#mihawk fluff

Donquixote Doflamingo

Doflamingo felt stupid.

I mean, how could you have slipped away so easily? Like a little rat, you ran way and he didn't notice until your bedroom was empty and you simply vanished in thin air. He looked for you, God knows he looked for you. He moved heaven and earth to find you, and yet, you were still gone.

But he didn't expect to find you here.

A slave auction is not something he would normally attent. But he was bored, and something told him to go look. To see if he could find anything of value. And oh was that something right. You were there, not as a buyer, as a good. Dressed pretty, looking pretty, everything usual about you. Chain to your neck and pitiful look in your eyes. He chuckles to himself. Before the auction can even start he's already walking over to the auction master and murmuring the largest sum of money he can offer in your name. The greedy bastard accepts without questioning, and you leash and collar are finally where they belong, in his hands.

"Maybe I should keep you like this," He grins, tugging at the chain and making you stumble forward. You tremble, eyes wide and mouth agape as you look at him. "Collared, and ready to blow up if you slip through the cracks again."

"I didn't run," You can't bite your tongue in time, he cocks a brow, still smiling, amused at what you're going to seemingly explain. "I- I was kidnapped. They took me. That's why I'm here, I would neve—" He shuts you up by tugging on the chain again, his large hand trapping your face so he can kiss your lips, long tongue slipping past the resistance of your mouth. He purrs as he speaks.

"You're a terrible liar."

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk felt dull.

Ever since you've been gone everything seems to bore him more than usual. Perona may distract him with her antics every once in a while, as well as Roronoa, but beside that... he feels lonely. He wonders where you are, what you are doing, if you are happy without him. And then he doesn't feel dull, he just feels bitter.

Passing through Shabaody wouldn't usually be his thing, but there was nothing better to do. And he could maybe find something special to replace you, even if he doubts it. Slave auctions are for collectionists of rare species and sadists, he doesn't know what he's doing there. But he stays, to watch the show, to see how many enslaved mermaids are captured this time.

Instead, half way through, he finds a much more pleasant sight.

You.

Chained, collared, and perfectly dressed. He doesn't know what possessed him. In a second he is pointing a blade at the auction master's neck, curtly demanding for your chain. And once he has it in his hands, it's like he's woken up. The collar falls in an instant, and he gathers you in his arms. The world a blurr, only you mattering.

"I shouldn't have ran." You say between sobs and hiccups, he nods.

"I know."

"I'm so sorry." You cry out, holding him tighter. "I was so scared."

"I know." He says again, his grip tightening just enough for you to notice.

You didn't loose the chain, you just ran back to the usual one.

“Red haired” Shanks

Slave auctions have never been Shanks' thing.

It's pitiful, really. To see so many young women chained and collared, sold to the highest bidder. Which usually ment sold to a man who would treat them like disposables, using them then throwing them out like yesterday's gargabe. Thinking about it is gruesome, so he prefers to don't stick his nose where it doesn't belong.

But either way, he's there this time. Because his crew wanted to, and he has frankly nothing better to do. Not after you went away anyways, he should have never let you say no to his proposal, he should've knocked you up and get your ass back inside the ship. Then he would at least have the excuse of sex to miss out on this.

The thought of you is always sour, so much so that he even thinks one of the slaves looks like you. Exact hair, exact eyes, exact same way of trembling and cowering in fear. He looses control once he realizes, Emperors Haki hitting everybody in the room until they pass out, limp, gone.

The chain around your neck loosens, and he catches you in his arms in an instant. The softest kiss is pressed to your hair.

"Not getting away this time, my love."

Sir Crocodile

Crocodile feels furious.

Every little thing is a reminder of your abscense, of the one thing that slipped away from him the second he let his guard down. He should've taken you, he should've never left you with the choice. Instead, now he has to carry the guilt of knowing another man could possess you.

Maybe that's what he needs, something to possess, maybe that is why he is at this stupid slave auction where nothing and nobody can compare to the one thing he desires, you.

No mermaid or mink or any of those things could compare to your beauty and radiance. He is enraged now, he is wasting his time here. He stands up to leave, and freezes in place when he sees you.

The second you make eye contact, he's already turned to sand, mere dust that flies your way and somehow messes with the collar enough for it to fall into little pieces of garbage. He gathers you in his strong arms, lifting you up bridal style.

"You rejected me with this purpose?" He asks, mocking even when his tone is serious.

"N-Not at all." You murmur, shocked, relieved, conflicted.

"Good. Now that you know the graveness of the mistake you made, I'm not letting you tell me no twice."

hope you enjoyed this!!!!

have a great day/night

TAGGING:

For Doffy: @bookandyarndragon @massivepenguinunknown  @eroscastle @goldenglow149 @lurexin @hbk99450 @stranger00001 @kitzusune @3v37773 @mizzhellsingsstuff @coolnekochan9961 @chercheryblossomsweet @hannas16 @mimihaitani @bad4amficideas @flow33didontsmoke @architectofsuffering @mrstraffy @poopooindamouf @sixeyesfornaiii @whatupbishs @idk67876 @a1x1n @angelic-selfshipper @xxj0rd13xx

For Mihawk: @shmyek  @anieluvs @delicatelycraftedbambi @iidagooner @trishki

For Shanks:  @jellystar-star @dreamcastgirl99 @iidagooner @myheadwillrolll @sabsmais

The gardens of Kuraigana Island were not what one expected of the World’s Greatest Swordsman. Gnarled old roses clung to the stone walls, stubbornly alive against wind and storm, and vines crept across the courtyard in tangled green webs. It was a place that seemed carved from shadow and silence.

Which is why Perona nearly screamed when she turned a corner and saw someone humming as they watered a row of stubborn tulips.

The woman wore no black frills or sharp edges, nothing ghostly or severe. Instead she radiated warmth, her laugh as bright as the sun cutting through storm clouds. She bent low, cooing to the flowers as though they were children, and when she noticed Perona, her face lit up.

“Oh! You must be Perona! Mihawk told me you like sweets—I baked a cake this morning, would you like a slice?”

Perona blinked. Then blinked again. “...Mihawk told you?”

The woman beamed. “Of course. He tells me all sorts of things.”

Perona’s jaw dropped. “Liar. Mihawk doesn’t tell anyone anything!”

The laugh that followed was so genuine, so utterly without guile, that Perona felt like she had been doused in glittering sunlight against her will.

Before she could demand answers, Zoro stomped into the courtyard, sweat-soaked from training. He barely noticed them at first, stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders.

“You’re working so hard,” the woman said warmly, already moving to fetch something from a tray on the stone table. She returned with a tall glass, condensation slipping down the sides. “Here—lemonade. You’ll dehydrate out there.”

Zoro accepted it on instinct, tipped it back in a long swallow—and then nearly choked to death when she added, with that same cheerful lilt:

“My husband respects your dedication, you know.”

Zoro sputtered, coughing into his hand. “Husband?!”

“Yes.” She tilted her head, smiling as if it were the simplest truth in the world. “Dracule Mihawk.”

The swordsman froze, lemonade still dripping from his chin. “...Mihawk. Married.”

Perona floated closer, glaring. “I told you she was lying! There’s no way Hawk-Eyes is married. He doesn’t even smile!”

As if summoned by their disbelief, the man himself appeared, silent as ever, from the stone archway. His presence cut through the courtyard like the edge of Yoru itself, and both Zoro and Perona straightened automatically.

Mihawk’s eyes flicked to his wife, then to the glass still in Zoro’s hand. “You’ve met.”

The woman beamed at him. “They’re lovely! Perona was just keeping me company, and Zoro’s working so hard out there—you should’ve seen the swings he was practicing.”

To their combined horror, Mihawk actually softened. Not much, not enough to be obvious—but his golden eyes lingered on her with quiet fondness, and his hand brushed the small of her back as he crossed to take the empty watering can from her grasp. The gesture was casual, intimate in a way that made Zoro feel like he had stumbled into something private.

Perona’s mouth hung open. She pointed an accusing finger. “You—YOU—you’re really his wife?!”

The woman laughed lightly. “I am. Surprising, isn’t it?”

“Shocking!” Perona shouted, little ghosts of disbelief fluttering around her head. “You’re so… so… sunshine-y!”

“And Mihawk is… not?” she asked innocently.

“HE’S A SCARY STATUE WITH EYEBROWS!”

Zoro, still processing, muttered, “I didn’t even think he liked people, let alone…” His words trailed off, his brain short-circuiting.

Mihawk, unbothered, set the watering can aside and plucked up the glass from Zoro’s hand as though the conversation bored him. He turned it between long fingers, then said in that deep, even tone, “You talk too much.”

His wife only smiled up at him, utterly unruffled. “And you love me for it.”

For the first time in his life, Zoro swore he saw Mihawk’s mouth twitch. Not into a smile—heaven forbid—but into something that almost resembled amusement. Then, without a word, Mihawk leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple.

The world went silent.

Perona screamed like someone had stabbed her. “WHAT DID I JUST SEE?!”

Zoro’s face heated despite himself, and he turned away sharply, muttering, “Tch. I didn’t need to see that.”

His wife only laughed, resting her hand on Mihawk’s chest with the ease of long habit. “You’ll get used to it.”

“NEVER!” Perona shrieked, flitting dramatically into the air. “I’ll NEVER get used to seeing Hawk-Eyes in love! It’s—it’s horrifying!”

“‘Horrifying’?” Mihawk repeated, tone deceptively flat.

Perona squeaked and darted behind Zoro, using him as a human shield.

Zoro sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “You two are insane.”

But when he risked one more glance, he caught the way Mihawk’s gaze lingered on her—the faint softening in the edges, the silent tether of two opposites bound together. And though he’d never admit it out loud, Zoro thought maybe—just maybe—it made sense after all.

Crocodile simply rolled his eyes at the occurrence, turning back to continue his way forward, muttering for his co-worker to come find him after he handled his bratty business; Daz followed right after the man while Mihawk looked at the small form with an unamused gaze.

Dokucha simply laughed, clapping her hands excitedly at the feat she had just accomplished.

“What have I told you regarding this?” Mihawk muttered, eyes narrowing when the toddler simply tilted her head at his question, unsure of how to answer.

“Not to jump from the ceiling.”

“No jump!” Dokucha parroted with a giggle, especially after taking in the horrified looks Galdino and Alvida had on their face after seeing a toddler launching herself from the ceiling.

“There’s no way she’s normal!” Galdino gawked, watching the girl completely unfazed and even ecstatic after going airborne.

“She has have to have a devil fruit,” Alvida agreed, looking at the girl up and down

Hearing this, Mihawk leveled the two with a hardened gaze.

“Is there a problem?”

“N-No, Sir!” Galdino called as he and the rest of the group wisely dispersed from the scene, leaving the father with his wild daughter.

:p

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

It wasn’t your first Christmas together, not by a long shot, but every year the holiday season still managed to feel special. Each year, Mihawk insisted that he didn’t need any sort of gift, that just having you was enough for him. Each year, you ignored that entirely and got him something anyway.

This year, you’d taken up a new hobby, and planned to give him something homemade instead. You figure homemade gifts are just that little bit more special. So, with your knitting needles in hand, you began to knit. You had to begin quite far in advance of the holiday, especially since you were planning on picking up extra shifts at work around the holiday itself to be able to afford the extra cost of heating in the cold weather and the gifts you wanted to buy for your loved ones. It wasn’t the largest project, but it felt special because it was the first one that you’d be gifting to another person, and because it was Mihawk you needed it to be perfect. You started over more than once, determined to get it exactly perfect.

It was only once you’d wrapped his gift and slid it beneath the tree on December 18th - because the gifts belong under the tree long before Christmas day, it makes it look pretty - that you were confident you felt good about what you’d created. You were sure he’d love it. Well, he’d love anything you gave him on principle because you were the one to give it to him but that was beside the point. This year, he wouldn’t try to remind you that he didn’t need anything. This year, he was just going to be happy to unwrap your gift, you were determined.

The two of you kept Christmas day casual, that was something you’d learned after the chaos that happened on your first Christmas together. You made sure to see friends and family around the day, but the day itself was reserved for the two of you to spend together. You let yourselves sleep in as a treat, ate a warm breakfast together rather than overnight oats, enjoyed some Christmas music as you cooked and ate. Just a slow start that the two of you could enjoy together, always somehow touching just for the enjoyment of being close. There was only one thing better than slow mornings together and that was in fact a slow Christmas morning. The apartment you shared was beautifully decorated, with the garland you’d had Mihawk fix at the top of the living room doorway with a curtain pole sparkling with the lights you’d added, the mistletoe you’d pinned at the bedroom doorway for fun, the little snowmen you’d insisted on buying last year just because you loved them so much. It was perfect, just what you loved, and Mihawk always indulged you on that.

Finally, you sat together on the sofa, a blanket pulled over both your laps because despite the heating being turned up, the cool outside air was still nipping at your toes. You reached beneath the tree, where half the gifts were already gone, having been given away the day before when you saw friends, and took out the package that you’d wrapped for Mihawk. He took it with an indulgent smile, golden eyes glinting with reflections of the fireplace video you’d put on the TV to make the room feel more cozy.

“How many times-” “I know. You don’t need anything. But I did something different this year, I’m really excited for you to open it.” You cut him off, reaching over to gently squeeze his hand. “Alright, darling.” He said on a sigh, but you knew he was nowhere near as exhausted as he pretended to be. You’d overheard him talking to his friend Crocodile about it once - it wasn’t that he disliked recieving gifts, in fact he found it endearing that you were so insistent on getting one for him, he just truly didn’t want for much.

You watched eagerly as he unwrapped the jumper that you’d knit for him, each row perfected to ensure that nothing would be out of place when he unwrapped it. His pale fingers traced over the yarn, admiring the pattern you’d managed to make, then carefully unfolded it to admire the item in its full glory. “So this is what you were working on so secretively.” He mused, a small amused smile tugging at his lips that told you you’d already won. “Well, there’s one more part.” You said with a smirk, then reached over to pull another package out from under the tree. You shredded the paper, uncaring for the mess you left behind in your eagerness to reveal the item, then held up an identical, if slightly differently sized, jumper. “You made two. So we can match?” He asked after eyeing the two jumpers for a moment. “Do you like them?” “They’re lovely, darling. Shall we put them on now?” “Yes!”

The both of you pulled your jumpers on over your pyjamas that you were still wearing, and you pulled Mihawk in quickly to take a quick selfie together to show them off, which you posted to your socials with a simple “happy holidays” as the caption. You padded away after a while, taking a small trash bag of wrapping paper to the door, and when you returned you found Mihawk fiddling with the hem of his new sweater, admiring it.

“Is there something wrong?” “Not at all. I think this may be the best gift you’ve given yet, my dear.”

Tag list: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @hyperfixationthingss @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @villainousace