Hiii!! If you're still taking requests, Could you do a Mihawk x fem!reader??
I'm addicted to this man 🥵🥵😫😍😍
Maybe like Yandere?? I'd let this man kidnap me 😍💕
I could try! I'm not good at writing Yandere stuff mostly bc I personally don't like it too much, but all I can say is I'll try my hardest for yours and everyone else's requests, hope you enjoy!!
"ꜱɪʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴡᴋᴇʏᴇ!"
Synopsis: After a quiet day of shopping in a small port town, you return home with Mihawk to unpack groceries together. A stranger had flirted with you earlier, but Mihawk dismissed it with cold politeness —at least, on the surface. Later, when you notice a mysterious red stain on Mihawk’s sleeve, you joke that he must have spilled wine from the market sampling. Mihawk agrees with a soft smile, letting you believe it. You never question it further, unaware of the truth behind the stain —or how far Mihawk is willing to go to keep you his.
Warnings; (softcore Yan! Mihawk, mention of blood but not explicitly stated as such) Word Count: 705 words ____________________________________________________
The port town was small, sleepy, and hardly worth a swordsman of Mihawk’s reputation. But here you were—grocery shopping like a normal person, with the most dangerous man in the world carrying your basket without a word.
You plucked a piece of fruit from a stand, turning it over in your hands.
Mihawk stood at your side, gaze cool and indifferent, but close enough that his cloak brushed your arm.
“Fresh, hm?” you mused.
“Rotten on the inside, probably,” Mihawk replied dryly, though you caught the faint smirk at the corner of his mouth.
You smiled, but your moment of peace was interrupted when a stranger leaned over the stall—a man, maybe a local fisherman by the look of him, grinning with a little too much confidence.
“Well, well. What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here, eh?” His eyes drifted lazily over you. “Bet you get lonely stuck on that island.”
Mihawk’s hand tightened slightly on the basket’s handle. His eyes shifted, golden and sharp, to the man. But he said nothing.
Not yet.
“Oh, I’m not lonely,” you said, trying to laugh it off.
“Ah, you don’t have to lie, sweetheart. I could show you around town, if you—”
“She will not need a tour,” Mihawk interrupted, voice smooth but glacial. His eyes didn’t blink. “She is spoken for.”
The man’s grin faltered.
For a second, the air seemed to thin—your skin prickled, but Mihawk’s face remained perfectly neutral. He could have been commenting on the weather.
The merchant’s lips pressed together, and he backed off with a nervous nod.
You pretended not to notice the way Mihawk’s gaze lingered on the man long after he turned away.
Later, at Kuraigana Island
You and Mihawk unloaded the groceries in the kitchen, the stone walls of the castle cool and familiar around you. You hummed softly to yourself, setting the parcels on the counter.
“Did you get the wine?” you asked, reaching into one of the bags. “I wanted to try that one we sampled.”
Mihawk placed a crate of vegetables beside you. His cloak shifted with the motion, and that was when you noticed it—a faint stain, deep red, trailing along the cuff of his white sleeve.
You frowned, pointing at it. “Oh. Looks like you spilled some.”
He followed your gaze, then glanced back at you.
“The wine,” you added, teasing. “Silly Hawkeye. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Mihawk’s lips twitched. A small smile, barely there.
“Yes,” he said simply. “The wine.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re usually so careful.”
“I will be more mindful next time.”
His voice was gentle, almost warm. He watched you as you unpacked the rest of the bags, your back turned to him, oblivious.
In the quiet of the kitchen, Mihawk wiped at the stain with a cloth—slow, methodical, precise. His eyes never left you.
And the truth never touched your lips.
END
____________________________________________________
