#soft crocodile

[hannahbarberra162]

Sir Crocodile and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

18+ MDNI

As picked by readers! Ace nonnies, I see you. I'll write the childhood friend reader x Ace story too.

On Ao3 in French

One shot, Reader x Sir Crocodile, fluffy

Word count: ~6k

Synopsis: Crocodile dreads the one day a year you take off of work, your birthday. As his incredible personal assistant, he depends on you for almost everything. Like every year, a day without you is a complete disaster. But maybe there is something he can salvage from the wreckage. Something - or someone - he's wanted for a very long time.

Sir Crocodile tapped the flat of his hook against the date circled on his desk calendar. Tomorrow was his absolute least favorite day of the entire year. You took off only one day annually, your birthday. Sure, you nominally had weekends off as well. But something always came up and you spent at least half a day dealing with his business or personal matters every weekend.

He didn’t begrudge you having your birthday to yourself - you were incredibly diligent and deserved it. But without you around, everything seemed to fall to shambles within minutes. You were by far the best personal assistant he’d ever had. Maybe even the best employee he’d ever had, even among his cohort of Devil Fruit powered henchmen who killed for him indiscriminately. Of course, he knew that if he called you on your baby den den mushi, you’d answer and do whatever he needed. But he would feel guilty for disturbing you . And guilt was an emotion Crocodile had only felt once and never wanted to again. No, he’d make due without you tomorrow and let you enjoy your day off. 

Though he was not kind to - or even close to - his Baroque Works crew, Crocodile was considered a top tier employer in Rainbase Lake. Once he found someone who was good at their profession, he tried his best to keep them in his employ. He treated his personal staff with respect, paid very well, and had set guidelines for employees to follow. Henchmen could be replaced, bloodthirsty pirates were a dime a dozen. Reliable and high quality housekeepers, chefs, and assistants? Priceless. 

And you were the most reliable, most organized, most level headed, most meticulous, and most industrious employee he’d ever had. At first, he suspected you of being a devil fruit user. That would explain how you managed to get everything done correctly, on time, and make it seem easy. However, he quickly realized that you were just that good . But you weren’t single mindedly following his orders all the time, like some of his stooges. You didn’t wait for him to tell you things he needed or tasks he wanted done, you thought for yourself and anticipated his needs. You weren’t a yes man, you would voice your opinion if he asked for it. He valued your insight and operations driven mind. In fact, during the years you’d been working for Crocodile, you’d only ever argued once. And it wasn’t even an argument, really. Crocodile had started growing a mustache, he thought it added some regality to his face. You hated it and told him that it didn’t suit his features. You were right, of course. He’d allowed you to shave it off yourself, much to your delight.

Even without it being your day off, Crocodile always remembered your birthday. Yours was the only one, besides his own, that he had ever bothered to recall. He had many lovers who assumed the thoughtful and romantic gifts they received on their birthdays, anniversaries, and “just because” came from him. But the truth was that all his lovers were in a relationship with you. You remembered all the small details and arranged everything to his lover’s tastes. Crocodile didn’t even try to remember their names, calling them all “Doll” to save himself the hassle. He even thought of them that way - interchangeable, easily replaced, silly but ultimately worthless playthings. But you could tell him their favorite flowers, preferred gemstones, clothing style, shoe size, and any other tidbit of information he’d ever want. You had sent hundreds of gifts on his behalf and had never gotten anything wrong. As a result, Crocodile had a reputation for being a true romantic, someone who listened when his paramours told him personal details. He couldn’t care less. 

He stopped over at your desk as you finished out your day, bringing a small gift bag with him hanging off his hook. 

“Happy birthday,” he said in his low tone, handing you the present.

“What a pleasant surprise, Sir,” you said, removing it and opening it immediately. It was a potted white rhino agave succulent that he had bought without your assistance. It was expensive and rare, but you were worth every penny he ever spent on you.

“Oh, how thoughtful! Thank you so much, Sir!” You beamed at him. To some, it would have looked like a poor gift, but Crocodile knew you well. You didn’t care for cut flowers or most trinkets. You were passionate about cacti and succulents, spending some of your time away from him caring for the plants. You had an impressive collection, one that Crocodile added to as the occasion arose. You got up from behind your desk, walked around to him, and stood on your tiptoes. Crocodile brought himself down to your height and you kissed his cheek in gratitude. 

“What a wonderful send off, Sir. I will see you the day after tomorrow. Please, if there is an emergency, do not hesitate to call.” Crocodile smiled at you and leaned against your desk. Crocodile knew you meant nothing untoward by the kiss, it was platonic affection. But he enjoyed the feeling nonetheless. He looked forward to it annually.

“Enjoy your day off.” He wouldn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“Thank you, Sir.” With that, you carefully carried your plant and left the office. Crocodile watched you leave then scowled once you’d left. It would be a long 24 hours without you.

~~~

The next morning began poorly right from the start. Crocodile awoke late, his alarm clock hadn’t gone off. He blasted it with sand, destroying it completely. He was annoyed already. Normally you woke him gently before his alarm clock did, but you weren’t here today. He found waking to your soft voice and calm face a soothing way to start his day. Crocodile rose from his bed and went to his clothes valet, only to find it empty. He wanted to destroy that as well, but he decided he shouldn’t demolish everything that irritated him today. He’d have nothing left and besides, it would be more work for you to replace everything. You usually hung his clothes for him after pressing them yourself, and he rarely saw the need to adjust your choices. You knew what he liked and how he liked to present himself down to the cufflinks on his shirt sleeves. Crocodile stalked to his large walk in closet and looked through the well organized racks of clothing. It had been one year since he’d had to do this himself and he hadn’t missed the chore. 

He selected an outfit and looked at himself in the mirror. The outfit lacked a certain elegance that you were able to assemble effortlessly. He adjusted his hook - it looked dull. You always polished it for him until it gleamed.  It would have to do, he was already late for a meeting he had called. He left his bedroom for the dining room, looking for his cafe corto. There was a carafe of drip coffee waiting on the table, but no espresso. There was also an impressive tray of sweet pastries. You knew Crocodile wanted a cafe corto first, then drip coffee, cigar, no food. Was it so hard to replicate everything you did for just one day? Could no amount of staff compete with one small woman? Crocodile rang for a servant and asked for the espresso. He was brought an Americano. He sighed and rubbed his temples with his hand. 

The day went downhill from there. You had prepared for your absence during the day, leaving notes and organizing what you could anticipate. Crocodile had another staff member on the den den, fielding calls you’d normally take. But even with your absent help, it was a complete disaster. Crocodile was used to you taking notes for him during meetings, he had forgotten to bring a pen and paper to the board room. By the end of the meeting, he’d forgotten half of the numbers from the quarterly presentation. Everything seemed to need your touch, your help, your forethought to run smoothly. 

Things went from bad to worse. Meetings went off topic, reports had incorrect data, enemies were left untortured, and he’d forgotten to feed the bananawanis on time. Word spread quickly that Crocodile was in a bad mood. Everyone knew the reason why, but no one dared to breathe a word about it. Despite his earlier wishful thinking, the boardroom table now had several hook sized holes in it and his office was covered in sand. He leaned back in his chair and took a deep pull on his cigar. You would have already had everything arranged to soothe his anger.

It wasn’t even all the small matters during the business day that you arranged. You were adept at anticipating his needs before he even realized he wanted something, and arranging his life to one befitting someone of his station. You understood him better than perhaps anyone else. Yes, Miss All Sunday managed Rain Dinners, but you managed Crocodile. 

He sat and recalled one of the times when he’d called you in the middle of the night. He did try not to disturb your rest, but sometimes it needed to be done. One such occasion was when he’d invited Dracule Mihawk to his residence. They had been talking - and drinking - late into the night. In the early hours of the morning he rang you to ask for some food to accompany their wine. 

“Hello Sir, how may I assist you?” your voice had been sleepy, he saw his snail answering bleary eyed but still with a smile.

“I apologize for the late night call. I’d like some refreshments.”

“Of course sir,” the snail looked over at something. “It is now 2:50 AM. I had your favored refreshments scheduled to be delivered at 3:00 AM. Would you prefer to wait ten minutes or would you rather I bring you something immediately?” You weren’t being facetious, Crocodile knew if he asked, you’d have food for him by 2:59 come hell or highwater. 

“3:00 is fine, thank you.”

“I hope you can forgive my impertinence, Sir - I also included some refreshments that may be more to your guest’s liking.” Mihawk raised a single eyebrow. 

“Very thoughtful. Good night.”

“Good night, Sir.”

And sure enough, at 3:00 AM on the dot, a tray of Crocodile’s favorite foods to pair with heavy drinking were delivered by a tired looking waiter. Crocodile served himself some fresh dumplings and offered the tray to Mihawk. Mihawk declined, as he was sampling the gambas al ajillo and jamon.

“Quite the assistant you have,” Mihawk said, a glimmer of intrigue ghosting over his face. “The dishes are excellent, send her my thanks.” Mihawk inclined his head to Crocodile. Crocodile smirked, you had made him proud. 

Breaking his walk down memory lane, he heard the den den mushi ring for what felt like the millionth time that day. Miss Merry Christmas picked up the receiver. He could hear half of the conversation.

“Hello? No, she’s not in today, it’s her birthday. I don’t think you’ll want to - are you sure - let me see,” Miss Merry Christmas looked at Crocodile in his office and yelled through the open door “it’s Doflamingo, do you want to take it?”

Crocodile wanted to kill her on the spot. His sand was already swirling behind him. She had told Doflamingo of all people that it was your birthday. After Crocodile had started taking you to Warlord meetings, the flashy fool had been trying to get you to move to Dressrosa and work for him. Crocodile wasn’t worried about you leaving him for another employer. The thought just sat heavily in his mind and caused him immense anger when he imagined you spending time with Doflamingo. But that wasn’t the same as jealousy. Crocodile would never be jealous over an employee. Even one as smart and lucious as yourself.

Furthermore, Miss About To Be Impaled had asked if he wanted to take the call. Now Doffy knew he was there and had to take the call or else risk a tantrum from the spoiled King. He stalked over to the snail, who was looking quite smug.

“What.”

“So it’s her birthday today, mmh? I’ll have to send something nice, maybe some lingerie…would you like some as well? Fufufufufufufu.” Crocodile hoped Vegapunk would soon invent a way to kill someone through a den den mushi. He’d deal with Doflamingo later, he was in no mood for the Dressrosa King’s idiotic love quests. He hung up softly, gently patting the snail on the back with his flesh hand. The snail survived because he’d killed one once in anger after such a call and it had upset you. Crocodile didn’t like when you were upset. You’d even cried over the snail and Crocodile had felt guilty. He had liked that even less. 

He needed a drink.

~~~

Crocodile left his office for the restaurant portion of Rain Dinners. He had a splitting headache and nearly called out your name to ask for your assistance. Every year your birthday made him realize how heavily he depended on you, so every year he increased your salary the following day. He made a mental note to do the same again tomorrow. 

Crocodile sat in his favorite booth, smoked his cigar, and drank his whiskey neat. The bartenders here were competent and didn’t need to be told what he wanted to drink. He was thinking over some of the reports brought to him by his minions when he spotted you, alone, drinking a glass of wine at the bar. Crocodile was surprised - drinking alone, on your big day? Crocodile knew you had a romantic relationship that predated your employment to him. Crocodile had never liked your partner, but you seemed happy enough. He didn’t understand why someone of your caliber, of your intelligence and beauty was with such a loser, but for your sake he hadn’t killed him. 

Crocodile gathered himself and headed straight to you at the bar. The crowd parted for him easily, with many trying to capture his attention. Some of his Dolls tried to touch his arm or talk to him but he didn’t even spare them a glance. Coming up to your side, you looked up at him and smiled weakly. 

“Good evening, Sir.” You looked absolutely ravishing, just as gorgeous as the day he met you. Normally you wore simple but well tailored clothing to work. It hadn’t stopped his imagination from running wild when you wore your pencil skirts or your slightly lower cut tops. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d wanted to free your hair from its style and run his fingers through it. Or the times he’d wanted to rip through your skirt and pound into you when you leaned over his desk. He’d entertained the thought of seducing you many times, but ultimately he respected you too much to do so. He didn’t want to interfere if you were already in a relationship, as pathetic as your choice was. Besides, he didn’t know what he would do without you if his interest was unreciprocated and you left. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility.

Today you were more dressed up fancier than usual, your striking figure in an elegant black dress that bared your back provocatively. He stifled his impulse to run his hook down your spine to see if it made you shiver. Pulling his thoughts back to you, he noticed your eyes were slightly red and puffy. He put his large hand on your shoulder.

“What happened to that… person …you usually spend time with?” He couldn’t call that boy a man, let alone a boyfriend. He was lucky Crocodile remembered his existence. And continued to allow it.

“We aren’t together anymore, Sir.” Your eyes watered. Crocodile sat in the seat next to yours.

“Did you break up tonight?” Crocodile spoke softly, not wanting to embarrass you or upset you further.

“Yes, Sir.” You looked down at your glass of wine, swirling the drink gently.

“Would you like him killed?” Crocodile could have sworn his hook was twitching. He could think of no better ending to the evening. Maybe that would save this terrible day.

“No thank you, Sir.” You didn’t have the same penchant for violence and bloodlust that he did. Crocodile didn’t mind. He didn’t care for succulents all that much. You could have different hobbies and still work well with one another. “You don’t have to waste your time consoling me, Sir. I would like you to enjoy your evening. A few of your lovers are here, if you’d like me to remind you of their names.”

Crocodile scoffed. “As you know, I am always doing what I want to be doing.” You nodded. As if he would forgo time with you for some nameless woman.

“Where did he work again?” Crocodile was going to have him tracked down, just for….fun. 

“He’s the general manager of ‘Fantasia,” you replied, your mouth dipping into a frown. It was a rival casino, though not even in the top three in Rainbase Lake. “He said I am too involved with my career, that I didn’t spend enough time away from work. That my life revolves around yours.” You looked up, repentant already. “I apologize, Sir. You didn’t ask for details.” Crocodile waved your concerns away. He enjoyed it when you shared your feelings and opinions. Crocodile took the flat of his hook and put it under your chin, raising your face to look at his own. A tear tracked down your face.

“Some people do not understand dedication. Loyalty. Duty. Passion.” 

“Passion, Sir?” Your face slightly flushed from the wine - or perhaps the intimate contact. Crocodile belatedly realized his misstep. He hadn’t meant to reveal his desire, especially when you were already upset. He reluctantly removed his hook from beneath your pretty face. 

“Would you like me to escort you home?” Crocodile changed the conversation in case you’d been uncomfortable. 

“Yes, thank you Sir” you looked surprised at his offer and that you yourself had taken him up on it. Naturally he wanted to ensure his favorite employee was home safely. He had never done this for anyone else but that didn’t mean anything. It certainly had nothing to do with your sadness and vulnerability.  He offered you his hand and you gingerly stepped down from your bar stool. Crocodile guided you to the door with his hook on your bare back. He looked closely and found himself right, you had gotten goosebumps.

The two of you walked through the darkened town in silence, enjoying the pleasant weather. That was something else Crocodile appreciated about you - you didn’t feel the need to fill a stillness with meaningless chatter. The longer the walk took, the less pleased Crocodile became. He paid you very well, why weren’t you living in the luxurious part of the town? You turned street corners until you ended at a shabby looking apartment building and stood in the doorway. Crocodile would rather have burned it to the ground before he set foot in it. 

“This is where I live Sir, thank you for accompanying me.” Crocodile looked at the crumbling brick building once again. 

“Why?” Crocodile bit out. He had nearly chomped his cigar in half.

“I beg your pardon, Sir?” you looked confused at his question.

“Why do you live here? I pay you well, I know you can afford better living conditions.” Your face flushed. 

“You need not concern yourself, Sir. The situation has resolved itself.” Crocodile narrowed his eyes. So it was related to the boy. Had you been paying off some of his gambling debt? He had that look about him. Crocodile knew it well, he owned a casino and had seen that type of fool thousands of times. That wouldn’t do and neither would your current living situation. 

“Indeed. You’ll be moving into my mansion.” Crocodile was pleased with this outcome. He hadn’t liked you living so far from him. He always had a security detail following you when you weren’t with him, but it never felt like enough. With the level of intimate knowledge you had about Crocodile and his businesses, he was always concerned that you’d be kidnapped or tortured. Truthfully, if he admitted it to himself, he worried. Another feeling he didn’t like. No, this would work out perfectly. He wouldn’t have to be distracted by thoughts of your well being and you’d be closer to him at all times. 

“Sir, that is…not appropriate,” you demurred. He hadn’t thought of the implication of moving you in, but in this case he wasn’t thinking with his lower head.

“Nonsense. You’ll have the entire East Wing to yourself. Decorate it as you see fit, I’ll provide you a housing stipend. I will wait here for five minutes. Gather what you will need for the night. Daz will collect the rest of your belongings tomorrow.”

“Sir, is this really -” you had crossed your arms across your lovely chest.

“The countdown has begun.” His will was set in stone, not even your annoyance could sway him. You sighed, rolled your eyes, and walked into the building briskly. Perhaps one good thing had come from this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

~~~

Crocodile was immensely happy with the outcome of his decision. He felt at rest knowing he could protect you and keep you safe from those who would seek to gain power over him. Or worse yet, other magnates trying to scout your services for their own. He’d caught Mihawk speaking to you quietly after the last Warlord meeting, and you laughed at something he’d said. He wouldn’t stop you from having conversation with the Swordsman, but he didn’t like it. He knew even Sengoku had tried his hand at recruiting you for the Marines. You turned down every offer and stayed with Crocodile. He wasn’t worried about your loyalty, but Crocodile didn’t like the attention you received from others. You were his personal assistant and Crocodile had never shared well. 

He did try to give you your space and allow you your own personal life within the mansion. He didn’t want to control you, he knew you were your own woman. But since you now shared the same (gigantic) mansion, he did occasionally see you outside of your working hours. He saw you strolling in the gardens, tending to your plants, watching the stars from the balcony. When you weren’t working, you dressed more casually, allowing Crocodile to see more of your body. It did not help that you only referred to him as “Sir,” even outside of work. He had long fantasized about your sultry voice saying “yes, sir” and “no, sir,” in a more intimate setting. He’d tried it with many of his Dolls, but none of them could get it right. Only your “yes, sir,” got his blood pumping. 

~~~

The longer you lived in his mansion, the more suspicious Crocodile became of the nature of your feelings towards him. Crocodile wasn’t one to directly ask, but you seemed to have some feelings that crept out every now and again. Once, he’d asked you to help a Doll leave the morning after a stay in his bedroom and you outright refused. It was the first time that you’d ever refused a task he’d asked of you. And you hadn’t backed down. You said it was outside the scope of your duties, but that you’d send a housekeeper. If Crocodile had to put an emotion to your tone, it would have been jealousy. Other times, he had caught you staring at him, and blushing and averting your gaze when caught. You’d worked together for years, but with the closer proximity and your newly single status, perhaps your feelings were changing. Crocodile wanted to test his theory. One day, when your pencil skirt was particularly tight, he called you into his home office. He was leaning back in his chair, smoking a cigar as usual, papers on his desk. 

“Yes, sir?” you stood at the entrance to the office.

“Come in, I don’t bite.” You immediately moved closer to his desk, slight confusion on your face. Normally he tried to speak to you as professionally as possible, and you immediately noted the change in his language. “Take a look at the latest figures from Rain Dinners. I know the calculations are correct, but something is missing.” You came over to his side of the desk and bent over to read, like you’d done so many times before. But this time, he rested his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t say anything, but he heard you suck in a breath. Interesting. You spent a moment flipping back and forth between the pages.

“I see the issue, Sir,” you said, still bent over. Crocodile stood up and bent over next to you, caging you in with one arm. “I apologize. You are missing a page of the report,” you were blushing furiously but continued “I will g-get you a better copy.” You were flustered.  

“Thank you, that’s all,” Crocodile breathed into the shell of your ear. You shuddered from the close contact. Crocodile sat back in his chair, releasing you. You practically ran from the room, face as red as if you’d spent it in the Alabastan desert. Very interesting.

~~~

Crocodile wanted to set clear boundaries and to have affirmative consent from you before he did anything. He respected you as a person and if you were to turn him down, he would still want to keep you as an employee. He called for you one late evening. You arrived promptly, though in more casual clothing since it was outside of your business hours. You were wearing a mid length sundress with a blue flower pattern. It accentuated everything Crocodile liked about your figure. Perfection.

“How may I help you, Sir?” Polite as always. 

“Come here,” Crocodile beckoned you with one extended finger. You stood in front of him expectantly. He carefully wound his hook around your waist and pulled you closer, directly in front of his seated form. “Better.” He removed his hook. 

“Do you enjoy working for me?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Of course, Sir. This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

“Do you remember the day that I hired you?” Crocodile was dragging on his cigar, allowing the smoke to billow out of his mouth. Simultaneously, he was polishing his hook with a cloth. He knew he struck an imposing figure.

“Yes, Sir.” You were transfixed by the sight of the golden hook, gleaming in the dimming light. 

“Do you remember our conversation about the bananawanis?” You tore your eyes away from his hook.

“Yes, Sir. One of the conditions of employment was being comfortable with bananawanis. You asked if I had any concerns in caring for them.” You were getting nervous, unsure of what the purpose of the conversation was.

“Do you remember what you told me?” Crocodile grinned his unnerving smile.

“Yes, Sir. That they are apex predators, they need to be treated with care and respect. If you accept your place beneath them, they can be affectionate and sweet. And that,” you looked him in the eyes, “I doubted they were the most dangerous creatures on the premises.”

“Do you still believe that to be true?” Crocodile rose to his full height, towering over you. You looked up at him. You looked on edge but not scared.

“Yes, Sir.” 

“And what might you say about a more dangerous creature?” He spoke low, looking down at your reddening face. He wound his hook slowly around the back of your neck, giving you time to move away. You didn’t move except to shiver.

“Ah, likely the same Sir. That if I were to accept my position as subservient, I think most strong, ahm, creatures would be receptive.” Crocodile pulled on his hook gently, baring your neck to him. He bent down to your height, ghosting his lips on the exposed column of your neck.

“Speak now with your objections.” He was being truthful, any hesitation on your part and he would stop immediately. He was interested in willing submission, nothing else.

“Sir, I…admit I am so inclined but I worry about mixing business and passion .” Crocodile grinned at your statement, echoing his words from your birthday. So you’d been affected as well.

“If anything unpleasant happens between us, now or after, I assure you we will go back to our previous arrangement. You will not be fired nor face retribution. Do you find that acceptable?” He would rather lose his other hand than you. You nodded. 

“Yes, Sir.” You were looking at him with stars in your eyes.

“If I do something and you wish to end the experience, say ‘no.’ If you say ‘stop,’ I won’t. If you say ‘please,’ it will not move me, nor will any tears. If you say ‘no,’ I will immediately cease my actions. Do you understand?” You gulped.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What word will end anything that you do not wish to happen?” 

“If I say ‘no’ to you, Sir.”

“Very good. Take off your dress.” You looked nervous but your lips quirked up at the corners with his slight praise. He knew that you did your best when given approval. He sat back down in his chair and admired your elegance. You slowly brought down the straps to your dress, then removed your arms from within them. You weren’t wearing a bra, you’d deemed the dress sufficient. He had seen many strip teases from his Dolls, all perfectly crafted and practiced to make a man inflamed with want. Yours had no artifice, no guile, nothing calculated. And yet he found your performance much more sensual and alluring. He felt his cock stiffening more with each passing second. When your arms were free, you let your dress pool at your feet and stepped out of it. You stood still, awaiting his judgment.

“Absolutely stunning.” He stood up again, circling you slowly, letting the metal of his hook glide across your bared skin. He trailed it over your back, across the backs of your arms, across your collar bones as he went around you. Anywhere he dragged it raised goosebumps on your flesh. “You look even better than I have ever imagined.” You preened at his words. He continued to tease you with his hook. “Does it make you nervous when I stare at your beauty?”

“No, Sir.”

He finished drinking you in and sat down once again, only to spread his legs. “Come sit,” he said, voice smooth as silk. You unhesitatingly went over to him, breasts bouncing gently as you walked. You perched yourself sideways gracefully on his powerful thigh, waiting for his next command. You always did so well following his orders, after all. He put down his cigar and put it on your side, bringing you closer to him.

“Exquisite beyond compare.” Bringing his face down to yours, he twined his hand into the hair at the back of your head. He pulled, slanting your face upwards. You were panting softly. He searched your face for any hint of lingering doubt, but he only saw raw desire. He brought his lips to yours ever so slowly, creeping inch by inch, not yet kissing but oh so close. You tried to reach up for him with your mouth but his hand kept you from doing so. “No need to rush, I’m not going anywhere,” he said and bit the lobe of your ear gently. Crocodile didn’t have it in him to wait any longer to kiss you. He brought his lips to yours, opening his mouth. You gave him entry as his tongue explored your own. He kissed you at his leisurely pace, showing you who was in control. He was demanding and dominating and you were loving every moment. 

“Tell me, if I felt between your legs right now, would you be wet for me?” he asked as he kissed down your jaw. You flushed crimson but his hand in your hair prevented you from avoiding his gaze.

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Show me.” 

“Yes, Sir.” You spread your shaking thighs for him, revealing your soaked panties. He untangled his hand from your hair and walked a finger down your arm, down your stomach, down to your thighs. He reached around you and shredded the sides, destroying them and revealing your gleaming pussy. You gasped but didn’t move. He trailed a finger down your slit, not parting your lower lips but fingers still coming back glistening. 

“Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Y-yes, Sir,” you said, biting back a moan. 

“Would you like more?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.” Oh, you’d never added that little plea before. Crocodile felt himself getting even harder than he was before. Maybe one day he’d make you beg. But not today. 

“Ride my thigh, that’s how you’re getting off tonight.” He wanted to watch your face and enjoy the mess you made on his slacks. There’d be plenty of time for other fun. He shifted you so you were straddling his thigh.

“Yes, Sir,” he was pleased that you didn’t hesitate, that you were as interested in following as he was in ordering. You started gyrating on his huge thigh, making small whimpers, your hands on his shoulder for stability. He took the opportunity to cup your breast, kneading the mound between his fingers. Occasionally, he missed having two hands. This was one of those times, he wished he could feel both of your breasts at the same time. Instead, he raised his thigh so you were closer to him and dipped his head to lick and tease at your nipples. Your whimpers only increased. He kissed you all over your chest and neck, making sure to leave a few marks. Your head was thrown back, your eyes glazed as you sought your pleasure. Your whines were increasing in tempo and pitch, you were close. 

“Ask me for permission to come,” Crocodile drawled.

“Please, Sir, may I come?” you answered quickly, not stopping your movements. He wanted to reward you tonight. 

“Yes, you may.” You keened and bucked faster against his thigh, rocking your hips in small circles. He could tell the moment you came undone, he could feel your pussy spasm through his pants. He watched you ride out the high, face contorted in pleasure. He was close himself, but tonight was not for him. After finishing you needed a moment’s rest. You leaned your forehead against his chest, breathing heavily. A moment later, he picked you up and situated you on his other thigh.

“Good girl, how well you’ve done. Look at the mess you’ve made on me,” he said, motioning to the wet spot on his slacks. You reddened but still smiled at him as he enveloped you in his arms. He wrapped you in a nearby blanket off his couch, allowing you to collapse against his broad chest. He relit his cigar and sat peacefully smoking. His rock hard cock would wait for later.

“Thank you, Sir. May I ask you one question?”

“Of course.”

“Can we…do this again sometime?” You seemed unsure of yourself, but Crocodile smiled kindly at you.

“My dear, clear your schedule for the night. And the next. And for the foreseeable future. After all, I am nothing if not an affectionate and sweet creature.” 

[panrao]

Spoilers, it's dysphoria

[breakingpengui1]

breakfast with you

[humans-are-tasty]

[plush-with-love]

Source ~ Sorbet Jungle

Croconana

[shegetsburned]

no, but like, crocodile letting himself be vulnerable with his s/o.

in different ways, he discreetly shows he can be vulnerable with you and you only.

he’ll shower and take baths with you knowing he’s the weakest when he’s in contact with water.

he removes his hook when he prefers to be gentle with you, even though we all know he can be gentle with it as well. maybe it’s a way to show that you don’t have to be scared. i mean, at this point, he’s so used to people being terrified of him.

he lets you touch his scar, answering your many questions about them loving the curiosity in your gaze while listening. when you gently caress your thumb against the stitches along his cheeks and nose he can feel his heart pump faster.

just thinking about crocodile being cold but so loving at the same time. he can let his guard down whenever he’s with you. that’s what you mean to him. ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

[clockwayswrites]

I shared this on the dead on main server, but just for all of your brain itches also:

So there's Danny-suddenly a halfa- by definition both alive and dead. He is two things that are diametrically opposed. They cannot exist at the same time, so they don't.

Every time Danny goes ghost, he dies again. Each time the rings of light engulf him he has a moment again of being electrocuted to death. Phandom greatly enjoys giving Danny Lichtenberg scars, but electric shock has other common symptoms such as hearing loss, tremors, and seizures...

...all things Danny faces every time he comes back to life.

It takes them awhile to put it all together- that transforming and fighting makes it all worse- and by then Danny's been through rounds of medication for his seizures that do nothing and has a permanent level of hearing loss. (And Ancients does the hearing loss explain some of his troubles with school.)

Part of Danny is tempted, each and ever time, to stay a ghost where he doesn't feel the constant ache of pain and trembling muscles and muted world. Part of him is tempted to stay dead.

But he pulls through it. Things settle with the ghosts. Danny is able to hang up Phantom and being a hero and instead focusing on living. The seizures stop, the tremors and pain have good days and bad, Tucker helped him make some amazing hearing aides... he lives.

He gets an internship with the Wayne Foundation and their outreach helping children left permanently injured by the attacks in Gotham- inspired in part by Jason Todd-Wayne's own partial hearing loss from an explosion.

When they meet, neither of them quite know just how deeply the other person can understand what they've been through.

[fanaticsnail]

When We Wake

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,300+

Synopsis: Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

Themes: established relationship, sir Crocodile x reader, gn!reader - non gendered descriptors, suggested nudity, kisses, confessions of love, sir Crocodile is soft for you, romance, romantic imagery, morning kisses, lazy kisses.

Notes: @carrotsunshine wanted a lovestruck Crocodile to read when she finished work today. I had no choice, my hands were bound and I stayed up past midnight again getting it done. While Croco is not one of the regular characters to write for, I did find myself falling for him a little in this fic. @since-im-already-here suggested the song, because smol-snail is a queen. Was written on my phone.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita

Song: Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez, Em Beihold

Falling asleep, content within the arms of a lover is a luxury Sir Crocodile never knew he could afford. Although extremely wealthy, he deemed himself unworthy of such an exuberant opulence. For all his shortcomings in his youth, clawing with his right hand while grappling with his left hook to be within the lap of comfort all Berry could buy: this small slice of the heavens he carved for himself with you was priceless.

It was not so dissimilar for you. You had never known a love as passionate, as heated, nor as deep a connection as the one you shared with Sir Crocodile. He was your world, and you were his. These few moments together, before the world drew first breath and the symphony of birdsong would sing to welcome the dawn, you lay in complete syncronancy.

Your heartbeats would thump to the same rhythm, your lungs extend as you drew breath in the same soothing inhale before softly exhaling in unison. If one of you shifted to rotate, splayed fingertips would search in yearning to find each other's warmth within the night: shifting blankets to adjust the heat for one another accordingly.

If you fell out of rhythm together, after a night of sound, blissful slumber, and one of you woke first: the other would gaze fondly at the lover they had taken.

When Sir Crocodile awoke first, his right hand would rise from its position against your hip, slowly raking his fingers delicately along your skin. His calloused hand was coarse and rough, but his fingers were always soft and gentle for you.

Finally, as his fingers reach your shoulders, he massages your shoulder tenderly before raking his forearm over your body and tucking your slumbering form firmly secured against his chest. His eyes were half-hooded, gazing with the softest flutter of his lengthy eyelashes down at you.

“You are so precious to me, my moon,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a tender kiss softly against your hair, “A bright light that guides me through such horrors within my darkened past.” You barely stir within your sleep, unaware such deep, devoted confessions were being freely gifted from the smiling lips of your lover.

“You are the blood that swells my heart,” his breath tickled your temple as his scarred cheek nuzzled against the crown of your head, “It would be too simple a thing to kill for you, as it would be to die for you.”

Unconsciously, your body began to burrow into his chest within your slumber. A soft moan expelled itself from between your lips as you reveled in the contact of your bare skin against his own. His final confession was whispered like a prayer into your ear.

“You command my very soul, my spirit is yours to do with what you will,” he smiled as he felt you stirring within his arms, “Should you toy with me, torture me, or choose to trust me: either way, I am yours, and I will live my life for you.”

Upon hearing his words, your immediate response upon waking was to press a kiss within the hollow flesh of his jugular notch. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as a rumbled groan in bliss swelled within his chest.

“As I am yours, my beautiful Crocodile.”

Should you find yourself to be the first to rise, your breath would hitch as your eyes met with his face. Within his slumber, he managed to break away from your embrace. Lying on his back, his hair splayed down over his face, you notice the deep furrow of his brows and the soft shudder of a snarl.

Softly and cautiously, you draw up your hands over his broad chest to hover over his face. The bright lightning-sheen of his healed scar illuminated within the soft light of the morning. You slowly lean over him, your chest lying flush against his as you straddle his waist.

You splay your forearms over his chest, elbows barely reaching the shoulders of the large man as you lay your ear flush against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart began to slow, a deep, sleepy inhale of his breath sucked in through his lips and departed softly through his nose.

“You are the most precious thing to me, my beautiful Crocodile,” you confessed your deep devotion into his chest, “No gold, jewels, nor Berry could ever meet you as equal.”

Sweeping your cheek away from his chest, you brushed your nose against his chest before beginning a trail of soft and lazy kisses over his pectorals. For each kiss you planted, a confession was whispered into his skin.

“You are the greatest man I have ever known,” you pressed a deep kiss against his clavicle bone, “Your fierce devotion to me is only outmatched by my own to you.”

The swell of his chest beneath your body indicated he was beginning to stir within his deepest rest. He sighed as he raised his right arm to unconsciously pull you closer into his chest. You elevated your chin to gaze up into his dark, violet eyes that had barely split apart between the curtain of his eyelashes.

“You are my closest confidant, my most ferocious protector,” you pressed a lengthy kiss against his jaw before brushing the hair that shrouded his face from full view, “You are all mine.” His eyes were sleepily gazing down at you, feeling the shift of your body flush against his own.

“As you are all mine.”

But should you find yourselves back within that perfect synchrony, on very rare occasions, your eyelashes would flutter as the world around faded into view. The world, as both of you knew it within your souls, was within the arms of one another. The only world that mattered to you both in those fleeting moments, before obligation and commitments called to you; was only, and always, each other.

As your joint eyelids rose together, your glassy orbs found their peace within each others' gaze. You were always the first to smile, where he was always the first to reach out to pull your body against his.

It was always up for debate as to who uttered those sacred words first. The three sought after and holy words that bound you together as one life, one body, one heart, and one soul. Those simple words that had the most mighty and hardened soldiers stutter and stumble over them in their fluster.

Immediately meeting with your smiling lips, Sir Crocodile swooped down and captured them beneath his own. Always slow, the angle of his jaw would alternate with his chin extending down and rotating to depict his heated passion. The bridge of his nose brushed against your own, the rumble of his moan expelled within your mouth as yours fled into his.

Parting your lips, you sought out more contact with your body pressed firmly against your passionate lover. You hooked your arms over his neck as he braced his right arm and left forearm around your waist.

He rolled you over his chest, before using the propulsion of the swinging motion of your body to pin you beneath him. You squealed into his mouth in shocked joy, his lips never breaking their deep contact against your own. With your lover now between your legs, you clawed at his shoulders to tug him closer.

The deep furrow of his brow, and sharp inhale of breath through his nose, had you enchanted by his enthusiastic welcome to commence the day. Almost begrudgingly, he finally split contact away from your lips to smile down at your position beneath him.

Taking a moment to silently acknowledge each other, you slowly laced your hands within the ink-black strands at the back of his head just as he leaned down to press his forehead against your own. Your whispers were almost inaudible, this confession being so scared you both dare not present it to undesirable ears.

This confession was just meant for only each other, your lips brushing briefly as you both relayed your devotion in perfect, unified symphony.

“I love you.”

[mjrtaurus]

Okay but Dragon seeing Crocodile for the first time after his transition, gently cupping his face, his eyes locked with Croc's, and giving the softest, most enamored sounding "look at you..."

And Croc fucking cries.

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

May I have Crocodile x GN!Reader hcs? Any soft ones? Just any and all silly hcs you may think about. 😊🫶Love your writing, I hope you feel better darling!! Much love to you.

HELLO???

Oh you absolutely CAN have some headcanons. I love Crocodile a little too much, so this is right up my alley. <3 thank you so much!!!!! Ilysm

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Word Count: 381

•Very big fan of having you wear his coat, regardless of how ridiculous it may look given the height difference ( if there is one ). Seeing you in it just scratches something in his brain.

•Protective. Very, very protective- one could argue that it's nearly obsessive with how he holds you close, that hook curved around your waist. Never to harm, never- only to hold. To better shield you with his own form.

( Fits the trope of “I would kill for them.” VERY well. )

•Buys you jewelry. No, no- nothing gaudy, gods no. But those delicate golden chains with a precious gemstone dangling from? Rings with woven bands that are inlaid with precious jewels? Just casually, too. He'll come in to your shared suite at the end of the day with a black box tied with a ribbon. Surprise.

•He enjoys hearing you read out loud. When the two of you are alone and he's going over The ledgers for Rain Dinners? Or, later on, for the Cross Guild? Sitting before his desk while you relax on a chaise lounge, reading your book- or even better, something of importance to him. He could fall asleep to the sound.

( and has. )

•Loves, Loves, LOVES when you cook for him. Claims that nothing will ever taste as good as the food that his amore makes. HOWEVER- when it comes to making certain dishes, he will take over. He's very particular about sauces, you see? If you don't use enough salt…

•Has gifted you a Bananawani.

•Who needs a scary dog when you have Sir Crocodile two steps behind you whenever you go somewhere? Anything you want, you get- regardless of the price.

•…can and will fall asleep with his head on your lap if you brush your fingers through his hair. Sometimes, it's nice to be taken care of.

•He Does Not Smoke In Your Rooms. in his office? Sure. Outside? Of course. But when you are in your bedroom? Not a cigar in sight. ( He doesn't want your clothes to smell like cigar smoke. )

•And a hint of spice-

He truly does love the view from below…

[aimbutmiss]

I think Buggy would be really good at dealing with Luffy's adhd, because Shanks also had it.

He doesn't get frustrated when Luffy's mind wanders and he loses focus. Instead, he uses little tricks to keep his attention on him, keeping his talking short so the boy doesn't lose interest and fall asleep or walk off like he usually does. To any outsider who knows how Luffy is, it's impressive as hell. But to Buggy, it's just second nature.

[hannahbarberra162]

The Crocodile's Gambit, Part 4 (Croc X Reader)

18+ MDNI on Ao3

The other chapters

Warning: description of prior abuse /medical violence in this chapter

~~~

You watched with your mouth a perfect circle as Crocodile’s hook fell to the floor. “B-but, your hook -”

“We both have our histories, our secrets, our scars. They make us who we are, not who we were.” Crocodile was unsure how he remained eloquent when surely all his blood was in his aching cock. Your eyes searched his face, trying to determine if he was going to switch his opinion and mock your scars.

“May I touch it? Your arm?” you asked hesitatingly, your hand hovering over his arm. No one had asked since the doctor had removed the stitches binding his skin together. 

“You may,” Crocodile said, allowing you to run your fingers over the scarring. 

“I’ve never seen you without your hook,” you stated, Crocodile transfixed by your slim fingers gently cradling his stump.

“No one else has either,” Crocodile said, puffing on his cigar with his hand. Normally brash, impudent, and cheeky, you ran your fingers delicately over his pitted and marked skin. Crocodile allowed you to move his arm and inspect it as you saw fit. It felt refreshing to be so open with a sexual partner, especially one who had scars of their own.

“Does it hurt?” you whispered, still tracing the faded pocks where the sutures had been.

“It aches at times, but nothing too bothersome” Crocodile said, blowing cigar smoke above your head. To Crocodile’s surprise, you began to massage his stump with your deft little fingers. It felt incredible, nothing like the rough kneadings he gave himself. Crocodile bit back a groan as he leaned back further into his padded chair. He finally had you, naked, sitting in his lap, and his first groan was elicited from a hand massage. 

“You should let me help you with it,” you offered as you continued to work. Crocodile hummed his response. It really did feel quite good to have your nimble fingers working out his tension. He’d agree to it later, right now you were looking delectable with your little furrowed brow concentrating on him, tits gently swaying with your movement.

“Maybe another time. Right now, I’m going to help you,” Crocodile said, rising to stand while holding your bottom in his arms. You squeaked from surprise, clutching his shoulders as if in fear Crocodile was going to drop you. Crocodile strode with purpose towards the bedroom, his cock tenting his pants in anticipation of being buried in your heat.

He set you down none too gently on his bed, you ass bouncing on the mattress. Crocodile undressed rapidly, wishing he was still wearing his hook to slice through his expensive clothes. Putting his cigar in his bedside ashtray, he dove right after you, pinning your wrists down above your head with his hand. “Finally, captured by the King,” Crocodile droned into your ear. His legs in between yours spread them wide open, your wet core sloshing on his thigh. Crocodile wanted nothing more than to sink into your sweet cunt immediately but he knew he had to wait. You weren’t some plaything he’d forget the moment after orgasm. Crocodile needed to show you that he was worth the ride, so to speak. “Will you be a good girl for me? Keep your hands above your head?” 

“Mmhmm. I can be good. I can be very good. I have manners now,” you purred to him.

“Talk is cheap,” Crocodile said with a smile, kissing between your tits. Crocodile growled, biting a nipple gently, earning him a yip. He kissed down your delicious stomach, licked some of your parallel line scars down your legs to your already sopping cunt. “You’ll have to show me,” Crocodile said, licking his lips and hiking your legs over his broad shoulders. 

Two orgasms later and you were no longer very good as you had claimed. At first you had been, mewling and keening for his tongue like a good little slut as you came at his command, your hands where he’d left them. But after the second delicious orgasm you were whining for him to fill you, tangling your hands in his hair in desperation, trying to squirm away from his tongue. Crocodile tsked at you. “So? What’s your answer, hm? Are you still a good girl for me?” Crocodile asked before running his tongue up the length of your cunt, flicking your over-sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. The action had you writhing under him, trying to move him closer or farther away, he couldn't tell.

“Not such a good girl then, hm? Can’t stay still for me?” Crocodile teased as he brought himself up to loom over your face. “That’s alright, I like you wicked,” he said with a smile, kissing you deeply. You tasted your own delight on his lips and tongue, winding your arms around his neck with a contented sigh. Crocodile adjusted you to his desired position, bringing your knees up to your chest, legs hanging over the crooks of his arms in a modified mating press. Crocodile maneuvered the tip of his heavy cock to your entrance. 

“Are you ready? I know I am rather… large,” Crocodile said softly, searching your face. You grinned and patted his cheek, causing Crocodile to kiss your palm.

“Fuck me, baby,” you said with a smile. You gasped as you felt Crocodile enter your tight heaven, your channel squeezing him like a vice. You were wet and slick but so tight Crocodile had to hold himself back from pounding into you. Your back arched up as he continued feeding your sweet pussy more of his cock. Pushing himself into you inch by inch, Crocodile groaned as he finally bottomed out, your tinny whine music to his ears.

He started moving his hips with a slow roll, making you groan your satisfaction. He kept an even tempo even when you mewled at him for more.

“You don’t tell me how to fuck you , brat,” Crocodile smiled against your temple. But he did rise to his knees, using his now free hand to rub your pretty little clit. 

“C-crocodile, I’m close,” you uttered, eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

“Look at me,” Crocodile demanded, pinching your clit. You opened your eyes as you yipped with the sensation. “Look at me as you come, look at who can make you feel this way,” he growled at you, rubbing your sensitive nub faster now. He began thrusting more forcefully, rocking the bed frame with the strength of his movements. 

“ Ah..ah..f-fuck! Crocodile! I’m c-coming!” you stuttered out, your tight channel gripping and spasming around Crocodile like a vice. Your toes curled as your legs tensed, clenching around him even tighter. It was music to Crocodile’s ears and he rode you hard through your high as you came undone around him. He was near his own pleasure and relentlessly pursued it while dragging out your own. Never overly expressive during sex, Crocodile grunted as he gripped the bedpost, cracking the wooden frame under his hand. His orgasm hit him harder than he anticipated, bringing sharper relief to his aching cock than he’d felt in months. Fighting the urge to collapse on top of you, Crocodile laid to your side and rolled you onto his chest. You were still dazed from your third orgasm and breathing heavily.

“So, what do you think, brat? Am I a selfish lover?” Crocodile teased, kissing the top of your head.

“Dunno, need to test my theory again. Best two outta three?” you said with a throaty laugh. Crocodile grinned, his scar spreading further across his face. 

Later that night, Crocodile dozed off easily with your face pressed against him, drool pooling on his chest from your slack mouth. You were exhausted after enjoying each other's bodies for hours, now resting on top of Crocodile’s warm chest. He’d retrieve the hook in the morning, he thought to himself. For now, he enjoyed the warmth of your smaller body on top of his own as he pulled the blankets over the two of you.

~

Crocodile was an early riser by nature but the spot you slept in grew cold by the time he awoke to the breaking rays of the sun. He would reach for you in the morning only to find your lingering scent on the pillow. Today was no different as Crocodile woke to an empty bed. You’d started spending your nights in his bed, usually romantically, but sometimes just talking quietly together until you fell asleep. Crocodile didn’t have a sense of humor that he was aware of, but you were able to get him to chuckle quite frequently. You told him jokes, relayed funny information you’d heard and did an impressive Mihawk impersonation. Your keen intellect was always on display even when you were nestled into his side drifting to sleep. He frequently sought your opinion about Cross Guild matters and gave it as much weight as Mihawk’s.

“What should we do with the Marines that are brought here?” Crocodile asked. Mihawk very strongly wanted to kill them but Crocodile was undecided if that was the best option.

“Keep ‘em. Er, at least the high level ones. Shows you can contain powerful Marines. And the others, just kill ‘em,” you said with a yawn.

“Kill them? I’m surprised that’s your opinion dear,” Crocodile said, kissing the top of your head.

“Did you call me dear ?” you asked incredulously.

“Mmm. You are dear to me, I should hope that is clear by now. But why kill them? I would think you’d be opposed to the murder of innocents,” Crocodile mused as a blush spread across your cheekbones. You were unused to romantic affection, but Crocodile sought to remedy that with his own brand of tenderness.

“Why would I care? They’re not innocent. They’re part of the World Government, just as bad as the people on the top. Maybe worse because they sign up for it. I’ve changed my mind, I think you should kill 'em all,” you said with a pout crossing your adorable features. You were generally easy going in nature towards others, with a notable exception for Marines. Crocodile assumed your negative perception of Marines had something to do with your previous enslavement, but you’d tell him when you were ready, it wasn’t his way to pry. 

He got dressed and headed for his kitchen with a scowl. He was going to address the issue of leaving his bed without him later today - either you had to wake him up with you or you had to remain until he was ready to let you leave in the morning. He’d grown accustomed to your presence and wished to spend the early morning with you.

Pouring from the coffee carafe you’d thoughtfully prepared for him, Crocodile looked out the veranda at the island. Although it wasn’t chosen for its beauty, the island was rather pleasant in the early morning and in the evenings, when most of the crew was sleeping off their hangovers or preparing themselves for another. Crocodile’s coffee soured in his gut as he saw you from afar exchanging a hug with the Clown by the entrance to the Clown’s tent. You stayed in conversation with him afterward, smiling and laughing at the foolish man’s animated words and limbs flying about in the air. Crocodile had no idea what someone as intelligent as yourself could possibly say to such an imbecile but he’d long stopped trying to interfere in your relationship with your Captain. 

Throwing his beloved jacket over his shoulders, Crocodile stalked towards you, no longer willing to hide his jealousy. The Clown and Mihawk were aware of his feelings towards you, though neither had said anything. As Crocodile rounded the corner to the tent, Crocodile realized the Clown was speaking to you about himself. Pausing to listen in, Crocodile heard the remainder of the conversation.

“ - could get you away if you needed it,” the Clown said quietly, holding your hand.

“Nah, I like that old bastard,” you replied, nuzzling his hand on your face. It would have been a touching display of affection if it was himself, not the Clown. 

“But if there’s problems, let me know. Shanks's pretty good at chess too, watching you kick his ass would be fun,” the Clown added, putting his hand on your shoulder in concern. Crocodile gave the Clown’s words some thought. Though the fool irritated him to no end, Crocodile appreciated that the Clown was watching for your best interest even if it was against his own, he thought, chewing on his morning cigar. To offer to send a crew member to a rival Emperor was a sign that he cared for your safety, even if he had no reason to be. For this transgression of offering to take you away from Crocodile, he would only verbally wound the Clown, he wouldn’t raise his hook against him.

Coming fully around the corner, you smiled as you saw Crocodile’s own frowning face. Despite having his back to Crocodile, the Clown tensed, quickly removing his hand from your shoulder, correctly guessing the identity of the interloper.

“Good morning, Dear. Buggy,” Crocodile intoned, tilting his head in an outward show of respect towards the Clown, making you beam. You always appreciated when he showed a modicum of respect towards the Clown though it was not sincere. “Come, let us eat breakfast. Buggy, I will see you later at our meeting,” Crocodile said mildly, resting his hook on the Clown’s shoulder in a mirror of the Captain’s own movements. It always felt odd calling the Clown by his name - like referring to a an animal by a human name, but he had agreed to the terms of your service. Crocodile wasn’t going to hurt the Clown, but he didn’t need to know that now. A little negative anticipation would benefit the Clown’s mood for later. You kissed the Clown’s cheek and bade your goodbyes, walking with Crocodile back to his increasingly finished mansion.

“What was that conversation about?” Crocodile asked, though he felt foolish confirming information he already knew. 

“Captain Buggy was making sure you’re treating me right,” you replied easily. Crocodile hummed and took your hand and placed it on his arm as the two of you strolled back to his residence. He had to walk slowly to match your shorter stride but he didn’t mind enjoying the cool morning air with you.

“I know you were eavesdropping, you’re not as slick as you think you are,” you said with an impish grin. Crocodile grunted. He was slick for everyone else, just not to you.

“I’m not old,” Crocodile replied.

“You are. You’re like 50,” you said matter-of-factly.

“47, brat. Maybe I need to spank the impudence out of you later tonight,” Crocodile mused. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you said with a wink and a laugh. Crocodile’s lips quirked into a small smile. Crocodile led you past the marina towards his residence when you spotted new prisoners being unloaded from a pirate ship.

“Oh, new Marines? Anyone good?” you asked curiously, watching the prisoners being brought to the prison. Your idea had been an incredible success, Marines began arriving to the island semi-regularly. Of course, all high ranking captures were published in the news by Cross Guild, further weakening the bonds the Marines had with the less stable islands. 

“Mm. This time we have mostly low ranking Marines with a notable exception. The Mad Medic has been brought in, apparently captured and detained by his own subordinates. A rare occurrence, but nothing -” Crocodile ceased talking as he took in your countenance. You had paled, your cheeky attitude from moments prior evaporated completely. Your gaze was fixed on the ground, no longer watching the scene play out in front of you. Crocodile frowned, he hadn’t seen you this on edge since the first time he’d properly met you. And even then, you were more nervous than anything else. Your hunched shoulders and lip between your teeth told Crocodile you were scared. And that was not an emotion Crocodile liked seeing in his brave, resilient maid.

“Dear, what’s the matter?” Crocodile asked quietly, walking even slower now. His hand on top of yours kept you from removing it from his arm completely, you were practically tugging him to get further away from the marina. You were frantic to get away, your normal sassy attitude completely absent from the conversation, unlike the easy, leisurely walk before.

“Nothin’, just wanna go,” you whispered back, resuming pulling on his sleeve once more. Crocodile had never seen you so withdrawn - it must be the introduction of the Marines. Crocodile scanned the incoming prisoners, the only one of note was the Mad Medic who was decidedly unamused by the circumstances. He was examining the island and his eyes landed on Crocodile and his companion. A sickening sneer spread over his face as he leered at you from afar. Things quickly clicked into place in Crocodile’s mind as he made a quick decision. 

“And go we shall. Come along,” Crocodile said, hand on the small of your back, guiding you away from the marina. Your eyes darted back towards the boats, as if to make sure you weren’t being followed. Unfortunately, the time for discretion had ended. You were going to have to tell Crocodile what had happened to you so that he could determine the level of torture the Mad Medic would face. 

Wheeling you into his house, Crocodile brought you into the study, sitting you down in your usual chair. You started to set the chess board automatically, your mind obviously elsewhere. Crocodile wasn’t in the mood for playing chess but allowed you to continue as a way to settle your nerves. Crocodile poured two cups of coffee from the carafe you’d left, handing you one after adding one teaspoon of sugar and a large amount of cream, your preferred presentation.

“The Mad Medic,” Crocodile stated.

“Yeah,” you said absently, staring at the chessboard. Crocodile made the first move, trying to ease the burden on your mind.

“Describe how you know this person,” Crocodile rumbled, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers against his hook. You studied the board and made your move, countering his pawn with one of your own. You waited for Crocodile to make his next move before you resumed speaking.

“Before Captain Buggy bought me, I was a medical slave for students training to be doctors to Celestial Dragons. They don’t train on animals or oranges or poor people, they train on slaves for accuracy. Um, like me. I had to go through lots of invasive physical exams, sutures, venipuncture, intubation, surgery…and lots of other stuff was done to me by students. It was um, bad. Really bad. That’s where some of the, um, scars come from. Suture practice. He would, um, make cuts and sometimes rub stuff in them to make them worse for the students to clean and fix. That’s why they’re so even and there’s so many of ‘em, they were for practice. And um, a buncha my veins are ruined from, um, being stuck bad too many times,” you stated, showing him the crook of your arm again. The irregular puncture wounds and parallel scars made sense now. Given the hundreds you had, Crocodile couldn't imagine how many times you had to endure being sliced just to be poorly sewn again or stabbed over and over. You were jiggling your feet and rubbing your hands together, clearly in distress.

“Come here,” Crocodile said, holding his arm out to you. You got up from your chair and came over to sit in his lap sideways, tucking yourself against his chest. “Thank you for sharing this, little one, I know it is difficult for you,” Crocodile said, rubbing your back with his hand. He kept his sand from swirling, he didn’t want you to worry about cleaning the chair. 

“And he was, um, in charge of the program. He used me more than any other slave. Said I had good skin and blood for it, I dunno. And healed faster, but I don’t think that’s true. So. That’s how I know him,” you spoke in a rush, as if you needed to get it out quickly before you stopped yourself.  “That’s, um, part of why I got so good at chess. I used it as a distraction during procedures or when in recovery, which was a lot of the time. You know, thinking about moves, playing games in my head, since um, I was strapped down and um, y’know, gagged most of the time, ” you continued, staring out the office window. You hadn’t made eye contact with Crocodile since the sighting at the marina, something that bothered Crocodile immensely. 

“I see,” Crocodile said easily, like you were telling him you wanted two teaspoons of sugar in your coffee instead of one. In reality, he was imagining the myriad ways he was going to enjoy torturing the Medic to death. He didn’t want to think of you, scared and in pain, strapped to a medical table as students practiced on your precious skin.

“And the final test for doctors who want to work for the Celestial Dragons is, um, how I got the neck scar,” you stated, though your voice had dropped to nary above a whisper. “They, um, well, he, um, slashed my throat with a razor and a fourth year student had to sew up the wound before I died. If I died, they wouldn’t pass. It was….” you trailed off, not finishing the sentence as you relived what was likely the worst moment of your life.

“But um, it took me too long to recover since the student who did mine wasn’t all that good, and um, they sold to the auction house since I couldn’t work, and um, well, you know the rest,” you ended abruptly. Crocodile didn’t want to press for the details, he would find out all he needed to from the medic in due time.

“So that’s why I hate Marines. The medical school was affiliated with them and if they were really going to protect people, they would. They would have stopped the program. But they don’t care about us. No one does,” you finished, wiping your nose with your sleeve. Crocodile reached into the pocket of his vest, retrieving his handkerchief and handing it to you. You took it and wiped your nose and eyes, sitting miserably with tears staining your pretty cheeks. 

“Would you prefer to watch his torture or participate yourself?” Crocodile asked, his head at a slight tilt as he removed your tears with his thumb.

“Wha-what? I thought you were keeping the high level Marines alive, that it-” you sputtered, finally looking at Crocodile’s face. Crocodile cut you off with a wave of his hook.

“No. This one dies by my hand. Or yours, should you wish for it,” Crocodile stated in a flat tone. 

“You’d…do that for me? I know this is fucked up, but that’s…really nice. Maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I mean, aside from buying me and freeing me,” you said, wiping your nose again. 

“You are precious and irreplaceable, I will kill anyone who dares raise their hand against you. That is not a threat, it is a promise. Now, answer the question. Would you like to participate, watch, or neither?” Crocodile asked, rubbing his hand tenderly on your cheek.

“Hmm. I don’t - I don’t know. I don’t want to see him at all. I wasn’t, um, who I am now back then. It was - I wasn’t -  um, I just can’t, I’m, um, scared,” you said, avoiding Crocodile’s eyes once more. He gently put the flat or his hook under your face, tilting it up towards his own.

“It is understandable that you are afraid but you have nothing to fear. Why don’t you let me attend to this matter for now, hm? It is, after all, my area of expertise,”  Crocodile said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. You gave him a watery smile, but kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Crocodile,” you said softly. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Crocodile said, sand already swirling as he adjusted his hook.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[ofallthingsnasty]

Crocodile takes his fat basement wife shopping for clothes and is disappointed and irritated that none of the stores have anything in her size

Cue custom made wardrobe where everything fits her perfectly (that is the dream)

Or maybe he gives her a bunch of magazine catalogues and tells her to list down what outfits she likes. And his poor soggy wife obeys but thinks the whole time “this is cute but it won’t fit me” or “I’d be too scared to wear this in public but I’d like to imagine it”

She doesn’t think much of it but a few weeks later every single item is in her wardrobe and to her size (with a few outfits that he wants her in thrown in)

Oh goodness, stop, that's too cute. Are you trying to kill me? 😭 I can see him taking you shopping and getting furious when they don’t have anything in your size, like what kind of retailer is this supposed to be? Ridiculous  - but that would happen if he were normal about you. And he really isn’t, haha. When it comes to Crocodile, basement really means basement - you’re a liability, a weakness. Not something other people need to know about.

tw.yandere, fem + fat reader, basement wivery

He practically slaps those catalogues down and says that you can get the whole thing if you so wish - but pick something, storms off and doesn’t even wait for an answer. It’s a treat, a reward - and those are rare coming from him, especially when it concerns your appearance. You have very little say in what clothes he puts you in, everything down to your socks is picked out for you. It’s important to him that you two match, even if no one except for him (and occasionally Ms. All Sunday) gets to see you. It’s all about his ego and entertainment and power. So you being allowed to pick out something you like? You must have been on exceptionally good behavior for that to happen. It’s just a shame that the models in the magazines don’t look like you at all, even if they have the clothes in your size. You feel more and more tense the longer you skim through the little booklets - nervous because you’re sure nothing is going to fit you well enough and anxious to voice those same concerns to him. He’ll just call you ungrateful and rip the catalogues from your hands again, maybe even punish you for being so selfish and spoiled, and that’s the last thing you want. You’re almost back to crying when you’re done building a million what-ifs and scenarios in your mind, it’s that overwhelming. It’s hard not to feel rushed between him waiting on you to drop the papers back into his lap and being insecure about your body. When you finally swallow down that big lump in your throat and simply circle some of the things you think are safe bets, he’s already impatiently chewing his cigar at his desk. So when he makes a grand show of presenting with your picks some weeks later, you’re going to be more than surprised to find some more… risqué pieces among them, things you definitely didn’t mark. And no matter how much your ears burn or how shaky you get, he’ll have you model every single item. He doesn’t care that you’re embarrassed, he gave you a gift. And you better honor that - not only by showing him just how snug some pieces are, but also by giving him a nice and proper thank you. See, he’s generous - you don’t have to ride him for it (although he certainly wouldn’t say no to that), some words of gratitude and a kiss on the cheek are enough.  

Play pretend with him, even for a little while, let him be your husband and he can be so, so good to you.

[abbeyofcyn]

This is Welcome! My grandpa gave him to me for my 10th birthday I think. He used to have an orange band on his neck that had Welcome stitched in white on it but my mom cut it off when she went crazy :(

Anyway I'm sure you're going to get a lot of Leos and Donnies so here's one for the plushie king himself Raph!

Leo is actually very unpopular haha. Donnie and Raph are getting the most love.

[soundless-storm]

I've been living in crochawk hell for a while now, so I decided to do something about it and feed myself and the other like 5 people who live here.

So yeah, I tried... something

idk man

be gay, do crime

[you might want to adjust your screen brightness up a bit... Yeah, I know, nobody wants that. But sadly I am a dramatic bastard that likes shadows a little too much, I'm sorry]

(crops under the cut)

[plush-with-love]

Source ~ Squishables

Strawberry Crocodile