Mihawk had allowed you to stay at his castle after your boat had wrecked on his shores. After a while you were attracted to him, he could tell. The way you’d pander to him, you dressed to try and impress him, and you’d follow him around. Mihawk never indulged your fantasies, he believed he was too old to be with a young woman such as yourself.

Now here you were, standing in front of him, his grand piano still ringing as he struck the last cord. You in one of his soft bathrobes, the black contrasting your skin wonderfully. How much longer could he try resisting you?