| ANYWHERE BUT WORK | SIR CROCODILE
summary: as both a former warlord and headliner of the cross guild, sir crocodile has appearances to keep up. despite that, he has one major soft spot - his wife. that's why during work hours, he has to pretend he barely knows you, lest he show you the affection he so desperately yearns to. pairing: crocodile / secretary! reader wc: 2.0k tags: f! reader, fluff, crocodile loves his wife, soft crocodile, i'll stand by that agenda forever why would he marry you if he hates you and neglects you, he pampers the shit out of you, mihawk comes thru for the clutch
"Good morning, sirs." You greeted your three bosses as they walked into work together towards the conference room, sitting at the desk just outside.
"Goooood morning!" Buggy chirped, flashing you a thumbs up. "Keep up the good work today!" Mihawk inclined his head slightly towards you, a silent show of respect for both your hard work - and, more likely - putting up with Buggy all the time.
"Meetings." Crocodile asked shortly, taking his cigar out of his mouth and hiding it behind his back as he caught your glare towards him.
"Certainly, sir." You said calmly, eyebrow twitching just the slightest bit. You'd told him to cut down on the smoking, especially indoors. "The three of you have your bi-monthly bounty hunter meeting today, so please be sure to have new bounties on Marines prepared by noon. Aside from that, standard operations."
"Thank you." Mihawk said, walking towards his office, likely to grab his documents per your instruction, as the meeting was just a few hours away.
"What should I do until the meeting?" Buggy blinked, pointing at himself.
"Prepare?" Crocodile's deep voice rumbled, as he scoffed in disbelief. "Do you need to be coddled every second of your day?"
"I was just checking if there was anything else I needed to do!" Buggy exclaimed, pointing at you. "Our cute little secretary has all the info I need!"
Crocodile crushed his cigar in his hand, still behind his back. The ashes fell to the floor. "Just get the papers."
A bead of sweat rolled down Buggy's face, collecting pale makeup as it reached his chin. "I sense I've done something wrong." He turned on his heel and fled into his office, locking it tightly.
Crocodile turned back to you, saying nothing. You flipped through your papers, checking through any calls that you might be expecting or need to make - likely for Crocodile himself, who was always on the lookout for new business partners.
The man began to reach into his coat pocket for a cigar, only to stop himself. He was still in front of your desk. You glanced at him for just a second, before opening the drawer of your desk and handing something to him.
"Your lunch, sir." You said, as he took it from you. "You forgot it at home again."
His jaw clenched, and he opened the container with his hand, peering inside. His favorite, grilled crocodile over rice. Some vegetables with teriyaki sauce, some fruit for dessert. A note stuck to the lid, saying "Do your best today!"
He tucked the lunch container into his inner pocket, and his hand flexed as if to reach for you. Your eyes shot to his, before sliding behind him. A warning.
Crocodile followed your gaze, sighing as he saw Mihawk's piercing eyes observing the two of you from his office window. He blinked once, before flicking his wrist to roll down the curtains, likely returning to his paperwork.
"Be careful, now." You said, jotting down notes for your call at two. "Best to follow the rules you set."
You held no grudge against your husband for the decision he made. It was likely best for you, too, if he pretended to only know you in a coworker capacity, lest people begin to think you didn't work for the position.
Plus, had he not set the rule for the two of you, it was likely that he'd be attached to you all day until you both went home together - and he'd be attached to you then, too.
"...Yes." He muttered, watching you work. He began walking away, but paused right as he reached his door, turning just the slightest bit. "Do your best today."
You smiled, stopping your notetaking to meet his eyes. The moment your eyes met, he looked away, as if he couldn't bear to see you any longer. "I'll see you after work, Sir."
Each day was just like that. Absolute torture. He wanted nothing more than to sit in the same room as you, have you tuck into his side for hours on end, reading newspapers in silence and discussing any new developments in the world.
A domestic life, like a normal husband and wife. His time in Alabasta with you was rather close to that, before that damned Straw Hat came along. But now, Straw Hat wasn't even the problem.
The Cross Guild was formidable, to say the least. All former warlords, all incredibly strong pirates, all (except, perhaps Buggy - though maybe Crocodile could be nice and give it him the credit) capable of toppling the power structure of the sea.
Yet, that wasn't the issue either. Power was not the issue. The issue was that his coworkers - your coworkers, were incredibly nosy. Buggy was much more perceptive than he let on, he had to know something was going on. Of course, then, he spent his free time teasing Crocodile purely for the sake of it, just to get a reaction out of him.
Mihawk never gave an indication that he knew anything. But he didn't have to, because both of you could always feel his eyes on you, observing every move, every gesture, the slightest touches.
So you both agreed to pretend not to know each other outside of a coworker capacity, for the sake of reputation and for the sake of work. You were the Cross Guild's formidable secretary, efficient, quick, and diligent. You didn't want that spoiled for you, nor did Crocodile want to appear soft.
But god, was it hell. When you had free time, you would run their errands. Bring Buggy news on Straw Hat and Shanks, bring Mihawk the newest books he wanted to read (and secretly, updates on Zoro and Perona), bringing Crocodile more cigars and the freshest newspapers.
Buggy would always try to keep you longer than needed, making idle chit-chat. You'd entertain it, because at the end of the day, you had three bosses and he was unfortunately one of them - plus, he was actually quite good company and very funny to listen to.
During times like this, you could always feel Crocodile's temper simmering behind his door.
Mihawk never caused problems like that. He would nod in appreciation, perhaps occasionally ask you for a wine catalogue, but he'd never pry, and you'd typically be on your way within a few minutes.
For some reason, visiting your husband was the most awkward. The two of you would broil in silence as you darted around the office, ensuring that everything was in order, sometimes handing him yet another meal if he was working late.
He'd do his best to make normal conversation like the two of you did at home, but he had immense difficulty doing so without eventually doting on you.
He'd always start missing you most around midday, because there was typically enough work in the morning that he could busy himself with paperwork and distract himself from his wife, who sat just outside his office working herself.
But at midday, it seemed like it was more than just four hours - more like four days, since you'd woken up just a bit before him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking your face into his chest, peppering kisses all over him before you went to get ready for work, going in a hour before he did.
Instead of lying in bed to catch an extra hour of sleep, he'd watch you get ready, smiling when you put your work outfit on, whether it be skirt or tights, pants or dress. If you allowed it, he'd comb through your hair gently as you did your morning skincare routine. If you had extra time before leaving, you'd help him slick back his hair, checking his hook for rust, and fluffing up his coat.
You'd both put your wedding rings on a discrete, thin chain around your necks, letting it hang like a necklace during work hours and still keeping it on you. It was likely easier to just leave the rings at home, but Crocodile would rather die than leave the strongest sign of your bond behind.
So you can imagine how tiresome it was for him to have to go into work and pretend the two of you had nothing.
"Your wife seems a bit upset." Mihawk said, face covered by a book and his outlandishly large hat. His body was leaned back deeply into his chair, the late night getting to him. Buggy had gone home for the night, but Mihawk and Crocodile were still in, having an actual job to do.
Crocodile stiffened in the chair across from Mihawk, eyes automatically sliding to your desk outside where you looked exhausted, arguing with someone on the Transponder Snail as you rubbed your temple with your free hand. You felt his gaze, smiling at him weakly, before turning your attention back to the snail.
Crocodile sighed. There was no point in lying to Mihawk - he wasn't the type to initiate conversation, especially not about a topic he wasn't sure he was knowledgeable about. It was a long time coming, him addressing your relationship.
"It's our anniversary." Crocodile responded, voice deep and exhausted as he flipped through the newest bounties he was going to put out, ensuring that the values were correct before they were released. "Neither of us would prefer to be working so late today, but it can't be helped. It isn't as if our so-called 'President' will be much help when it comes to proofreading."
Mihawk calmly closed his book, looking over to your desk. Of course, you noticed this too, shooting him a strained smile as you leaned back in your chair, face getting gradually more agitated with whoever was on the other end of the call. His eyes slid back to Crocodile, whose cigar was whittling away in his mouth, ashes uncharacteristically falling all over his lap as he rubbed at his eyes.
"Just this once." Mihawk said, reaching his hand out for Crocodile's papers. The man looked up inquisitively, puffing out a large cloud. "I'll cover your workload, just this once. Go home, and spend time with your wife."
"There's no need." Crocodile protested. In all fairness, there's nothing he'd like more than to go home now, but he'd never want to owe Mihawk a thing, nor would he want to seem less capable. It was bad enough that Mihawk knew of your relationship.
"Don't think of it as a favor." Mihawk sighed, standing up slightly to pluck the papers out of Crocodile's hand, before sitting back down and starting to read. "You and your wife stay after hours the most out of any of us. In a way, I'm paying you back - so leave the papers with me and go celebrate your anniversary."
Crocodile put out his cigar in the ashtray next to him, staring at Mihawk. The greatest swordsman in the world merely ignored him, eyes focused on the papers intensely, determined to do the job right. Plus, he had a point, and Crocodile knew it. It was you and him that stayed late the most often.
If there was one day you two could slack off, it should be this one.
Crocodile slung his coat over his shoulders, heading for the door before pausing, hand on the handle. "I appreciate this, Mihawk."
"Don't mention it." He shrugged, sipping his wine and yawning a bit. "Just ask your wife to bring me the newest wine catalogue tomorrow."
Crocodile nodded, swinging the door outwards and walking to your desk, gently taking the receiver out of your hands and hanging up the Transponder Snail.
Clank.
You blinked at him, eyes weary and inquisitive. Before you could ask, he slung his coat over your shoulders and helped you out of the chair, pushing it into the desk. Then he lifted you up, a warm hand holding your shoulders, cold hook carefully circled around your thigh as he walked out of the building.
"We're going home, love." He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Good work today."
You relaxed in his arms, practically melting. "Mihawk felt nice today, did he?"
He pressed another kiss to your cheek, making you laugh. "Certainly. Please bring him the newest wine catalogue tomorrow. Perhaps we should gift him something, too.
"I'll prepare the best we have."
