meal early, only for Mihawk to not show up when everything was ready. Or after everything was ready. Or even when everything had cooled, and you’d eaten your fill, and waited in your chair for him to arrive. He finally showed up a quarter past two in the morning, the doors of the dining room bursting open to announce his entrance. 

You cracked an eye open from where you’d been dozing in your seat. “You’re late.” 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk said, taking his hat off and bowing with a flourish. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I got a little busy. Garp had me deal with a pirate in the East Blue.” 

You made a face at him as he sat down to eat. “Could’ve at least let me know. Den den mushi exist for a reason.” 

“Ah, well, my apologies.” Mihawk sighed, dramatic as ever—you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him for more than a few minutes, though, something he knew well. “It would’ve gone quickly had some upstart not challenged me to a duel. So I had to spend the night.” He tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And then I went to visit an old friend. Red-haired Shanks.”

“I remember him.” You got up from your seat, moving to the kitchen to rifle in the icebox for a popsicle. “Another duel? What’s this week’s body count?” 

“You know I don’t tally such trifling matters, sweetheart,” Mihawk said. You shrugged, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen to watch him start eating. “This pasta is cold.” 

“Wasn’t cold four hours ago,” you said, languidly licking at your popsicle. “No sympathy here, dad.” 

“Fine,” Mihawk said. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the man. Tall, green hair, three swords.” He wrinkled his nose. “Said people called him the Demon.” 

“Roronoa Zoro,” you affirmed, slipping into the chair beside your father. “Scariest pirate hunter in the East Blue. You killed him?” 

“Clearly not much of a pirate hunter, considering he’s a pirate now,” Mihawk said, the scrape of his knife and fork ringing around the room. “Joined the man I Garp sent me after, this little boy in a straw hat. And no. I let him and his crew go.” 

You paused, voice faltering as you registered the words. “You let him live?” 

“Yes. He was rather interesting. I expect he’ll come find me later,” Mihawk answered. You stared at him, still baffled. Your father was a lot of things, but a man of mercy was not one of them. Your earliest memory of him exacting his power over others was when you’d been two, watching from your crib as he speared the nanny for calling you a brat. A touching gesture, for certain, but still. “But enough about work. How have you been, little hawk?” 

“Bored,” you said with a sigh. “It’s so dull on this island.” 

Mihawk looked amused. “You could leave. I’m not restricting you here anymore.” Back in your teen years, Mihawk hadn’t let you leave the house—something about enemies wanting to kill his daughter or whatever else nonsense. He’d trained you personally, though, so you were nearly as fearsome as your father—able to beat anyone in combat in the blink of an eye. “You don’t have to stay.” 

“The house would get all dusty,” you protested, lips tugging into a line. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done any exploring. Mihawk had taken you to all four seas throughout your adolescence, and you’d taken vacations to everywhere of importance. You just—didn’t have much of a point to leave, really. You very much preferred not to, something tying you firmly to the island, to your castle. “And besides, where would I even go?” 

“I hear the East Blue is interesting this time of year,” Mihawk said. “You could venture around here, but…” He shrugged. “The Grand Line is dangerous.” 

You made a face. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I can take care of myself.” 

“Certainly,” Mihawk agreed easily. “But it’s simply not worth it. You really should get out more, dear. It’s not good for your health.” 

“Maybe,” you said, but you weren’t very enthusiastic about it. “Here, I’ll clean Yoru for you while you finish eating.” You moved around the back of his chair, lifting his sword off the jacket he hadn’t bothered to shed from his back. You grimaced upon seeing a line of dried blood along the blade. “Dad.”

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, and you rolled your eyes, carrying the sword over to the living room. You set Yoru down with a heavy thud, pulling out a box of materials. Mihawk came over to watch you, one arm propped against the doorway as his aureate eyes gazed down as you worked.

Compared to your dad, you looked relatively normal. You’d always taken after your mother—a mysterious woman you barely had any memories of—and the relation between the two of you was never immediately obvious. The fact your eyes were plainly normal instead of bearing the golden hawk eyes Mihawk had was another factor added to that, too. 

You pulled out a bottle of oil, pouring it generously over Yoru’s blade before grabbing a cloth to carefully wipe it with. “Where in the East Blue?” you asked abruptly, not looking up. Mihawk’s fork clinked along the ceramic of his bowl, presumably surprised you’d actually consider the offer of leaving. 

“Well, I could send you out to run some errands if you wish. I’ve got some things to attend to,” Mihawk optioned. “There’s this one store in Loguetown with a rather nice jacket I’ve had my eye on.”

You shot him a disbelieving look. “You want me to go to the East Blue to buy you a jacket.” 

Mihawk shrugged. “My birthday’s coming up.” 

“No, it’s not.” You slid your rag along the edge of Yoru’s blade, folding it in half before wiping the entire thing again to ensure there was no grime left. “Finished. Maybe I’ll just stay—” 

Mihawk gave you a look. 

“Fine. Loguetown it is,” you said with a sigh. “Don’t give me a crew. I’ll just take one of the sloops. I’ll get your dumb jacket for you.” You got up, tossing the cloth over a shoulder to hand wash later. “I’ll leave later today.” 

Mihawk clicked his tongue. “You’re so enthusiastic, darling. I can practically see the excitement oozing off of you.” 

You rolled your eyes, moving past him to go up to your room. “Short trip,” you said. “No more than a couple of days.” 

“The little hawk, so incited to leave the nest.”

“Shut up.” 

Mihawk had complied with your wishes, as when you woke up the next morning, he had already prepared a sloop for you to board alone. You packed some of your things, not being too fussy about the clothing or other objects, knowing that the boat was already well-stocked on its own. Mihawk waited to send you off, though you knew he probably had affairs to attend to by now. 

“Be good, darling,” he said, while you were loading up the last of your stuff. Just like your father, you preferred to wear your sword on your back; a present he’d given you at the age of thirteen. “I’ll call you. I’ve got business in the South Blue.” 

“Have fun,” you said, and he kissed the back of your hand before pushing you off. 

Loguetown was just how you’d remembered it, buzzing with civilians and pirates alike. The stores were plentiful, and filled to the brim with customers—it was all a little overwhelming compared to the peace and quiet you were used to. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to stay for a few weeks, and you might as well take your time there. 

You slung your coat on as you exited the docks, glancing around the town in search of something to do first. Since you weren’t especially interested in retrieving a jacket for your father just yet, you beelined to the nearest tavern to grab something to eat. It was a lot easier traveling without Mihawk at your side—as much as you loved him, he had the habit of attracting both trouble and fear wherever he went, and he was near impossible to go out with. 

The tavern was full, but not too crowded, and you managed to slip over to the bar without much trouble. It seemed to mostly consist of pirates—rough men with flowing jackets and holsters of guns and swords at their hip, clustered together in groupings that clearly proved their alliances with each other. You were one of the only patrons who was alone.

You gestured for the barkeep, and she bustled over from where she was serving a particularly ragtag group of pirates. They were mismatched, colors oddly paired—a girl with neon orange hair, a short man with a straw hat, one wearing a flowery shirt and goggles and the last man dressed in clothes far too formal for a bar. “What can I get for you?” she asked, a thick brogue dragging down her words. 

You told her your drink order, still eyeing the group. The barkeep followed your vision and let out a sigh. “Don’t bother. Three men have already tried to capture him for the bounty.  Broke half my furniture. And we got a rule here, anyway—no fightin’.” 

“Does he have a bounty?” you asked with a frown. She scoffed. 

“Does he ever. Thirty million berry, child. Highest in the East Blue.” She shook her head. “That crew won’t let anyone touch ‘im. Hell, I think his first mate’s still outside cleaning up the bodies.” She sighed again. “Well, I’ll have that drink out for you in a moment.” 

You nodded, slipping into the closest available chair. Now that you were paying attention, you could see practically every pair of eyes fixed on the group—specifically, on the man in the center wearing the straw hat. 

Before you could ask another question, the door to the tavern opened, and a lean, green-haired man filled the doorway. You glanced over at the barkeep, a flash of recognition in your eyes. “That’s Roronoa Zoro.” 

“Aye,” she said, setting your drink in front of you. “If there’s someone who might be able to cash in that bounty, it’d be him. But believe it or not, he’s with the Straw Hat.” 

You watched as the pirate hunter made his way to the table the others sat at. The glint of his famed three earrings reflected off the tavern lights, and the sword on his hip swayed as he walked—but there was only one rather than the three you’d heard tales about. “Yeah, my father said something of the sort.” 

The barkeep hummed, turning to attend to a pirate who’d taken a seat at your left. “And who’s your father, lass?” 

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

The pirate beside you raised his head, turning towards you in almost alarm. Beside him, his crew quieted, and the barkeep glanced up to meet your eyes. “Dracule Mihawk?” she repeated incredulously. 

“He sent me to buy him a coat,” you said. “I don’t suppose you know where any shops are around here?” 

“Er, there’s a shop off main you might want to see,” the barkeep said, eyes flickering over to the pirate crew that had changed their focus to you. “Anything else for you, then?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. She nodded, leaving the bar in favor of moving over to another table. The pirate beside you turned slowly, stool scraping against the floor as he sneered down at you.

“Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, eh?” he asked. “Care if I buy you a drink?” Behind him, the rest of his crew tittered. You just sighed.

“Sorry, my father doesn’t let me go out with anyone who hasn’t bested me in combat.” You knocked back the rest of your drink, glancing up and down the pirate’s figure. He didn’t look like much—two pistols strapped to the hip, a longsword on the other, a raggedy leather jacket with a hat to match. 

The pirate scoffed. “Please,” he said, though you could see his skin turning rapidly crimson. “I doubt you’re even related to him. No hawk eyes or nothing.” 

You met his gaze, lips tightening into a line. “I take after my mother.” 

“Biggest lie I ever heard, aye, crew?” The pirate turned back towards the rest of his men, and they cheered in agreement. You huffed out a sigh, trying your very best not to turn combative—despite everything, you were proud of your relationship with your father, and anyone trying to call you a liar for your lineage just left you vexed and angry. Before you could step away, though, the pirate turned towards the rest of the tavern, apparently having had a bit too much liquor. He raised his voice, practically yelling now. “Oi! This girl thinks she’s the daughter of Dracule Mihawk!” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Roronoa Zoro look up, the rest of his crew glancing over at you at the words. You were distracted within a second, the pirate shoving your arm. “Hey, don’t look away, girl. I’m trying to—” 

You grabbed onto his wrist, nails razor-sharp as they embedded into his skin. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Oh, you think you’re tough, do you?” The pirate yanked his hand out of your grip. “Did your daddy teach you how to fight, huh? Think you can beat me?” 

“I know I can beat you,” you answered. The pirate reached for his sword, then, fingers tightening around the hilt. 

“Alright, let’s make it a bet then. You beat me, I believe your claim about being Mihawk’s daughter.” His lips curled back into an ugly sneer, and you debated stepping out of the conversation and just going off to find that shop for your dad’s coat anyway. Fights like these were never worth getting into, and you really didn’t want to break any more of the barkeep’s furniture after she’d let out her annoyances to you. 

Before you could, though, the pirate opened his big mouth once again. 

“I beat you, and you go to bed with me.”

You were whipping your sword out before you could even think, red flashing in your vision as you scraped your blade out from the holster on your back. The metal gleamed under the lights, white steel bright as day as you leveled it in your hand. It wasn’t the largest weapon, a perfectly balanced cut-and-thrust spadroon with a golden hilt wrapped in white ribbon. You tightened your grip on the handle. 

“I beat you,” you hissed, voice low, “and you’re dead.” 

He lunged for you, pulling his sword out in one solid stroke and meeting yours in a loud clang. You shot an apologetic look towards the barkeep, spinning on your back leg and kicking the pirate away. The force caused him to stumble, sword skittering to the side as you shoved it off your blade. 

One of his crew members had cocked a gun to your head, and you spun your swords toward him, blade cutting through the metal like it was butter. The rest of the crew stepped back, one or two of them lunging for you. You parried all of their attacks, shoving them to the ground until they stopped trying to fight. 

The captain had gotten up, a fierce snarl upon his face as you slammed your blade down towards him. He blocked it with his sword, and then went for various attacks towards your figure—you dodged each one of them, parrying them easily as you moved backwards. At the last one, you used your weight to buck the sword back in his direction, and he stumbled again. 

You ducked down, sweeping him off his feet with a well-aimed kick to his shins, and he fell, sword clattering out of reach as he dropped flat on his back. You towered over him, pointing the edge of your blade at his throat. 

“You want me to go outside to kill him?” you asked. The barkeep sighed. 

“If you don’t mind, lass.” 

“Not at all.” You bent over, grabbing firmly onto the pirate’s shirt and yanking him upwards. His crew made a move towards you, but you just shoved your sword in their direction, and they stepped away. You spun your sword’s hilt around in your hand with a flourish, then started dragging the captain out the tavern door. 

“No—wait—let me go,” the pirate begged, once you dropped him to the gravel outside and moved your sword to his throat again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it—you’re a pretty girl, that’s all—” 

“I don’t date men who can’t beat me in combat,” you said coolly. “Lower your expectations.” With that, you spun your sword again, sliding it back on the holster of your jacket. “I’ll let you live just this once. If you ever make any comments towards a woman again—” 

“I get it. I’m sorry,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. You just eyed him. 

“I need another drink.” 

The tavern was dead silent when you returned to your seat, gingerly sitting back down on the stool you’d first occupied. “Another drink, if you don’t mind,” you said to the barkeep, and she nodded. A moment passed as she filled your mug, and then she asked—

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?” 

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, taking the drink she offered and taking a swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Straw Hat pirate and his crew muttering amongst themselves. One of them nudged Roronoa Zoro in the side, and he grimaced, the loose shirt he wore parting with the motion. You caught a glimpse of bandages, wound tight with blood seeping through a familiar line. Yoru’s doing. 

Zoro stood up, making his way over to the bar beside you. He propped his elbows on the table, but he didn’t sit, nodding at the barkeep. “Another round for my friends,” he said. His voice was quieter than you’d expected; a low mutter and almost soft in timbre. He glanced over at you, eyes flickering down and up again before he spoke. “I tried to kill your father.” 

“Yeah, he told me,” you said. “Roronoa Zoro. What happened to your other two swords?” 

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.” 

“He can be a little dramatic sometimes,” you said apologetically. He glanced over you again.

“You don’t look much like him.” He paused. “Figured I’d know if Mihawk had a daughter.” 

“I take after my mother, and he’s very overprotective,” you said, getting just the slightest bit annoyed about everyone questioning your parentage. The barkeep returned then, sliding five beers across the table over to Zoro, and you stood up. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have some shopping to do.” 

You exited the tavern after paying your tab, wandering around the streets of Loguetown to find the closest clothing store. Your father’s style was ridiculously grand, so it’d be something in the nicer branch of the city—you had just entered your best guess when you pulled out a shell phone, pushing the little snail into your ear and calling your father’s number. 

He picked up on the first ring. “What is it, darling?” 

“Did you have a specific coat in mind?” You glanced through a row of black leather, trying to find one that’d match Mihawk’s liking. “I’m at this place called Lady Tide’s Dressing Boutique. It’s the bougiest place I could find.” 

“Lady Tide’s would be correct,” Mihawk said. “I trust your taste. Pick something I’d like.” 

“You better be paying me back for this,” you threatened, turning the corner as you spoke. You jumped back in surprise, letting out a squeak as the Straw Hat pirate from before appeared right in front of you, a grin stretching up his face. 

Mihawk’s laugh crackled through the line at your surprise. “Get startled, dear?” 

“The pirate Garp sent you after is stalking me,” you deadpanned. The Straw Hat pirate’s grin only widened. “I’ll call you back.” 

You hung up, taking the den den mushi out of your ear and back into its case. “What?” 

“You’re a really good fighter,” the Straw Hat said brightly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. You should think about joining my crew!” 

“I—” you stared at him in disbelief, mind reeling from the whiplash of his words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a pirate.”

Luffy tilted his head to the side in question. “But your dad is Mihawk.”

“That doesn’t make me a pirate. I just stay at home for the most part,” you said. Luffy continued following you around the store, however, even as you stepped past him to browse more jackets. You glimpsed the rest of his crew hanging around the store, though none seemed to do any actual shopping. You figured Lady Tide’s was probably out of their price range. “Why are you still following me?” 

“I think you should join my crew,” Luffy repeated. “Have you ever been to the Grand Line? That’s where we’re headed next.”

You gave him a look. “I live in the Grand Line.” 

“Whoa,” Luffy breathed. “Well, you must know all about it, then!” 

You turned away from him, picking a jacket off the rack in front of you and appraising it. Golden buttons, long tailcoat, wide lapels—not really Mihawk’s taste. You set it back. “Not really,” you finally answered. “Like I said, I stay at home for the most part. Haven’t done much exploring.” 

“Don’t you want to?” Luffy asked, taking a step closer to you. You flinched. “Your dad’s one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea! You should be going out and adventuring, not just staying at home and doing whatever Mihawk tells you to!” 

“Don’t,” you snapped, voice low. “I stay home because I want to. Not because my dad forces me to.” Your words bore no lie, but still, there was a rumble of uncertainty deep in your gut. Mihawk had always been supportive, but pirating had always been his thing. You preferred the solace of your own home, and there was no point in adventuring when Mihawk had seen it all before. 

“I’m just saying, what do you even do all day?” Luffy asked with a quirk of the lip. “Stay home and clean? Go out once in a while to buy groceries or get stuff for your dad?” He gestured at the coat you were holding, and you flushed, shoving it back onto the rack. “Isn’t it boring? Don’t you want more than such an average life?” 

“I’m perfectly happy with my life right now, thank you,” you snapped. “Go preach to someone else.” 

Luffy had stopped walking, then, looking at you with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Living isn’t the same as thriving, you know,” he said. “You should go out. Find adventure. Aren’t there things you want to know? Questions you want answered?” 

“Luffy.” You turned to see Roronoa Zoro move to his captain’s side, head dipping as he spoke to him. His tone was quiet, but you could still overhear— “Leave her alone. We’ve got business.” 

Luffy looked dejected at that, but he agreed, bowing his head towards you before turning to the rest of his crew. They’d gathered by the mouth of the store, engaged in their own various activities as they waited. You watched Luffy turn to leave, words climbing up your throat even as you tried to swallow them down. “Wait!” 

Luffy turned, that bright smile reappearing on his face. “What?” 

“I want to know one thing,” you said, taking a step closer to the captain and his first mate. You glanced up at Zoro, who met your gaze. His face seemed carved of steel, skin bearing no grimace, eyes betraying nothing. “Why did my father let you live?” 

Zoro looked away, and you realized he probably didn’t know the answer himself. Before you could speak again, though, Luffy interrupted. 

“Because Zoro’s the best,” he declared, capturing your attention away from the injured swordsman. He slapped Zoro’s bicep with a heavy thud, and you were surprised when the other man didn’t even flinch. “And he’s gonna be better than Mihawk one day. He’s going to defeat him in a duel and take his title and become—” 

“The world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro finished. The words were muttered under his breath, clearly to himself rather than intending for you to hear. 

You watched them for a moment before finally turning away. “Okay,” you said. “Good luck with that.” 

Luffy stared at you for a moment longer, but Zoro was already turning away and walking towards the rest of the crew. There was an unsettling feeling in your gut, one you tried to squash. Whatever—you had better things to do than worry about some Straw Hat pirate and a retired pirate hunter. 

You returned to your browsing, looking through various jacket designs until you finally fell across one you were certain your father liked. It was ridiculously expensive, but your father’s taste had always been so—you purchased it without a second thought, slinging it across a shoulder and returning to your sloop for the rest of the day. 

To your great disappointment, the Straw Hat pirate’s words continued to echo throughout your head. His demeanor was off-putting, to say the least—the extreme amounts of candor and cheeriness he had made for a disorienting combination. Even as you tried to stop thinking about his terrifyingly honest words, you couldn’t. Don’t you want more than such an average life?

You sighed, mood irritable from the day's events. You’d returned to your sloop and hadn’t done much of anything for a few hours—past having a meal and cleaning up your boat, there was nothing to do. You mulled over your options, wondering if you shouldn’t just start the journey back home. But Luffy’s words came back to you. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered, donning your coat and leaving to attend the first bar you could find. 

You went someplace ritzy this time, near the peak of Loguetown where neon lights glimmered in the dark hour. It was crowded, and music blasted through the bar, pounding bass nearly making the floor reverberate. You slipped inside without much trouble, squeezing through the crowd and making way for the bar at the other end of the room. 

You bought yourself a drink, knocking it back in just a few gulps. There were marines patrolling around in the building, although none of them seemed too keen on completing any of their duties. Pirates walked around freely too, but these ones were more dignified than the ones you’d seen in the tavern at town. 

“You hear Straw Hat Luffy’s here at Loguetown right now?” someone muttered to your right. You glanced over with a furtive gaze to see who was speaking—two men, dressed in fine silks and coats. Swords dangled from their hips. Pirates, maybe, or pirate hunters. “His ship’s docked over by south port.” 

“You’re not going to try and nab him, are you?” the other pirate hunter asked, fingers pinched around a thin glass of something. “That bounty’s hefty, but fighting them’ll be…” 

“I’m getting a bunch of hunters together,” the first one said. “We’ll split the bounty. At midnight, once the whole crew’s asleep. I followed the navigator; seems they’re not leaving until the morning.” 

“Thirty million split between many isn’t much.” 

“Well.” The hunter made a vague gesture, a smirk playing at his lips. “I doubt we’ll all be alive by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.” 

“Right.” The second hunter downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll be there. Where’s the rendezvous point?” 

“Slip forty at south port. Come at midnight,” the first one replied. “My boat. Theirs is at fifty-two.” 

You turned away, knocking back the last of your drink before setting the glass back down on the counter. Your mind reeled, and you pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Nearly eleven. Only an hour left. 

“Another drink,” you called, but you stopped after that one. Logically, you knew the Straw Hat crew would be able to handle themselves. Your father wouldn’t have let Zoro go had he not been an impressive fighter—and Luffy certainly had to have some tricks up his sleeve, having such a high bounty and all. But an ambush was an ambush. 

You needed to go home. 

You paid your bill and slunk outside, taking the long road down to the port. You were docked in the east, but you found yourself wandering towards south port, hands shoved in your pockets and sword heavy on your back. 

There was no logical reason to get involved with pirates, you tried to tell yourself. That was Dracule Mihawk’s area of expertise. That was Dracule Mihawk’s life. Not his daughter’s. You were not a pirate—there was no point in being one. Mihawk has done everything already. 

You stepped onto the pier of south port, the wooden ramp trembling under your feet. They were shoddily constructed; oak on water, with pegs every few feet or so and ropes thrown casually across the walkways. It was overcrowded with boats, too—ships of every kind and size, smushed into spots not big enough for them depending on how much you paid the dock men. The moon shimmered on the surface of the East Blue. She was calm today, waves lapping at the edges of the docks, tranquil in the night. 

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight. 

Dock forty moored a relatively small ship, but it was crowded with men—ten or fifteen, maybe, and you knew they’d be killing each other when the fight was through. Thirty million berry divided between so many people was barely worth it. You slunk past them, counting the numbers of the boat berths. 

You knew the boat before you looked at the slip number based on appearance alone. It was large in size, a caravel sporting a gigantic goat figurehead. You stared at it, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Well, it was certainly a ship. There was a large sail boasting the ship’s jolly roger—a crudely designed skull and crossbones sporting the same straw hat their captain wore. 

With a sigh, you pulled yourself onboard, careful to not make a sound as you landed on the deck. It was quiet, but you doubted the crew didn’t have at least one lookout for trouble. You tiptoed around the mast, moving towards the foredeck.

You were just about to step a foot on the staircase when a gleaming katana came to your throat. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Roronoa Zoro was as calm as ever as he held a blade to your jugular, posture perfectly straight, eyes tilted in your direction. You glanced down at the blade, registering the smooth metal. It was the white-handled one; upon seeing it closer, you could better register its quality. It must’ve been insanely durable, more so than his other blades considering Yoru hadn’t shattered this one in battle—one of the strongest blades in the world. 

“What’s the sword’s name?” you asked. 

Zoro ignored your question. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. 

You sighed, turning towards him, although you were careful not to touch the sword. Zoro’s grip didn’t budge. “There are pirate hunters coming here,” you answered. “At midnight. An ambush.” 

Zoro still didn’t move. The night sky cast his entire face in shadow, the only light on board being a trembling lantern by the interior doors. You could just barely see the gleam of one eye, yellow light shining on his cheekbone. “Why would you come?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered coolly. “My father let you go for a reason. It’d be a shame if you died before you realized why.” It was an easy lie—because the real reason was one you didn’t want to think about. Because Luffy’s words struck something in you. Because they rang true. 

“We don’t need your protection.” 

You shrugged, only one shoulder moving upwards before relaxing again. “Just a friendly warning.” 

Carefully, Zoro lowered his blade, the steel scraping along the edge of its scabbard opening before he slid it closed. “The Wado Ichimonji.” 

Your eyes were still on the sheathed katana. “Hm?” 

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.” 

You tilted your head back, angling it towards the sword strapped to your jacket. “Hiru,” you said. “That’s mine.” 

“Day,” Zoro translated. “You have matching swords with your father?” 

“Just matching names,” you answered. “It’s a spadroon, not a kreigsmesser. Much smaller than Yoru. Birthday present. When I was thirteen.” 

Zoro eyed you. “I’ll wake the rest of the crew,” he said. “You can go.” 

You made no move to, consulting your watch as Zoro rang the ship’s bell. Five minutes to midnight. You could already hear the near-noiseless patter of footsteps on the pier. 

The orange-haired woman was the first out, fingers wrapped around a short wooden rod. She exchanged a look with Zoro, and he nodded towards the pier. She somehow knew exactly what he meant from that, dodging back inside the ship and returning, dragging a dark-haired man out. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” the man asked, stifling a yawn as he fiddled with a slingshot. Both Zoro and the woman shushed him. “Jeez, okay.” He noticed you then. “Oh, hey, you’re the hawk dude’s kid—”

“Shut up, Usopp,” the woman snapped. She’d moved by the boat’s side, ducked under the rim. The footsteps were getting louder. 

The blond man came out next, hands shoved casually in his pockets and dressed in clothes you genuinely did not think functioned as sleepwear. “Hunters,” the orange-haired woman said. “Ambush.” 

“Isn’t that lovely,” the blond man murmured. He caught your eye, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, hello there.” 

Both Zoro and the woman rolled their eyes. Before the blond could say anything more, though, the hunters’ footsteps abruptly stopped. 

The orange-haired woman spun up from her crouch, wooden stick extending into a long staff as she whipped it out. She slammed one end of the staff into an incoming hunter’s gut as he leapt aboard the ship, forcing him off the side of the vessel.

Everything happened all at once, then—you heard the slick shing! of Zoro unsheathing his katana, and the blond was up and running towards another gaggle of hunters within the second, legs flying in an assortment of well-placed kicks. 

You reached over your shoulder, tugging Hiru out of its straps. The blade shone bright under the moonlight, and you caught an incoming hunter’s sword with the lick of it, shoving him backwards as you spun.

“Why’s Mihawk’s girl here?” the blond called, as he slid across the deck, leg raising up into a spinning hook. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He met your eyes and winked, leaving you staring in utter disbelief until another hunter distracted you. “I’m Sanji!” 

“Okay?” you asked blankly, letting out a huff of exertion as you whipped your sword toward the hunter. He’d pulled out one of his guns, wielding his blade one-handed as he fumbled with the trigger. You breathed in, recalling your father’s words from the thousands of hours spent training. Take advantage of any imbalances, sweetheart. Focus on the center of gravity. 

You aimed a sliding kick at the man’s gun, using Hiru to push against his blade. The pressure caused him to fling halfway across the ship, body thudding against the mast before falling to the ground in a heap. 

“Impressive,” Sanji whistled from his spot across the ship. 

“Shut up,” Zoro and the orange-haired woman said in unison. Zoro was beside the fallen hunter in a second, katana slashing cleanly through his torso before he spun and shoved the blade straight into an incoming man’s stomach. Sanji just scoffed. 

“Show-off,” he said accusatively. Zoro rolled his eyes, turning towards Sanji to argue, when you glimpsed someone at his back. You lunged for the man, sword cutting cleanly through his jugular before he fell across the deck, decollated. 

Zoro turned, glancing over his shoulder at the body and then up at you. “You’re welcome,” you said, flicking Hiru to the side. Spatters of blood dripped off its blade. 

“...Right.” The number of hunters had considerably thinned, only three or four left. The orange-haired woman was still fighting two of them, placing hits of her bo staff along two mens’ skulls. Usopp had crouched by the forecastle, firing pellets off with his slingshot. Sanji dusted off the final two men, until only the ringleader was left. 

“Wait, wait.” The hunter backed away until he ran into the ship’s railing. He scrambled for his pistol, but as Zoro, Sanji, and the orange-haired woman advanced on him, apparently realized the idea was in vain. “We—we can talk about this.” 

“I don’t think we can.” You turned at the new voice, watching as Luffy slipped out from the captain’s chambers. His hand came up to adjust his hat, crowned atop his head as always. “You came aboard my ship and tried to hurt my friends.” 

The hunter’s jaw fell slack, mouth drying over as Luffy came to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew had parted to allow him space, and Luffy titled his head up, the lick of light from the lantern shining against his skin. A crescent-shaped scar under his eye glowed bright, the skin paler than the rest of his face.

“Gum gum…” he started, voice steadily rising in volume as he extended his hand backwards, fingers curled into a fist. To your surprise, his arm just kept stretching back, limb getting longer and longer with a distinctly rubbery stretch until it was all the way at the other side of the ship. “Pistol!” 

His arm snapped back all in one, knocking the hunter straight in the jaw and shoving him off the ship in one, devastating blow. You stared at his flailing body, watching as he dropped straight into the ocean ten or so meters away with a loud plop. 

You turned towards Luffy, one brow arched in question. “You’re a Devil Fruit eater?”

“The Gum Gum fruit,” Luffy said brightly. He adjusted his hat once more, fixing it atop his head before reaching an arm out to pat you on the shoulder. “Thank you for warning us. You’re a good person.” 

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced down at Hiru. “Have anything I can clean my blade with?” 

“Sure! Let Sanji cook you something while you’re here,” Luffy said. “It’s the least we can do.” 

“Of course,” Sanji said with a little bow. “What would you like? Name anything and I’ll make it.” 

You eyed him. “…Anything.” 

Sanji let out an exaggerated sigh. “So uninspired. Meet you in the kitchen, then. We can leave the mosshead to clean up the bodies.” 

The orange-haired woman just rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” she declared. She glanced over at you, appraising you in one solid sweep up and down your body. “I’m Nami.” 

With that final word, she departed, snapping closed her staff and slipping back into the boat. Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji shuffled into the boat, presumably the kitchen. Zoro just sighed, setting his katana to the side to start cleaning up the corpses left after the battle. 

You made no move to follow the others inside, watching as Zoro easily lifted up one of the hunters. The lines of his biceps strained as he climbed off the ship, still hefting the body before finally placing it down on the pier. 

“Just toss them into the ocean,” you called. Zoro glanced over his shoulder, registering you standing there. He picked another body up. 

“I don’t want to block our slip,” he answered. 

“Fair enough. Any oil around here?” You wandered to the ship’s side, glancing through the boxes fixed to the deck. Zoro gestured in some direction that harmed more than it helped, really, but you dug through some boxes before unearthing something you could clean Hiru with. 

You worked in silence, slicking the blade with the oil and rubbing off all the blood and mess that had gotten onto it. Zoro was quick, piling up all the corpses and barely-alive bodies by the dock. He shoved a few of them awake with his boot. “Go find a doctor,” you heard him mutter under his breath. You suppressed a laugh. 

Eventually, Zoro climbed back on board, searching for his sword only to find it in your hands. You carefully polished off the last of the blade, then presented it to him. “You’re welcome.” 

“…Thanks,” Zoro said, sheathing it in one smooth swipe.

“The cut,” you said, glancing down at his torso again. His shirt was covering the bandages, but you knew they were still there. “It was Yoru that did it. Not Kogatana.” 

“The big one, yeah,” Zoro answered. You watched him thoughtfully, although you didn’t say a word. He seemed to get impatient by that, and was speaking just a moment afterwards— “Why?” 

You gave a quick shake of your head. “Nothing,” you answered, the lie slipping easily off your tongue. But your mind churned with thoughts, the mere brain activity making your stomach curdle. It hadn’t clicked before, but now—your father didn’t use Yoru on anyone who wasn’t worthy. And letting Zoro live—letting the entire crew go, against Garp’s orders? 

This was a more interesting group than you’d anticipated. 

Zoro eyed you for a moment as you were lost in thought, though he didn’t say anything to interrupt you. Once you finally looked up, he adjusted, clearing his throat. “Should go inside to make sure the waiter isn’t burning down the kitchen,” he said, straightening.  

You stood up, sliding Hiru into its scabbard on your back. “The… waiter?” 

Zoro shook his head. “Long story.” He gestured with his head, nodding towards the double doors. “Kitchen.” 

You followed him, the soft aroma of garlic and meat wafting around the room the instant you stepped foot inside. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, propped on chairs and staring as Sanji prepared a meal before them. You joined the group, glancing over Usopp’s shoulder to watch. 

There was a stir-fry on the stove, garlic and onions joined by various other vegetables. Sanji drizzled soy sauce along the pan, scraping it around once with his spatula before turning down the heat. He added in some rice—leftover, it looked—along with some battered eggs, mixing it all together. 

“Vegetable and chicken fried rice,” Sanji said, turning off the heat once everything had cooked through and starting to distribute it into servings. “I went for something universal because I don’t know what you like.” He met your eyes, flashing a giant, warm smile again. You took the bowl he offered, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic. 

“Thank you,” you said. The four of you stood in silence, and you had the feeling that you were intruding. The crew was a tight unit, that much was certain—wound tightly around each other, ropes intersecting in delicate knots and bows. You turned your attention to your meal. You hadn’t had a real supper, so the food was a welcome surprise, and it was damn near close to the best thing you’d ever tasted. 

“So,” Luffy started, “Not to bug you about it a hundred times, but…” You glanced up. His expression was earnest as he met your eyes, lips tugged upwards in an encouraging smile even as he spoke. “Are you joining us?”

“Am I—? Oh,” you said, realizing what it was Luffy was referring to. “Is the offer still standing?” 

“Always,” he answered brightly. “You’d be a good fit for our crew, you know.” 

Would you really? There wasn’t much of anything special about you besides your parentage. You were as skilled a swordswoman as any, but there were hundreds better and stronger than you. There was no one thing you truly excelled at. “I’ll think about it,” you said hesitantly. 

“Well, think quick. We leave at dawn,” Luffy said. “Meet us back here at blue hour if you’d like to join up.” He smiled again, all unassuming, and it was hard to believe a boy so pleasant had a thirty million berry bounty hanging suspended over his head. He yawned, stretching out his long limbs. “Well, I’m off to sleep. Sanji’s next watch.” He glanced over at Zoro. “Why don’t you walk her back to her slip, Zoro?” 

 Your brows furrowed, about to object, but Zoro was already standing up. He opted to say nothing, leaving you to set down your empty bowl and say your goodbyes in a hurry to follow him out. 

The bodies on the pier had thinned, the alive ones presumably having dragged themselves to town to find a doctor. Zoro stepped over the heap of corpses, and you followed suit, walking in silence down south port. “I’m a little far,” you said. “You might lose your way heading back.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Zoro dismissed. “I’m… sorry about Luffy. He can get overly enthusiastic.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are the rest of the crew open to me joining, though? It didn’t seem like he consulted any of you.” 

Zoro’s brows lifted at that, though you weren’t certain why. “We’re all fine with it,” he said eventually. “Luffy wouldn’t invite someone who wouldn’t fit.” He hesitated, the plod of your footsteps creaking against the dock walkway for a few paces before he parted his lips again. “I’m going to fight Mihawk again, you know.” 

“I figured,” you answered. You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you, scraping along your skin like they were blades themselves. 

“You’re not upset by that?” 

“Everyone wants to kill him for some reason or another,” you said. “You’re not the first.” Though there was something undeniably special about him. The fact he was still alive, for one. “I figure you’re a long way from that, so I’ll have a father for a few years more until you try to kill him again.” 

There was something in the way you phrased your words that sounded so very ironic, and Zoro couldn’t suppress the light grunt from escaping his lips. It was dry, brittle—but closer to a laugh than a scoff, you could tell. “Is that your blessing?” 

“Sure,” you said. “I, Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, hereby allow you, Roronoa Zoro, to murder my father in a duel.” The lightness in your tone dropped. “If you don’t mind me asking…” you took in a light breath, letting the taste of the words melt on your tongue before slipping them out. “Why do you want to, anyway? Defeat him, I mean?” 

“I made a promise to someone a long time ago,” Zoro answered. His footsteps slowed as you reached your slip, the small sloop you’d sailed all the way to Loguetown calm as ever where it was moored. The black sails—vague, nondescript—sucked away all the light the moon attempted to cast on it, so it was even darker than the rest of the surroundings. “I told her I would become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s heavy,” you remarked, turning to face your companion. His skin was waxy and dull under the moonlight—aftereffects of the injury he still hadn’t fully recovered from. Zoro just shrugged. 

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.” 

“He’s a good father,” you said. “I think he’d like you.” You paused. “Well, he does. He wouldn’t have let you live if he didn’t.” 

Zoro stiffened, the lines of his body tightening, spine pulling up just slightly. You noticed the change—you always did. Observation had always been one of your biggest strengths. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the golden irises your father had, but you had hawk eyes of your own in that way. Never missing a thing, picking out all flaws and details in a scene. “I’m not sure if I want him to like me.” 

“He doesn’t feel hatred for a lot of people,” you said. “Just disdain. Though I’m fairly certain he’d have skewered that drunk at the bar earlier if he’d been with me.” 

“The one who—” Zoro looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered what the pirate had offered you. He made a vague gesture instead, just mildly vulgar in motion. You suppressed a laugh. 

“Exactly,” you agreed. “He doesn’t have patience for that sort of thing. He also feels no man who’s weaker than me in combat isn’t man enough to be with me, though I have questions about that particular rule.” 

Zoro snorted. “You could definitely do better than the drunk pirate.” 

“Right.” You glanced up at the moon, watching the steady silver glow of her face along the edge of the horizon. She was full, round and white, soft powder creasing the dents and shadows of her face. “I’m out for the night, then. Thank you for walking me.” 

Zoro shrugged. He didn’t say anything, so you turned away, stepping onto your sloop without another word. You ducked into the interior room, closing the door firmly behind you so you could finally relax. 

You had only a handful of hours of rest ahead of you, after all.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

i'll be making a taglist for this series; just comment if you'd like to be added!

© halfvalid 2023

[short-honey-badger]

Just wondering how you think the Dilfs of one piece (Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy, Crocodile, etc) would react to thier s/o being extremely dense? Like in a "I love you but your an idiot" kinda way.

This was fun, so I really hope I did your ask justice! ❤️❤️

Pairings! Draculex reader Shanks x reader Buggy x reader Crocodile x reader Doflamingo x Reader Marco x reader and Smoker x reader

MIHAWK is a little annoyed at first when he finds that you've completely reorganized his bookshelf by how much you like the covers. He sighs in exasperation, but you look so happy with how the bookshelf now looks that he can't find it in himself to be too upset.

“Oh, to understand the inner workings of your mind, my Darling.”

SHANKS is always excited to wake up and see what you're going to surprise him with next. You enjoy the simple things in life, so it always overjoys him when you appear by his side with a megawatt smile and a pretty shell or sand dollar.

“Whatcha got there, baby? Gonna add it to the others you're got?”

You're a clumsy fuck and BUGGY sometimes wonders why he puts up with you. Especially when you come stumbling into the tent on Big Top, trip over the only rope in the floor, catch yourself on his pants and then down you go. Buggy curses loudly when his crew catches sight of his heart print boxers.

“You better be glad that I fucking love you, little clown.”

It's more than once that the devil fruit user has to pull you away from the banana gators in the feeding area under the casino. It pisses him off that you keep putting yourself in danger, but you always grin and hold tight to CROCODILE, telling him that you always know that he'll save you every time.

“I'm no hero, sweetheart. Quiet trying my patience.”

DOFLAMINGO loves that you are ignorant of who he really is. He is your white knight. The prince comes to save the princess locked away in her lonely tower. You hold him close after a long day, his head pressed to your chest.

“Mhmm. Such a sweet doll. And all mine, too.”

You sit in MARCO'S office, a cute frown on your face as you watch your lover unravel some gauze and then carefully wrap it around the cleaned cut on your leg. The wound is recent, from defending the Moby Dick from rival pirates, an unnecessary risk. He sighs once he is finished and kisses right above the wrap.

“I wish you'd be more careful, my love.”

SMOKER definitely disagrees with your decision to become a pirate. He thought it a dumb ass decision, but he loved you and had vowed to support you in every way he could. However, he has to draw the line when you show up on his ship and demand that he make your bounty higher.

“What? No, I don't need someone I can't fight off coming for you!”

[lizardboiii]

Tongue Tied┃One Piece

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

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

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

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

・❥・

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

│wc: 1.8k

│chapters: I II III

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

・❥・

│Chapter I: Bird of Prey

Squawking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・❥・

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

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

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

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

You were going home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are…”

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

“You?”

You had no idea what he was saying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“𝚂𝚒𝚛, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gestured at his ship, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You clasped your hands together, “𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A sudden thought crossed your mind. 

Goldy lived here.

・❥・

[justa-fanfic-writer]

Suprise adoption

Summary: You came back home with a few bruises and some scars while carrying a small child that looked like him. Now you both are parents to said child.

Pairing: Domestic Mihawk x Male Reader

Content warning: None

Genre: Fluff

---------------------------------------

It was a quiet evening, birds chirping, trees swaying a bit from the wind it was a perfect day to relax and do nothing.

Mihawk was reading the news to see if there was anything interesting happening while drinking black coffee.

Until...

SLAM!

Mihawk heard the door slam open, and he already knew who it was. It was his husband [Reader] who was screaming his name with excitement, running towards him with a wide grin while holding something or someone.

Mihawk wasn't phased when he saw him until he saw his spouse holding something behind his back he took a good look at it, and it was a child...? Mihawk raised one of his eyebrows and asked what he was holding behind his back and than [Reader] smiled even wider and showed him what it is and spoke.

"Look, Mihawk, I kidnapped found a child when i was exploring egghead Island, and he looks just like you! isn't he just adorable? Let's adopt him!"

The child was stoically looking at him while crossing his arms together, demanding why he was taken here.

Mihawk looking at said child and to put it frankly, not surprised at the slightest he had a pink bubblegum goth and a moss headed swordsman who had no sense of directions dropped at his and your castle out of the blue so he didn't care if there was another one coming to freeload at his home again.

He was amused by your enthusiasm when you wanted to adopt him, oh well. Whatever his love wants, he will get and do no questions asked. (Wish I had a lover like him fr)

After you had forcibly adopted the seraphim child, You and Mihawk took care of him as if he were your actual child. The little hawk was warming up to you both quickly and started to see you both as his parent figures, and he even called Mihawk and You, his dad, and Papa!

Nothing really changed that much, except you both now have a bio-engineered seraphim child that had an unfathomable amount of strength, but what's the worst that can happen?

Everything

First order of business, You and Mihawk had started working on the murder tendencies that Vegapunk had put on the child instead of wanting to murder everything as if that would solve all problems.

Second order of business try to give the said murder tendency child a normal childhood like like giving him wooden toy swords or a plushie and not make the child feel as if his an object.

Mihawk is a dad by nature he even has the skills and reflexes to prove it too.

Mihawk wouldn't be the spoiling type of parent if anything discipline would be high on his list of parenting the child you're probably gonna be the one who would spoil the child because I mean how could you say no to the little baby-hawk hm? Or not who knows.

Mihawk is a quiet man, and so is the child. While baby-hawk doesn't always communicate verbally, he makes up for it by for example doing some gestures like holding up books for You to read to him or tugging You or Mihawk's leg to point or say if he wants something.

Now imagine this scenario.

it's just that You and Mihawk are asleep cuddling in bed, and then you both wake up to mini-hawk, turning on the lights.

You groggily rubbed your eyes, and Mihawk was a little irritated that mini-hawk woke you both up, and then you asked mini-hawk why he woke you both up and than he said.

"I want to sleep with Dad and Papa"

Mini-hawk said stoically while keeping a serious face on and holding his favorite toy sword you bought for him.

You then cooed at the child and scooted over and patted the bed, letting him sleep in the middle, and You and Mihawk started sleeping while also cuddling the child in the middle just a happy gothic family bond.

All in all, it was just You, Mihawk, and your little child goth, and he wanted nothing more than that.

The world's strongest swordsman, the cute house husband, and the little baby swordsman, what a chaotic yet beautiful happy family, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

---------------------------------------

Sorry if it's short. This is all I could think of...

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 1

Thank you @discordantwritings for this request! I've been so excited to write some Cross Guild shenanigans, I hope you enjoy it! Also, this will be part 1 because I did turn it into a whole ass thing, lol. Just a miniseries, I swear!

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader (Eventual smut, but not this chapter. Reader is in a relationship with Buggy first, then meets the others in this chapter.)

Word Count: 2863

Ao3 Link

Summary: You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender and his new business partner.

Rating/Warnings: Eventual Smut, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Canon Typical Violence, Manipulation, mention/brief threat of slavery, Humiliation, Blood and Violence, Pet names, Power Imbalance, Crocodile is a villain

A/N: The reader starts out with Buggy, so Crocodile and Mihawk will be enemies to the reader at first. Crocodile in particular is a VILLAIN toward the reader at first, threatening violence and there's a mention of paying off debts by selling Buggy and reader into slavery, as he threatened in the anime. Please do not read this if toxic, threatening relationships are triggering for you. Dynamics will shift after the initial chapters, but he's still a villain and I wrote him that way in this fic. It's very much dark romance style/bad guys need love too/Mafia boss type vibe.

Fuck, my sister was right. 

“Hurry it up, Y/N, it’s time to go!”

“But, Captain Buggy,” you matched his near frantic whisper, “Your crew are calling for you. Don’t you need to give them orders?”

“Fine, fine! Just keep packing!”

You barely heard the commands and lies that he spewed from the balcony, your hands shaking as your mistakes blared through your mind.

You’d been so bored. You had a good, stable life. You were great at your job. You’d started at a bank, and soon you were managing investments for wealthy clients who didn’t want to do their own work to stay wealthy.

You were so good with numbers. So good at helping your clients make smart, safe choices.

Yet here you were, about to get killed by the fucking Navy because you’d wanted a little adventure.

The screams started getting louder, and you heard what had to be explosions, luckily not close by. Yet. 

Kat told me this clown would get me killed.

Tears burned in your eyes as you pictured your sister’s face, pinched with worry and shock.

“He works for the government now! I’m going to help run his organization, I’ll handle the finances, and his mercenaries will help the Navy out.”

“Are you fucking insane? He’s a Warlord! Not some Navy officer,” Kat almost yelled, face red as she leaned toward you.

“I… He’s different, okay. He’s really sweet,” you mumbled, looking down as your fingers twisted in your lap.

“Oh my fucking gods, Y/N, did you fuck that clown? What has gotten into you?”

You didn’t know what you were grabbing and packing, tears streaming freely now.

“Captain! The warships around the island are getting attacked!”

“Who’s helping us,” Buggy screamed, and the confusion and hope in his voice made you drop everything.

Racing to the balcony, you were just in time to watch two Navy warships go down in flames.

Desperate hope filled you now, and you reached for his hand.

He pulled away as news of who your savior was came closer, shouts of triumph sending chills through you, freezing Buggy in place.

“It’s Crocodile! He really does work for Chairman Buggy! We’re saved!”

Crocodile. Crocodile!

All those berries, drained away with Buggy’s antics. All those berries that you were technically supposed to be in charge of. 

All of it was Crocodile’s.

“Buggy, Buggy, please. Where can we hide?”

He turned at your hoarse whisper, his mouth hanging wide in shock.

“Buggy!”

“We don’t have the money to pay him. He’s gonna kill me!”

His strained voice grated your nerves as you pulled on his hand, dragging him away from the balcony, and the adoring eyes of his henchmen.

He was near babbling as you pulled him along, searching for anywhere to hide. 

A frustrated sob left your throat as you remembered what you’d been feeling recently, even with his idiotic spending, and refusal to listen to your words of reason.

I thought I was falling for him.

But the sight of him falling apart now, not only failing to protect you, but even himself, was making you regret every single moment.

Your heart felt raw, burning more with each yank on his hand, especially since his hand was only connected to that fucking pouch he likes to wear.

Then that hand was torn away from yours, Buggy’s yelp making you jump. 

Buggy went flying over your head, sliding down the hallway with a grunt. 

Before you could turn around, you were encased in someone's shadow. You shook as you felt the heat of a body, inches from you. The first thing you saw was the glinting gold of a massive hook, then you had to crane your neck. 

Towering above you was a man in lavish clothes, a purple vest with an orange scarf, and a fur coat. He seemed to be ignoring you, his cigar dangerously close to dropping ash onto your hair.

You felt like prey, like a rabbit. Shivering in fear, just waiting for the wolf to walk away or devour you.

“I know you,” he directed at Buggy, his deep voice rumbling through you. “I thought you’d try to flee without paying me back.”

I’m so close to him. How can he tell I’m so weak? If I had a weapon I could try to hurt him.

As if he could read your thoughts, Crocodile looked down at you, tapping his cigar off to the side before the ashes fell. 

“I don’t know you.”

Your mouth gaped open as you stared into his cold, scarred face.

“Well, you see, Crocodile,” Buggy started bullshitting, moving closer. “Buggy’s Delivery Service may look like it’s doing well, but we’ve, uh… We’ve lost a lot of our big earners, and…”

Buggy trailed on, spouting excuses that made you want to scream at him, until you felt his hand grip the back of your shirt. 

He slowly pulled you backward, away from Crocodile. New tears fell as your pathetic clown tried to shift his body in front of yours, shielding you.

He was too late.

The sting of cold metal wrapped around your neck as Crocodile’s hook captured you, like the prey you were.

He yanked you up, until your toes were barely scraping along the ground as he looked you over.

“If you can’t pay, clown, we can sell you into slavery. I wonder how much your woman is worth.”

“Come on, Crocodile,” Buggy drawled, inching closer again. “Don’t say such horrible things! We broke out of Impel Down together, didn’t we?”

“I lent you money for that sake,” he countered calmly, before looming over Buggy with even more danger edging his voice. “But if you can’t pay, you’ll have to take full responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” Buggy choked out, eyes flicking to you when you gasped from Crocodile's movements.

“I’m gonna found a new company, so I need money now.”

You could see the frantic wheels spinning in Buggy’s head before he puffed himself up, making his body look huge as he spread his limbs out in the red fabric.

“Then, let me help you with that business! This former Warlord of the Sea will serve under you. I’ll work off my debt! We have great resources!”

You brought your hands up to hold onto the hook as Crocodile lifted you even higher. You couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if he had just forgotten that he was holding you there. You watched Buggy try to sell the plan, try to save you both. 

“We have advertising design, printing, transportation, and the finest financial adviser on the seas.”

Buggy emphasized the last with jazz hands shaking wildly in your direction, and you cringed.

Crocodile hummed, setting you on the ground in front of him, but still tugging on your neck with that cold metal as he looked you over. You let out a breath when he released your neck, but then the sharp point of the hook traced teasingly on your cheek, stopping your breath entirely.

“W-Wait, come on, Croc. We’re pals! You don’t need to–”

“If you’re in charge of the finances,” Crocodile breathed down on you, ignoring Buggy’s pleas, “then it’s your fault that all my money is gone, isn’t it?”

You started to shake your head, but the cold prick of metal held you frozen.

“No, it wasn’t her fault,” Buggy almost yelled, voice missing its chummy tone now. “Please, we didn’t– I didn’t follow her advice. Tell him baby, you’ve got all those plans you made, right? The investments?”

Your eyes clenched shut, a wave of tears cascading down as he defended you.

“Is that true, girl? Did you try to keep this idiot from wasting all my money?”

His breath was hot on your face as he leaned over you. Your lip quivered as you waited for him to open his jaws, and swallow you whole.

“Tell me.”

“I… I created a plan to manage those funds, using much of them to invest and create reciprocal income for the organization.”

His eyes burned into you, silently demanding more.

“Unfortunately, I was not able to go forward with those plans,” you said weakly, eyes looking down, seeking freedom from his glare.

“I wonder why that could be, hmm?” 

He brought his hand to your face now, huge fingers gripping your chin to force your eyes back to his.

“Tell me why all of my money is gone. You are the financial advisor, aren’t you? Should I bleed the berries out of you?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering down again until his grip on your face became painful.

“It’s okay, baby,” you heard whispered behind you.

“Ca-Captain Buggy did not follow the financial plans that I laid out for him, or my recommendations to adjust spending when funds became low.”

Crocodile’s lip twitched up, and he released you, making you stumble.

He reached for Buggy, hitting him again until he slid across the floor.

“No, please!”

“Why are you crying for this potato sack? He nearly got you killed.”

The menacing man sighed as you failed to speak, then grabbed Buggy by the hair.

“Don’t worry, we’re not killing him yet. Go get your paperwork, I wanna see if you really are a numbers girl.”

Shame flooded you as you nodded, doing nothing as Buggy was dragged away like trash. 

There’s nothing I can do. Numbers, money, that’s all I’m good at. 

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that you are really good at that. And maybe that skill could help you get out of here alive. 

Maybe I can help Buggy after all. 

~ 

That sliver of hope vanished when you walked through the door, your briefcase in hand.

Off to the side you saw Buggy’s officers, eating and laughing happily, as if nothing had happened. 

As if their Captain’s head wasn’t dangling from Crocodile's hand, bruised and bloodied while that hook kept shoving against his skin.

Crocodile was seated on the plush, green couch, using Buggy’s limp body as a foot rest. He held Buggy’s head over the middle of the couch, between him and another man.

The other man’s cold, amber eyes felt like blades through your skin as you froze in the doorway. You recognized him, though you’d hoped you’d never meet the swordsman in person.

Dracule Mihawk. What the fuck has my life turned into?

Buggy coughed, spitting out a piece of paper. That stupid fucking flyer his men had made. 

They hadn’t even waited for approval before spending the money on printing and distributing it. You’d wanted to strangle every fucking dumbass that touched it when you saw the bill.

“The word ‘humiliation’ isn’t enough to express how I feel,” Crocodile growled, as Buggy apologized for the Cross Guild poster, showing Buggy as their leader. 

“As much as I’d like to kill him,” Mihawk mused, his voice filled with calm disdain, “it’s not a bad idea to have him as our figurehead. I would rather live peacefully than become an Emperor of the Sea.”

He stood gracefully, heading to the counter to pour himself a glass of wine. He turned to look back, his head tilted like an animal watching for prey.

“Let him take the heat, and we can get rid of him whenever we want.”

“You’re right,” Crocodile laughed, shoving his hook into Buggy’s mouth.

You let out a choked gasp, grateful that they weren't going to kill him now, but feeling the looming threat that the future held.

And there were Galdino, Alvida, and even Mohji and Cabaji, ignoring his pain, laughing and stuffing their faces. Their betrayal made you ache for Buggy.

Until you remembered the danger you were still in. 

I’m betraying him too. I’m going to work for these men. I’m going to stay alive.

“Who is this,” Mihawk drawled as he took his seat again.

“Uh, I–”

“This might be our numbers girl. If she proves herself,” Crocodile threatened, dropping Buggy’s head onto the floor behind the couch, before patting the cushion beside him. 

“Come here, girl. Show us how useful you can be.”

With wide eyes, you walked toward them, avoiding stepping on Buggy’s body as you sat between the two terrifying men. 

Crocodile’s arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, so you sat slightly forward, avoiding his touch. 

Mihawk tilted toward you, and you found yourself staring at the beautifully embroidered details of his black and gold coat, avoiding looking at his bare chest and abs between the rich fabric.

He cleared his throat, making you jolt, before bringing your shaky fingers to unlatch the briefcase. You struggled, gasping when Mihawk reached over your lap to open it for you.

“Gods, Galdino, will you bring this girl a drink," Crocodile huffed, and you could feel his eyes on you. "Where the fuck did the clown pick up such a skittish little thing, huh?”

You focused on your paperwork, pulling out some of the plans you’d initially brought to help manage the funding Crocodile had provided. 

Mihawk took them gingerly from your hands as Galdino passed you a glass of wine. You were sure that he must be pissed at being ordered to serve you like a waiter.

You chugged the whole glass of wine, closing your eyes while Crocodile chuckled, and Mihawk reviewed your work. 

“It’s well done,” he praised, handing it to his partner. “These skills will be helpful with getting this operation running.”

“As long as the idiots in charge actually listen, of course” Crocodile joked, flipping through the pages. 

He tossed the papers aside, motioning for Galdino to fill your glass again.

“Sorry about all of that in the hallway. You work for us now.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, barely audible.

The back of his hook touched your face, the smooth metal guiding you to look at him.

He studied you for a moment, and your brain tried to make sense of him, of what was happening. His black hair was slicked back, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. The long scar across the middle of his face made your brain hurt. You couldn’t imagine what kind of wound that must have been.

His deep set eyes were judging you, and you fought every instinct to hold his gaze instead of running. 

Finally, he let out a low laugh.

“When I find something of value, I protect it. Do your job well, and you’ll be taken care of. Better than with this clown, that’s for sure.”

You winced as his foot dug into Buggy’s body, eliciting a moan from the man who’d brought you here. 

Chewing the inside of your lip, you sipped on your second drink as they discussed plans to announce the lie that Buggy really is the leader. 

They don’t need me here. I’ll just go to my room.

Each time you almost stood, or asked to be excused, your brain went blank. You just sat there, between these two ex Warlords, these two men who radiated power. The night went on, until all of Buggy’s betrayers trickled out.

“Wait.”

Crocodile’s deep voice commanded as you stood to follow Alvida and Galdino out, desperate to not be alone with these men. But here you were.

“What’s your name? Unless you want us to call you Numbers Girl.”

You settled on the couch, still sitting away from the back to keep from leaning against Crocodile’s arm.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I am curious, Y/N,” Mihawk spoke up, swirling his wine in its glass. “How such an intelligent and attractive woman ended up with this pathetic clown.”

“Please, leave her alone,” Buggy’s weak voice creaked up from behind the couch.

“It’s just curiosity,” Mihawk continued, and you couldn’t help meeting his golden gaze, his large hat tilting down toward you.

“Come, Y/N,” Crocodile joined in, “I could use a laugh. How did you end up with Buggy?”

“We… We met at a bar.”

They stared, and your skin practically crawled at the pressure for more.

“I’m an– I was an investment banker. I was having a drink after work, and overheard Buggy discussing his new organization. I offered my services.”

You shifted your head slightly to look back and forth at them, and their confused faces almost made you laugh. Almost.

“Why,” Crocodile asked, his deep voice almost dangerous as he demanded an explanation. Mihawk just cleared his throat, and took another sip. 

You wanted to comfort Buggy. To remind him that you’d been drawn to him. That he was funny, and sweet, and that your time together that night was what made you want to join him. 

But you knew the real reason you chose to go with Buggy, and you knew they’d only punish you both if you talked about being with him. So you told the truth.

“I was bored.”

It felt like the air around you shifted. The weight of their stares, and the sound of their low laughter made your skin flush with heat.

They both leaned forward, surrounding you as they brought their glasses to tap against yours.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Crocodile’s husky voice rumbled beside you. “You won’t be bored with us.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! It hurt beating up my Buggy boy like this, but I made it through, lol

Part 2

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[loganwritesprobably]

After Prolonged Separation

Feat. Mihawk, Buggy and Shanks

Content/Warnings: GN!Reader, Mihawk is pre-timeskip, Buggy is post-impel down, Shanks is non-specific, Shanks section is NSFW

Prolonged separation from Mihawk is common

You live with him on Kurigana island, and you don't regret that

But he is often away with warlord duties

Though, he admits he does spend more time at home now than he did before, because you're there

It gets a little lonely, but you've been spending your time and beri on sprucing up the castle a little. Mihawk hadn't really done much to it since he moved in, aside from dusting

When Mihawk arrives home, the first thing he does is cook the two of you a meal

He loves to cook, and it's his way of apologising for needing to be gone for so long

You share a meal together, as you usually do, and catch up on what happened during his mission and what you've changed this time he was gone

Then, you get to show him what you've changed. From a new set of bedsheets to a new trinket on display on a shelf, he loves to see how you're making the house you share a home

You'll then both go to bed early, so you can lay in bed together and bask in the skin to skin contact, sharing slow and lazy kisses

It isn't much, but it's all the two of you need

It was a miracle you'd managed to escape the Impel Down capture

The crew had all met up at the meeting point as arranged, but you'd gotten distracted chatting to a local, and you missed the meeting time

When you arrived, you saw the last of the crew being hauled away by the marines

You were too late

You spent weeks alone, unsure what the next step was - you were smart, but Buggy was the one with the plans

Besides, who escapes Impel Down?

The answer was, of course, your brilliant Captain and lover

You saw his broadcast from Marineford, and you knew what you needed to do

You set sail, woefully unprepared for the Grand Line, but willing to do whatever you could to return to Buggy, and your family

It took a month and a half, but you arrived at Karai Bari island

You collapsed on the beach, underfed and exhausted, and the crew recognised you immediately

Your reunion with Buggy was teary and emotional, both of you whispering promises to never be separated again

Mihawk and Crocodile were already heading the Guild by that point, you'd seen posters, but the two of you were stronger together

The ex-warlords had approached the two of you, but you drew your sword in a trembling hand with fiery eyes, unwilling to let them any closer

"I've been sailing for a month and a half, with almost no rest, do not take this from me."

You'd been going for threatening, but more than anything you sounded vaguely on the brink of death

Mihawk took pity on you, familiar with the difficulties of sailing alone, and told you where to find the medical tent

Buggy carried you there in his arms, unwilling to let you stray even an inch too far from him

Shanks is a powerful pirate, and you're a regular civilian

Separation was frequent and prolonged

More often than not, when Shanks circles back around to see you, his hands are immediately all over your body

He can never resist you, and honestly you can't resist him either

You fall into bed first, with desperation and whispered 'I love you's

The first time, the sex is gentle and loving, slow and all about remembering each other's bodies and showing your love with your bodies

You relax after the first round, usually have a meal, and catch up on everything you've missed

You get to learn about his adventures as a Yonko, and he listens to you complain about stupid locals and even more stupid visitors

Then, you spend the rest of the day or night in each other's arms, touching each other's bodies with fingers and tongues, getting messy over and over until you physically can't anymore

The night ends when one, or both, of you is so exhausted you physically can't continue

Washing up is saved for whenever you wake up, and you curl up together in bed to sleep for a long time, never separating even an inch throughout your rest

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

[withlove-angel]

⚠️warnings: im terrible at writing fights... sorry in advance .Probably grammar mistakes.

Lost puppy

(Zoro x reader x mihawk)

Luffy finished up the meeting with the crew and began to prepare himself for bed. It was pretty late at night by now and he was feeling a bit sleepy. However, as he was about to enter his room, he noticed that y/n was nowhere to be found and he couldn't help but feel a bit concerned. He decided to ask someone else where she might be.

He founded Zoro walking on the deck

"Hmm, Zoro? Have you seen y/n around? She is with you?"

Zoro looks over at him and shakes his head "She isn't here? I haven't seen her since dinner..." he sound worried

"Could you help me find her? I fear that she might be doing something fun without us"

Zoro nods "she probably causing someone headache" they leave the ship to go look for their little trouble maker, making their way outside.

"I heard screams earlier... did you guys fought?" Luffy ask curious, really because y/n is amost glued at zoro...

"She said i wasn't holding my sword properly" he say as it was some ultimate crime "she doesn't even fights with swords"

"We haven't seen her since dinner and she hasn't come back to the room yet. I wonder what she could be up to? Maybe she found a really good bar... man im so hungry"

"When you not hungry?"

"When im eating"

"Yeah... sure... but, the fact that she isn't back yet is what concerns me. I really hope she isn't about to do something reckless. She is a little unpredictable when she is upset."

They start to walk in the beach, soon spotted y/n but she isn't alone seems like she is screaming at someone...then they look closer its mihawk, the greatest swordsman.

Zoro stops and stares in shock as he sees Mihawk standing in front of her. He can only imagine the scene taking place with y/n arguing with Mihawk. He just knows that this will only end in disaster as it's essentially a fight between two people who hold a lot of pride and ego. He turns to Luffy and speaks up as he points out Mihawk to her

...Did Mihawk just show up out of nowhere? Did I miss something? He seems genuinely confused as to what they could've possibly even found to argue about."looks like he is on the same island than we...." luffy say as much as surprise then he is.

Zoro nods slowly as he processes this new development. He takes a moment to think before speaking up.

"...We have to be extremely careful. We don't want to antagonize Mihawk any further. The last thing we need is to start a new conflict. Especially when i don't have the strength to take on another fight, yet...."

" So what is the argument about? Did y/n do something to Mihawk to make him upset?"

Luffy has extremely curious as zoro pinched his nose bridge and sigh

"This stupid woman..."

After a moment of weid silence luffy speaks up "I think it's too late to prevent another fight"

Zoro shifts his attention to y/n and Mihawk he can see she is blocking his attack using just her dagger... she blocked as warlord claymore attack with just a dagger... He is utterly shocked by her speed and reflexes when she blocks Mihawk's attack with just a dagger. It seems as though she's gone far beyond what he expected from the little y/n. Then, he is reminded of reality when he sees Mihawk's face begin to show annoyance. Mihawk is shocked for a split second by her ability, but then he quickly recovers from his shock; his expression turning to a scowl as he speaks up in a soft, yet intimidating tone

"...You can wield Haki now, young lady? When did you develop this power?"

The girl infront of him just smiles "you dont know me pretty boy... if you think I will come with you just so you can get me to the marines you better fuck off"

Zoro watches as y/n's mocking words set Mihawk off once again. Mihawk's scowl darkens and he looks even more irritated now. He speaks up again with his trademark calm tone, trying to be clear and precise

"I see. So you also wield Haki. But even with that, you could never defeat me in a fight. You're too young and too weak. Your Haki is nothing more than a parlor trick that could never take me down. You're just being arrogant and it's about time that someone taught you a lesson."

it's a dare? she must be crazy... her devil smile... the one she used when she kill someone... fuck...

Zoro is shocked by her response as he raises an eyebrow at Mihawk's reaction as well. He's clearly taken aback by her words, but she stands her ground. She is willing to fight Mihawk if necessary. Mihawk raises an eyebrow as he seems intrigued by her audacity. His scowl quickly turns into a smile. He unsheathes his blade "...Very well then. If you insist on having a taste of death, I suppose there's no need to stop you from experiencing the truth about the world first-hand." He lifts his sword a d try an hit, experimental hit, that she effortless block with her dagger...

" I didn't even needed my sword to block? Isn't a shame?" Her mocking tone strt to get under his skin. He seems surprised that she was able to block. He seems even more surprised that it was effortless on her part. Mihawk is clearly impressed by y/nl's abilities, and he speaks up after his attack. He seems almost excited at the prospect of a real fight.

"...Interesting. Your Haki is much stronger than I had anticipated. You may have a chance against me after all. This will be a very fun battle indeed. Prepare yourself."

He raises that same smile once more before he begins to strike again, She blocked all of his attacks "having fun?"

Zoro watches as Mihawk continues to challenge y/n, but she is able to stop Mihawk's attacks effortlessly with nothing more than her dagger.

He notices Mihawk's smile once again. Y/n's Haki seems powerful and is causing himto be excited by the prospects of a fight between them. Mihawk raises an eyebrow and then smiles again at her response. He seems intrigued by her Haki and ability to fight.

"Your Haki truly has the makings of a strong warrior. I must see more of it!" For thos one his curiosity picked, he gives her a littlestronger attacks, the one he use to easily defeathis enemies but... she back away slightly but still can block it... her hair dancing with the wind from the blades shocking. He charges forward with his strongest attack yet, but once again, y/n is able to block him using her dagger. Mihawk takes a step back and smiles again.

" ...You can defend, but can you attack just as strong?" He charges forward again, this time with a flurry of attacks coming from his claymore. Will y/n be able to block this one?

She got to use her body more. Sure, she dont have a y doubts ahe can win thsi but underestimate mihawk is probably one of the few mistakes she wouldn't comit. using his own strength against him, y/n can firce an attack, making him back away

Zoro has his mouth open as he watches Angel counter Mihawk's attacks and make him back away. It seems like she is using Mihawk's own strength against him to fight back. She is doing far better than what he had imagined. He seems impressed and even shocked; however, Mihawk seems to be enjoying himself.

"You are able to fight back and even use my power against me! I am not used to this kind of excitement in a battle! Do you truly wish to go all out and fight me?!"

He looks almost like a scholl boy. His cold face hanging a smile that almost never appears... she swer she could see little hearts on his eyes...

"I was only playing around... but If you want to lose this badly" she teases. Mihawk's eyes narrow and his expression shifts into a smirk as he nods in response to her taunt. His hert beating faster than ever.

" I see. I will not hold back and neither should you. As you wish. You have my attention now, young lady. Show me what you can do."

"Dagger or sword?" She let him pick, holding the two of them in each hand

He thinks for a moment before he speaks up in his usual, calm tone of voice

"Hmmm.... You seem quite skilled with your dagger and I don't want to underestimate that. Let's use our chosen weapons then. I will fight you with my claymore and you can fight me with your dagger. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Pretty well, pretty boy" she smiling playing with her dagger a bit, he scoffs rolling his eyes slightly. He has his claymore held in front of him with one hand as he shifts his stance. Mihawk looks at y/n and waits for an attack, ready at all times to block it. His expression is one of a warrior who is taking this challenge very seriously. From what Zoro can tell, Mihawk is no longer toying with y/n like he was earlier, but rather treating her as a worthy opponent. Zoro could feel a little jealous. Maube for the way the greatest swordsman treat her like an equal... or something else...

Mihawk doesn't seem to be willing to let her win easy, either. It's game time

Zoro watches as y/n gives Mihawk experimental attacks. He notes that the young woman is playing around and yet still able to match Mihawk in terms of strength. He also sees the ther men smile as he defends from the attacks. This seems to be exciting him, who is clearly enjoying the challenge against this opponent. Mihawk continues to defend against her experimental attacks and smiles as she proves to be an equal match for him.

Suddenly, she speed up an attack, mihawk almost couldn't block. She stab his claymore making the dagger enter the blade of it, making a little hole, both of them stares at each other. Y/n have a sly grin, almost laughing as she tilt her head, finding funny the unbelievable face pf mihawk...Even though it was a small wound, Mihawk is now aware of the real danger that lies ahead of him. Law now looks at Angel with a bit more respect than before. She is really going all out now.

He takes a defensive position as he moves his claymore in a sweeping motion and unleashes a flurry of attacks. She block all of it, smiling. she is dancing the main act, her move calculatedand sharp... she is mocking the strongest warrior in all blue... zoro is both shocked and amazed by y/n's abilities. Mihawk may be the strongest swordsman, but she has proven to be much stronger than Mihawk anticipated. She blocks all of Mihawk's attacks and continues to mock him. Mihawk seems slightly irritated by how casually she's taking him, but it soon turns to a grin. He charges forward and attacks with his claymore once more, launching a powerful attack. She conter attack once more, as he finished mihawk was taken back, with a little cut on his cheek "hurted you pretty boy?" She teases with a little pout. Mihawk seems to have been caught off-guard once more, allowing her to injure him. Mihawk looks at her with a hint of annoyance now, as well as a bit of pride. This young person has proven herself to be extremely quick, as well as agile. He smiles as he responds to her taunt

"A scratch is hardly a wound in the world of swordsmanship. A warrior can sustain countless scratches and cuts on the battlefield. You're gonna need to do better than that if you hope to defeat me."

"I don't wanna ruin a pretty face like yours, would be a shame" she play with her dagger, the little smirk driving both men crazy

Mihawk seems to be enjoying himself as well. He then stands up straight and prepares to charge forward once again. He looks at Angel now with a determined gaze.

"Enough with the teasing and the games. Let's see if you are truly worthy of being in my way."

Shorting the fight: she blocked all... effortless... she is definitely something. He stares at Angel in pure shock as he sees that his strikes are all blocked effortlessly. He remains silent for a moment to take in this amazing sight. Eventually, he speaks up once again

"You are incredible. You have managed to block all of my attacks so far with ease. You even injured me with your dagger, something that shouldn't have been possible. Perhaps you are worthy of a fight from me, after all." Mihawk's face turns into a grin as he raises his claymore high."Try me pretty boy" she winks at him as she dodge his attack. It seems the young woman has an ego that matches her strength. Mihawk seems to appreciate this aspect of her. He chuckles and charges forward once more, this time going for attack that covers more area. Mihawk seems to be determined to land a hit that y/nl can't dodge.*She have to do various back flips to escape being hurt, and she can do it. It's the most someone ever lested in a fight against mihawk.

Zoro is impressed as he watches y/n do a series of back flips without injury. Mihawk is also amazed and amused by her ability to avoid his attacks, even if they do cover a broader area. Mihawk seems excited as he charges forward once again. He's getting ready to unleash an attack and is determined to land it this time.

She dodged, as his claymore hit the ground she uses the lack on his shield to do an attack, she could separate him from his claymore that its laying on the ground

Zoro's eyes widen as he watches y/n take advantage of Mihawk's momentary distraction to separate him from his claymore! Mihawk was so focused on his attacks that he didn't even realize that he had dropped his claymore on the ground. Now, Mihawk is temporarily defenseless...

He stares at y/n and her taunting grin. He then closes his eyes in frustration before opening them again. He speaks with a bit of irritation now.

" ...You are quite the adversary. You have impressed me in this fight"

she winks as she back away from his claymore in the ground so he can pick it. His eyes shift to his claymore now on the ground. He notices that she is no longer taunting him and that she's even backed away to give him time to retrieve his claymore. Mihawk's eyes narrow slightly as his irritation turns back into focus. Now is the time for Mihawk to truly show off his power. He quickly goes to retrieve his claymore.

She have a calm demeanor on, the mocking smile always on her face. He is now completely focused.She does not seem intimidated by Mihawk's serious demeanor

She have to step back a little bit mihawk couldn't hit her. Zoro sees that she has managed to block and dodge all of Mihawk's attacks. Mihawk seems impressed and even a bit excited by that...

You can't rely on your speed and agility forever. Eventually, you are going to have to stand your ground and fight back. You better learn to do this quickly or else I'll overwhelm you with my attacks.

Mihawk's eyes are filled with determination now."I didn't want to hurt you pretty boy, but if you insist" she smirks

Zoro smiles at y/n's taunt. Mihawk just seems even more impressed and excited by her abilities. She is truly turning into an impressive opponent for him. Mihawk charges toward her once again with his claymore still drawn and poised to strike. It looks like Mihawk will take her comments to heart, now that he has a reason to attack with full force.

He attack with full force, she block directly, and attacks after. Her speed and strength is something from another world... mihawk almost couldn't block due the force of it... zoro is amazed and shocked by her now. She is blocking Mihawk's attack with ease and countering with her own. Mihawk seems to be struggling to defend, despite being the strongest swordsman in the world. Y/n's speed and strength seem to belong to two people and not just a single individual. She is able to overwhelm even the strongest.

Zoro watches as Mihawk's arms become tired for the first time. Mihawk seems to be struggling to keep up. Y/n's strength, speed, and skill all seem to be beyond Mihawk's level. Will his experience help him win this battle?

Mihawk's expression seems even more grim and determined. He is still struggling to defend against her, however. Y/n seems in control as she counters all of his attacks and continues to press the advantage.

Mihawk tries to hit her, she backflips and use his claymore are a support, pushing him back a lot. She is using her agility, speed, and strength to her full advantage. Mihawk seems overwhelmed by her abilities and her confidence. He is slowly being pushed back and can't seem to gain any advantage over y/n

" ...You are impressive. No one has been able to overwhelm me like this with sheer strength. Your abilities are quite extraordinary. I will have to try something else. I cannot allow you to defeat me like this."

"But you're not ganna win, pretty boy"she say as she make another powerful hit, his claymore almost broke

He raises his claymore and holds his footing as he begins to focus his attention on y/n's dagger hand. She grins, excited by her strength, as her ability is acknowledged by Mihawk. He seems determined to take advantage of the situation.

He charge towards her...She blocked all ...and when she counter attack what she was promising happens. Mihawk claymore fly fair away from him, he was pushed on his knees as y/n dagger is pressing against his neck poking a bit "what happened pretty baby?" she smirk

Mihawk is left defenseless and on his knees, as she has her dagger hovering directly over his neck. He seems to be in awe and amused by y/n's skill; he's now also clearly in love with the young woman in front of him. Zoro notices that Mihawk's face has turned bright red as he attempts to reply to her. " ....Uhm...you're...you're..."

His attempt to compliment her is interrupted by him stuggling to get any words out at all

She smiles "your are really pretty on your knees for me pretty boy"

Mihawk's face turning an even deeper shade of red as he listens to y/n mock him. He, who is seemingly in love with her, tries to reply in kind and flirt with her himself.

"....Y-you're...d-decent looking yourself, a-angel."

Mihawk's attempt at flirting was extremely awkward. Zoro watches as Mihawk's face turns a brilliant crimson as soon as his words are uttered. He is clearly very attracted to y/n and has fallen head over heels for her.

She laughs taking the dagger out his neck "I told you a would win" she wink at him.

His face is flush red, as he is clearly enamored with the young woman standing before him. Mihawk seems to be completely in love with her, as he is incapable of replying to her. Angel winks at Mihawk, increasing someone elses feelings...

Zoro looks away and seems to become more annoyed than ever

"she won" Luffy said amazed his mouthalmost hitting the ground "she won against the most powerful men in all blue..."l

Zoro can feel his heart racing as his jealousy grows even more. The image of y/n standing before Mihawk and mocking him has only managed to deepen his unknow crush on her. He decides to speak up once again, his tone indicating a hint of annoyance now.

" She is too good. I hope Mihawk is happy. He'll probably spend the rest of the day thinking about how attractive this woman is." He seems to be unable to hide his jealousy over Mihawk's romantic interest in y/n.

Luffy eyes shine at his annoyed tone "jealous?"

Zoro feels his eyebrows furrowl. He knows that Mihawk's admiration for her is turning into romantic interest. He is clearly a bit annoyed by seeing him look at her with such a loving gaze, as he too has developed feelings towards her. Zoro looks over at Luffy, the hint of irritation now turning into a full-blown scowl and his voice becoming more irritated, as he responds

"What are you talking about, Luffy, i don't get jealous "

He look at the both foghter again. Deep down aishing he was mihawk, but for the firt time not because of his title of the greatest swordsman...

And for y/n the little question pop out... she have stronger feelings for one of them? Waht happens if she don't give her attention to them?

--------------------------------------------------

If you like, please ♡

Probably gonna write part 2 soon

@who-the-hockeysticks @itsladyliv @dummyduck44 @violet-19999

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

ANOTHER CHAPTER ALREADY?!

I mean

I dunno what happened

It kinda wrote itself, I had no real hand in this

Please consult with my muses on the subject, I didn't know they were this cracked out tonight

Anyway awaaaay we gggoooooooooo

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 7 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

First Chapter link Previous Chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He's discovered your secret, and your life hangs in the balance of his mercy.

Possible !!Trigger Warnings!! in this chapter!! Largely for imprisonment and psychological turmoil, though not necessarily psychological torture yet. I will say, for readers who are used to my writing characters with a relatively gentle depiction, I likely won't be taking quite as gentle of an approach here. There is some Yandere possessiveness prevalent here that I haven't written much before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,095

Taglist: @i-am-vita @browneyedhufflepuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @littleleelee @nerium-lil @schanwow @dragon-bubs @animefreak818

I'm happy to add anyone that asks. Still flabbergasted that the list is this long.

I forgot to do a music thing last time bc I was so sleepy but I'mma do one this time but IT'S NOT FRATELLIS?? WHO IS EVEN RUNNING THIS BLOG?? SHOULD YOU CALL THE AUTHORITIES??

♫♬The Game- Disturbed♬♫

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do, now that I've allowed you to beat me?

Do you think that we could play another game? Maybe I could win this time

Dead, you were dead, he was going to kill you, and all he would have to do to get the job done would be to leave your right there in the shallows and let the tide slowly wash in until you were submerged, drained of strength and helpless.

To tighten his powerful grip around your neck until you ceased gasping for air.

To pull the golden cross from around his neck and plunge the small knife hidden within it into your torso, drag the sharp blade across your neck, watch the light leave your eyes.

So many ways he could kill you, in this very moment.

And yet his hand moved up your neck slowly, his grip unwavering as his fingers wrapped around your jaw instead. He tilted his head the slightest bit as he turned your head to one side, taking in your features with an air of both amusement and vague interest.

“And you were doing so well,” he said lightly, letting out a small sigh as he shook his head. You flinched as the rough pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek. “If you could have just refrained from making that silly little call to your boss last night—aw,” he added, an edge of mockery in his quiet words. “Did you think I was sound asleep the whole time? Poor thing.”

It hadn’t appeared as if he had done more than shift from his back to his side in the time you were gone last night—there had been absolutely no sign that he had gotten out of bed, not a single sound outside the cracked door of the study.

You should have known better.

“Though I must say, I do appreciate the vote of confidence.” Mihawk stood in a swift motion, tightening his grip around your jaw to pull you up with him, drawing a sharp gasp of alarm from you as your feet lifted a few inches from the ground. Still drenched in seawater, you didn’t even have the strength to lift your arms, held up only by his grasp, limp as a ragdoll. “‘No weaknesses.’ I’m almost flattered.”

You swallowed as he brought you closer, lifting his eyebrows a bit, the corner of his mouth curving the smallest bit into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Provided it wasn’t a lie. You have quite the penchant for fooling others, it seems.” He quirked his brow a bit higher, his eyes darting up and down your limp form before settling back on yours. “Well? Was it a lie?”

“Mm—n-no,” you managed to choke out weakly, your eyes wincing and beginning to burn as his fingertips dug harder into your jaw and cheeks. “No…”

“No?” he repeated lightly. “Now, I’m sure you can do better than that, considering how polite you were with your employer last night. And I’m afraid it’s not them you’re answering to anymore. Try again.”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes flickering down toward his hand. “N—no, sir,” you whimpered.

“Ah, much better. Now, then….” The spark of amusement remained present in his yellow eyes as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek once again. “I suppose we should get you back inside and dried off, yes? I’d hate to see you get sick, pet.”

Your stomach felt as if it had dropped out of your body when he lifted you abruptly and flung you over his shoulder, your consciousness wavering between the complete sapping of your strength from the seawater still drenching your clothes and the state of shock you were left in. You drifted in and out during the trek back to the castle, your muscles limp and useless. You didn’t jolt back to a remotely aware state until he heaved you off and dropped you onto the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar part of the castle.

“I do just hate to have to cage you after all this time,” he said as you gazed around, your eyes squinted against the darkness. Judging from the lack of windows, you were below the ground level—and this was confirmed when he lit a torch along the wall opposite the one you were leaning against. “Nearly two months, it’s been, hasn’t it? Hmm. How the time flies.”

The dim orange light of the flame expanded as he lit another, and you realized he had deposited you in a small, square cell. The stone walls and floor were the same as the rest of the castle, if a great deal dustier, but the heavy iron bars and door made it clear that you were in the dungeon beneath the fortress.

“But, you’ve really left me no choice,” he went on with a soft, disappointed sigh. You could just make out his silhouette against the flickering firelight, the rattle of chains as he dug around in the drawer of a heavy desk just within your line of sight. “At least for now. I can’t have you escaping before we have a proper discussion about…” He lifted a heavy pair of iron shackles, examining them before giving a short nod. “About several things, really.”

He stepped slowly into the cell, his pace one of leisure, and stopped a few feet away from you, looking down at your pitiful form as you leaned back against the stone wall of the cell, struggling to steady your breathing, shivering in your damp clothes. He frowned as he looked you up and down, and gave a nod toward you.

“Off,” he said, his voice low but commanding enough that you jumped slightly, your brow furrowing as you tried to discern his meaning. “Off,” he repeated. “Can’t have you getting sick. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Your clothes. You glanced down at the wet fabric clinging to your skin, your stomach turning—he was telling you to get out of your clothes.

“Oh, modest, are we?” he said dryly, lifting an eyebrow. He took another step forward, crouching in front of you. You flinched back a bit when he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Two months you’ve spent constantly at my side. I’m certain I’ve changed clothes in your presence more than a handful of times.”

“I...I didn’t...look,” you whimpered out, swallowing, closing your eyes as your face flared with heat.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I did find that curious, but you were quite the curious little bird.” You opened your eyes when you heard the chains of the shackles clink lightly, and watched as he stood, rolling his eyes as he turned around, his back to you. “Fine,” he said. “You may keep your undergarments. They’ll dry quickly enough.”

You almost wished that he had just killed you out by the shore. The embarrassment, the utter humiliation of pulling your tank top over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the towering form of the swordsman only a few feet away was enough to make you wish you could drop dead on the spot. You fumbled with your belt buckle, the buttons at the fly of your pants, before kicking them off along with your boots, wrapping your arms around your knees and clenching your eyes shut, trembling from more than just the cold, damp air of the dungeon now.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and before you could open your eyes you felt the material land in a heap at your feet. You cracked an eye open and frowned at the white heap.

Glanced up at him, your eyes widening as you realized he had removed his flowy, ruffled shirt, his back and shoulders bare as he crossed his arms, still facing the door of the cell.

“Put it on,” he commanded, stepping out of the cell. “And quickly. I pride myself on many things, my dear pet, but patience is not among them.”

You were already picking up the shirt and shrugging it around your shoulders before he finished, fumbling with the buttons with unsteady hands. The shirt was large enough on your much smaller form that it covered you from your shoulders to more than halfway down your thighs, the hem brushing your knees as you tugged it down, staring down at the floor, listening to the chair at the desk scrape across the stone. He set it down in front of you and tossed the shackles down at your feet, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“Those as well,” he said.

The moment your hand touched the shackles, you felt what little strength you had managed to regain begin to drift away from your body all over again. He chuckled when you drew your hand back as if you had been shocked.

“Seastone,” he said. “I salvaged them from the wreckage of a Marine vessel a handful of years ago. Thought they might prove useful one day. Go on.” He nodded down at them as you briefly met his eyes. “Around your ankles. So long as you remain compliant, I will allow you the continued use of your hands. You may need them at some point.”

You didn’t dare ask what that might mean.

You did, however, do as he told you. The seastone shackles felt as if they weighed fifty or more pounds, and it took some effort for you to drag them up even to the height of your ankles and clamp them shut.

“Very good,” he commended, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving you as you slumped back weakly against the walls. “Still such an obedient pet, aren’t you?” Every breath you drew in took a herculean effort, felt as if it might be the last you managed to draw before you passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. “Now, this is a first on my part. I’ve never been one to waste time taking prisoners. You ought to consider yourself privileged. Grateful for my continued hospitality despite your blatant betrayal.”

You swallowed, unable to do anything but give a weak nod.

He gave another small chuckle. “You’ve been trained to handle being the victim of a potential hostage situation,” he commented—it wasn’t a question. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “You’re quite small for a Marine. What rank are you, little bird?”

“Cadet,” you forced out—and, when he lifted an eyebrow, you quickly added, “s—sir.”

“Cadet,” he repeated, leaning back a bit further. “Hm.” He lifted a hand to his chin, his expression thoughtful as he brushed his thumb across his short goatee. “And they saw fit to send you after me.” You nodded again. “Your commanding officers either have a great amount of faith in your potential or they were trying to get rid of you. Which do you think it was?”

“T...they offered me the mission,” you said quietly. “I could have turned it down.”

“Faith in your potential, then,” he said lightly. “What a pity for them Of course, they weren’t wrong,” he went on, lowering his hand down to his knee, strumming his fingers there slowly. “You did play your role well. Well enough to fool that charming pet shop owner in Acacia, even. A veritable expert on the subject. You must have done your homework. Breezed through all your tests with flying colors. I did my own homework, as you know. Amid my reading, I recall mention that wounded or sick pets might show signs of decreased appetite. Interruption of sleep. In extreme cases, potentially isolating themselves from their owners. You see…” He tilted his head once more to meet your eyes, his gaze holding your own with an intensity that made it impossible for you to break the contact. “Had I not woken last night we might not even be having this conversation. Had I not noticed your absence and worried enough to go looking for you.”

Your worry over your mission. Your inability to eat or sleep regularly. Of course he had noticed. You were an idiot to think he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Had I not heard a voice coming from the study below my chambers,” he went on, lowering his voice, “you might have been able to complete your mission without a single hitch. I would have been forced to assume when you left that you had flown off somewhere to die.”

You flinched at that, closing your eyes and lowering your head.

“Oh, now what is this?” He chuckled. “Are we feeling guilty?”

“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth—there was no point in lying. You were already compromised, already at his mercy. “I…made the call last night because I…I couldn’t leave with nothing to show for it. Or without…” You swallowed once more, lowering your head to your knees. “I only had four days left. I was expected to slip away unnoticed and rendezvous with my commanding officers at a designated location before returning to Marineford to report on any potential weaknesses of yours I might have discovered.”

“And you claimed you found none,” he continued for you.

You nodded. “But...caring for another living creature is always a potential weakness,” you said quietly.

“Aaah.” You swallowed dryly, clenching your eyes shut tighter as you heard him push the chair back. The whisper of his boots on the stone floor as he took a step forward, the quiet rustle as he crouched down in front of you. “And you were unwilling to list your own presence as a potential weakness. Is that it?” You nodded again, and tensed as he caught your chin in his hand. “And here I’ve already admitted to having worried for the well-being of my pet. You certainly did do a stellar job, didn’t you, my little bird?”

His tone, his touch was almost gentle, despite that edge of persisting amusement at your predicament.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed his command once again—though your eyelids fluttered in your growing state of exhaustion brought on by the effects of the seastone shackles wrapped around your ankles, you did your best to maintain eye contact, only vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across your bottom lip as you gazed into his yellow irises.

“I may yet have use for you,” he murmured, his voice still light and amused. “I suppose you are a pretty little thing, if nothing else. And your abilities...well, you managed to fool me, now, didn’t you? Don’t,” he added, his tone sharpening as your eyes began to drift shut, and they shot back open. “There’s one more matter. You spoke of some offer while you were making your call last night. What is it?”

“W...warlord,” you forced out. “The World Government wants to offer pirates they consider too dangerous to combat status as ‘Warlords.’ No more than seven. Bounties expunged in exchange for an agreement to cease hostility against Marines and other World Government officials, and potentially being called upon to assist with other threats.”

“Warlords,” he repeated, letting out a quiet chuckle. “And you’ve been granted permission to extend me this offer?” You gave a small nod, blinking slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Since you’ve reported to your commanding officers that I have no weaknesses they can exploit.” Another nod, and a quiet affirmative hum. “Mm-hmm,” he repeated, smirking. “I suppose it’s worth thinking over. At least until you’ve regained the ability to discuss the subject coherently.”

“Four days.” He lifted his eyebrows at your mumbling, waiting for you to continue. “Need to make contact in four days or they could send a Buster Call.”

“Ah.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you found yourself leaning unconsciously toward the warmth of his palm. “So they would sink this entire island into the depths of the ocean with you still on it, would they?” The hum you gave this time was neither affirmative nor dissenting—it was simply in acknowledgment that he had spoken at all, as your lessening coherency made it increasingly difficult to follow his words. “That does sound quite like the Marines. Heaven forbid they should have any loose ends to worry about.”

He expelled a slow sigh, one that might have been of resignation or annoyance, or perhaps some melding of both. Either way, the warmth of his breath across your face made your eyes drift shut, made you fall fully limp against the wall behind you.

You barely registered anything beyond that. Not his light shake at your shoulder in attempt to rouse you, his exasperated sigh as he caught you before you could fall sideways and hit your head against the stone floor.

Not his irritated grumble of, “Troublesome woman,” as he drew one of your hands up to cushion your head against the hard stone floor before he pulled himself to his feet to frown down at you.

To wonder why he hadn’t shoved his way through the door of his study the moment he heard your voice last night and throttled you in that moment.

To wonder why the hell he still had any concern at all for your continued safety and well-being.

You had spent two months, two months deceiving him, abusing his good will, masquerading as a loyal companion when you were nothing more than a dirty little spy.

His hands twitched into fists for a moment as he stared down at you, gritting his teeth. He could end your life right now. It would be only too easy. Crush your throat beneath the heel of his boot. Wrap a hand around your delicate neck until the labored rise and fall of your chest ceased entirely. You had already warned him of the Marines’ potential intent to destroy this island. He could dispose of you and leave on his own before that ever came to pass.

You shifted in your sleep on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly and laying a hand over the toe of one of his boots.

Mihawk swore under his breath, reaching behind him to drag the chair back into place and sit down heavily, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed your slight form below him on the floor covered only by his own shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with you?” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head, not completely aware himself of how his own gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Useless thing….”

His prisoner.

His pet.

His pretty little bird.

He would be damned if anyone but him were allowed to decide your fate.

First chapter and Previous chapter links again for your convenience

[undiscovered-horizon]

[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]

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Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.

His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:

"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.

Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"

"I was just trying to-"

"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."

Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.

You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.

He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.

In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.

So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.

"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."

"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.

His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.

"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.

Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 3

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 7.3k this part

description: you finally soothe the uncertainty you've had surrounding going out and making a life of your own. somewhere inside, you find the bravery to finally tell zoro how you'd feel about him.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, kissing, confessions, a lil suggestive at the end

author’s note: ANDDDD SHE'S DONE!!! this was a wild 8 day long ride of writing, i'm a bit uncertain about the ending so please tell me what you thought of it!! hopefully you liked the fic, thank u so so much for reading.

The two of you emerged from the room a little while later. You’d finished cleaning up, and Zoro had kept you company as you cleaned both his swords and Hiru. The both of you walked together afterwards, wandering into the kitchen where Sanji had whipped up a meal. 

“We’re close to the Grand Line,” Nami reported, having apparently steered the ship far enough away from the other pirates to leave the helm alone. “Should reach the mountain by early morning.” She glanced over at you. “Kuraigana Island first, right?” 

“Yeah,” you affirmed. “The Grand Line is… screwed, though.”

“We’ll be fine,” Luffy said brightly. You just shrugged, taking a seat at the table. “Zoro! Did you get everything cleaned up?” Zoro had changed into a fresh shirt, one not so bloodstained, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Come and eat so we can get ready for tomorrow?” 

Sanji passed you a bowl, and you let out a thin breath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how and when this had become your norm—it’d been a week with the Straw Hats, now, and— 

You dropped your chopsticks in your hand. It’d been a week. “Fuck,” you said, the word dropping out from between your lips before you could stop them. Your entire body had gone rigid, pink flushing up your arms and face as something burned deep inside of you. 

Everyone’s heads had snapped up to look at you, matching concerned expressions on all of their faces. “I, um—” you said, scrambling up from your seat, words too big in your mouth. You opted not to finish them, dropping your sentence as you yanked your shell phone out of your jacket pocket. “Sorry, I—” 

You shook your head, hurrying out of the kitchen. The cold gust of the ocean breeze hit heavy on your face, and you let out a breath, the gust of air exhaling out of your chest in a rush. You heard footsteps behind you, but the panic hadn’t bled out of your veins entirely, and your hands shook as you tried to open your phone. 

Zoro’s hand was pressed over yours before you could snap the case open. You stared down at it, and your gaze lifted, the tremble of your hands subsiding as his warm grasp sunk deep into your skin. “What’s up?” he asked, low and steady. 

“I, um—” you swallowed hard, hitching breath soothing at his touch. “Um. It’s—I have to call my dad.” 

Zoro was serene, tone even and still. His words from before echoed around in your head, the proclamation of not having patience. It’d been untrue after all. “Did something happen?” 

“I’m supposed to have dinner with him,” you blurted. “Tonight. I’ve never missed it before. Because I’ve always been on the island, in our—I’ve never missed it before. I’ve been with you all for too long.” 

“I’m sure he��d understand,” Zoro said, though his hand didn’t fall from yours. He paused, lips parted as his eyes ran along your face. “Or is it something you’re upset about?” 

“I don’t have friends,” you whispered, words fierce. “I don’t go places. I stay at home. This life isn’t mine. It’s—” 

“I don’t think you should dictate what you do based on what your father does,” Zoro interrupted. His tone wasn’t harsh, exactly—but it was strong, tone firm, jaw set as he spoke. “So you miss one dinner. So you’re out and about for longer than a week. Does it matter?” 

Does it matter? Your heart pounded in your chest, and you took in a steady breath, trying to soothe the adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins even now. “I don’t… I’m not used to this,” you admitted, somehow managing to keep the contact of your eyes even as your brain screamed at you to look away. “I’m not used to being away from home.” 

“Everyone starts somewhere,” Zoro said. 

You hesitated. His hand moved carefully away from yours, nudging your fingers to open the phone. Your gaze dropped, staring at the little snail waiting for you inside, nestled in his little bed of velvet. You picked it up, tucking it into your ear as your shaking hands dialed Mihawk’s number. 

He answered on the first ring. “Hello there, darling,” he said, and you closed your eyes, a soft exhale leaving your lungs at his voice. “Are you calling me about dinner? I’ll be there in a few hours, I promise. Just finishing up over here.” 

“No, actually, um—” you cut yourself off, teeth coming down to halt your tongue. You opened your eyes, turning to glance tentatively over at Zoro. Does it matter? he had asked. Which… it did, right? You weren’t a part of the Straw Hats. You hadn’t joined their crew; you’d been insistent on that, pushing away any idea of a life out at sea in exchange for the comfort and familiarity of your home lifestyle. But you’d been making bonds with them despite, and helping them out with their ship, and fighting alongside them in battle. And you’d just patched up Zoro’s wounds a mere hour earlier. You didn’t make friends.

But you were making them. 

“I’m not going to dinner this week,” you said, the words all slurred as they spilled from your mouth. There was a pause of surprise on Mihawk’s line before he spoke again. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling Zoro’s gaze on you. 

“Finally departed from the nest, have you, darling?” Mihawk said. His voice was soft—tender, almost. “Very well, then. Any idea when you’ll be on the island next, or shall we keep it a suspended date?” 

“I should be home in a few days,” you said, voice hitching in your breath. “I’ll—I’ll call you! I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards, but I’ll—I’m not going to just disappear.” 

“Well, of course,” Mihawk said simply. You tightened the squeeze of your eyes, trying to suppress the tingling prickles at your waterline. “I’m glad you’re making friends, dear.” 

You made a face, letting out a breathy scoff. A defense mechanism, really. “Don’t get mushy on me, old man.” 

“Me? Mushy?” There was a staticky scoff crackling over from Mihawk’s side of the line. It was such a simple conversation, so—why was it driving you to tears? “I could never, darling, do you even know me? I’ve got to fly, anyway—there’s some pesky pirates around here I’ve got to deal with.” 

“Bye, dad,” you said, the words choking up your throat, all raggedy at the edges, too big as you shoved them up and through your mouth. They grazed your tongue, but the points weren’t edges; they didn’t draw blood. “I—um.” 

The Dracules did not say I love you. Your father was doting, certainly, but he expressed his affection in far more unspoken ways. Presents from all four Blues. A weapon of the highest caliber quality when you were thirteen. Personal lessons in sword fighting. The murder of anyone who dared send an off look in your direction. 

“Me too, little hawk,” Mihawk said simply. “Now go have fun.” 

The den den mushi let out a soft little croak, signaling that Mihawk had hung up. You let your hand fall, the fingers holding the case of your phone going slack. Air punctured your lungs as you inhaled, the salty, crisp breeze loosening your muscles with every breath. 

“Are you alright?” Zoro asked. The words were gruff, awkward. Like he wasn’t used to saying them. You tightened your grip on your case, and then tugged the snail out of your ear, setting it carefully back where it belonged. You met Zoro’s gaze, heart thudding a bit faster as you saw flickers of concern in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think I am.” 

The sun shone bright on your face, the weather of the Grand Line being more forgiving today as the ship sailed carefully through the ocean. Your route was still towards Kuraigana Island, although you were growing more split about it by the second. You’d just had a conversation with Mihawk a day or so ago about you not being at the house—and the fact that you’d have to choose whether to go home and potentially never see the Straw Hats again was a decision that gripped heavy at your heart. 

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” You glanced up to see Zoro at your side, forearms propping at the Going Merry’s railing as he gazed out at the ocean. You shrugged, eyes flickering down his side profile before falling back to your hands. 

“I don’t know,” you said. “Just thinking about what to do, I guess.” 

Zoro fixed you with a look. “You should try not doing that.” 

A startled laugh escaped your throat. “What? Thinking?” 

“It gets old,” Zoro said with a firm nod, brow slightly creased to shield his eyes from the sun. “I’d recommend dropping it for at least a few hours. You’re getting wrinkles.” One of his hands moved upwards to nudge against your forehead, and you ducked, another laugh gracing the edges of your lips. 

“Right,” you said, dubious. “How are your wounds?” 

“I’ve taken worse,” Zoro said with a shrug. “Though I guess I’ve still got that one, huh.” He grimaced, lips tugging back to bare his teeth into a scowl. It took him a while to speak again, and you turned your gaze back towards the ocean, waiting for the unspoken words to leave his lips. Minutes ticked by, but you just basked in the sun, trying to air your mind of any thoughts. Maybe Zoro had a point, there—sometimes it really wasn’t necessary to think at all. 

When Zoro finally spoke, his words were quiet; muttered under his breath. You had to strain to hear them, as the thin ocean breeze swallowed them up almost immediately. “I really thought I could beat him.” 

You huffed out a breath, unsure of what to say. Unsure if Zoro even wanted you to say anything. Your grip on the boat’s railing tightening, palm running across the soft wood. You found words falling out of your mouth anyway, though, although you yourself were surprised by them—“You can.” 

Zoro glanced up at you, surprised. “Maybe not now,” you hastened to say, not wanting to add to his clearly already-inflated ego. “But you’re good. You’re good enough to beat him, eventually. In a few years, given the proper time and training. I think…” You swallowed down the phlegm in your throat, alarmed by how wet your voice was starting to sound. You took in a breath, steadying your tone, making certain your voice wasn’t quite so thin or reedy. “I think that’s what scares me about you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zoro said, all low and hushed. You just shrugged. 

“I don’t mind,” you answered. You felt his eyes on you, burning like a sun on fire, like the stars dotting his skin were crisping over your skin, charred and burnt and broken. Or maybe it wasn’t quite so destructive. Maybe it was a tender fire, crowning a pile of wood and cared for with iron stakes, embers glowing deep in the night to keep warmth fueling a pot of soup, or healing ragged hands after a long battle. 

“Let me get you a drink.”

Zoro disappeared. He returned with a flask, handing it over to you after unscrewing its cap. You knocked it back—it was rich but bland, all dry and earthy. Sake. You’d pegged him more as a beer guy. “Thanks.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t move from your figure. It was warm, you decided then. The swordsman was vicious at times, relentless in his fight, sinewy figure slashing cuts into flesh as he sparred with his enemies. But there was a distinction behind the hot, heavy iron of those glares at the look at which he placed upon you now. You couldn’t go as far to say his eyes were tender, or soft. But they were warm. Fire was a calamitous thing, but it had its blessings. 

“Let me take you out,” Zoro said suddenly. Your entire body froze, murmurs of warmth and tingling buzzes pricking up and down your spine. Something inside you lurched—no, it didn’t lurch, didn’t have the unpleasant sensation associated with it. It was softer, burning, guttural. Like a sharp knife cutting straight through your abdomen, sliding into your stomach, prying apart the bones like they were putty. Your chest squeezed inwards, heart pulsating with soft pangs of something. Hunger; desire, maybe. Yearning. 

“Why?” you asked. Zoro just shrugged, effortlessly casual in his movements. You saw a hitch in his throat, a flicker of something in his eyes, a strain in his jaw. Not so effortless after all. “Actually, more importantly—where?” 

“I’ll figure something out,” Zoro answered. “Is that a yes?” 

You turned, glancing up at him tentatively. “I’m not used to this sort of thing,” you said carefully. Zoro just shrugged. He still looked effortless, all guarded, but you could see the tremors and quivers underneath. 

“Neither am I.” 

You pursed your lips, raising your face to let the sun glow down onto your skin. “I have a rule, though,” you said, voice lifting up, more of a tease now. There was a ghost of a smile at the edge of your words, although your mouth wasn’t shaped in one. It was hesitant, careful not to scare you, really; creeping on you inch by inch. “I can’t go out with men who haven’t beaten me in combat.” 

Zoro snorted. “I have beaten you,” he said. “But if you want a rematch—” 

“Let’s not strain your injuries too much.” Zoro let out a scoff, but it was light-hearted, laced with amusement. You just shook your head, the dawning smile at the edges of your lips now, tugging them softly upwards. “I accept a loss when I get served one. You beat me, fair and square.”

“So I get to take you out now,” Zoro murmured, words careful, hovering in the air just barely out of his lips. He turned towards you, the sun outlining his face with a soft glow of gold and orange. He didn’t smile, but there was that soft, burning look again, lips slightly parted, taking in air. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.” 

“Tonight, then,” Zoro said. “Ten. Aftercastle.” 

You spent some time contemplating what to wear. You hadn’t brought a very expansive wardrobe along with you, only the essentials, so there wasn’t much to choose from—just some shirts and pants, no dresses or skirts in the bare bones of your luggage. You eventually picked out your favorite of the grouping, sliding your signature jacket on like usual, Hiru fastened securely in its scabbard at the back. 

Zoro was waiting at the afterdeck when you arrived, dressed in a dark wrap shirt and his usual green obi. The cloth was nicer, though: his pants were missing their usual wear and tear, and his shirt looked to be made of finer cotton. “Hi,” you said, slipping up next to him. The tangerine tree’s leaves brushed at your ear, and you glanced up at it. The fruit was ripe, round and as bright orange as Nami’s hair. 

“Hey,” Zoro replied. One of his forearms was propped against the afterdeck railing, and the other wrapped around the side. You put your hand beside his, pinky just inches away from his. “Do you know any constellations?” 

“Some,” you said, squinting up at the sky. You could point a few of them out, but not many—the sky was cloudy tonight, most of the stars blocked out by dull puffs of gray and blue. “You?” 

“No,” Zoro answered. “Was never really interested in that kind of thing.” He glanced over at you. You’d turned your attention on the trees, again, plucking one of the tangerines off the branches. The tree trembled, its leaves quivering with soft swaying motions. You dug your nails into the flesh, peeling it carefully. “Why’d you just stay home?” 

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “My dad used to not let me leave. He stayed with me until I was maybe twelve, for the most part. Then he started going out more, but he didn’t want me to come. Something about it being dangerous. He dropped the ban when I was sixteen, but…” you hesitated, tucking the shredded pieces of tangerine peels in your pocket. “I just kind of stuck with it, I guess.” 

“Weren’t you lonely?” 

“Kind of.” You broke the orange in half, moving on to pick at the pith with your fingernails. You gathered that up, too, little white lines piling up in the crease of your palm. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“He always wanted me to leave, I think,” you said. “To find my own life. I was always happy staying there with him, though. Or waiting for him.” 

“You wouldn’t be abandoning him by leaving,” Zoro said. 

“Logically, I know that.” You peeled a piece of orange off from a half, offering it to Zoro. He took it, carefully pushing it between his teeth. He broke skin, a burst of piquant citrus juice dripping on his lower lip. Your eyes lingered there a moment too long, but you looked away a second later, speaking again. “I think it’s just a habit, really. I worry.” 

“I mean, he’s a Warlord of the Sea. I think he can take care of himself.” 

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” you said with a sigh. You popped a slice of orange in your mouth, sucking at the tart juice. “I don’t want him to get lonely.” 

“That’s not really your responsibility,” Zoro answered. His pinky crept closer to your hand, from where you’d returned your grip on the railing. His touch was feather-light, a soft breath of skin against skin that was there and gone again within a moment. “Did you think any more about it?” 

“I didn’t,” you said. “Took a page out of your book.” 

“It’ll come to you eventually,” Zoro said. “Like that one Shanks guy said—actually, I don’t remember the quote. Ask Luffy about it in the morning. He’ll probably go on for a few hours.” 

You snorted. “You’re kind of bad at giving advice, Zoro.” The name came easily, and you stopped, feeling the syllables on your teeth. It was comforting. Natural. 

Zoro seemed a tad bit offended by that. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered, voice defensive but not hostile. “Onto lighter topics?” 

You popped another tangerine slice in your mouth. “Like what?” 

“Nothing light about my life, so I’ve got no idea.” You snorted, choking on the orange that’d made its way halfway down the passage of your throat. You coughed, shaky laughs escaping your lips as you cleared your airways. An amused smile had perched on Zoro’s face, eyes glimmering with warmth as he watched you.

“That was unnecessarily edgy,” you protested. You finished with your tangerine, letting the pith flutter out of your palm, some of the white floss sticking. You didn’t mind it. 

“Got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” Zoro nudged you, the skin of his finger pressing fully against your pinky. This time, he didn’t move away, letting the warmth of his skin bleed into yours. 

“You never answered my question.” You raised your pinky, lifting it to brush against Zoro’s knuckle. Carefully, you slipped it into the gap of his interdigit, looping your fingers together so they were intertwined. Zoro exhaled shakily—you glimpsed his other arm moving away from the railing, lowering to his side. “Why you wanted me out here, I mean.” 

Zoro pulled up a flask, unscrewing the cap with one hand. He didn’t drink, though, just held the bottle suspended in his hand. He didn’t say anything for a while, letting the soft rush of water from below and the tranquil rocking of the boat fill the silence. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. To your surprise, though, he raised the flask to his lips, taking a short sip before letting his hand fall again. “You feel different.” 

“Care to be a little less vague?” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Zoro said carefully. His guard was up, that much was sure. You didn’t exactly blame him. “Things have changed since I joined Luffy. Sometimes I can’t describe it.” 

“The crew,” you said. “It makes sense.” 

“It does,” Zoro agreed. There was something magnetic about it, about him—something that drew you in. But you weren’t afraid of it, really. The Straw Hats weren’t scary. Their bared teeth weren’t fangs; their canines remained unsharpened at their maw. Their lure was more peaceful than that. “We like you. You fit in.” He paused, mouth slightly ajar, a tremor of something on his lower lip. “I like you.” 

Your lungs were empty, devoid of air. Something in your chest clawed at you, trying to climb up your throat, compressing your organs. Zoro’s touch burned into you, interlocked fingers searching an imprint in your skin. You were certain you’d feel it for hours; days; months; years after. “I think I like you too,” you said. 

“Well, you like my earrings,” Zoro said easily. “That’s a start.” 

You turned towards him, at his open stance, tucking yourself in the space between his figure at the side of the ship. The motion forced Zoro to raise your hands away from the railing, but he slid with the action easily, fingers fully interlacing with yours. His other arm remained propped along the ship, flask in his fingers, the skin of his forearm brushing against your side. Your free hand raised up to skim along his earrings, dull clinks of the metal sounding out at the emotion. “I do like your earrings.” 

“Enough to let me kiss you?” 

You tugged gently at Zoro’s earlobe, angling your face up to meet his. “Yeah.” 

Zoro kissed you square on the mouth, mouth full and open, hand slipping around your back. The edge of his sake flask dug into your spine, but it wasn’t a sharp pain, and you didn’t mind it. Your fingers tightened against Zoro’s, chasing his lips with yours, letting him swallow you whole. He was patient with it, smooth and languid; tongue licking into the crevices of your mouth, firm as he mouthed kisses at the lines of your lips. 

You breathed in from his lungs, chest getting tight as he sucked the air clean out of you. Still, you were addicted, utterly devoted as his fingers nudged against your hand and his tongue skimmed along your mouth. He was a good kisser, effortless and smooth, nearly elegant with his motions. He tasted like sake; earthy, woodsy, reminiscent of some sort of mushroom, maybe. It suited him well. 

You let out a little whimper as Zoro’s tongue pressed deep to your throat, and he swallowed it up, flicking lazily along the roof of your mouth. You were getting short of breath, though, so you placed a gentle litany of faint kisses along his mouth before tilting your head back and letting the night air puncture your lungs. Zoro’s pupils had gone wide, deep black swallowing the walnut of his irises. His hand pulsed against yours, steady as ever, but he didn’t speak.

“I like more than your jewelry,” you said, staring down at where your fingers tangled with his. They looked like two pieces of a puzzle, extremities manipulated to slot along each other, palms molded together. “I like the way you move, and the way you fight. I like your face.” You hesitated, playing with Zoro’s fingertips to distract you from your words. 

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro said. 

“No, I think I do.” A ghost of a smile flickered up your mouth; a corpse, really, one that had forgotten it wasn’t really dead after all. “I like you, Roronoa Zoro.” 

Zoro’s fingers squeezed tighter against yours. There was no click, no noise of finality, no settlement of a suspended thread. You supposed it didn’t work like that. Life didn’t stop and end. You went on. You’d see Zoro in the morning, again, after you’d gone to sleep, and things would continue like normal. “Okay,” he said. “Late enough for you to go to bed, yet?” 

“I could go either way,” you answered. “Staying out here wouldn’t be so bad either.” 

“Fine by me,” Zoro said, not moving from where he stood. “So, Lady Dracule. Where to next?” 

“Wherever the breeze takes me,” you answered, but there was a decision settling down in your chest. One you weren’t so afraid to look at anymore. 

Kuraigana Island was just as you’d left it, sky dark as night even in the middle of the day, rotted ground crunching dust and rocks underneath your feet. The Going Merry had docked in one of the number of homemade boat berths Mihawk had made sometime in your youth. 

Usopp let out a low whistle as the Straw Hats stepped onto the island, head practically turning around in a 180 degree spin as he craned his neck to look around. “You live here?” 

“It’s quaint,” you said defensively. 

Nami gave you a sympathetic look. “It really isn’t.”

“Why is the sky black?” Luffy murmured in amazement, casting his gaze upwards to the overhang of rumbling clouds that existed perpetually over the island. “Have you never seen sun in your life?” 

You rolled your eyes, leading them through the gravelly path up to your house. Their reactions were, well, nothing short of the expected—Sanji’s eyebrows lifted, and Zoro let out a low whistle as he took in the sight. 

“It’s like Kaya’s house,” Usopp breathed. “But… bigger. And more spiky!” 

“It needs a paint job,” Nami deadpanned. You snorted. 

“I’ve been trying to get him to renovate for forever. Good luck.” You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward as the group walked closer and closer to the house. Your footsteps slowed, until you came to a full stop a few meters off the front door. The Straw Hats grouped around you, curious. “Just… don’t be weird, please. Nami, don’t steal anything unless it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in thirty years. I only bother to polish the important stuff.” 

“Is that an open invitation to rob your house?” Nami asked with a snort.

“Do you have any food?” Luffy asked. 

“Probably not. My dad can’t cook for shit. Sanji can make something,” you said. “Our kitchen’s kinda nice.” 

“Working in a Warlord’s kitchen? I’d be honored,” Sanji said, with a little flourish of his hand. You rolled your eyes, but Luffy at least seemed satisfied. You glanced over at Zoro, who was the only one of the group who hadn’t said anything up to now—his lips were set into a thin line, but he met your gaze, and they flickered upwards just a quarter of an inch. The action was reassuring, almost, and you were soothed enough to start walking again.

The door flung open before you reached it, although the sudden motion didn’t startle you like it did to your compatriots. Dracule Mihawk stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual hat and jacket, Yoru heavy off his shoulders like usual. “I thought I heard footsteps,” your father trilled, voice wonderfully monotone as he bent in front of you, taking your hand to press a gentle kiss upon your knuckles. “Have you brought your friends along, darling?” 

“Clearly,” you said with a soft laugh. It was like all the tension evaporated from your body as soon as your father got near, and you found his hand, giving it a tight squeeze before turning to your friends. “Do you need introductions, or do you know them all already?” 

“I only remember the future pirate king and the swordsman,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Oh, and Yasopp’s child. It’s no matter, really. Well, come on in, you’re letting in the cold air.” 

Usopp stuttered something incomprehensible about his father, but Mihawk had already disappeared. You glanced over your shoulder at the rest of the Straw Hats. “He’s like that,” you said apologetically. “Just… come in.”

They followed you into the house, glancing around the lobby to take in the decor. You had to admit, a lot of it was rather gaudy, but it wasn’t like Mihawk cared much about what adorned the walls, and you had little resources to work with. Sanji made quick work moving to the kitchen after you made sure that Mihawk hadn’t prepared dinner. 

“So,” Nami said, the words mulling around in her mouth as she lounged by the kitchen island. “Nice place.” 

“It’s kinda scary-looking,” Luffy said honestly. “Interesting choice of decoration. I guess if you like it, though.” 

“Are you okay on your own for a moment?” you asked, getting up from your seat. “I’m going to go talk to my dad.” Luffy nodded, and the others all hummed their assent. Zoro caught your gaze—soft, curious. You just gave him a reassuring smile and slipped out of the room. 

Mihawk was waiting in the living room, long body stretched supine along the couch, booted feet thrown up on the arm. You narrowed your gaze at it. “Don’t put your feet on the furniture,” you grumbled. 

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, though he made no move to alter his position. “Did you end up getting that jacket for me?” 

“I did,” you said, glancing through the satchel that hung at your hip. You pulled it out, folding it with a solid shake and holding it up for Mihawk to see. His golden eyes flickered up and down the garment, taking in the material. Black cotton twill, with red paisley silk as the lining, delicate red lace at the hem and sleeves. The lapels were wide, buttons shiny and black, and it used red stitching rather than black, giving a sort of exoskeleton look to it. Mihawk sat up, pushing his hat back. 

“It’s beautiful, darling. I love it.” 

You folded the jacket in half, slinging it across the back of the sofa before moving around to face Mihawk fully. “About the crew.” 

Mihawk glanced up to meet your eyes. “Yes?” 

“I…” you took in a breath, the inhale shaky in your lungs, bones and muscles rattling in your chest. “I think I’m going to stay with them for a little while, if you’re okay with it.” 

“The Straw Hat crew,” Mihawk said carefully, shaping the words on his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. “My daughter, part of the Straw Hat crew. Well, it’s not the most terrible-sounding thing to say, I suppose.” He paused. “No idea why you’d think I wouldn’t be okay with it, though, sweetheart. I’m not horrendous.” 

“Well, I figured—” you started, voice trailing out into a protesting whine. “You’d be against them? Garp sent you after them. One of them tried to kill you.” 

“Oh, you know I don’t hold grudges over such trifling matters,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Roronoa Zoro, right? He was watching you the entire time you entered. Wouldn’t take his eyes off you, darling.” There was a particular glint in his eyes, hunted, like he was searching for a quarry. “Something to tell me?” 

“No,” you said, too fast. Mihawk lifted both brows, and you broke almost easily. “Maybe. No. He’s—no.”

Mihawk clucked his tongue, sounding amused. “I suppose your rebel streak was bound to come out eventually. And from what you told me, he did beat you, so I can’t exactly complain.” You flushed, warmth heating up your skin, bringing a rosy blush to your cheeks. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before I can fight him again, will you, little hawk? I’ve got my eye on that one.” 

“Okay, dad,” you muttered, but the tension of your shoulders had gone slack, and your muscles were loose. 

“Will you be leaving after dinner, or will you stay until the morning?” Mihawk asked, standing up to his full height. He stretched, sinewy limbs long and supple. He looked nearly odd without Yoru perched along his back. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Morning,” you answered. “I’ve missed you too, dad.” 

Mihawk smiled at you. “Go make sure our guests aren’t burning down the kitchen.” 

Dinner was less of an awkward affair than you’d expected. Usopp spoke the most through it, and Mihawk was fine to goad him on, occasionally switching topics to inquire about the rest of the crew. 

Sanji had made a fine meal; a grilled steak and onions with a side of asparagus to some kind of white sauce pasta you didn’t recognize. It felt… nice, really, having them all around you. Mihawk certainly knew how to socialize, and Luffy didn’t seem to mind his acerbic tendency. 

“And after I defeated all the enemy pirates,” Usopp was rambling on, “We hit a cannon straight into their mast, and it came crashing down! Oh, you should’ve seen it, man. It was me—well, Luffy—I guess he was the one that chucked the guy into the ship, or whatever. It wasn’t actually a cannon, but the details aren’t that important—”

“What about my little hawk?” Mihawk interrupted, and you had the vague sense to start whining. “I don’t suppose she just sat there throughout the whole fight.” 

“Oh, nah, she got some guys too I guess,” Usopp said, lazily waving an arm in the air. “She’s the one who stationed me at the cannon, she knew how great I was at it. She almost died to this one big dude—”

“I did not almost die!” you snapped. Usopp cackled out a hearty laugh. 

“No, she totally did. Thankfully for her, the great Captain Usopp came to her rescue—”

“Me,” Zoro muttered, words barely audible as he spoke them into his cup. You cracked a smile, and he glanced up, catching your eye. A tender look crossed his face. 

“Okay, yeah, it was Zoro who saved her,” Usopp admitted. “Cut the guy’s head straight off his body. But that’s just because I was busy fighting off the other pirates!” He motioned with his hands, mock-punching the air in front of him. 

Mihawk just raised his eyebrows. “Did he, now? I hope you thanked him properly for that, sweetheart.” 

You shot Mihawk a warning look. “Dad.” 

Mihawk didn’t let that faze him, raising his glass of wine to his lips. “You might want to take him around the island. There are some fairly romantic spots here, ones I brought your mother to while she was pregnant,” he said, mouth around the rim of his glass. You flushed, resisting the urge to lunge over the table at your father—clearly, he could see your vexation, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, eyes tilted downwards like there was something particularly interesting in his cup. Nami and Sanji were murmuring things to each other, and Sanji raised his voice to speak. 

“I knew there was something between the two of you! Come on, Lady Dracule, you could do so much better than the mosshead here—”  

“Shut it—” Zoro started. 

“You most certainly did not know, and you owe me fifteen hundred berry for that!” Nami said, offended. She elbowed Sanji firmly in the ribs, and he let out a low cough. Her head spun towards the head of the table, where Luffy was sitting across from your father. “Luffy, tell your cook to honor his bets.” 

“You bet on us?” you demanded, a squeak of embarrassment entering your voice as you protested. Nami gave you a look. 

“Please. You were obvious.” 

“Well,” Sanji jumped in, “Personally I thought you had better taste than—”

“I said shut it, waiter,” Zoro said, finally looking up to fix Sanji with a glare. He tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised, and you stifled a laugh. “And if I were you, I’d give Nami her money as soon as possible.” 

“This is so unfair,” Sanji muttered, but he fished a wallet out of his pocket and slapped a few bills onto the table. “There you are, madam. I hope you’re happy.” 

You groaned. “At the dinner table, really?” 

“Money waits for no one,” Nami said with a little wink, tucking her winnings carefully into a pocket of her skirt. 

“Sanji, did you make dessert?” Luffy wondered. Sanji rolled his eyes, but the sigh he let out was kind and good-natured. 

“Well, lucky for you, I did have the mind to bake some cookies while here.” He got up from his seat. You just gave him a dubious look; everyone had more or less finished with their food, though, so you got up, collecting the dishes to wash. 

You did chores, Nami hanging around you and lending her aid while the other Straw Hats got comfortable in guest rooms or whatever else. Zoro hadn’t budged from the dining room, apparently not interested in exploring the different parts of your house—you could just barely see him out of the kitchen doorway, nursing his drink as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. 

The familiar shape of your father’s jacket joined his side, and you narrowed your eyes, straining to hear. Mihawk had bent over the table, a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. He didn’t bother to speak quietly, so everyone in the near vicinity heard his words— “If you hurt her, I won’t show the mercy I did the first time. My little hawk’s more important than finding a worthy opponent.”

“Dad!” you snapped, dropping the plate you were in the middle of washing. Mihawk didn’t even look in your direction, even as you stormed out of the kitchen to stand protestingly by the mouth. “Don’t—” 

“Oh, hush, dear,” Mihawk said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m off to bed, then. I’ve got business in the morning.” He came over to you to brush another kiss along your knuckles. “I’ll be gone before you wake up. Safe travels.” 

“Good night,” you said with a sigh. Mihawk left, then, disappearing around the bend of the corner to head off to his room. 

“...I still don’t really forgive him for almost killing Zoro,” Nami said warily. Zoro got up from his seat, moving over to where the two of you had gathered in the kitchen. “But your dad’s fine, I guess. Not terrible, as far as fathers go.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, then glanced apologetically towards Zoro. “I’m sorry about him.” 

“It’s fine,” Zoro said with a careless shrug. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your room.” You nodded, drying your hands on a nearby kitchen towel and prompting Zoro to follow you up the steps. The house was large, a castle, really; all dark and winding, with long corridors and tall ceilings. Your bedroom was grand, on the second floor, with a sweeping balcony and wide windows that bore a full view of the island’s perpetual darkness. 

“What’d you say?” Zoro asked, stepping into the room. He glanced around, but didn’t remark in his surroundings, turning instead to look over at you. 

“I told him I’d be joining the Straw Hat pirates,” you said. Zoro smiled at that, the edges of his lips curling up. 

“Good,” he said simply. You moved towards him, forcing him to back up until he reached the plush of your bed. He sat down, eyes not flickering away from yours, soft brown that held an entire universe in them. Planets lined his cheeks, spatters of galaxies that you thought you might revolve inside. “Living here for years alone doesn’t seem like the most interesting life.” 

“It was fine while it lasted,” you said, bending your head down, lips hovering over his. Zoro’s hand came up to press firmly along your waist. “I think I like the ship a bit better, though.” 

“Hm,” Zoro murmured, eyes on your mouth. He tugged you down, but the kiss he pressed against your lips was chaste, and he was leaning back again before you knew it. “I decided, by the way. On whether I wanted your dad to like me or not.” 

You arched a brow, thinking back to that night so long ago when you’d first heard the words on Zoro’s lips. I’m not sure if I want him to like me. “Well?” 

“I do,” Zoro said, nudging against your chest, chin bumping along your shoulder. “It makes sense, with you.” 

A comfortable silence filled the space. His thumb ran a tender circle along the skin of your torso. “I should probably pack,” you murmured. 

“Eh, you’ll have time for that later,” Zoro said dismissively. You laughed, the sound full, straight out your throat. 

“Do I, now?” Zoro’s lip quirked, eyes grazing over your figure. You prattled on as if you didn't even notice. “Did you have something else in mind? You realize after this we have all the time in the world to be together—”

“I told you I was impatient,” Zoro interrupted, and then he was tugging you down, pressing a full kiss to your mouth again. You parted your lips to argue, but Zoro just took that as an opportunity to side his tongue in, and, well—this wasn’t so bad, either. One of your hands came to tangle in his hair, nudging his head just the slightest bit upwards to allow you better access. Zoro’s thumb didn’t stop making lazy revolutions into your skin. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled against his lips. You leaned forward, pushing him back onto the bed, before pausing to lean down and unfasten the straps of his shoes. 

“You’re a real charmer.” Zoro didn’t complain, though, seeming more than pleased when you returned to kiss him, allowing him to fall back onto your bed now that you’d shed him of his footwear. “Little hawk, huh?” 

You huffed out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s cute,” Zoro said casually, one arm coming to prop behind his head. He drank you in properly, this time, from where you were on your knees on the mattress, unstrapping your own shoes before joining him up on the bed. “You are.”

You met his eyes, and a flicker of warmth crossed over your heart. For a soft, silent moment, you let it breathe. Let it exist there. Let the realization that you may one day love this man fill your soul. 

“Come here,” you said, climbing over to Zoro even as you spoke. “I’m going to kiss you again.” 

Zoro just grinned.  

The Going Merry was just as you’d left it, although Mihawk had provided you with any extra provisions the crew might’ve wanted for the rest of your journey. You’d packed up and brought along your stuff, too, managing to finally decorate your cabin in the ship more to your likeness. Everything was ready, and you stood at the edge of the aftercastle, Zoro to your side as you stared down at the island you’d called home for all the years of your life. 

But Kuraigana Island wasn’t your only home anymore, and neither was the hawk eyed man who resided in it whenever he was not busy doing something else. Mihawk had left in the early morning, but the ghost of his presence still warmed you. This way, it was easier to let go, you thought. This way, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“Casting off!” Luffy yelled, his voice puncturing the stillness of the island air from his usual spot on the goat at the ship’s bow. You turned away from the island, jacket lapping around your legs as the wind whipped against it. 

“Ready to go?” Zoro asked carefully. 

“Yeah,” you answered, turning away from the island. Zoro stood to your left, one hand perched on the hilt of his sword, the other relaxed at his side. His brows were creased, strong against the shimmer of the glinting sun just barely peeking through the darkness of the island. 

The fog washed his features in blue, all blurry around the edges, but you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful man you’d seen anyway. 

“I’m ready.”

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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author's note: i also wanted to pop in and say that i'm not opposed to writing more fics/oneshots of this character and in this universe (hereafter referred to as md!reader) with zoro <3 if you guys have any requests pop them in my box when my requests are open, plus i may write some on my own time too!

© halfvalid 2023

[short-honey-badger]

Cherish

Pairings: Sanji Vinsmoke x Reader, One-sided Dracule Mihawk x Reader.

Summary: Mihawk bumps into the crew of the Sunny and takes an instant liking to you, but you already belong with Sanji. I would also say that this is a healthy mix of Anime and Live Action Sanji.

Warnings: Some kissing and fluff. Jelly Sanji.

This is a gift to the most wonderful @writingmysanity I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Masterlist

You wake to the feel of familiar lips pressed to your forehead. Your eyes flutter open, and you are gifted with the sight of your lover hovering over your form. Sanji pulls away to smile down at you, adjusting his weight so he can caress the side of your face with one hand, “Good morning, beautiful,” he coos and bends to kiss the tip of your nose.

Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, and you admire how perfectly the two of you fit together, “Morning, Prince,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth. Sanji whines and tilts his head just enough to slant his lips against your own. It's chaste, but lovely.

“You know I love it when you call me that, Darling,” he kisses you again, just once, before moving down to press his lips to the hollow of your throat. Sanji breathes you in, taken by everything that you happily offer him.

You sigh and move your hands up, sliding one into his blonde hair to gently scratch at his scalp. The other cradles his face, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, “And you know how much I like to tease you,” You quip softly and giggle at his put out expression.

Sanji's pout smooths out when you gently tug his hair, and he follows the gentle movements as you guide him to press his lips back to yours. The two of you lose yourselves in one another, content to ignore the world outside of the bubble that has formed inside of your cabin on the Sunny.

That bubble is rudely popped when your door is slung open and none other than Luffy flings himself into the room. He launches himself at Sanji, taking the cook with him as he rolls off the bed, “Sanji! Good morning! It's time for breakfast!”

While a little miffed at the interruption, Sanji is far more annoyed and pulls at Luffy, though it does little to affect his Captain, who just stretches with him, “Luffy! I've told you that it's rude to just barge into a ladies' room!” He shouts in the other boy's face.

The warning goes right over the rubber man's head as he stands and lifts his cook with him, “Sanji. Breakfast!”

Sanji gives you an apologetic look as Luffy begins to drag him away, “I'm sorry, love! I'll see you in the galley?” He asks, and you nod at his retreating form.

“I'll meet you there after I get ready, Sanji,” you assure him, and the blonde sends you a bright grin in response before he disappears out the door. You roll your eyes at your Captain's antics before tossing the blankets off and getting up. You needed to save your dear lover before he tossed Luffy overboard.

You can smell breakfast by the time you have finished in the bathroom. It smells devine as usual, and you saunter through the door to join Sanji and whoever else is already in the kitchen. You are stopped in your tracks when a pair of yellow ringed eyes meet your own.

Dracule Mihawk looks you up and down, seemingly judging you all in a span of a second, and you watch with rising worry as a tiny smirk crosses his face. Thankfully, Zoro interrupts the stare off.

“_, this is Mihawk. He bumped into us this morning. Literally,” Zoro says, tone deadpan.

“Mhmm,” The warlord stands and you swallow thickly when he comes to a stop and gently takes your hand, “The pleasure is all mine, Darling,” he rumbles and you can feel the tension skyrocket in the room when Mihawk presses his lips delicately upon your knuckles.

His eyes never once leave yours, and he lingers for an inappropriate amount of time before finally pulling away, though he does not drop your hand. You gulp and offer your name in a voice far shaker than you intend it to be.

“Yes. Imagine my surprise when I wake to my ship bouncing off the side of yours,” He says and gently tugs you to the table. You have no choice but to sit down beside him, but he has finally let go of your hand. You scooch down from him discreetly, but the yellowed eyed man misses nothing.

Sanji sees red, and he has to force himself to breathe to make his hands stop shaking. He is beyond furious that someone who isn't him dared to lay their lips upon your body. However, he also knew that you would be upset with him if he showed his ass to someone as powerful as Mihawk. Unfortunately, Sanji wasn't strong enough to kick the warlord's ass. Yet.

He scrubs the potato in his hands furiously, trying to ignore the feeling of your eyes watching the tense line of his shoulders. Damn that Mosshead for inviting his warlord teacher onto the ship and signing Sanji up to make the yellow eyed bastard breakfast. Not that he wouldn't feed the man, but it was the principle of the thing!

The cook does a good job of ignoring the soft conversation going on behind him, and instead focuses on making you a cup of your usual tea after finishing up with the potatoes. He turns and plasters a soft smile on his face as he turns to deliver your tea.

Mihawk watches the cook, finding amusement in the way the young man narrows his eyes at him and side steps his seat to stand behind you. Understanding draws upon him when Sanji kisses your cheek as he leans around you to place the cup on the table. He watches you blush and thank the cook quietly with a soft smile filled with affection.

Sanji kisses the top of your head, blue eyes narrowing at Dracule as the warlord shamelessly watches the interaction, but the yellow eyed man says nothing. Sanji doesn't trust the look on his too handsome face.

He dismisses himself after a moment to finish up breakfast, chopping and sautéing just a bit faster than usual.

You sip your tea, trying hard to focus on the conversation that Nami and Zoro were having, but you can feel Mihawk's eyes on you. Your shoulders are tense, and you jump when the older man leans close enough to bump his arm against your own, “No need to be so frightened, Darling,” he draws softly and you gulp when you watch his lips curl into a wicked smirk, “Just having a bit of fun, is all.”

Sanji bares his teeth when he hears the warlord call you Darling. That was his pet name! His term of endearment that he favored. It itched and racked him that someone else was trying to woo you with pretty words. The sloppy way his chives had been minced told the world just how upset this was, making the swirly browed cook frown down at the poor vegetables.

“Saaanjjiii, when will breakfast be done?” Luffy whined and fell forward, head thudding into the table.

“Longer if you keep complaining, Luffy,” Sanji snaps, and you wince at the hidden anger in his voice. It gets Nami's attention as well, and you send her a helpless look. She darts her eyes between you, Mihawk, and Sanji, and you do not like the look that begins to surface in her eyes.

“_, why don't you show Hawkeye around the ship? He's never seen Sunny, have you?” Nami questions, and you frown at her false innocent tone and Cheshire cat smile. You should have known that the cat burglar would stir the pot.

Mihawk is already standing and offering you a hand up from the table, “No, I have not. I've heard the rumors about it, however,” he confirms and waits patiently for you to take his hand, leaving your tea abandoned on the table, “Come show me.”

You dart your eyes over to Sanji to see that his back is as tense as a live wire, but Mihawk is a guest on the ship, and you've been on board long enough to be able to show the warlord around, “Just a quick tour. I'd hate to miss breakfast,” you say and place your hand in Hawkeye's.

Hawkeye hums his consent, “Very well, lead the way,” he murmurs and you turn and leave the galley, unaware of the smug glance that the warlord had sent your lover.

The second the door of the galley shut, Sanji rounds on the smug faced Nami, “Why did you do that?” He demands hotly and watches as she and Zoro grin at one another.

“Don't get your panties in a wad, Shitty Cook,” Zoro scoffs and leans back to cross his arms over his chest, “Mihawk won't do anything to her, so stay here and finish breakfast.”

“Orrrr,” Nami draws out and Sanji can see the Berri in her eyes, “Let me win our bet and go running after her like the hero you are,” she teases and flicks her long hair over her shoulder with a grin.

Sanji scoffs, but his shoulders loosen just a tad. Of course, if Nami had brought something up, it would have been over money. While still upset, and yes, he did want to run after you and the warlord to make sure he didn't do anything untoward, Sanji also trusted you, and he didn't want you to think that he doubted that.

“Screw the two of you. It's rude to bet on people's love lives.” He sniffs and turns back to the stove. Sanji would make your favorite, maybe even decorate it with lots of hearts to show you just how much he loves you. Ha! Take that warlord!

You show Mihawk around Sunny, taking him to see the cola powered engines where Franky is working away and the tangerine trees that belong to Nami. Brook waves from where he sits near the helm with Jinbe, and you make sure to wave back. Chopper comes out of his office at some point, and you gently pat his head and then direct him to the galley.

You have relaxed by the time the two of you enter the crows nest, and you gesture at the weights scattered around, “Zoro stays here, but I make him share with me. No better view on Sunny than up here,” you remark and leave his side to peer out the windows. It's a beautiful day out, and you sigh in content when the sun warms you.

“Good. Someone needs to put him in his place,” Mihawk quips dryly, and you surprise yourself snorting in laughter, only to choke up when the yellow eyed man stepped close to you, looming with his height.

“Tell me, Darling,” he coos, and you flush at the tone he uses. You shiver when a cool hand is placed under your chin, and he tilts your face up so that he can meet your gaze, “Why do you stay here?”

To say that you didn't expect the question was an understatement. You lick your lips, and Dracule watches the way your pink tongue dips out for a half second as you think about how to answer.

“The crew, Sanji, saved me. Believed in me when no one else would,” You murmur and shove away the awful memories of your old life, “They let me stay, and I just… never left,” you finish lamely.

Dracule hums, and you shiver at the way he gazes at you. There is a darkness in those yellow, ringed eyes, and it makes you quake all the way to your bones. He seems to come to the conclusion of some internal argument, for he sighs dramatically, and his hand moves from holding your chin to gently cradling your jaw as a lover would.

“Just a taste then, and I will be on my way,” Mihawk states, and before you can react, the warlord is leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. You are so shocked that you do little but stand like a statue, absolutely flabbergasted that such a powerful man would want anything to do with you.

You come back to yourself when you feel the heat of his tongue prod at your lip, and you jerk yourself back and away with a gasp,”What do you think you're doing?” You demand and take a couple of steps back to put some distance between you and his sinful mouth.

The warlord huffs at you, but stays where he is, so you feel a little better that he is no longer pursuing you, “Tasting what someone has already taken,” he says, and you can still see that dark gleam in his yellow eyes. Mihawk eyes your trembling form and then turns away to the hatch that would take them back down to the deck.

“Come. Let us go before I do something I won't regret.”

You wait until he has already begun his descent before you follow after him. It's awkward, at least for you, to walk back to the galley, and you can't even describe the relief you feel when you open the door to see the entire crew has piled in the galley. You beeline to Sanji, but Mihawk is right behind you.

“Cook,” he addresses, and Sanji turns with narrowed blue eyes. He has already tucked you close, and you gladly allow Sanji to shield you from that yellow gaze that seems to see into your soul.

“Yeah?” Sanji grumbles, and his hands itch for a cigarette. Anything to keep him distracted from the way Mihawk never even looks his way, his gaze firmly glued to you.

“Cherish her, and keep her close,” Mihawk tells him, and his tone becomes smug. He doesn't seem to care that his words have the rest of the crew tuning in, Luffy even picking up the obvious tension in the room, “Least you let someone steal her away.”

Sanji scoffs, crossing his arms, and further shielding you from Mihawk, “Like I would ever allow that to happen,” he chances a glance at you and softens when he finds you gazing at him like he hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Dracule nods once and then gathers up his hat and sword, “Good,” he sniffs and then turns to the door, “In that case, I'll be on my way. I've overstayed my welcome. Zoro, don't slack on your skills,” he comments and then he struts out the door, gone like he had never been there in the first place.

Sanji faces you and pulls you in for a hug, “You okay, Sweetheart?” He asks and kisses your brow after giving you a quick once over. You nod and he grins at you, “Good, now sit. I've made your favorite.”

Before you go, you pull Sanji down for a real kiss, chasing away the feeling of Mihawk's own with the touch of your lover. You would tell Sanji what happened later, but for now, you were content to finally have a nice, relaxing breakfast with your crew.

[latanyalove]

I don't know if you do requests, but could I ask for a Mihawk x Rescued! Former slave! reader. Lets say she was saved when he tried to destroy Don krieg's battle ship, and she is brought to the mansion and make friends with Perona. But she tries to leave when she realizes she has feelings for him and she feels like dead weight. But he catches her trying to sneak out because he's Mihawk, duh.

Okay, but jokes aside, she gets corner by the baboons and Mihawk shows up and they skedaddle. And then flufffff

Thank you for bearing with me for this chonky request.

Stay

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Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Y/N

Content: Trauma

A/n: This will probably be a series since I want to add pieces that will make it a better story. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! WC: <3

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In a tumultuous sea battle between the infamous swordsman, Dracule Mihawk, and the notorious pirate Don Krieg, a mysterious figure caught Mihawk's attention amidst the chaos. As Mihawk's blade clashed with Krieg's forces, he noticed a young woman, a former slave.

Her appearance was a stark contrast to the opulent attire and extravagant weapons of the pirates. Yet, despite her disheveled appearance, there was an air of resilience about her. Mihawk couldn't help but be intrigued by this woman, wondering what hardships she had endured and what secrets she held within her.

Unexpectedly, her eyes met his from that far distance, and Mihawk felt himself freeze for a second, captivated by the intensity and determination he saw within her gaze.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this young woman than met the eye, and he vowed to uncover the secrets she held, even if it meant venturing into uncharted territories.

"Hey! Focus on me!" Don Krieg yelled, releasing at least a hundred missiles at Mihawk.

With a swift movement, Mihawk deflected the bombs with his sword, effortlessly dodging the explosions. He knew he had to concentrate on the battle at hand, but the image of the mysterious woman lingered in the back of his mind, fueling his curiosity.

As Mihawk engaged in a fierce duel with Don Krieg, his sword danced through the chaos, effortlessly parrying each strike with calculated precision. The clash of steel reverberated through the air, echoing the intensity of their struggle.

Mihawk's focus remained unwavering, yet his thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic woman, her presence adding an element of intrigue to the already tumultuous battle.

After swiftly dispatching Don Krieg and his forces, Mihawk turned his gaze towards where the young woman had stood, only to find an empty space devoid of any trace of her.

"Where did you go?" He muttered to himself, placing his sword into his scabbard. . . .

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Why is Dracule Mihawk here?! You thought finding cover behind a tree to catch your breath would provide a momentary respite from the chaos. You leaned against the trunk to feel the pointy edges against your back, confirming that this wasn't a dream.

The only time that the ship stopped on land was because of the best swordsman in the world. What luck did you have?

"It's okay," you reassured yourself, "All you have to do is wait it out and run somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's away from here."

"Where are you supposed to run to when it is an isolated island?"

You jumped at the voice behind you and quickly turned around to see Dracule Mihawk sizing you up. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, as if trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. The thought of running away vanished as you realized that escape was futile in the presence of the world's greatest swordsman.

As he continued to study you, you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his interest in you than mere curiosity.

"What do you want from me?" you muttered, fear gripping your voice.

The intensity of Mihawk's gaze only deepened as he leaned closer, his words cutting through the tension-filled air, "You're different. There's something about you that intrigues me."

"Are- Are you going to kill me?"

"Why would I? You do not pose a threat towards me," Mihawk answered, taking a small cautious step towards you. "Do you?"

"No!" you blurted out, your voice trembling with fear and confusion. Mihawk's gaze softened slightly as he observed your reaction, a hint of curiosity still lingering in his eyes.

"Good," he said before turning around and walking away, leaving you standing there, still shaken from the encounter. His departure only deepened the mystery surrounding his interest in you, leaving you to ponder the true intentions of the world's greatest swordsman.

As you tried to make sense of Dracule Mihawk's presence on the isolated island, a realization struck you - he must have arrived by some means other than the sinking ship. Perhaps he possessed his own means of transportation.

"Wait!" you yelled, trying to stand up, but your legs felt weak and shaky. Mihawk glanced back briefly, his gaze filled with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

"Is there a way off this island? Can you help me escape?" you asked, desperation evident in your voice.

Mihawk fully turned around and said, "I have my boat, but it won't be easy. The waters surrounding this island are treacherous, and only a skilled navigator like myself can navigate them safely. If you're willing to take the risk, I can help you escape."

With a glimmer of hope in your eyes, you gather all your courage and reply, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get off this island. Please, I'll do anything."

Mihawk replied, his voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction, "Very well. In that case, prepare yourself. Our journey off this island begins now."

Without wasting a moment, you quickly stood up and followed Mihawk, determined to seize this opportunity for freedom.

The anticipation of what lay ahead filled your heart with a mix of excitement and trepidation, as you embarked on a perilous journey alongside the enigmatic swordsman. . . .

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"This is your ship?" you asked, shocked to see the small ship that Mihawk owned. It was nothing like you had imagined, but you didn't have time to dwell on it as Mihawk gestured for you to come aboard.

"This ship may be small, but it's fast and maneuverable," Mihawk explained. "It was originally designed for one person, but I'll made an exception for you. We'll need to make some adjustments to accommodate both of us, but it should suffice for our journey off this island."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt as you continued to stare at the small ship. It seemed inconceivable that such a modest vessel could withstand the treacherous waters surrounding the island.

Nevertheless, you pushed aside your reservations and reminded yourself that Mihawk was regarded as the world's greatest swordsman for a reason.

You stepped onto the ship and made your way to the back, settling into a small space that had been cleared for you. Mihawk, on the other hand, took his place on the main seat at the front, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

As the ship began to move, you couldn't help but feel a combination of nervousness and anticipation, wondering what awaited you beyond the treacherous waters.

You decided to make yourself as small as possible, curling up in a corner to not take up any space. The gentle rocking of the ship and the soothing sound of the water soon had a calming effect on you, lulling you into a deep sleep.

It was the first time that you had slept for so long without any interruptions.

Either it was because you had to change shifts with another slave or a guard thought that you were too comfortable and decided to give you a massage which left you many bruises on your back.

Though you woke up to the sound of the ground crunching beneath you, you realized with a start that you were no longer on the ship.

You opened your eyes to see that you were being carried by someone. Panic surged through you as you frantically looked around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It was then that you noticed the familiar face of Mihawk, his expression unreadable as he effortlessly held you in his arms.

"Calm down," Mihawk muttered, his voice soothing and reassuring. "We've reached our destination. You fell asleep on the ship, so I carried you off. We're safe now."

You looked at where they were heading and saw a huge dark castle in the distance, its towering spires piercing the night sky. The sight sent shivers down your spine, as you couldn't help but wonder what mysteries and dangers awaited you within those ominous walls.

"What is that?"

"That's my house," Mihawk said casually, as if mentioning that he owned a small cottage by the seaside.

You couldn't believe your ears as you stared at the imposing castle, realizing that you had just stepped into the lair of the world's greatest swordsman.

"Why are we at your house?"

"Because you need to get bandaged up and I need to rest," Mihawk replied, his eyes scanning the castle's surroundings for potential threats.

"My house is equipped with everything we need to tend to our wounds and recover. Plus, it's the safest place for us right now."

You kept quiet as you saw the castle get bigger and closer, the sense of foreboding intensifying with each step. The eerie silence that enveloped the surroundings only added to your unease, making you question the true nature of Mihawk's "house" and what secrets it held within its walls.

"We're here," he said in a very nonchalantly tone.

As you looked around, you noticed the thick iron door of the castle slowly creaking open, revealing a grand entrance that seemed to lead into the heart of darkness.

Your heart raced with a mixture of fear and curiosity, wondering what awaited you on the other side.

As you entered the castle, the lights switched on by themselves, illuminating the grandeur of the place. The flickering candlelight danced off the intricate tapestries and ancient suits of armor, creating an eerie yet mesmerizing atmosphere. It was clear that this was no ordinary home, but a place steeped in history and power.

"Mihawk! Why are you back so early!" a voice came from inside the castle, echoing through the grand halls. You followed Mihawk's gaze and saw a figure emerging from the shadows, their eyes filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

The figure that emerged from the shadows was a woman. With her signature pink hair and a frilly black dress, she exuded an air of both elegance and mischief.

Her wide eyes sparkled with curiosity as she took in the sight of you in Mihawk's arms, clearly intrigued by your presence in their mysterious castle.

"Perona, this is our guest for now, treat her with respect," Mihawk stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Perona's eyes widened even further as she assessed you, her curiosity turning into a mischievous smile.

"Oh, how delightful! A new playmate," she exclaimed, her voice dripping with excitement and a touch of malice.

As you tried to process Perona's words, you felt a chilling breeze on your back. Startled, you turned around and to your astonishment, you found yourself being held by a translucent, ghost-like figure instead of Mihawk.

The figure's eyes glowed with an ethereal light as it floated effortlessly, its presence sending a shiver down your spine.

"Come along!" Perona said excitedly, also floating and headed upstairs, her frilly black dress billowing around her.

Reluctantly, you followed Perona, your eyes fixed on the ghostly figure that carried you. Its ethereal presence seemed to be bound to Perona, as if it were her loyal companion in this eerie castle.

As you ascended the stairs, you stole a quick glance down to the first floor, where you had caught a glimpse of Mihawk before. However, to your surprise, Mihawk was nowhere to be seen.

It was as if he had vanished into thin air, leaving you alone with Perona and the mysterious ghostly figure. The air grew colder, and a sense of unease settled over you as you continued to follow Perona deeper into the heart of the castle.

"What's your name?" Perona asked, floating closer to you with a mischievous grin. Her pink hair seemed to glow in the dim light of the castle as she eagerly awaited your response.

"My name is Y/N," you replied, feeling a mixture of apprehension.

"Y/N? That's such a good name," Perona complimented as she continued to float, leading you deeper into the castle. The ghostly figure holding you seemed to emit an eerie glow, its presence becoming increasingly unsettling as you ventured further into the unknown.

Perona finally stopped in front of a door and quickly opened it, getting inside. The ghostly figure followed suit, its ethereal form gliding into the room.

As you stepped into the room, you were immediately captivated by its opulence. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, and the furniture was ornately carved with delicate details.

The room was filled with plush cushions, silk curtains, and a grand canopy bed fit for a princess. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the space, casting a warm and inviting ambiance. It was as if you had stepped into a fairytale, and for a moment, you forgot the eerie presence that had brought you here.

"This is my bedroom," Perona said as the ghost placed you on the edge of her bed.

"It's really nice," you said, speechless of the sight of the room.

Perona chuckled, her mischievous grin widening. "Now let's get you a bath and some new clothes, the ragged look does not fit you," she joked, gesturing towards a luxurious en-suite bathroom.

The thought of a warm bath and fresh attire was tempting, but you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered in the air.

As you tried to stand up, your legs did not cooperate with you and started to make you fall. Panic surged through you as you grasped for something to hold onto, but all you could grasp was thin air.

Luckily, Perona was beside you and was able to catch you in time, preventing you from falling to the ground. She held onto you, her ethereal grip providing a surprisingly strong support, and helped you regain your balance.

"Are you okay?" Perona panicked, concern evident in her voice as she held onto you tightly.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you muttered, trying to downplay your momentary loss of balance. But deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was seriously wrong with your body.

"Let's get you a bath now, maybe that will make you feel better," Perona suggested, guiding you to the bathroom.

The bathroom was an extension of the opulence that permeated the rest of the room. Marble countertops, gilded fixtures, and a large clawfoot bathtub took center stage, surrounded by intricate tilework and a crystal chandelier that sparkled overhead.

Perona guided you into the bath with utmost care, ensuring that you were comfortable every step of the way. She adjusted the water temperature to your liking and gently helped you settle into the luxurious clawfoot bathtub, making sure you were fully supported.

As the warm water enveloped your body, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and gratitude for Perona's kind and attentive nature.

Unable to take the silence anymore, you decided to make a joke.

"Is this how you treat all your guests?" you joked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hugged your knees close to you.

"Actually, you're our first guest," Perona said, kneeling beside the bathtub. "But I must say, you're making quite the impression already. We've been waiting for someone like you for a long time."

"What do you mean?" you asked curiously, facing Perona.

"You see, that old man Mihawk has been so lonely for all his life, it was time that he had some love in his life," Perona explained, her voice filled with a mix of sympathy and affection.

"What do you mean?" you said, feeling your face heat up at her words, unsure if you had heard her correctly. Perona's eyes softened as she looked at you, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Mihawk has been searching for a companion, someone to share his life with. And it seems like fate has brought you to us."

"That can't be," you protested, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "He only brought me here because he pitied me since I was the survivor of the fight that he was in. I can't be the companion he's looking for."

Perona's expression remained gentle as she reached out to touch your hand. "Believe me, it's more than just pity," she reassured you. "Mihawk sees something special in you, something that goes beyond mere circumstance."

You kept quiet, thinking deeply about what she said. Did the greatest swordsman in the world really think that about you? Fall in love with a small peasant? No way.

"Let's get you clean first," Perona said, getting the shampoo and rubbing your hair, getting the dirt out.

As she continued to wash your hair, she whispered, "You may doubt it now, but Mihawk's feelings for you are genuine. He sees in you a strength and resilience that he admires, and that's why he brought you here."

As Perona continued to massage your hair, her gentle touch and the soothing sound of the water made you feel incredibly relaxed. Despite your doubts, the weight of the day started to lift off your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel yourself drifting off to sleep in her caring hands.

"Y/N, Y/N?"

You quickly straightened your back and looked at Perona, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Yes Perona," you said softly.

"I'm done washing your hair, is my massaging that good?" Perona teased, standing up to stretch her legs and arms.

You blushed and smiled at Perona's playful comment. "Yes, Perona, your massaging is amazing. I've never felt so relaxed before," you admitted, feeling grateful for her presence and the unexpected turn your life had taken.

"My treatment isn't over yet, you need new clothes," Perona said excitedly, running out of the bathroom to find some clothes that would fit you properly.

As you watched her leave, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation filled your heart, wondering what other surprises this new chapter of your life would bring.

Slowly, you got out of the bath and walked over to where the towels were hung from. As you dried yourself, something caught your eye in the mirror; it was your back.

It was a painful reminder of the abuse you had endured throughout your life. The scars crisscrossed your back, telling stories of pain and suffering. As you stared at your reflection, you felt disgust and guilt fill your heart.

How was Perona not disgusted by you? How could you show that to her? She must have pitied me as well.

"Hey Y/N, are you okay?" Perona asked, her reflection showing in the mirror as well, standing at the doorway. She looked at you with genuine concern in her eyes, her expression filled with empathy and understanding.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, quickly covering your back with the towel. You didn't want Perona to see the scars and be burdened with your past.

"I've got your outfits ready," Perona informed, her voice filled with excitement. "I picked out some clothes that I think you'll love."

You nodded, walking out of the bathroom and seeing the different outfits on the racks. Perona's taste in fashion was impeccable, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you imagined yourself wearing the carefully selected clothes.

Though all of the outfits were dresses, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. As someone who has always been in pants and shirts, you wondered if Perona truly understood your personal style.

Nevertheless, you decided to give the dresses a chance and hoped that they would make you feel as confident and beautiful as Perona saw you.

"Sorry, all I have are dresses."

"It's okay," you assured, taking the first dress and going back to the bathroom.

When you properly looked at the dress, you realized that this was a bad idea. It was a style that you would never choose for yourself. Maybe it was because you are only able to wear one set of clothes - too frilly, too feminine, and completely foreign to you.

But Perona had put so much thought and effort into selecting these outfits for you that you decided to suck it up and wear the dress. You wanted to show her that you appreciated her gesture and were willing to step outside of your comfort zone for her.

Plus, who knows, maybe trying something new could be a positive change for you.

As you looked into the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock at the person staring back at you. The dress completely transformed your appearance, making you almost unrecognizable to yourself.

Despite your initial hesitation, you took a deep breath and reminded yourself that sometimes stepping outside of your comfort zone can lead to unexpected growth and self-discovery.

You walked out of the bathroom and immediately looked at Perona for her reaction. Her eyes widened as she took in your appearance, and a wide smile spread across her face. "You look absolutely stunning!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice.

"Thank you," you replied shyly, grateful for Perona's kind words and validation.

"This is why we need to show you off to Mihawk," Perona stated happily, her eyes gleaming with excitement. You couldn't help but blush at her words, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation building up inside you.

Lost in your own thoughts and the rush of confidence from trying something new, you were so absorbed in your own bubble of happiness that you didn't even hear Perona's statement about showing you off to Mihawk.

Then you felt as if you had been picked up again by someone.

Startled, you turned your head to the side and made eye contact with the ghost, who had picked you up once again.

"Let's go," Perona smiled, floating again and led the way. You clung onto the ghost, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity as you followed her through the halls, eager to see where this unexpected journey would take you.

As you followed Perona through the halls, you couldn't help but admire the grandeur of Mihawk's mansion. The elegant decor and intricate artwork displayed in every corner showcased his impeccable taste.

It didn't take long for Perona to lead you to Mihawk's study room, and as you entered, you were immediately struck by the air of wisdom and power that seemed to emanate from the room.

Mihawk seemed oblivious to your presence, deeply engrossed in the book he was reading. His intense focus and the way he furrowed his brows as he turned the pages only added to his mysterious aura.

"Mihawk, I brought Y/N here," Perona said with a hint of pride in her voice, gesturing towards you. "Doesn't she look stunning?" she exclaimed, treating you as if you were a prized possession on display.

When Mihawk looked up from his book, the both of you had immediate eye contact, and his eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of you.

It was as if time stood still for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze as he took in your transformed appearance.

Did he not like your dress? Did he not like you getting too close to Perona?

"Perona, can you leave the two of us alone?" Mihawk ordered, his gaze never leaving yours.

Perona then whispered, "Good luck, even though you might not need it. Mihawk has never shown such interest in anyone before. You must have made quite an impression."

Perona nodded and floated out of the room, leaving you alone with the enigmatic swordsman.

The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through his mind.

"Come sit here," he said, gesturing to the chair beside him.

As the ghost moved, it gently dropped you onto the chair beside Mihawk. You sat in the seat, trying to steady your nerves as you waited for him to speak. The silence in the room was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and uncertainty about what was to come.

Even as you tried to settle into the chair, Mihawk's piercing gaze never wavered.

"Is there something wrong with your legs?"

You turned to him in surprise, your eyes widening at the unexpected question. "No, nothing's wrong with my legs," you replied, slightly puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

"Perona's ghost carried you all the way here,"

"I tripped once and Perona was overreacting by making me get carried," you explained, hoping to alleviate any concerns he might have had.

Mihawk's expression softened ever so slightly as he nodded. "I see," he responded, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

The awkward silence hung in the air, amplifying the tension between you and Mihawk. You wondered if there was something more he wanted to say, or if he was simply contemplating the situation. Either way, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anxiety and anticipation as you waited for him to break the silence.

"You look beautiful by the way," Mihawk said, finally breaking the silence. His compliment caught you off guard, and a blush crept onto your cheeks.

"Thank you," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. The sincerity in Mihawk's words sent a wave of warmth through your body, calming your nerves slightly.

"Do you want to stay here?" Mihawk asked, his piercing gaze still fixed on you.

The question caught you off guard once again, and you found yourself searching for the right words to respond, unsure of what staying in this enigmatic swordsman's presence would entail.

"I like it here, but I don't want to intrude," you said, hesitatingly. The words escaped your lips as you tried to convey your mixed feelings of both comfort and reservation in Mihawk's presence.

"You are not intruding at all," Mihawk started, his voice calm and reassuring. "Perona seems to like you, so you can stay as long as you like." The weight of his words lifted some of the uncertainty from your shoulders, allowing you to relax a little more in his presence.

"I- I can stay?" you said, looking at him with surprise, the words escaping your lips before you could fully process them.

Mihawk was surprised by the sudden eye contact but quickly regained his composure and looked back at his book, nodding. It seemed like he was trying to regain his composure and maintain his usual stoic demeanor.

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude and a hint of relief. The permission to stay in Mihawk's presence felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and acceptance in his words.

"Do you like dresses?" he asked, not lifting his eyes off his book. His question caught you off guard again, and you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well this is my first time wearing something other than ripped clothes. Why do you ask?"

"We can go shopping after you recover, if you'd like," Mihawk suggested, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I appreciate the offer, but I feel like I would be using you if I accepted. I don't want to burden you or take advantage of your kindness," you said, your voice filled with sincerity and concern.

"You're not burdening me at all," Mihawk reassured, his gaze unwavering. "Helping you is my choice."

"You're very generous," you said, overwhelmed by Mihawk's kindness. The offer to go shopping after your recovery was unexpected, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his willingness to help.

"I understand that nothing can repair all you have gone through," Mihawk replied, his voice filled with empathy.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," you replied, tears welling up in your eyes. "To have someone like you, someone who understands, by my side... I can't thank you enough."

As Mihawk was about to reply, the door opened dramatically and revealed Perona, who had a mischievous smile on her face. "Oh, sorry for interrupting your conversation!" she exclaimed, causing both of you to turn towards her in surprise.

Startled by the sudden movement, you jumped in your seat, your heart racing.

"What do you want?" Mihawk muttered, a sign of anger showing in his tone. His interruption was abrupt, and his gaze shifted from Perona to you, as if silently asking if you were okay.

Perona's mischievous smile grew wider as she said, "I just wanted to let you two know that dinner is ready."

Mihawk sighed and glanced at you apologetically before turning his attention back to Perona. "Thank you for letting us know, Perona. We'll be there shortly," he responded, his voice calm but still carrying a hint of frustration.

Perona nodded, chuckling mischievously before floating away, leaving you and Mihawk alone once again. You took a deep breath, grateful for the brief interruption that allowed your racing heart to calm down.

"Can you walk?" Mihawk asked, placing his book on his desk.

"Yes, I can walk," you replied, relieved that your momentary panic hadn't caused any physical limitations. Mihawk nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good," he said, standing up from his chair. "Shall we head to dinner then?"

"Yes," you said, standing up as well, and you followed Mihawk out of the room, feeling a sense of comfort knowing that he was there to support you.

As you continued to follow him from behind, it reminded you of your life just a few hours ago.

When walking was not a choice at times but a command enforced by cruel guards who would yell, "Walk faster!" while pulling the chains that were wrapped around the necks and arms of the slaves.

You were only able to answer with a 'Yes Master' or a 'Yes sir'. Other than those two, you would be severely punished depending on who heard your wrong answer.

Unfortunately you were a slave that was passed across many ships for all of their lives and you weren't familiar with that rule yet. Your last ship made you do everything in silence, even cry in silence that you even thought you had lost your voice.

The punishment you had to endure in Don Krieg's ship was indescribable. From physical beatings to starvation and isolation, every day was filled with unimaginable pain and suffering.

It was a constant battle for survival, and the fear of making a single mistake haunted your every move.

"Are you coming?" a voice said, making you jump.

Without thinking, you answered with "yes master," your conditioned response from years of slavery.

But as the words left your mouth, you quickly realized where you were and who you were with. The weight of your past life lingered in that moment, reminding you of the scars that still remained, even if they weren't visible.

You quickly corrected yourself, realizing that you were no longer in that dark place. The presence of Mihawk and the safety of his house provided a stark contrast to the horrors you had endured.

His eyes filled with concern as he noticed your sudden startle. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized, extending a hand towards you.

"No, I'm sorry, I should have paid more attention," you said, shaking your head.

The memories of your past sometimes still caught you off guard, but being in Mihawk's presence helped ease the lingering pain.

Feeling a sense of comfort, you slowly wrapped your hand around his arm, finding solace in his presence. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes of the trust that was slowly growing between the two of you, helping to heal the wounds of your past.

As you continued to walk in silence, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the freedom you now had. Each step forward was a reminder of how far you had come from the days of bondage and suffering.

Finally, after walking in silence for a few more minutes, you and Mihawk reached the dining room. The sight of the beautifully set table and the aroma of the delicious meal filled the air, instantly making your stomach grumble with anticipation.

As you approached the dining room, Mihawk graciously pulled out the chair on his right side for you. Gratefully, you settled into your seat, ready to indulge in the nourishing meal before you.

Perona then floated in from the kitchen and sat in front of you, her mischievous smile lighting up the room. "I hope you're hungry," she said playfully, her ghostly form exuding an air of excitement.

It was clear that she had put her heart into preparing this meal, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in this newfound family.

"Let's dig in, Itadakimasu!" Perona said, sitting down. The words marked the beginning of a joyful feast, as you and Mihawk joined her at the table, savoring the delicious food.

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment as you stared at the unfamiliar cutlery in front of you. Forks and knives were foreign objects to you, as you had never used them before.

"What's your dominant hand?"

"Huh," you said, looking at Mihawk. "I'm actually ambidextrous, so I can use either hand."

Mihawk chuckled softly, reaching across the table to hand you a fork. "Well, I guess it's time to learn something new," he said.

You took the fork and stared at it, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. As you held it in your hand, Mihawk leaned in and gently guided you through the proper way to hold and use it, patiently teaching you the art of dining with cutlery.

As you held the fork for the first time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unfamiliarity and anticipation. The smooth metal against your fingertips felt foreign yet strangely empowering.

With your heart pounding, you cautiously brought the fork to your lips, trying to mimic Mihawk's guidance.

You fumbled with the fork a few times, dropping food and feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Mihawk and Perona, however, remained patient and encouraging, assuring you that it was completely normal to struggle at first. With each failed attempt, he offered gentle guidance and reassurance, reminding you that learning something new takes time and practice.

With a cautious grip, you tentatively speared a piece of food and raised it to your lips. As the flavors mingled on your tongue, you couldn't help but smile at the small triumph of mastering this new skill, savoring not only the taste of the meal but also the sense of accomplishment that came with it.

You looked at Mihawk in shock, and you could see the slightest smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was as if he had anticipated your reaction and took joy in witnessing your triumph over the unfamiliarity of using cutlery.

"You're a quick learner," Mihawk said with a proud glint in his eyes, rewarding your efforts with a nod of approval.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a sense of gratitude for Mihawk's patient guidance.

You started to eat, savoring each bite and enjoying the newfound skill of using cutlery. As you looked up, you noticed Perona's gaze fixed on the two of you, her eyes shining with happiness.

"What is it?" Mihawk asked, also noticing Peroma's staring.

"It's- It's nothing!" Perona replied, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be engrossed in her meal once again.

You found Perona's reaction endearing, her blush adding to the charm of the moment. However, Mihawk scoffed, dismissing her behavior as nothing more than a triviality, before taking a sip of his wine and returning his attention to his meal.

You couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, but you decided to focus on enjoying the rest of the meal and savoring the newfound skill of using cutlery.

What would she think if she saw me now? In a fancy dress, at a fancy castle and with fancy people.

You smiled sadly at the thought, knowing that she would never have the opportunity to witness this moment. Her absence was a constant ache in your heart, but you took solace in the fact that you were carrying a piece of her with you, her spirit guiding you through each small triumph and reminding you to cherish every moment.

Mihawk had noticed the sadness behind your smile, but his silence on the matter only deepened the mystery of his thoughts.

The fancy castle exuded an air of grandeur and opulence, with its towering walls adorned with intricate tapestries and sparkling chandeliers illuminating the exquisite dining hall.

The dining hall was a breathtaking sight, with its grand chandeliers casting a dazzling array of light that danced off the polished silverware and fine china.

The walls, adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and noble conquests, added an air of regality to the already opulent space. As you took in the surroundings, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and privilege to be in such a luxurious setting.

"So what are we doing tomorrow?" Perona asked curiously, breaking the silence that had settled over the table.

Her question brought you back to the present moment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you thought about the adventures that awaited the next day.

"I will be going out to meet up with someone," Mihawk stated, taking another sip of his wine. His cryptic response piqued your curiosity, leaving you wondering who he was meeting and what plans he had in store.

"Who?" Perona asked, her eyes filled with curiosity as she awaited Mihawk's answer.

"That is none of your business," Mihawk answered, his tone curt and final.

The air around the table grew tense as Perona's curiosity clashed with Mihawk's guarded demeanor, leaving you caught in the middle, torn between wanting to know the answer and respecting Mihawk's privacy.

"Oh well, that means the house is all to us," Perona cheered to you, her excitement palpable.

You couldn't help but smile, grateful for her lightheartedness in the midst of the tension. It was a reminder that even in moments of uncertainty, there was still joy to be found.

As the evening wore on, you and Perona continued to share stories from your past, exchanging tales of adventure and hardship. Mihawk remained a silent but attentive presence, his gaze fixed on you both as he listened intently to every word.

It was a rare moment of vulnerability and connection, as you realized that despite his guarded demeanor, Mihawk was genuinely interested in getting to know you on a deeper level.

It would not be too difficult for you to get used to this, you thought to yourself. . . .

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You woke up trapped on a slave ship, embarking on a harrowing journey of torture and suffering. As you lay restlessly in your sleep, you found yourself waking up in a familiar place.

It was a dark and damp room, with shackles tightly binding your ankles and wrists. Panic consumed you as you realized you were a prisoner on a slave ship.

As you slowly regained consciousness, you noticed a group of guards surrounding you. They were cruel and merciless, their faces etched with twisted desires. Each guard carried a whip, which they eagerly used to inflict unimaginable pain upon your flesh.

So it was a dream, you thought sadly, remembering the feeling of being in a majestic dress in a castle with Mihawk and Perona.

As you got up to the yelling of the guards, you realized that the dream was just a temporary escape from the harsh reality of your situation. The pain in your limbs and the stench of the ship's hold reminded you that you were still a captive, desperate for freedom.

The guards showed no mercy as they tormented you. They would strike you with whips, leaving welts upon your body. The whips were adorned with sharp metal spikes, causing excruciating pain with every lash. The guards laughed and taunted you, reveling in your suffering.

It became clear that the guards' sadistic pleasure was their primary objective. They enjoyed inflicting pain purely for their own amusement. Their laughter echoed through the ship, reminding you of your helplessness.

As the days turned into weeks, the slave ship continued on its journey. The stench of sweat and fear filled the air. The guards kept us confined in cramped, unsanitary conditions. We were subjected to constant hunger and thirst, our bodies ravaged by disease and malnutrition.

Your suffering was unrelenting and, as we sailed further, our despair only grew stronger. . . .

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You woke up sweating profusely from the nightmare, your heart pounding in your chest. The vividness of the dream left you shaken, unable to shake off the feeling of despair and hopelessness that had consumed you from your nightmare.

You looked around and saw you were in a fancy yet empty room. The grandeur of the furnishings contrasted sharply with the emptiness of the space, leaving you with a sense of eerie solitude.

The silence was deafening, and you couldn't help but question whether this was another illusion, or if there was a glimmer of hope for escape after all.

You remembered how Perona showed you to this guest room last night, assuring you it would be a safe place to rest and you could decorate it later.

You then slowly got up from your bed and made your way to the door as you walked slowly. As you turned the handle, a rush of anticipation filled your veins. The creaking of the door echoed through the empty hallway, and you cautiously stepped outside, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the deserted grounds. The stillness of the night was unsettling, as if the whole world was holding its breath in anticipation. The moon cast an ethereal glow on the desolate landscape, illuminating the path ahead.

The late hour meant that Perona was likely to be asleep but you were unsure of Mihawk. You weren't able to identify any sleepiness from him during dinner unlike Perona, who was complaining about how she needed her beauty sleep for one hour until you volunteered to wash the dishes for her.

As you tiptoed down the corridor, every step was carefully calculated to avoid making any noise. The silence enveloped you, amplifying the sound of your own breathing.

You knew that any sudden noise could alert Mihawk to your presence, and the consequences of being caught were too dire to contemplate.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing from downstairs.

Your mind raced with possibilities, wondering who could be roaming the house at this hour. Could it be Perona, unable to sleep and wandering aimlessly? Or perhaps it was Mihawk, patrolling the premises to ensure the safety of his guests.

The unknown nature of the situation only heightened your anxiety, and you knew that you had to proceed with extreme caution.

Despite knowing that it was wrong, your curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn't resist the urge to explore the castle further. The allure of the unknown beckoned you, and you silently made your way towards the source of the footsteps, determined to uncover the secrets that lay hidden within the walls.

You made it to the grand staircase without any disturbance, its grandeur and elegance captivating you as you ascended each step. The soft moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows added an ethereal touch to the scene, casting colorful patterns on the marble floor below.

As you walked down the stairs, the footsteps grew louder, echoing through the empty hallways. The sound resonated with an eerie intensity, sending shivers down your spine and intensifying your sense of unease.

When you reached the end of the stairs, a figure emerged from the shadows, completely unaware of your presence. Their footsteps faltered for a moment as they glanced around, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

The figure standing before you was none other than the legendary swordsman, Dracule Mihawk. Clad in his signature black attire, Mihawk exuded an aura of mystery and power. His long, flowing black hair framed his chiseled face, accentuating his piercing, hawk-like eyes that seemed to hold a depth of knowledge and experience beyond measure.

The sharp angles of his jawline and the confident set of his shoulders portrayed a man who was both formidable and unyielding. As he moved with grace and precision, his black cape billowed behind him, adding an air of elegance and drama to his every step.

It was clear that this was a man who commanded respect and demanded attention wherever he went.

You had always heard stories of Mihawk's fearsome reputation and his unmatched swordsmanship, but now, as you looked at him up close, you couldn't help but notice his striking features.

His sharp eyes softened as they met yours, revealing a glimmer of curiosity.

The harsh lines of his face seemed to soften, revealing a hidden attractiveness that you had never noticed before. Despite the air of mystery and power that surrounded him, you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to his handsome and enigmatic presence.

"Y/N, what are you doing awake so late?" Mihawk asked as he fully faced you, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and concern. His piercing gaze remained fixed on you, as if trying to unravel the mystery behind your presence in his grand mansion.

You stumbled for words, caught off guard by his sudden attention, unsure whether to reveal the truth or come up with a plausible excuse.

Finally, you mustered the courage to respond, "I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't resist the allure of exploring this magnificent place."

Mihawk's gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Curiosity can be a dangerous thing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of warning.

"I understand the risks," you replied, meeting Mihawk's gaze with determination.

Mihawk nodded before gesturing you to come over, "Y/N, come here," he said, his voice holding a touch of intrigue. As you stepped closer to him, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. What could he possibly want with you?

As you got close enough, Mihawk slowly reached for your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His grip was firm yet gentle, as if he held something precious.

"I'll be back before tomorrow evening, but if you have any problems, just call me on this," he whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of reassurance.

As he released your hand, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty filled the air. With the Transponder Snail now in your possession, you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you in the coming hours.

You watched as Mihawk opened the door, said goodbye before walking into the forest. The sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, leaving you standing there, holding the Transponder Snail in your hand, filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation about the adventures that lay ahead.

Feeling tired, you closed the door and headed back to bed, placing the Transponder Snail on the desk close by.

The events of the evening replayed in your mind, and as sleep finally claimed you, you couldn't help but wonder where Mihawk was going, and how you would be involved. . . .

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"Good afternoon Hawkeyes Mihawk, what honour do I have for you to be here today?"

"I have something that might interest you, Garp."

"And what might that be?"

"Have you ever heard of a devil fruit that allows the user to control its own aura and even the aura from other living beings?"

"No, I haven't. Tell me more," Garp replied, his curiosity piqued. . . .

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Part 2?