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overtaken-stream · 10 months

Text

Drunk Deeds

Dracule "Hawk-Eye" Mihawk x F!Reader

Notes 1: I wanted (Y/N) to have met Zoro at some point in the pre-time skip as a foe (She lost) and since Zoro is an exceptional swordsman in her eyes, she (forcefully) choose him as her teacher after their brawl, unfortunately for Zoro, Kuma repelled you to the same place as our fav moss head. Note 2: I completely forgot about ages, but reader is older than Zoro, bc I find it funny for a grown woman to beg 19 y/o boy to teach her his swordsman ways. Note 3: It isn't specified if she is a straw hat, I left that open. Note 4: All this does not matter because I never mention it anyway.

Warnings: Oral(female receiving), wine involvement in a sexual activity.

The taste of grapes remains on your tongue, the calm, an almost invisible buzz of alcohol was underlining your headache that's been long forgotten now that the causes are thrown outside, out of your domain of expertise.

Your eyes wander over to the World Economy Newspaper, the major source of information covered in sweet propaganda and untruthful words regarding the newest attraction, the aftermath of the Summit War of Marineford. The monochrome pictures are scattered on the page and long paragraphs cry out for attention. Truly a tragedy to have greed decor and cover the crimes against humanity committed by the Marines.

Whether it's the gruesome pictures or the liquor you drank to rid of your thirst, the dry feeling on your tongue stays unnerved, it returns every few minutes you take in the wine.

It should be a familiar feeling, you think as you, yet again, grab the wine glass by the base of the stem, the clear rim is tinged with the soft color of your lipstick and there is a small amount of fluid remaining in the bowl, which you gulp down quickly, putting the empty glass back on the red tablecloth, you take a moment to swallow the last of the rich liquid. Then spinning the glass stem in between your fingers, you can feel your ears clog as the drunkenness heats your cheeks, though the wine does little to quench your thirst, the pleasant aftertaste left in your throat spreads throughout your consciousness, warm cozy fondness soon turns you drowsy and gasping for air.

Swift slamming of a cup in front of you makes you snap open your eyes (when did you close them?), and before the panic sets in an unknown voice interrupts the alarms going on in your head.

``You should know your limits.`` As soon as it came, the dread you felt quickly disappeared, and familiarity settled.

``S-Sir Mihawk!`` your flustered self is met with piercing Hawk eyes, thanking away whatever excuse that was quickly dancing on your tongue. ``Y-you have an extravagant taste in... Uh, wine Sir!``

The thought of when he had returned, or how you didn't notice his footsteps get lost in your clouded mind as his judgemental eyes wash over you, they settle under your skin, and for a moment you think pouring ice-filled water over yourself in snow would be better than the predatory gaze he sets upon you.

It isn't like he forbade drinking the wine he has hidden in every corner of the castle. Still, a drop of nervous sweat travels down your neck.

You swiftly turn away from his stare, eyes landing on the cold water-filled cup that he rudely slammed against the table, apparently for you to drink. Without words, you pour the water down your gutter, cool liquid satisfies the overheated core within, to the point that your worn-out teeth hurt from the cold sensation. By the time you set the partly empty cup down, Mihawk had already sat at the head of the table, away from you.

``Thanks for the water...``

For an unknown reason, his choice of seat made your heartache.

``Hm.``

Looking at the man, without his signature coat and the hat, felt surprisingly intimate, despite knowing each other for two weeks, all four residents, including yourself fell into a fresh routine quite easily. A routine that Mihawk adapted quickly and religiously maintained.

The hawk's eyes look up from the morning newspaper that he grabbed without your permission, and if it was anybody else, you might have said a snarky remark.

``Hand me the wine bottle.`` You have no issue being bossed around, you are more confident when following the orders of others, as annoying and humiliating as it is for somebody else, it doesn't bother you, especially when it comes to the warlord in the room, his orders are minimal, rare, and you don't feel any control from him, unlike Zoro who seems to get annoyed on your behalf whenever the older man 'dictates' your actions, leading to pointless remarks sent in your way.

Don't you feel lesser?

You stretch out your arm, sluggishly grabbing the exquisite bottle, and gently placing it in the rough hands of the swordsman.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he pours himself the said wine, grabbing the glass and before he drinks, the man tilts his head down in a thankful gesture toward you.

No, I don't feel any lesser. Why? Because Mihawk does not mean demean.

It isn't until he puts his lips onto the rim that you finally recognize the stained glass. Your eyes widened.

``Wha-Hey! Don't drink it!`` you flung up your arms in the air, however, no amount of blushing could stop him in time.

``That's my glass!`` You watch as his eyes open, the wine and glass still resting on his mouth, his incorrigible face is misplaced as you mumble embarrassed whispers his way while hiding behind your hands.

A second passes, ten seconds pass. The silence suffocates your flustered face hidden behind your arms away from the prying eyes of no man.

``Huh.`` The sound escapes his (probably) lipstick-stained lips, it shatters the awkward pause between you two. ``I... apologize.`` A faint blush on his heated cheeks is swept under the rug.

It takes you a bit to let your hands down, even longer to look at him in his static eyes.

Only after he grabs himself a clean wine glass, do you stop hiding your flaming cheeks away from him, sneaking glances at the open ruffled neck his white button-up shirt includes. The residue from earlier sits beautifully on his chapped lips, giving a faint shine from the lack of proper appliance. The color stains the transparent rim, laughing and teasing you, spreading countless unknown emotions that make you shy away and maintain eye contact with a tablecloth.

``Is there something on my face, (Y/N)?`` His double-ringed eyes land on your form, which you realize is too open for sneaky glimpses you've been giving him. Unaffected by your embarrassment.

You don't know if it's a drunken haze that gave you the confidence out of thin air, but you're sure at some point you've lost yourself in the slow hum of alcohol.

``Mm. Yeah actually.`` He raised an eyebrow at your response.

The feeling spreads like a lit steel wool, the fire following your lines of sanity as it leaves only boldness exposed to a hawk. You bet everything, and by everything you mean your life, the only thing you seem to carry that has any meaning in this meaningless world, on this action.

A chair falls onto the ground. Next, you're bending ninety degrees in angle, right arm rests on your knees as you're standing in the face of a gentleman, left hand travels to the man's lips, pale in comparison to the ghostly skin, rough and torn by the sea, the frown adorns his complexion as your pointer finger pad gently smoothes the color that pops off of him. It sticks to your skin, lipstick revealing your fingerprints.

It sticks like the smell of sake clinging onto the man. The scent that only now you've picked up, due to the proximity. He must have had a great time with Zoro outside.

His eyes watch, stern and unrecognizable as you pull your digit away from his mouth, in slow-mo you let him realize what the subtle, teasing smile on your face was about. He tries to gather what decency remains within, tries to not look down as your shirt reveals soft flesh underneath, concealed in the shadows.

By now you must have caught onto the distant smell of sake clinging to his button up, however, it does not seem relevant to either of you.

Sweat dribbles down from his temple, yet his hand moves up to grab your hip, and his body follows after it. Standing upright.

In your slowly widening eyes, he sees your confidence crumble like the boulders he used for training back in his youth, so effortless to demolish under his eye.

He looked down at the roses that bloomed under your eyes, wide and shaken for an unknown reason.

``Are you flustered?`` There are no words that meet him, his question causes your hands, resting on his chest, to tighten. He already knows the answer.

He drags your body closer, feeling your heat under his skin. His thigh drags your nether region unintentionally rubbing the cloth between your bodies. A hiss escapes your lips, his eyes narrow. ``Y-you're so...!`` You say between your clenched teeth, face heated.

Mihawk's arm tightens around your torso, shoving his knee further until he makes your buttocks meet the edge of the table. The wine bottle rocks back and forth.

``So?``

You are trapped.

``...So... Frustrating...`` Your eyes shut tightly as his lips meet yours. The strong aftertaste of Sake hits your wet muscle since the wine was not enough to cover it. His tongue eagerly entangles with yours, leaving you breathless. Through the clothes, you can feel his hand on your waist trail up your ribs and rest across your chest. It grabs at buttons and frees your body to his eyes.

Your heart thunders in your ear. Embarrassed you grab at his shoulders as he grabs at your thighs, kneading it before dragging you up and on top of the table. With great vigor, his hand removes whatever restriction was between your private parts, dragging and tossing it away. His lips never leave you, even when you struggle for breath, he leans over you, caging your body beneath. The lust drowns everything else, the sight, smell, and sense, for a blissful moment.

It ends unwillingly. The golden eyes watch, and yours stare back, both breathe heavily. The connection is broken when he goes down, leaving you leaning on your elbows to watch as he gazes at your folds with dark desire swirling in his ringed iris.

It's too much. Too blush-making for you. Lying flat on the table as your wrists desperately shelter your eyes. The moment goes on for what feels like forever.

And then the sensation hits you like a truck.

The cold, wet, bright red liquor drips onto your opening, blazing your face in complete blush as the loud sound of wine meeting ground fills the air.

Your hand flies down to hold yourself stable, letting the uncomfortable feeling overwhelm you.

Turning red, you could only gaze into his eyes that stared at your entrance, hungry for something. After a pregnant pause, he put the wine bottle on the floor, leaving your bottom half shining with red tints.

``Are... Are you insane?!`` your eyebrows turned up, voice shook. ``What are you doing?!`` flailing around you try to move away from his grip, inner thighs soiled in alcohol.

``I apologize for startling you.`` a sly glint lights up in his pupil, proving his apology otherwise. His hot breath disappears as he puts his mouth on your labia and quickly presses his tongue inside you without waiting for your response.

His grasp does not falter, instead strengthens and brings your bottom half closer until his nose finally meets your clit, lips gently travel over your folds, pressing sweet kisses on them that sprinkle over to your inner thighs. Tasting the alcohol with no shame in his actions. Tiny whimpers slip by as butterflies flutter in your stomach, pleasure makes your knees weak as he flicks at your opening. His tongue sneaking around your clit, sucking, circling, discovering with determinded precision what would shatter you to pieces the quickest. The wet sounds escape from his pressings, no doubt tasting and smelling the liquor as his tongue gets closer and closer to that one spot.

He sends shivers up your spine and uses his thumb to harshly rub against your clit, but once Mihawk finally found his desired destination inside of you, there was nothing that would get him to look at something but your pleasure-filled face finally unleash and listen to your cry that he compares to a siren's call, designed to enchant a lone pirate such as himself. He nestles and nuzzles his way through your meager whimpers, enthusiasticlly licking your addicting taste.

It's a shame your time together does not last forever.

#op mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #One piece #one piece x female reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #mihawk x you #mihawk smut #idk what possessed me to write this down #let alone publish it.#.my writing.

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