Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You were walking alone along a dirt path, passing some interesting landscape. You’d been dropped off at this gloomy island at your insistence. The crew of the ship you were sailing on had tried to warn you about someone or something other who lived here, but you paid no heed. Even though it was overcast, you could tell that the island’s land would be suitable for farming. If it wasn’t, then oh well, you’d continue on your way. You didn’t worry too much about it, things always seemed to fall into your lap.

As you were walking, you spotted a large castle in the distance. Surprised, you changed direction to head towards it. You wanted to see if anyone lived her,e like the sailors said. You heard some screeching in the distance - maybe there were monkeys on the island? No problem, you were good with animals.

Walking towards the castle, you see that someone had been farming the land. Well, trying to farm the land. You can see someone was working diligently but made many rookie mistakes. You perked up even more - maybe you could be hired as a farm hand. That would be ideal since you liked farming and earning money but didn’t want to settle down anywhere for too long. You kept walking and saw a pale man in ornate clothes and a wide rimmed black hat (with a plume!) kneeling down to weed a bed of oil berries. He had a huge sword strapped to his back that surely wasn’t a farming implement. He looked a little incongruous with the setting, but you shrugged. You’d farmed in all kinds of clothes, you didn’t judge.

Walking up to the man, you said with a wide smile, “need a hand?”

The man looked up stared at you, yellow eyes boring into your own. He didn’t answer you but stood up, towering over you. He crossed his arms and continued staring intensely. He gave off an intimidating aura. Or, tried to. You weren’t scared.

You persisted, saying “You sure you don’t want help shug*? You’re not gonna get a drop of that crop if you continue like that.”

The man finally answered in a cold voice “whatever do you mean?”

“Well, you got girded toads in the bed.”

“And?”

“Girded toads mean you also got parsley flies.”

“And? Get to the point.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That is the point. If you got parsley flies, they’ve already laid eggs in the current berry crop. You gotta get rid of the current crop or the whole season will be ruined and you’ll be eating nothin’ but bugs. You don’t know much about oil berries, huh?”

The man didn’t answer, but the way he looked over at the berries told you you’d hit your mark.

“This your place?”

“I reside in this castle, yes.”

“You wanna hire me for the season?”

“For what?”

“As a farm hand. I been doin’ this a long time. I see you’ve been workin’ real hard, but you’re gonna need help if you wanna be eatin’ these vegetables by season’s end. I reckon I can get your farm growin’ a bumper crop if the creek don’t rise.”

“There is no creek on the island. There is, however, a large river that runs north of here.”

You were confused, and said “don’t need one, shug. So whaddyou say? Try me out for a few days and if it ain’t workin’ out I’ll pack my bags and go. No hard feelin’s. I don’t cost much, just room, board, and 20% of the crop’s harvest.”

The man was silent for a minute, but you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker.

“5%.”

“15%”

“10%”

“Done,” you said with a smile. You held out your calloused hand “it’s a deal.”

(*meant to be read as “shoog,” short for sugar. )

Mihawk’s POV

He had been industriously weeding his berry plants when you showed up, wearing a large sunhat, overalls covered in dirt, and a radiant smile on your face. You were a lovely looking woman who did not have any shoes on her feet or a care for her own life it seemed. He had sensed someone new was on the island, but waited until they revealed themselves before he attacked. You did not know how lucky you were - Mihawk had killed many would-be assassins sight unseen on the island. But he had held his hand to see what you would do. He had not anticipated that you would offer your farming services.

Indeed, you did not seem like a warrior - one look at the well used tools poking out of your pockets, the dirt under your fingernails, and your calloused hands suggested you were a farmer as you claimed. He did appreciate your advice about the berry crop, something he would double check in one of his farming books later. He spoke with you briefly, making a deal for your labor in exchange for some food and money.

He felt you posed less of a threat to him than the mandrills. But one could never be too careful. Faster than you could see, he unsheathed Yoru and held it to your neck. You took half a step back, but were otherwise unphased by his sudden assault. You frowned and said “well, if this is your version of hospitality, I think we’d better split ways now.”

“I am Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords of the sea, strongest swordsman alive. I do not take kindly to those who would seek to attack me.” He loomed over you with the same intensity that made seasoned Grand Line pirates quake in their boots.

“Duly noted. I’m Y/N, I’m currently a farm hand for Dracule Mihawk, strongest swordsman alive. Now that we’ve made introductions, can you put down the sword? I don’t much care for knives to my throat.”

You had courage and a steely spine it seemed. Mihawk was intrigued. Most did not have the gumption to speak to him the way you did. Perhaps this farm hand arrangement would work out well.

Chapter Text

"Would you like to view the accommodations of the castle?” Mihawk addressed you, after completing a tour of his farm. You were a little impressed, he hadn’t done a terrible job. Especially since this looked like his first foray into farming. You’d definitely seen worse. He was a man of few words, telling you only the names of the fruits and vegetables he’d planted. That’s ok, you didn’t mind silence either. You were sitting on your haunches and making a rough sketch of the farm with paper and pencil you’d had in your sack. You stood up and said “sure enough.”

The afternoon sun had come and gone, and you were hungry. “By the way,” you said, walking towards the castle “I’m not much of a cook. I can grow your food but I cain’t cook it. Er, not well by any means. I can try, but you might not like the results.”

“It is no matter. A cooking schedule has already been established. Perona and I switch off, as Roronoa is also…not inclined towards cooking.”

“Oh, there are other folks here? And they don’t help you on the farm?”

“Roronoa is dedicated only to his training. Perona prefers to remain in the castle.”

“Oh, she’s what I call an indoor cat. Ain’t nothing. Takes all types to make the world run.” With that, you continued walking in silence together. You didn’t feel the need to say anything and neither did he. Walking along together, you occasionally pointed out wild edible flora. “Let’s keep our eyes on that fiddlehead fern. Once they’re ready, they taste great sauteed.” Mihawk looked over at the fern but said nothing.

Upon reaching the castle, he opened the large door with ease. “After you,” he said gesturing inside. It was a grand place, you supposed, all bricks and tall ceilings. “There are many unused rooms inside the estate, you may select whichever suits you.”

“Oh no need, I’ll just be here to eat. Maybe to bundle vegetables when the harvest comes.”

“What do you mean.” he said the question as a statement, as though the thought of not living in the castle was unfathomable.

“This ain’t my kinda place. Too grand for the likes of me,” you said with a kind smile. “I saw you have a shed out by the farm. I’ll live in there. Nice ‘n comfy.”

“The garden shed is not a suitable accommodation.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind hunkerin’ down outdoors. Weather seems fine tonight.”

Mihawk sputtered. You’d rather sleep in the grass than in his grand castle?

“You alright there, Boss? We already fightin’ each other?”

“There is no fight. If you wish to live in the shed or outside like the animals, you may do as you please. Beware the humandrills. I will give you no further warnings.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Mihawk POV

You did know your craft of farming. He enjoyed listening to you talk about the wild vegetables and their practical applications. You did not feel the need to prattle on when there was nothing needing to be mentioned, something he appreciated. You had a certain spark that made everything more interesting. It was charisma, he realized. Not like Shanks, who weaponized it to manipulate those foolish enough to fall for it. You were artless in your charming personality and it shined through your words and actions. You were not unpleasant to be around, which Mihawk appreciated.

He was going to show you around the castle when you told him your preposterous idea of living outside in the shed. He had never heard of such nonsense. But you were an adult woman capable of making your own foolish choices. He didn’t have to understand it.

It was Perona’s turn to cook dinner, and he could smell the stew she was finishing. Perona, as temperamental as she was, had a knack for cooking. It was easier to tolerate her outbursts on a full stomach. He walked you to the kitchen and showed you the attached mess room. Though he had a penchant for eating in the dining room, they most often took their meals in the mess. Perona was floating about, putting the finishing touches into the stew.

“Ooooh, what do we have here?” Perona said as she floated about, encircling you. “Did you finally get a servant like I wanted? This one is dirty. Ew! Make it wash!” Perona said as she grimaced in disgust. You just laughed at her words, taking her insults in stride. You did not even comment on the fact that she was floating about with her hollows following.

“Ain’t no servant, but I am dirty, no denyin’ that. I’m Y/N, I’m workin’ the farm for a few. You must be Perona. Heard a lot about you, but didn’t do you justice. Why you’re as beautiful as the day is long,” you said, tilting your head to the side and smiling. You had quickly surmised the way to Perona’s heart - through her ego.

“Ah, don’t be so silly! In these old rags? I’m usually so much cuter!,” Perona was waving you off while smiling and blushing.

“No, I mean it. I’ve never seen hair like yours before - just the crowning jewel of your look. You must tell me how you get it that way.”

Mihawk would rather eat Roronoa’s cooking than hear about Perona’s hair care routine…again. But the two of you were having a spirited conversation as the table was being set. He noticed you correctly placed the plates, bowls, cutlery and glasses according to the rules of etiquette. Roronoa joined the rest of you in the dining area. He grunted as a means of expression.

“Roronoa, this is Y/N. She is aiding my work on the farm.”

“ ‘M Zoro,” he said, sitting down to eat the plated food.

“Nice to meet you Zoro,” you answered. Though when you said it, it had an amusing twang. It sounded more like “Zoh-roh.” Roronoa said nothing and you didn’t engage with him further.

Dinner passed easily between the four of you. You talked with Perona about various topics he found exceedingly tedious. However, he was pleasantly surprised to see your table etiquette extended past table settings. He had been subjected to Roronoa’s unrefined eating style, often eating without utensils. Perona would talk with her mouth full of chewed food, a truly odious habit. You, however, held all your utensils correctly, cut your meat with the knife in your right hand, chewed with your mouth closed, and had placed a handkerchief in your lap as a napkin. Mihawk was pleased to see that there was at least one other person on the island he could bear to eat near.

After the meal, you helped clean up alongside Roronoa. Mihawk poured himself a glass of wine, and offered you one as well. You accepted, and he poured glasses for Perona and Roronoa as well. He felt it was acceptable to have a toast to new beginnings. He handed you your glass and raised it. You did the same.

“May our harvests be bountiful and may we have the time to enjoy it.”

You smiled, and gently clinked your glass against his. Roronoa chugged his entire glass in one go. Perona sampled the wine and stuck out her tongue, declaring that it wasn’t “sweet enough.” You sipped gently and thanked him for the glass. Hopefully the humandrills didn’t kill you tonight, he thought to himself. You were becoming rather useful to have around.

Chapter Text

Mihawk POV

He hadn’t heard any screaming in the night, so either you were killed quickly or you had survived the night. Mihawk came down from his bedroom to the kitchen for his morning cup of tea. He was used to being the first one up and relished the solitude of the early morning. That is, until he entered the kitchen.

“Good mornin’ sunshine,” you said sipping a cup of coffee at the table.

Mihawk was even less inclined to speak in the morning, but felt obligated to respond.

“Good morning, Y/N. I hope you had a pleasant night in the shed.”

“Oh yeah, it was great. Was the perfect night for stargazing, too. Anyway, gotta get goin’. Lots to do today and I’m burnin’ sunlight.” With that, you finished the last of your coffee, rinsed the cup and went on your way. His day was off kilter and it hadn’t even begun.

Y/N POV

You had a lot of work to do today - you had to move some vegetables that were in unsuitable locations, weed, water, plant, mulch, and so much more. But you loved what you did, so you were looking forward to it all. You didn’t know why Mihawk had warned you about the humandrills. One had come up to you, sword in hand to attack. You weren’t sure why but offered him to sit and watch the night sky with you instead. He accepted and you spent an amicable few hours pointing out constellations and explaining their history to him. You thought he was sweet, and maybe could be put to good use for larger projects.

You looked out at the farm and mentally started organizing your tasks for the day. You began with watering as many of the plants looked parched. You had just about finished when Mihawk came to stand beside you. He was wearing another elaborate outfit with his sword strapped to his back. You ignored him and kept watering. When done, you needed to move on to a larger task - replanting some feather asparagus that had been planted too shallowly. You glanced at Mihawk, who still hadn’t said a word. He looked so solemn and stately you couldn’t resist the urge to ruffle his feathers.

“Could you be a doll and use your sword to make a narrow trench over there?” pointing to another area of the farm. Mihawk’s eye twitched.

“That would not be a suitable use for Yoru.”

“Well then grab a shovel pumpkin’ because we have to get digging.” With that, you sauntered over to the shed to collect your tools. He didn’t respond but you’d had your fun anyway.

You spent a beautiful morning digging and replanting the asparagus. During the time, you shared some facts and tips for growing feather asparagus, which generated some conversation with Mihawk. Once done, you stopped for a water break.

Sitting beside one another in the shade of a tree, you offhandedly said to him “by the way, do we have any ale here?”

“It is early in the day to be drinking, is it not?”

You laughed and said “no, not for me. Pourin’ some ale on the stalks of your beef tomatoes will keep slugs from gettin’ to ‘em.”

“I have read in my farming guides that the best way to keep slugs off beef tomatoes is an application of cumin powder in the soil around the base of the plant. It is inoffensive to the plants but the slugs do not tolerate it.”

“Yeah, that’ll work, but ale works better.”

“The farming guide I am referencing is the most well researched guide currently available. Ale is not listed as a method of slug deterrence.”

“Care to make a bet, swordsman?” you said with a devious look on your face.

Mihawk maintained his neutral expression but said “what are the terms?”

“We’ll split the plants in two groups. You do your treatment, I’ll do mine. In the end, let’s say a week, we’ll see who has fewer slugs. That is, if you are confident in your ‘research guide’.”

“Mmmm. And what does the winner receive?”

You looked up in thought. “If I win, you have to give me a new bottle of that wine we drank last night. If you win, I’ll move into the castle.”

“I do not care if you live in the castle or not.”

“Then I’ll do the dishes for a month, how about that.”

“Those are agreeable terms.”

“You’ve sealed your fate, sugar,” you said with a smirk.

Mihawk POV

You were right. It only took a few days of applying cumin to the dirt surrounding the tomato plants for him to see that you were having greater success with ale. Mihawk was not used to being wrong, but at least you were being a gracious winner.

After five days and countless cumin applications, Mihawk came to your shed at the end of the day, wine bottle in hand. He also brought two glasses, in case you were interested in some company. Over the past few days of working together, he found he enjoyed conversing with you. You were knowledgeable about many topics and were an avid reader, like he was. You mentioned that during off seasons and while on long sea voyages, your favorite activity was reading. You found both of you relished the same romantic series - about a swashbuckling pirate always on an adventure, but secretly yearning for true love.

He did not see much of you outside of work and meal time. There wasn’t much to do on the island, so he had assumed you would join them in the castle for entertainment. However, when you weren’t working, you were nowhere to be found. Mihawk was not expecting such an outcome. The types of people that he was used to engaging with - warlords, pirates, loose women, outlaws, merchants - would always flock to him. He would have to fend off irritating conversations, pathetic pleas, and wanton come-ons to no end. But you didn’t seem to need his company, you had a rich life all your own. Your independence of thought and lifestyle was refreshing, if not a little strange to him.

Coming to the shed, he rapped his knuckle once on the door. There was no response. Perhaps you did not hear? He rapped again, this time twice. Still no response, and no sounds coming from the shed. Though he was loath to violate your privacy, he wanted to ensure you were alright. Opening the door and peering into the shed, it was obvious you weren’t there. It was nearing nightfall - there wasn’t any activity to do on the island. So where could you be?

Mihawk just wanted to ensure you got the wine - he was not at all worried about your whereabouts, he told himself. He called out your name, “Y/N? Are you about?”

“Over here” you called from father away.

He looked where your voice had come from. You were sitting on the ground, leaning back against a stump. You had something on your hand and you were watching it move. Mihawk came towards you and stopped in front of you.

“Hey dumplin’, what can I do you for?”

“I concede that you have won our bet. You are far more knowledgeable than my books. As the winner, I bequeath to you this bottle of wine,” he said with a small smile. He presented you with said bottle. “I have also brought glasses in case you wish to celebrate your victory now.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. Thank you, honey. I think tonight’s a fine night for a celebration. Go ahead and crack ‘er open for us.” You smiled up at him while an insect continued crawling on your hand.

Mihawk obliged and poured two glasses of wine. After handing one to you, you said “c’mere, sit. The grass don’t bite.” You patted the ground next to you.

Mihawk was unused to sitting on the ground. He always thought it was so unrefined. And might soil his garments. But…it did have its charm. He ignored your use of a command and sat down next to you.

“You have an insect on your hand, Y/N.”

“It’s a lantern firefly. I’ve never seen this kind before, they’re the largest variety in the Grand Line. They have a short lifespan and only live a few weeks so I’ve never been able to catch ‘em at the right time.” You nodded your head towards a glade nearby. “Look.”

In silence, the two of you watched as more fireflies lit up the darkening night sky. It was a beautiful sight, the fireflies glowing like green glass globes in the air. The air seemed to be filled with softly glowing lanterns, creating a peaceful atmosphere. You sat and enjoyed the scene, sipping your wine slowly. Mihawk did the same. You had a tranquil look on your face and a soft smile on your lips. It was an otherworldly scene, sitting next to you, watching the glow in the growing dark. This was something he would not have found on his own before you came to him. Eventually, the night sky was completely dark and the fireflies stopped appearing.

“Well, that’s that,” you said, getting up and dusting off your pants. “Have you ever seen something so wonderful?” you asked him, returning your now empty wine glass to his hand.

Looking into your eyes, he replied “not until tonight.”

Chapter Text

Y/N POV

Mihawk’s comment surprised you. You had a huge crush on him, but you hadn’t been sure if it was reciprocated. Mihawk was reserved, it was hard to read how he really felt under his calm and collected surface. You enjoyed his company, his dry sense of humor, and his intelligence. You also enjoyed teasing him to no end. He made it so easy! Who else had an endless array of flouncy shirts, none of which seemed to close in the front? Who else brought his giant sword every. single. day. to the farm strapped to his back? Who else would tell Zoro “your training has far less impact on the world than my current engagement; leave me,” when you two were cutting off the heads of hookworms with butter knives? He was charming, well spoken, intelligent, funny, and incredibly good looking. You were excited for the possibility of a fling, even if you were leaving at the end of the season.

So you decided to put the swordsman to the test and find out exactly what his feelings were.

Mihawk POV

Once he understood his own feelings towards you, he was a man possessed. Mihawk found himself thinking over your interactions again and again. He thought of your smile, your charm, the way you never addressed him by name - only ludicrous pet names. He didn’t mind that you were uninterested in his titles, accolades, his power or his money. If anything, it made him feel free to interact with you naturally, not wondering if you had an ulterior motive or would report his every word back to another.

He thought of the way you were so dedicated to your work, your positivity, not to mention your elegant body. You favored loose long sleeved shirts made of gauzy fabric, to keep the sun’s rays off you during the heat of the day. You wore large overalls or loose pants for the same reason. He had gotten glimpses of your body, but he wanted to see exactly what you looked like underneath the baggy workwear. The previous women in Mihawk’s life had worn expensive gowns, form fitting designer outfits, and high end lingerie. He would bet on Yoru that you did not have any of these items. Those outfits were exciting in their own way, but he yearned to see under your billowing shirts.

Perona had been giving her unsolicited opinion on the matter. She said he was “crushing hard” and indicated that you would be open to a romantic liaison. Mihawk did not know how she had surmised the information, but the Ghost Princess was correct. She offered to act as a go between, but Mihawk declined the offer. Matters of the heart must be dealt with directly.

He wished to see you when you weren’t working, but you were always off amusing yourself on the island. Perona said he was a “stalker,” but really he just wanted to keep an eye on you. You engaged in foolish behaviors non-stop he thought, so someone had to be responsible. Thus, he kept watch over what you did in your free time, just to be safe. He had recorded that you partook in some of the following unusual activities:

• Tied a rope to a branch overhanging the river and used it to swing yourself into the water.
• Climbed the tallest tree on the island and sat in it for an hour.
• Started reading a chapter book to the humandrills, which they found interesting. You read to them almost nightly now.
• Laid on a blanket in the shade and watched the clouds roll by.
• Convinced one of the humandrills to throw you (not far, thankfully) into the ocean, after which you’d swim back to shore.
• Stargazed when the night sky was clear.
• Sang while walking about in the rain to no particular destination.
• Jumped into piles of hay, which you then had to recollect.

And many, many other such events. None of these events had any direct benefit to you. He couldn't understand how you moved through life with such ease. Although in truth, he was a touch envious of your freedom. You did not feel beholden to anyone or anything. You were like a butterfly, floating beautifully from place to place. 

Once, he found you laying and swaying in a hammock by the river with your hat over your face. You had attached a fishing line to your toe, with the rest of the line in the water. You were rocking gently in the breeze, without a care in the world. He did not understand what he was looking at.

“What are you doing?” You removed the hat off your face.

“Isn’t it obvious, stud? I’m fishing.”

“This cannot be efficient. How will you know if you catch a fish?”

“The line will yank my toe of course.”

“I do not believe you are trying your hardest to catch a fish.”

“‘Course I’m not, why would I?”

“To achieve your goals? To work for what you want?”

“Hmmm…I think that’s the difference between you and me. Don’t bother me none if I don’t catch the fish. That is, if we’re still talkin’ about fishin’.”

“It is important to have a driving desire goals, with the ambition to move forward.”

“I don’t worry too much ‘bout it. I don’t really have goals. I just kinda go where the wind blows me. Take life one day at a time. You only go around once, y’know.” With that, you put the hat back over your face and ended the conversation.

Y/N POV

The last few weeks with Mihawk had been interesting. He seemed to be watching you a little closer, but you didn’t mind. You were living your life, enjoying things as they came. He didn’t say any further romantic statements to you, but you could bide your time.

It was the hottest day of the season. It was absolutely miserable outside - muggy, buggy, overcast, and far too hot. Unfortunately, you still had some work to finish outside, so you were sweating like a stuck pig. Normally, you wore long sleeves but it was just too hot outside. You were wearing your string bikini and work boots. You didn’t want anything else touching your skin - it was just too hot.

You knew Mihawk was coming up behind you because you got a whiff of lemonbalm. Without turning around, you said “what’s new, pussycat?” 

Mihawk ignored the pet name, and said “I thought you might enjoy a refreshing beverage due to the weather.” He was holding a large glass of lemonade - with ice!

You looked behind you, smiled brightly, and replied “I most certainly would, thank you boss-man. Lemme just finish what I’m workin’ on and I’ll gladly take that drink.”

He studied you for a moment, and said “that is not appropriate work wear.”

“Says you, I don’t wear brocade pants to dig in the dirt.”

“I am simply stating that it does not provide sufficient coverage. I suggest you take it off.”

You shrugged. “Alright.” With that, you reached behind you and pulled the string to your bikini. It unraveled and you tossed it over your head, leaving your boobs free. You were no shy virgin, and you didn’t want to pretend to be one. 

Mihawk POV

Dracule Mihawk was an aloof and indomitable man. He was the strongest swordsman alive, one of the seven Warlords of the sea, and former Marine hunter. He had slain hundreds of men, fought and won the strongest and best the world had to offer, had sliced giant ships with just the slash of his sword. He destroyed fleets of ships on a whim. He was feared and revered the world over.

And yet, when you took off your top, Mihawk blushed. He could not compute when you simply shucked your top, leaving your beautiful breasts free. He was not a prude by any means, but your casual nudity almost shocked him.

He didn’t turn around or look away. You were bold, so he returned the sentiment. You got up from the ground, ambled over to him, took the glass from his hand and said “why, thank you, sugar. Just what the doctor ordered.”

Mihawk had been admiring your body in the bathing suit. He had never seen you with so little clothing, and he enjoyed what he saw. Your body was flawless, and he was savoring the sight. He didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t staring.

“What?” you said in a teasing tone. “Never seen a pair of tits before?”

“None so perfect as yours.”

Chapter Text

Y/N POV

You had to admit he was romantic, and his words made your heart skip a beat. Sure, you’d had many flings and lovers, but no one before him ever complimented your skills and knowledge. No one cared about what your interests were. Certainly no one had ever told you that you looked perfect. You were an avid romance reader, but you’d come to terms early in life that people didn’t really act the way they did in romance novels. But, maybe just this once, you would suspend your disbelief. Just for the season.

“Well, ain’t you sweet,” you drawled at him. 

You drank down the (quite refreshing) lemonade, and handed him back the glass. You turned your back and sauntered towards the shed. Mihawk was still staring at you, and you were eating it up. You opened the door to the shed, winked at him, and went inside to get another shirt. This whole thing was worth it to see Mihawk’s reaction. Seeing Mihawk blush was like seeing a unicorn in the wild. Something you never thought you’d catch and you wanted to watch until it was gone. 

When you came back out, he was gone. Maybe you’d gone too far? Oh well. Fortune favors the bold, after all. You just laughed to yourself and went back to work. 

Mihawk POV

Perhaps you were an assassin sent to kill him. You had almost given him a heart attack. It seemed your carefree attitude extended towards romantic engagements as well as fishing. He was not such a brute that he would touch you (or your lovely nipples) without your permission but dear gods did you test his restraint. If he had not left, he would have thrown you in the nearest pile of hay and had his way with you. Though, he was traditional at heart. He wanted to kiss you as the beginning of a romantic tryst between you. Now that you had shown your interest, he would do the same.

He did not see you for the rest of the day, various important tasks had occupied his time. After the heat of the day, he sought you out once more. You were sitting under the awning of the shed in a rustic style chair made of driftwood. There was another nearly identical chair next to it. Mihawk surmised that you had made the chairs, but didn’t understand why. He was accustomed to you sitting in the dirt. 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’,” you said, not taking your eyes off the evening sky. Did you have kenbunshoku haki? “Take a seat, watch the storm roll in with me. Weather’s gonna break.” 

“Why do you engage in activities like this?” he asked sincerely. He wasn’t mocking you, he really wanted to know. He sat down in the chair matching yours.

“Like what?”

“Ones that have no purpose, no reason.”

“Not everythin’ needs a purpose. It’s enjoyable. That’s all there is to it, you silly man.”

Mihawk had been called many names in his life. Cruel, brilliant, butcher, savage, resilient, intense, determined, a devil sent from hell, and numerous others. But never, not once, not even as a child, had anyone, ever ever called him silly. He didn’t know how to feel about it. He sat down in the chair.

“I admit, I am surprised that you crafted these. Of course, the workmanship is excellent, as is all your work.”

“Thank you dear, I’ve been collectin’ driftwood.”

“May I ask, why did you make these? You favor sitting directly on the earth.”

“Yes, but you don’t. It’s called a compromise, baby.”

“That is…considerate, thank you.”

A warm feeling arose in Mihawk’s chest. You’d made chairs because he didn’t like to sit on the ground. Generally, others were not thoughtful towards him. Being as powerful as he was, people feared him or wanted to overthrow him. But people weren’t mindful of his likes and dislikes. He felt that you saw him as a person. He sat down - he was not concerned about the quality of the furniture, since you were the one who made it. Your work was always top notch, even meeting his high standards. 

Mihawk hummed, then fished out an invitation from his jacket pocket and held it between his fingers. 

“I have received this invitation to a gala at Crocodile’s new residence. He has re-established himself and wishes to make a grand debut. I have always declined such events. However, I would like to attend this event. With you.”

“With me? I’m not sure I’m the best choice for something so elegant.”

“You are my only choice.”

Y/N POV

Did he have to be so dashing? So debonair? So charming? You felt a little nervous - you hadn’t been to a gala in..well, ever. You didn’t know who Crocodile was, but if he was sending invitations to Mihawk, he had to be someone important. Your palms were sweaty - you were a just little country mouse - what did you know about swanky galas? But still, the prospect of traveling with Mihawk seemed exciting. 

“Why, Dracule Mihawk, are you askin’ me out?” you said with a sly smile.

“It would seem I am,” he said with a tender look, standing up. He stood before you and held out his hand. You took it, and he pulled you into his body. Your heart was thumping so loud you were sure he could hear it. He wrapped his arm around your waist and you could feel his corded muscles holding you steady.

“What is your answer?” he asked, bringing his perfectly groomed face down to yours. You looked into his eyes, and whispered “alright.”

“Then it’s a date,” he said with a smile. He then dipped you back, cradling your head in his hand, and kissed you deeply.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six - Aye Aye Captain

Along with his other titles, Mihawk should really add “world’s best kisser” to his resume, you thought to yourself. You were laying in your favorite grass spot outside, thinking over the events of the night. Mihawk had finally kissed you, and it had lived up to all your childhood, girly, romantic, foolish notions. It didn’t hurt that he dressed like a hot, villainous prince of the underworld. He had kissed you in the dipped position just right, bringing his lips to yours like a supplication. You opened your mouth to allow his tongue to dance with yours, and they had fit perfectly. There wasn’t even any awkward tooth banging or nose bopping that sometimes came with first kisses. This was pure, unadulterated passionate magic. 

He had brought you back to standing, still holding your head from behind, and kissed you lightly once more. You were panting and yearning for more. Your eyes were half lidded as you said “Mihawk…”

“Good night, dear. See you in the morning.”

And he left. Left you in the lurch! You were so turned on you could hardly stand it. It seemed your upper hand had been taken from you - Mihawk could play the game, once he learned the rules. It made your heart flutter just thinking about his face in the moonlight. Ah, well, all in good fun. You tried to settle down to sleep, but the thought of the gala kept picking at your mind. Though Mihawk had made it clear he wanted you there, you didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. You’d talk to him in the morning and see what he said.

The next morning, you saw Mihawk during your early morning coffee. He looked perfectly coiffed, as usual, and you had bags under your eyes from thinking about him all night long. He strode up to where you were sitting, kissed you on the cheek, and said a simple “good morning.” He sat down opposite you with his tea.

You smiled and said “well, good mornin’ honey pie. Listen, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout that gala. I’m not so sure I’m the right woman for the job. I don’t have an outfit-”

“Perona already ordered you several to choose from.”

“I don’t know how to dance,”

“I’ll teach you.”

“And I’m just, well. Me. Y’know. A fly by night farmer. Not someone…like you.”

Mihawk gave you an intense look - similar to the one you had gotten when you first met.

“Y/N. I have never seen you without confidence before. This is alarming. It is no matter. I will decline the invitation to the gala.”

You rolled your eyes at him and snorted. You stood up from your chair, walked over to where he was sitting, and sat on the edge of the table so you were facing him. You put your warm hand on his cheek.

“Listen, I do have confidence, it’s just a little outta my wheelhouse. When I go with you, I’m sure it’ll be a hoot. Teach me how to dance and we’ll be right as rain.” With that, you patted his cheek, brushed your lips against his, put your cup away and went to work. No sense in worrying about it anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, it was raining heavily outside. It was impossible to get any work done, you just had to wait out the rain. You trudged to the castle to see if Perona wanted to chat. You did like talking to the Ghost Princess. She was opposite you in nearly every way, but you found her funny and surprisingly cheery for someone whose ghosties could make you depressed. You opened the door, and walked in the castle, shaking off some of the water. You were heading towards the main sitting room when Mihawk spotted you.

“Ah, Y/N. This is a perfect opportunity. Let us dance.”

“Lemme wring out somma this water so I don’t look like a drowned rat, and sure.” You could always talk to Perona later, you did need to learn to dance. You started taking off your outerwear. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any ladies shoes, would you? I’m wearin’ galoshes.”

“Of course. Let me see where Perona has placed them.”

You raised your eyebrows as Mihawk went to go look for women’s shoes. He had been planning this for a while, you realized. He returned with several pairs of shoes in your size, and placed the boxes next to an oversized arm chair. 

“Sit, my dear.”

As you took off the last of your rain wear, you did as he asked you. He knelt at your feet and opened one of the boxes, revealing gorgeous high heeled shoes covered in a dark black satin. 

“Those are absolutely stunnin’!” You thought they looked like wearable works of art. 

“They may suffice, we shall see.”

Mihawk spent the next half hour having you try various pairs on. It was a little heady having him run his hands up your leg as he was bent down on one knee in front of you. You thought he might kiss your leg a couple of times, but he shied away at the last moment. What a tease! He would place the shoe on your foot, tie a strap if necessary, and frown. He would look up at you and say something like “this shoe does not do your calves any justice. It is unacceptable.” Then take it off for you and have you try another. It didn’t matter to you which one you wore - but you let him have his fun. It felt nice to be pampered for once. 

He decided that the shoe that worked best for you was a spectacular black satin pump with a strap across the ankle. You voiced your appreciation and offered to pay for the shoes. Mihawk waved his hand like he was swatting away a small bug.

“There is no need.”

“Are you sure? These look expensive.”

“Darling, I assure you I have the means to afford a pair of shoes. Please allow me the pleasure of gifting them to you.”

“Well, if you insist.”

With that, he offered you his hand to help you to rise. You’d worn heels before, but not in a few years. You stood up and wobbled slightly- you’d forgotten how they changed your gait and stance.

“Are you alright?” Mihawk was hovering near you with an arm out to catch you if you fell.

“Hmm? Oh yeah. I’ve worn shoes like these plenty of times. Gimme a minute and I’ll take to ‘em like a duck to water.”

Mihawk POV

As he suspected, you looked absolutely ravishing in high heels. He had enjoyed his time at your service, running his fingers up and down your breathtaking legs. He knew he was teasing you, bringing his mouth close to you but never quite reaching any destination. He felt it was only a fair turnabout for revealing your tantalizing bosom to him. He wasn’t cruel - he planned to continue his exploration in earnest later on. But there were matters to attend to first.

He watched you take a few hesitant steps, but then you remembered how to walk in high heels. You were swaying your hips with every step, an absolutely resplendent sight. It didn’t matter that you were in high heels and work clothes - you made it look elegant. 

He went over to a side table and pushed a button on his musical den den mushi. A soft tune began to play. He strode over to you, and bowed. You giggled and curtseyed back to him. 

“To dance is to be one with another person,” he said to begin his lesson. “Anyone can move to music, there are but a few steps that must be learned. However, to dance is to move in synchronicity with another, to be in perfect harmony, to bend your will to match another’s. Do you understand?”

“Sounds nice, sweets. Let’s hit it.”

Mihawk gave you a small smile. He held you with one arm at the small of your back and took your other in his. He pulled you close to him and began moving with you gracefully in time to the music. You were lithe and pliant within his arms. He thought you might have trouble letting him lead since you were so independent normally, but you followed his steps with surprising agility. Perhaps farming was a misnomer on your part - maybe you should have been a dancer. You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, like he hung the moon. He couldn’t help himself, as the song finished, he slowed to a stop. 

“Thank you for that lovely dance, sugar.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, kissing your hand. With that, he picked you up bridal style and started carrying you off towards his bedroom, with you laughing in his arms.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - After A While

A few weeks came and went. The outfits Perona had ordered for you were absolutely stunning. Mihawk wanted to see you try on all of them, but you shooed him away. You and Perona decided on the one that best suited you, and you packed it with your things. 

Zoro had been put on farm duty while the two of you were gone. Perona’s duty was to get Zoro to the farm. You brought him down and explained everything that would need to be done in your absence. Luckily, it was only simple tasks like watering and weeding.

“So, that’s about all, got any questions?” you asked, handing him a list.

Zoro grunted. “No, got it. I can do it.”

“Thank you honey, I sure appreciate it.”

“Mihawk said he would dismember me if I messed up the farm.” Zoro was not laughing when he said this.

“He’s… not jokin’, is he?”

“No.”

“Hmmm….well, I’ll bring you back somethin’ nice as a carrot for that stick.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Sailing with Mihawk on Hitsugibune was an adventure all its own. The small craft was really only meant for one person, so you’d sat on his lap some of the time. You had always enjoyed sailing, and Mihawk was a phenomenal sailor…er, captain? You enjoyed good weather and good company on the way. Mihawk shared a lot of nautical knowledge that you were lacking, and you found him endlessly interesting to listen to.

After a few days, you reached the island you were journeying to. Crocodile had offered rooms at his estate for guests, but Mihawk had rented a hotel instead. Not a room, you realized as you both checked in at the desk. Mihawk had rented an entire hotel. He told you that the mere sounds of other patrons would “impede his romantic nature.” It seemed like a waste of money to you, but you weren’t one to tell others what to do.

That night was the gala, so you declared that you would be getting ready in a separate room. You and Perona had planned every detail of your outfit, down to the hairpins you would use, and you wanted to surprise Mihawk for the maximum effect. 

Mihawk POV

He and Crocodile were not friends. They were, at best, non-combative acquaintances. Mihawk did not mind Crocodile as much as some of the other members of the Warlords, like the irritating Boa or obnoxious Dolflamingo. However, he had a thought to thank Crocodile for inviting him to the gala. Because it allowed him the opportunity to see you like this.

You looked absolutely resplendent. The dress Perona had bought and you had selected made you look like a goddess incarnate. You looked like you had been poured into the dress - it accentuated everything he loved about your figure. Your hair was in a style that he hadn’t seen before, and it suited you. You had acquired jewelry, and it only served to highlight your already magnificent visage. You were a beautiful, sensual treat for the eyes. Though Mihawk knew the thought was foolish, he wanted to throw a cloak over you and hide your beauty from other eyes. He wanted to be the only one to bask in your feminine grace, not allow other filthy eyes to glance upon you. He had the brief thought of closing the door and simply ravishing you, gala forgotten. However, he knew you were excited for the event, and he didn’t want you to miss it.

He extended his hand to you, and when you took it, pulled you to him. He held you tight against his body. He brought his nose and mouth along your delicate neck, running his lips against the column of your throat. He simply had to have a small taste - he would have the full meal later. He heard you gasp and breathe harshly - a fitting punishment for doing the same to him. He continued on his ministrations until you put your hands against his chest and said “later, sunshine. Let’s get to the party first. We can always ditch early.” As always, your ideas were brilliant.

Y/N POV

The gala was unlike anything you’d ever been to before. Sure, you’d been to parties, formal gatherings, weddings, funerals, and every kind of social event in between. But nothing compared to the party at Sir Crocodile’s mansion. You could tell that the majority of the people there were movers and shakers. The way they handled themselves, the way they talked to others, they were clearly used to commanding a certain level of respect. Everyone was dressed to the nines, including Mihawk. Some attendees were socializing, some were drinking, and some were dancing to the live music.

You were happy he had taught you to dance. Well, not really taught. You could kind of dance, he was a magnificent dancer. You just followed his lead as he spun you around the dance floor. He made it seem effortless and intimate, and you enjoyed every moment of it.  You’d have to ask him to dance later.

You walked around the room with Mihawk, your arm linked with his. Many people came up to him and began conversations of varying natures. You didn’t say anything unless spoken to, but you could tell there was a buzz around the fact that he had both attended and brought a date. Mihawk was disinterested in conversing with almost everyone. He dismissed most who spoke to him after a terse sentence or two. It didn’t deter other guests from trying to speak to him. At one point, he asked if you wanted a glass of wine, and you accepted. He left you momentarily sitting at a table, watching the dance floor.

Mihawk POV

Crocodile had a certain taste that did not fit Mihawk’s own. The former Baroque Works leader favored decadence and a kind of self indulgence that he found tacky. However, the gala was acceptable enough to bring you to. Many had sought to speak to him - and garner information about you- which he had no patience for. All he wanted was to dance, drink wine, and speak with you. He didn’t care about these fools. As he came back to you with two wine glasses, he nearly shattered them in his hands. 

That lout Crocodile was speaking to you, clearly interested in both the conversation and your body. He was leaning towards you, smiling at your words as he spoke to you, eyes roaming your lush figure. He should not kill Crocodile at his own gala - probably. It would cause more headache than it would solve. Depending on what Crocodile said to you would determine the outcome, he decided. 

He walked up next to you, handed you your glass, and put his arm once again around your waist. You accepted the glass, said “thank you, sugar” and kissed his cheek. 

“Sir Crocodile came by to introduce himself, and I thanked him for the invitation to this wonderful gala.”

“Mihawk, no wonder you’ve taken an interest in farming lately,” Crocodile said with a smirk, “this delightful Signora could make a flower bloom in the desert.” Mihawk’s demeanor turned even colder. He fixed his unnatural stare to Crocodile, who remained undeterred.

“Ain’t you sweet. Well, I’d love to go dance to the music you’ve so thoughtfully provided.” Mihawk did not speak to Crocodile as he turned with you to leave the conversation.

Over your shoulder you said “See you later, alligator,” to which Crocodile laughed. Crocodile was lucky you wanted to dance. Otherwise he would have lost more than just his other hand.

Chapter Text

CMCM Chapter 8

Y/N POV

Mihawk looked…murdery. He was not speaking, and had a harsh grip on your side. People had stopped coming up to you two, preferring to stay at least a sword’s distance away. You hadn’t been around Mihawk for too long, but you knew jealousy when you saw it.

“Listen honeycake, that look you’re givin’ could curdle milk.”

Mihawk did not reply to you, but continued glancing around the room with a threatening look. You reached up and put one hand on his shoulder and another on his cheek, turning his face towards you. 

“Look, he’s yankin’ your chain and you’re lettin’ him. I’m not goin’ anywhere, let’s enjoy our night. We can leave right now if you want, wouldn’t upset me.”

Mihawk finally spoke. 

“His disrespect towards you was intolerable.”

“Sugar plum, would killin’ him make you feel better?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, do it later if you want. In the meantime, may I have this dance?” You took your hand off his face, and put it in his. He looked at you for the first time since Crocodile had spoken to you. He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand.

“My dear, nothing would delight me more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After redirecting Mihawk, you spent a lovely evening dancing, drinking, and softly speaking to one another. He was completely devoted to you, unconcerned with the optics of ignoring everyone else at the gala. You’d had a glass of wine or two too many and were feeling the effects. You knew you flushed when you were drunk, but you were hoping it wasn’t too noticeable.

After the end of the next song, Mihawk spun you out and brought you flush next to his body. You knew you were staring at him, but you couldn’t stop. You started blushing on top of the already present flush.

“What are you thinking, my sweet?”

“Sweets? Isn’t that my name for you-u?” You were trying to stop yourself from slurring, mostly successfully.

“Ah, but you have so many for me. Allow me to borrow just this one?” He started kissing your shoulder gently. You sighed in rapture.

“You never told me what you are thinking.”

“I’m just happy. You’re…so beautiful. You’re like…a painting but in r-real life. I didn’t think there were p-people like you.”

Mihawk hummed and continued kissing your shoulder, moving his lips slowly up to your neck.

“People like what, darling?”

“Jusssst wonderful people.” You lost your train of thought. You didn’t need it, anyway. You were having an enchanted fairytale night with a sexy villain and in the morning you’d be a farmer again but tonight - tonight you could be a princess if you wanted. You would let your childhood fantasy play out a little longer. You laid your head against Mihawk’s chest. You didn’t want to embarrass him in front of whoever was here even if he didn’t seem to care. It was time for you to go.

“I think I m-might be cooked.”

“Do you wish to leave?” He sounded slightly concerned. 

“In m-my pumpkin carriage if you please.”

“I don’t have one on hand, dove, but I will bring you back to our rooms.” Mihawk swung you over his shoulder, carrying you with a hand on your ass. You giggled - it felt like he was marking his territory for everyone to see. Guess he was still a little jealous, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wouldn’t admit it, but you were happy Mihawk had rented the entire hotel. You felt free to be as loud as you wanted, wherever you wanted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All fairy tales come to an end, and it was time to sail back to Kuraigana Island. The adventure back was just as enjoyable as the way there, and even more relaxing since there was no time constraint. Coming back to Kuraigana, you were excited to see if the farm had survived under Zoro’s watch. After docking, and thanking the captain with a kiss, you ran over to the farm. Things looked under control and well maintained. You went to go find Zoro, which took a considerable amount of time. Eventually you had to ask Mihawk to help you find him. He was training in the forest, and you hailed him with a wave.

“Seems like you’re not gettin’ dismembered. Farm looks great.” Mihawk did not comment on his previous threat.

Zoro grunted and continued his training. You took that as an acknowledgement.

“Anyway, as a thank you, here’s a bottle of booze I pinched from Croc’s house.” You handed Zoro an expensive looking bottle of sake. 

Mihawk looked slightly surprised. “When did you take that? And moreover, where did you hide it? I never saw it on your person. And I inspected closely.” He finished his sentence with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow and said loftily, “a lady never reveals her secrets.” 

Mihawk POV

During the interminably long Warlord meetings he deigned to attend, Mihawk often thought of how he would defeat the other warlords in battle should he want to. He had plans for each of them, honing in on their weaknesses and dulling their strengths. Some battles would be more difficult than others, but he had no doubt about his ability to vanquish them all. 

He now wished that he had put his plan into action for Crocodile. You had stayed his hand before with your charm, but the reptile shouldn’t have pushed his luck.

Because a few weeks after the gala, a present arrived to the island. For you. 

Crocodile had sent you an Alabastian purebred horse, easily worth 150,000 Beri. Apparently, you had spoken with him briefly about horses, and he decided to show you his favor. You were delighted with the gift, and spoke about how the horse could help you with various tasks. Mihawk was upset both that the snake had sent his woman a gift, and that he hadn’t thought of the idea himself first. You noticed his ire, and said that you would return the horse if Mihawk did not approve. However, he saw the light in your eyes and could not deny you your delights. You were his errant ray of sunshine, and you deserved the best the world had to offer. Even if it had come from a disagreeable, scabrous, detestable, noxious, imbecilic thug like Crocodile.

Chapter Text

You were eating lunch outside with Mihawk, Perona and Zoro, basking in the early afternoon sun. Mihawk had made some excellent paella, which you couldn’t get enough of. You were enjoying the food and company, when all of a sudden Mihawk sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s goin’ on lamb? You feelin’ OK?”

“Yes, I feel fine. The fool is approaching the island.”

“The fool?”

“Red Haired Shanks is who he means.” Perona supplied helpfully. “He comes by sometimes with his smelly ship and smelly crew,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “Though Benn is cute,” she mused with a finger on her chin.

“Ah.” You weren’t sure what the protocol was for guests who seemed to have a poor reception. Mihawk seemed annoyed, not excited. You thought Red Haired Shanks was one of the Emperors, but you never really paid attention to pirate matters. You’d roll with whatever happened.

“Benn Beckman is old enough to be your father, Perona.” Mihawk said like he was chewing a lemon. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s cute,” Perona said with a shrug. 

Zoro was acting even more reserved than usual, which was saying a lot for the swordsman. Whatever he had going on, Shanks’s arrival didn’t seem to be helping. You better keep an eye on the rubbing alcohol, you thought dryly. Well, how much trouble could a few pirates cause?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Famous last words, you thought to yourself. After lunch, you returned to work. It was harvesting time, and you were gathering beans in a bushel basket. You heard the rustling of leaves, and looked up to see a rotund man reaching for a groundberry. 

“Hey! What you think you’re doin’?! How rude! Just stealin’ my produce?”

“Best looking groundberries I’ve seen! I wanted to try ‘em,” said the man apologetically. He was eating a large hank of meat right off the bone.

“Well you can’t. It’s not for you. Are you Shanks?” He was wearing a bandana, so you couldn’t see the color of his hair. The man laughed.

“Ha! Never heard that before! No, I’m Lucky Roux.” He continued eating and inched his hand back towards the berries.

“You’re gonna be unlucky if you touch them berries,” you said flatly, gesturing with a trowel from your pocket.

“Yeah! Show some respect!” said another voice. Joining in the conversation was a tall man with red hair and only one arm. This was likely “the red fool,” as Mihawk called him.

“Leave the lady’s fruit alone, Lucky. She’s working hard!” The red haired man beamed at you. Another handsome pirate, you thought. Are all pirates so good looking? Or just Mihawk and all his acquaintances? You put the bushel down and dusted your hands off.

“I’m Y/N, I’m a farm hand here,” you said, extending your hand.

“I am Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates, one of the four Emperors of the seas,” he said with a flourish, bringing your hand to his mouth. You pulled it back.

“That’s nice, hun. You’re steppin’ on my row of grinder beans. Either help or leave.”

Mihawk POV

You had Shanks’s crew working in a more organized fashion than he’d ever seen them. Even Beckman was reluctantly picking gourds. Shanks would occasionally wander off, trying to get out of working, but you always roped him back in. This was likely the most he’d ever worked in his life, Mihawk thought to himself. You were engaging them in conversation while overseeing their work, and they seemed to be in high spirits. He supposed he should make an appearance, though he was enjoying watching you command them about. He walked up behind you and put his hands on your shoulders. You craned your neck up to look at him. 

“Oh hi, honeysuckle. I met Shanks. He’s over yonder, tryin’ to get out of workin’!” you yelled the last part towards the slacking captain, who was sitting in the chair you had made for Mihawk.

“I only have one arm! It’s hard!” the Emperor whined.

“You can drink well enough with one arm, can’t ya? So you can work too. C’mon now!” His crew laughed. Mihawk did not. He was displeased that Shanks was sitting in his chair. Shanks saw Mihawk, grinned, and waved. Why must everyone tempt him towards violence?

“Mihawk! I met your lovely lady! Why have you been hiding her?”

“I have not been hiding her. She has a profession that requires daily work, which is something you may be unfamiliar with. Why are you on my island?”

“Can’t an old friend stop by to say hello?”

“No.”

“Aww, Mihawk, you wound me.”

“I shall, if you do not get out of my chair.”

Shanks looked down at the chair and pouted. “But this chair is great! It’s comfortable and spacious. It’s like it was built exactly for my height! Has a great beach vibe, too.”

“Yes, it has many redeeming qualities. The primary of which is that it is mine. Vacate it immediately.” He was using the same tone he issued challenges with. 

Shanks shrugged and stood up. “Well, I think we deserve a reward after working so hard. What do you say boys? Time for a party?” The men cheered, finished up the last of what they were doing, and started to amble towards the shore. You looked confused. “It’s 3 in the afternoon,” you said with a questioning glance at Mihawk.

“The fool’s drinking is not bound by time. Come, Y/N, I will help you finish the tasks.”

Shanks gave Mihawk a pointed look but didn’t say anything as he meandered away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, you had accepted an invitation to come to Shanks’s party on the beach. Naturally, Mihawk attended as well. It was an informal affair, with the Red Haired pirates drinking alcoholic swill by a fire. You and Mihawk were enjoying an excellent full bodied wine, which he was unwilling to share with the Captain. The conversation flowed easily in the group, which did not surprise him given how friendly and fascinating you were. Shanks in particular was interested in your stories, your history, and your life. Mihawk pulled you closer to his side. 

“So, what are you going to do now that the season is almost over?” Shanks asked you. You swirled the wine in your glass in thought.

“Not sure yet. I’ll see where the tide takes me,” you said lightly. 

“Do you want to come aboard the Red Force? You could sail with us for a while,” Shanks said with a grin.

Mihawk was aghast and answered before you could. “The very nature of her profession excludes extended time spent sea faring. Besides, if she were to engage in piracy, I doubt it would be on your ship.” Mihawk couldn’t help his acidic tone - he could not bear the thought of you aboard the fool’s ship. Shanks laughed, and said “Relax, Hawkeyes. Didn’t know you were in love. I’ll leave your woman alone.” You blushed lightly when Shanks called you “his woman.”

Despite his irritating nature, Shanks had said a few sobering thoughts. He had mentioned the nearing end of the growing season, and the thought was disturbing. He had put off thinking about it, not wanting to conceptualize that you would be leaving, and soon. Downing the rest of his wine, Mihawk turned his thoughts inward as he watched you easily entrance his undesired guests. 

Chapter Text

A Horse By Any Other Name

Mihawk POV

Despite his denial about the changing seasons, the farming season was coming to a close. You were busy harvesting, breaking down areas of the farm that had stopped producing, and training the humandrills to take care of your horse. You’d named it Draftmule Mihorse, which you found amusing. He pretended that he did not. Perona had said Mihawk was “moping,” but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was an intelligent man, he knew that all things must end. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you work from the windows of the castle, wondering where your travels would take you next. 

He had no doubt that you could succeed anywhere, though the thought of you capriciously traipsing through the world did worry him. You didn’t know how terrible and cruel the world was - and he hoped you never had to learn. You didn’t seem to care that there were dangers lurking around each corner, waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim. The more he thought about it, the less he liked the thought of your whimsical travels. He would try to talk some sense into you, and see what could be arranged.

He left the castle and came down to watch you tend to Mihorse. You obviously loved the creature and anticipated its every need. You didn’t use it as a draft horse as much as a riding horse. He loved watching you ride it about the island, hair fluttering behind you. He had once seen you ride it in the nude under the light of the moon, a sight he would never forget. You were murmuring to Mihorse as you brushed him.

“Ah, Y/N. How is your steed today?” He refused to use the silly name. The beast was not even a mule, much less a draft mule.

“Mihorse is doin’ lovely, as always” you said, kissing the horse on the snout. The horse in return bit your straw hat and pulled it off your head. You didn’t seem to mind. 

“Out of curiosity, why are you training the humandrills to take care of the horse?” he wasn’t sure why the task had been allocated to them, rather than himself. It was certainly not jealousy prompting his line of questioning.

“Well, you leave for weeks on end for work, Perona hates horses, and Mihorse hates Zoro. So, who else would take care of him? Besides, they treat him like a little prince, he loves it. He might think he’s one of them,” you mused.

“Why aren’t you taking him with you on your journey?

You sighed forlornly and patted the horse on the neck. “I don’t think I can. He needs a lot of care and a stable life, not a life of travel…I’m gonna miss him a lot.” You looked up at his face and asked “what’s on your mind doll?” You were attuned to Mihawk’s moods, something else he would miss when you left. 

“I wanted to speak to you about your upcoming departure from the island.” You frowned slightly.

“Yeah, that’s comin’ real soon, huh?”

“Indeed. I am not sure your usual methods of finding new work will be suitable.”

“Oh, why might that be?”

“You were seen in public in my company, at the lizard’s gala. You will be known to the government as an outlaw.”

“But don’t you work for the government?” you said, looking at him quizzically. Mihawk frowned - that was a good point.

“In a manner of speaking. But other pirates and underworld bosses saw the same as well. It would not be safe to travel haphazardly to another location.”

“I don’t need to travel willy nilly, Shanks said he’d come pick me up and drop me at another island. I was thinkin’ of tryin’ a winter island this time, just for fun. Winter crops are so interestin’, especially since you can-”

Mihawk did something uncharacteristic. He interrupted you. 

“You may not journey on that decrepit, malodorous, dilapidated, ramshackle ship of foolishness.”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. You crossed your arms and shifted your weight to one leg. This…may not have been the best method to convince you.

“Really? Is there a reason why you are able to forbid me from doin’ somethin? As far as I remember, our partnership is about to expire, leaving me a free woman. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, that was the arrangement.”

“ Was ? Is there somethin’ I don’t know?” You looked even angrier than before. He decided to bare his feelings to you and deal with what may come.

“Yes, in fact there is. I do not wish for you to leave. I have enjoyed every moment spent in your company. You are the light to my dark, the sun to my moon, the rose to my thorn. I am never bored with you and never tire of listening to you. You are beyond what I could ever think possible to find in a woman. You are interesting, intelligent, charming, alluring, and a sensual treat. Please, stay with me.”

“Mihawk, I…”

“If you wish to travel and move on, I would be honored to take you to another location. It is selfish of me to covet more of your time. But I…I am only a man. A man in love. Please.” Mihawk practically whispered the last word as he looked at you with an intense gaze. He hadn’t begged for anything in his life. But he would beg on his knees if you wanted him to.

Y/N POV

You uncrossed your arms and stood up on your toes, putting your face close to his. 

“All you had to do was ask,” you said as you closed the distance and kissed him deeply.

"You can move into the shed with me if you'd like," you said mischievously.

"For you, I would." He considered his words for a moment and continued, "though I would prefer not to." You laughed and kissed him again.

You weren’t sure what the future would bring, but you wanted it to include your dour, sweet, romantic, violent, pale, farming protege. And Shanks had been right - one mention of his name and Mihawk had professed his love. Maybe you’d give him a bottle of booze from Croc’s house too.