The One Where Shanks Won't Let Go

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Shanks, drunk again, had apparently decided that hugging you was his only reason for living.

The heck, Shanks.

You had to scooch around with him clinging to some part of you. He was currently hugging you from behind, his face buried in your hair. "You can let go now, Shanks."

"But I loooove you!"

"That's wonderful, sweetheart, now go tell Benn."

"I LOVE YOU BENN!!! There I did it."

*distant 'I love you too Shanks'*

"What is wrong with you two." You muttered under your breath. Shanks' grip was too strong for you to break on your own, even if he did only have one arm. 'Maybe...' You wondered if maybe Mihawk would help. You hadn't seen him all day, but... Well, maybe if you started screaming he'd show up.

"Hey Shanks, I'm gunna start screaming, so don't be startled."

"Mmkay."

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHG!!!!"

Mihawk jerked awake at the sound of a scream. Your scream. He lurched to his feet, jerking his sword off his back and swinging it in your general direction. Cutting down trees, he ran in the path he cleared, until he found you, standing in a clearing, Shanks holding you close. "Wha...?"

"Mihawk! Thank goodness. Make him let go please."

Mihawk replaced his sword and started walking toward you. "That's why you were screaming? Because of him?"

"Um... Yes?"

Mihawk moved behind you and jerked Shanks away by the neck of his shirt. "Run along, Red-Hair. Go get another drink."

Shanks stumbled away, grumbling. You turned toward Mihawk, but before you could speak he grabbed your arms and stared you straight in the eyes. "Don't ever scream like that again unless you're being raped or murdered, understand?"

"Umm... Y-Yes. I understand."

"Do you have any idea...," he looked down and his hat hid his eyes. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was?"

You blinked in confusion. "W-What?"

"I said," he looked back up at you, emotion burning in his golden eyes. "Do you know how much you scared me?"

"Mihawk, why would..." Your words trailed off, and his grip on your arms got tighter.

Mihawk was almost twice your age. But you didn't really care. As a matter of fact, the question of age was blown completely away the second his lips touched yours. One hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body against his.

You practically melted against him, his arm the only thing that kept you on your feet. His kiss was surprisingly gentle.

Mihawk pulled away and turned his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." You shushed him and turned his head back toward you.

"Don't you dare." You said, before kissing him again. He stiffened, and for a second you thought he'd pull away. Then his arms pulled you close and he was kissing you again, one hand pushing up your shirt and rubbing up the bare skin of your back.

When you finally had to pull away for air, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours. "(Y/N)?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

You looked into his beautiful eyes and saw nothing but love. He wouldn't touch you if you didn't want him to. Smiling, you said, "Yes."


Shanks staggered, surprisingly quietly, into Mihawk's tent, late at night. He settled down behind the swordsman and pressed against him, laying his one remaining arm over him.

You looked over Mihawk at Shanks and grinned. "Hey Shanks." You whispered.

"Hey, (Y/N)."

Come morning, Mihawk found himself sandwiched between you and Shanks. "Red-Hair." He growled.

"Yeess?"

"Don't make me kill you."

"Well, that would wake up (Y/N), sooo..."

Mihawk growled, resigning himself to Shanks' cuddles, and the one-armed man grinned, happy.

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