Chapter Text
sir crocodile is in one of his nasty moods yet again.
everybody is tiptoeing around him, the air around him tense and prickly, dry even, like he was threatening to dehydrate the next person willing to tick him off even in the slightest bit. things apparently haven’t been going very well with the finances and paperwork as of late, and there’s a few complications going on -calculating all those numbers is never an easy job.
and who’s really the only capable and trustworthy person with handling all this money handling? crocodile himself.
everyday his blood seems to be boiling, the heat on the end of his cigar burning brighter than ever, as he runs the tobacco through even more so than usual, until his office is brimming with fog and the entire area is smoke-filled. veins pop out on his forehead and his blood pressure runs high. all that stress, coupled with the restless sleep he’s been getting as of late, it’s all just been piling up.
at this point, one wrong look and crocodile would flip the goddamn table.
you are the only one he treats relatively normally. that’s only because you interact with him as you usually do, having no sense of intimidation or fear of the man. you do what you can to help ease some of the stress, but there’s a limit to what you can do for him during the day.
buggy is being extra careful as of late. and as he should, since he's the one most vulnerable to being lashed out against.
“this atmosphere is unbearable, truly,” mihawk sighs, walking into the room where crocodile had been telling off a few of buggy’s cronies for spending an unnecessary amount of money into building another useless piece of merchandise of their beloved clown captain.
“if you cannot control your anger, perhaps you should take a step away and cool yourself down a bit, crocodile.”
“... who do you think you’re trying to lecture, hawk eyes?” crocodile glares down at the man with simmering contempt, almost boiling over.
“i’m not lecturing you. it’s simply some advice.”
“i don’t need your pissant advice right now. read the room.”
“forget it,” mihawk sighs, “it feels like i’m speaking to a wall.”
crocodile lunges at him with his hook, and mihawk blocks it swiftly with his sword. the clash causes the men nearby to get blown away, tumbling against the floor like rocks.
you observe the two of them from afar. it’s natural for disagreements to occur, when pirates of equal strength are involved in an alliance. crocodile may seem like a composed man, but he can get rather hot headed. a pirate at heart, despite appearances.
after a few more exchanges, they somehow manage to avoid murdering each other, and the day concludes with an even heavier atmosphere than before. everyone watches crocodile return to his bedroom from the corners of their eyes, and breathe a sigh of relief once his door clicks shut.
“isn’t there anything we can do about this? it’s getting scary…” the men whisper.
you wordlessly stand up and walk over to his room shortly after. everyone looks on in fear, but you enter so casually, almost like you weren’t doing something incredibly risky right now. they swallow dryly and pray for your success.
when you enter the room, crocodile is sitting on the edge of his bed and loosening his scarf. he isn’t shocked or surprised by your appearance, he merely raises an eyebrow, with his tired features.
“what are you doing here?” he asks.
“i want to sleep here tonight,” you tell him, slipping inside his bed without waiting for an answer.
he sighs, running his hand through his hair.
“i don’t know what you’re up to, but i’m not in the mood right now. go back to your own room.”
“i won’t cause trouble. just here to sleep,” you insist, putting the covers over yourself.
crocodile opens his mouth again, but decides he doesn’t have the energy to argue with you too. if you’re just going to sleep next to him, then so be it. it’s not like it’s the first time.
the lamp is turned off soon, and he slips himself into bed as well. but soon after, you shuffle closer to him and position yourself so that his head is closer to your chest and he is face to face with it.
“oi..! i thought you said you’d behave-” he attempts at pushing you away with an irritated tone.
“yeah? i haven’t done anything have i? we’ll just sleep like this.”
your arm slips under his neck and you’re rubbing his back up and down in a slow pace, like you were comforting him.
“tsk. treating me like i’m… a child…” crocodile grimaces, but the scent of you hits him like a sleep spell, and his heavy eyelids close up on him.
“mhm. now goodnight…”
moments later, he is already sound asleep. his arm clutches around your waist, completely betraying him and his earlier resistance. you cuddle him in this manner, spooning him for the first time, as you give a small kiss to his forehead while he sleeps.
the next morning arrives without as much as another peep from the man.
you’re the first to awake, but you stare at the sun outside the window and refuse to stir him in your arms. he sleeps soundly with an angel-like face, nothing like his constant scowl he has on nowadays. you’re almost afraid to move, fearing it might wake him from his slumber. like a big cat in your lap.
in a few hours’ time, around 10AM, he begins to slowly arise. still a little drowsy, his eyes open up gradually and take in the sunlight in the room, and he realises he is still nestled up against your body in bed. crocodile meets your gaze and blinks groggily. seeing your smile first thing in the morning isn’t what he was expecting. but you’re always exceeding his expectations– nothing new there. he’s been getting better at admitting that you are, in fact, good for his mood. at least, internally.
“what time is it?” he asks with a croaky voice.
“a little over ten. how about starting with a ‘good morning’ next time?” you suggest, brushing some of his strands of hair behind his ear. you have no sense of fear around him… with your silly remarks.
“you should’ve woken me up. there’s still much to do,” crocodile grimaces, beginning to sit up now.
“i know. i’ve told them to start without you. keep things spick and span while the boss is out for a few extra hours,” you wink at him.
“... someone came inside here?”
“i let them know in advance last night. silly man,” you laugh. so paranoid of someone possibly seeing him cradled up in your arms.
“enough of your jest. i’m gonna shower first. help me get dressed after,” crocodile tells you in an almost demanding manner.
“i know you can dress yourself. why ask for my help?” you question teasingly.
“it would be faster. that’s all,” he replies, standing up outside of bed. you leave it at that, and relax in bed while you wait for the man to complete his shower.
not too long after, he comes back out with only a towel covering his lower half.
he actually does most of the dressing himself, one handed or not. what he was expecting you to help him with were the finishing touches. you had peered at him more than just a couple of times, while he got himself ready in front of the mirror, enamoured by his morning routine. staring, even.
“while i appreciate your admiration, i think you should be less transparent next time,” crocodile interrupts you, a small smirk on his face.
there’s always something oddly intimate about having you do up some of his clothes, or his shoes for him. it feels different. it doesn’t feel like this when he gets daz to do it. his heart doesn’t swell like it does for you, nor does he feel affectionate towards the way he is touched so gently. while these thoughts are on his mind, he grabs a cigar and lights the end of it before going over to where you were.
crocodile has you do more for him than he actually needs.
your dainty fingers do up one button at a time from bottom to top for his dress shirt. when you slowly reach the very top button at last, he finds himself face to face with you, while he leers down at your pretty little face, concentrating on perfecting his shirt. when you fix his collar, his eyes fall down on your smiling lips, the warmth of your hands radiating softly into the skin of his neck. it’s strange. most people would go from top to bottom, wouldn’t they? perhaps you do it on purpose. he doesn’t bother asking.
next, comes his belt.
you bring it over to him, and slide the leather strap through the multitude of loops around the waistband of his pants. afterwards, you sit yourself down on the edge of his bed and pull him closer towards you by holding onto both ends of the belt, cheekily so. the smell of tobacco arises in the room, seeping into the air slowly.
you’ve already memorised the number of holes you need to count to match crocodile’s preferred tightness for his belt. one, two, three, four. he has a rather slim waist despite his stature. while you finish up doing his belt, he hums to himself, thinking how your hands have the perfect balance of tenderness and strength.
you give his pants a light tug to test the tightness.
“does this feel alright?”
he takes a drag from his cigar and blows out the smoke downwards, surrounding you with it. but you don’t bat an eye, being too used to this action.
“...yeah. good,” he stoically admits.
he walks away to put his checkered purple vest on, going on top of his dress shirt. he brings back the orange scarf for you to do. you stand up from the bed and gracefully drape the clothing piece around the back of his neck before shaping it nicely at the front, tucking it underneath the vest in a neat way. you feel the prickle of his intense gaze on you while you do this.
“is it your turn to admire? i feel all tingly from the way you’re staring at me,” you comment, hands patting down against his chest as a finale. dress-up complete.
“you’re late to notice. i’ve been doing so for a while now.”
crocodile turns around to head over to where his hook is, to finally put it back on for the day. can’t go on without the replacement for his left hand. it gleams dangerously, having been polished to perfection. he clicks it back on, and soon returns to your side.
“ready to get back to work?”
“odd wording choice to use against your boss. don’t get cheeky with me,” crocodile grabs your face with his large hand, covering a large majority of it.
your eyes look up at him with endearment, not intimidation. not that he was expecting you to cower in the first place.
he sighs and drags his fingers down, sliding his calloused hand down to your neck, giving you a firm grip. you know what’s coming, as you take the cigar away from his mouth to hold it momentarily between your fingers. once his lips are free, he leans forward to give you a smoke-filled kiss, leaving behind the familiar, bitter taste in your mouth that you always find so addictive.
“a small thanks for dressing me up,” he voices, biting back the cigar from your fingers.
you lick your lips lightly, savouring the taste of him.
“my pleasure. but we’re not done yet. aren’t you missing something?” you tell him, pointing at his shoulders. his coat, of course.
you head over to his closet and open it up dramatically.
“which one will it be today?”
“...why don’t you choose for me?”
“hmmm…” you hold your chin, making a thinking pose. he’s got quite the large selection.
“i think this black one will do you good.”
“up to you.”
you grab the dense thing and drape it on his shoulders, adjusting it’s symmetry on his body. he looks finalised now.
“i have my own set of tasks to do today, because my boss always keeps me so busy…” you enunciate, still holding onto both sides of his coat, “so i probably won’t see you again til’ late tonight.”
“that’s a real shame. but you should listen to your boss well. i’m sure he’s got a lot on his plate right now,” he laughs dryly.
“i know. and i am,” you click your tongue, giving his coat a firm tug. sometimes you think you’re being too nice.
“anyways. see you later. i’ll be using your shower,” you wave, leaving him behind.
he watches you enter his bathroom with a sultry smirk, and soon leaves his chambers to head over to his office.
on his way there, he notices a few extra glances from the surrounding bustling men who all quietly disperse out of his path to avoid crossing him. a bunch of cowards, he thinks to himself. just a little outburst yesterday and that’s all it takes to terrify them? it wasn’t that bad. they haven't even seen half of it.
unbeknownst to crocodile himself, these men were gawking simply because they were in awe of the sheer difference of his appearance from yesterday. the overworked, highly stressed man had disappeared. this morning, the boss seems to have a soft glow surrounding him.
even mihawk’s eyes seemingly wander towards the duality of this man.
“what?” crocodile emphasises, beginning to get annoyed at the stares that bore into him today.
“...it’s nothing,” mihawk states, crossing his arms. he never thought he’d live to see the day that a man like sir crocodile be appeased so easily just in one night. one might wonder what exactly you did behind those closed doors.
the day, surprisingly, goes by without any mishaps. the slow morning melded into the afternoon, and then the afternoon melded into the evening. currently, the only thing missing in this fine night was you. it’s as late as 11PM, and you’re still nowhere to be found.
out in the open lounge area, crocodile alone awaits your return, smoking quietly with his legs crossed on this bright red sofa. the lights are dimmed. the once noisy area is devoid of any activity. it leaves him alone with his own thoughts. he begins to feel tired again.
he feels like he might’ve zoned out for a few moments here and there, maybe even falling asleep a few seconds at a time. time becomes a blurred concept.
“still haven’t retired for the night, my dear boss?”
your voice wakes him up like a jolt of electricity. he languidly turns his head to look your way, as you reveal yourself from the shadows.
“you took your sweet time. something happen?” crocodile asks, cocking his head lazily to the side as you approach behind to sit against the edge of the couch.
“there were some set backs. but i dealt with it in the end,” you give a half-assed report. you’ve never been one for these kinds of formalities. he’d harass anybody else, if they dared give report in this manner. but this is you, so he lets it slide. for now.
“you seem tired," he comments.
“do i? maybe it’s best we retreat to our beds for the night then,” you stand back up and give a great yawn.
crocodile also gets up off the couch and stands in front of you.
“goodnight,” you wave, expecting him to head off first for his room.
instead, he appears to fall silent and looks upon you with great displeasure.
“not coming over tonight?” he asks.
“...is that why you’d been waiting here all this time?”
“you’re the one who said you’d see me again later.”
“it’s alright to be honest for once, you know. just say you slept very well with me last night. and that you want to do it again.”
“shut it. are you coming or not?” crocodile grimaces, taking the lead and beginning to walk away from you.
“i am. if you’ll carry me there, that is,” you smirk, holding your arms out, like you were expecting a hug.
“...you’re really pushing your luck this time. i refuse,” he grunts, turning back around with his hand in his pocket.
“i suppose we’ll go our separate ways here, then… goodnight,” you say nonchalantly, stepping off in the opposite direction, dramatically sighing with sadness.
crocodile considers dragging you back by your ankle. annoyed, he whips around to see that you’re already walking away from him. the insolence. you’re acting out because he lets you off easy all the time.
quick and determined footsteps resound behind, which startles even someone like you, and you’re suddenly swept off of your feet, having to scramble a bit to keep your upper body upright against the larger man, who has you held up pressed towards him with one arm– with the deepest scowl embedded into his face.
“you aggravate me. tread carefully, i might as well drown you in quicksand next time,” he warns you with a low voice.
you lightly kick your feet in the air, giggling. he doesn’t exactly dodge you when you nuzzle your face against his. though he displays a face of irritation.
“you know i do it because i love you. and by the looks of it, you love me too.”
crocodile lets out an exasperated noise, and begins to bring you over to his room.
he very much chucks you into his bed not so gently-- but you managed to make the warlord himself carry you all the way here, which is an admirable feat in itself. can’t complain about a little roughhousing.
when your head hits the pillow and crocodile drags you towards his chest, you are instantly overwhelmed by the drowsiness.
it might’ve been part of your dreams, but you felt as though you received a few forehead kisses throughout the night. but that’s not something you dare ask about, when the next morning comes around.