#crocodile x reader

[rosietoesy]

Okay which pirate does this fit.

which pirate

Law

Mihawk

Crocodile

Voting ended onAug 12

[dragonstarlightwrites]

Air Jail

Characters: Crocodile, Doflamingo, Katakuri, & Kid

Summary: When it comes to a solution to a problem, you partner comes up with an entertaining one.

A/N: I totally forgot that I had started this request. The idea was so much fun, but writers block was winning out, and I had given up. Luckly, I found my draft and was able to finish it.

Masterlist

🖤🐊Crocodile:  

You should have known you were pushing your luck, working for the Cross Guild could be a lot sometimes. You were technically working for Crocodile but since your captain was Buggy, he had running all kinds of errands and completing tasks to prove your loyalty after he found out you and Crocodile were together. Which led to the current conversation with your boss/boyfriend. 

"You’ve missed three meetings." Crocodile continued reading the stack of reports on his desk as you stood beside him.  

"I was busy." You shifted back and forth slightly; you could just blame Buggy, since it was his fault. You missed one because an errand ran long and the other two you had fallen asleep and missing them. But he was your captain and friend, so you didn’t want to throw him to the hypothetical crocodiles. 

"You were asleep." He turned a page of the report that you were supposed to be doing and wrote something down, before turning his attention to you completely.  

You looked into his eyes, “It won’t happen again, I just have been a bit exhausted that is all.” 

There was a long silence as Crocodile’s eyes went from yours and roamed all over your body, he let out a slight hum. Then his golden hook nudged your side before wrapping it around you, drawing you closer to him. "What?" His hand settled on your waist. "Crocodile?" Before you could process what he was doing, sand coiled around your legs and back and with no effort on his part, you were lifted clean off the floor. "Did you?" Your feet kicked uselessly above the ground. "Did you just put me in air jail?" 

"I did." 

"You cannot be serious." 

"I've never been more serious." 

You folded your arms, glaring at him. "Put me down." 

"No." He said while turning back to the report, writing something else down. 

"I have rights." 

"Debatable." 

"Crocodile." 

Without looking up, he replied, "Darling, hush. I'm working on the report you're supposed to have finished." 

You let out an exaggerated gasp. "I can't believe this." He calmly turned the next page, as though holding you captive several feet off the ground was the most ordinary part of his afternoon. "You are unbelievable." You could see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. “Are you smiling?" 

"No." 

"You are." You said pointing to him, trying fight the smile forming on your own face. Seeing him smile was rare, but it was always worth it... well maybe less worth it when you were being dangled up in the air by his sand.  

"You're imagining things." Before you could argue, the sand holding you shifted and instead of lowering you, it carried you a little higher. 

"Crocodile." You then drifted to the left spinning slightly, "Crocodile I swear..." You then moved back to the right. The sand was gently rocking you back and forth like you were dancing while he continued reading as if he had absolutely nothing to do with it.  "Are you making the sand dance with me?" 

"Perhaps." 

"You're impossible." 

"Mm." Then at last he finally set the report aside. "There." With a flick of his fingers, the sand lowered you, not to the floor, but directly into his lap. You barely had time to make a sound before his arm settled securely around your waist, pinning you against his chest. "Much better," he murmured. 

You twisted enough to glare up at him. "You could've just put me down on the floor." 

"Could have." 

"Then why didn't you?" 

“I enjoy having you close.” His eyes met yours, loving and knowing. "also this has very little to do with missed meetings." Your expression faltered, oh shit, why did you think you could keep anything from this man, "Buggy has been finding increasingly creative ways to monopolize your time." His thumb idly brushed your cheek. "I've allowed it because I wanted to see how long it would take before you mentioned it." 

"You knew?" You asked with some hesitance, of course he would have noticed.  

"From the beginning." 

You sighed, shoulders slumping. "I didn't want to get him in trouble; he is my captain." 

"How considerate you are my love, but" He leaned back in his chair, his grip on your waist remaining firm enough that escaping wasn't really an option, not that you really wanted to. "I'll handle the clown." 

🖤🦩Doflamingo: 

"You are not listening to me."  

Doflamingo didn't even glance up from the newspaper in his hands as he sat down on the couch. "I heard every word, little bird." 

"Then why are you ignoring me?" 

A low chuckle escaped from him as he peered at you from behind his pink sunglasses, "You've become awfully bold." 

"I've always been bold." You snapped back uncrossing your arms and trying to glare at him, but he already had gone back to the newspaper.  

"No." He turned a page. "You've become comfortable." 

You hesitate for a second, "Is that a bad thing?" 

"Not necessarily." 

You rounded the table in front of the couch until you were standing directly in front of him and pulled down the paper carefully but forcefully. "There. Now you have to acknowledge me."  

That action caused his attention to snap directly to you. His eyes now piercing you over the top of his sunglasses. "Move." 

"No." You had to stand your ground regardless of the outcome; he wouldn’t actually hurt you, would he? 

"Little bird, you'll regret that." 

You started to call, what you hopped would be his bluff, "You wouldn’t actually...” then the words died in your throat as you felt stopped when something brushed lightly around your wrist. You looked down at your wrist and then back at him as a grin made its way across his face as another thread curled around your other wrist. "Doffy?" Then around felt around your waist and then your ankles. The feeling was almost soft and gentle as the string was hanging loosely. "Doflamingo." 

"Hm?" He responded, cocking his head to the side while his fingers made up and down movements.  

"What are your strings doing?" 

"They're solving a problem." 

"What problem?" 

"You."  

Before you could react, the strings pulled tight and your contact with the floor vanished as you were shot up it the air, "What....HEY!" You were pulled effortlessly upward until you were hanging several feet above the marble floor, rotating in the air as you twisted around. Your eyes dropped to the ground and then to the nearly invisible strings keeping you suspended and then back to him. "Did you just string me into air jail?" 

He finally set down the newspaper completely, much more entertained by the scene in front of him and that grin on his face was absolutely unbearable. "Fufufufu..." 

"That's not an answer." 

"Isn't it?" 

"No!" 

"Then yes." He leaned back comfortably against the couch. "Consider this your punishment for not listening, most people would be dead right now for not listening to me. All you get is a bit hung up." 

You stared at him. "You cannot be serious." 

"Look at you." He gestured lazily with one finger, making you slowly rotate in place. "You're much quieter already." 

"I'm not quieter!" You shouted back, trying to fight against the stings.  

"Mm." His finger twitched again, and the strings carried you in a slow circle in front of him. 

"Stop spinning me!" 

"Why?" He asked sarcastically while he continued to mess with you. 

You tried to glare at him as more strings began to wrap around you, "Because it's humiliating!" 

"Exactly." He let out another laugh, “You are rather amusing like this, I should sting you up more often, little bird.” 

You huffed out. "You're enjoying this." 

"Immensely." He said with his grin wider than before if that was possible. He guided you closer with another subtle twitch of his fingers. The strings obeyed instantly, drawing you through the air until your nose was nearly touching his, but they held you there, just out of reach. "Better." 

You frowned. "Better for who?" 

"Me." 

"You're insufferable." 

"So, I've been told by you, repeatedly."  

Just as you leaned forward to close the tiny gap yourself, the strings eased you back an inch, and you looked at him incredulously, "Did you just move me away?" 

His grin stretched wider. "Patience, little bird." 

"You're doing this on purpose." 

"Obviously." With another lazy motion of his fingers, the strings drew you close again, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. 

"You really enjoy hearing yourself talk, don't you?" 

"Fufufu... I enjoy watching you react, my little bird." Before you could come up with another retort, he caught your chin between his fingers and closed the remaining distance himself. The kiss was slow and unhurried, lingering just long enough to leave you momentarily forgetting the strings still holding you aloft. When he finally pulled away, he didn't let you drift far. The strings kept you hovering comfortably in front of him, as though you belonged there. His thumb brushed over your cheek. "See?" He murmured with a satisfied smile. "Much more pleasant than arguing, little bird." 

💜🍩Katakuri: 

Katakuri had asked for your help with inventory checks on several of the Big Mom Pirates' ships. It was a task you'd helped with countless times since your arranged marriage. In the beginning, the jobs were quiet, almost awkward. Your wedding had been your introduction to each other and trying to make conversation with him had been hard, but doing the inventory checks with him gave you both a chance to get more comfortable with each other in a setting away from everyone else. 

As time went on, you’d grown used to walking beside him through the streets of Whole Cake Island, talking about whatever happened to cross your mind while he quietly listened. You two slowly grew closer together and your arranged marriage became a real one.  

Normally the inventory check went well but today was just going to one of those days.  

"I can carry that." You said, reaching down to pick up a crate to move it.

"You don't need to." Katakuri said gently placing his hand on shoulder.  

But you reached for the crate anyway. "I've got it." 

"It's okay, I can handle it." Before your fingers could touch the wooden box, Katakuri's large hand gently caught your wrist, pulling you to his other side with the crate in his other hand.  

You blinked up at him. "It's not a big deal; I can handle it. " 

He didn't answer and instead, he looked past you toward the hallway and not a even a second later, one of the cooks hurried around the corner carrying a tower of crates that completely blocked his view. He nearly barreled through the exact spot where you'd been standing. "Oh! Sorry!" The cook called before continuing without another thought. 

A few minutes later, you wandered toward a shelf stacked with jars. "I think these should..." Your hand reached out, Katakuri gently caught your wrist again, pulling you back into him. "Katakuri?" You looked up at him and a heartbeat later one of the jars tipped from the on the top shelf as a wave crashed into the side of the ship before tumbling down. It shattered across the floor exactly where you had been standing.  

After a bit, you bent down to pick up a blanket that someone had dropped, when ou felt Katakuri's hand rest against your shoulder. "Don't move. " You froze glancing up as a crew member rushed past carrying a long metal pipe balanced across his shoulders. It swept through the space your head had occupied less than a second earlier. 

You slowly straightened. "How are you doing that?" 

Katakuri glanced at you. "I saw it." 

"Oh right."  You took another few steps down the corridor and something soft and familiar wrapped around your waist. The white mochi had curled securely around you. "Katakuri?" Before you could ask another question, your feet left the floor. “What?" The mochi lifted you smoothly into the air until you were at eye level with him, "Did you just put me in air jail?" 

"Just for a bit, sweetie." He said, “It is for your own good.”  

"Katakuri." You folded your arms with an exaggerated huff. "I cannot believe you're air-jailing me." Just as the words came out of your mouth, a loud metallic groan echoed through the corridor. You looked over just in time to see one of the overhead pulleys snap and a heavy pallet swung violently across the hallway, crashing into the wall with enough force to splinter the wood. Right through the space where you would have been standing. 

Your eyes widened. "I rescinded my previous statement darling, air-jailing me was the correct thing to do." Even with the threat gone, the mochi didn't lower you, so you turned your attention back to him, "Can I come down now?" 

He shook his head "Not yet." 

"There's more?" He just gave a nod, and you sighed dramatically, but not really that upset by the current situation. The mochi was soft and comfortable; you took naps on it regularly, so being wrapped up, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.  

Less than a minute later, two Big Mom Pirates came sprinting around the corner. One tripped and the pair stumbled together, sending a stack of supply barrels rolling wildly down the hallway. The barrels thundered past beneath you before crashing into another pile of crates. You looked at Katakuri. "Seriously what is going on today?"  

Katakuri just gave you a shrug, and his gaze drifted somewhere beyond the corridor. "All clear." The mochi slowly lowered you until your boots touched the floor and the moment you were standing again, the mochi melted away from your waist. 

You dusted yourself off before looking up at him. "Thank you, are we clear from anyone showing up for a bit?" Katakuri gave you another nod, already knowing exactly what you were about to ask. "So," You smiled up at him. "Could you pick me back up for a second? I think my protector deserves a reward." 

There was the briefest pause. “If that's what you want." His mochi curled gently around your waist once more, lifting you effortlessly until you were eye level with him. "This is much better," you murmured. 

His eyes softened. "Is it?" 

"Mm-hm." You rested your hands against his scarf pulling it down before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He returned it without hesitation, slow and unhurried, one gloved hand coming to rest lightly at the small of your back while the mochi kept you comfortably suspended. When the kiss finally ended, you lingered close enough that your foreheads touched. "Thank you," you whispered. 

Katakuri looked at you for a long moment before speaking. “Always love." 

You smiled. "You know," you teased, "air jail isn't so bad when it ends like this." 

The corner of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly as he covered his smiling face back up with his scarf, "Don't get used to it." Then, without another word, the two of you continued down the corridor, this time with you making a point to stay just a little closer to his side.

♥️⚙️Eustass Kid: 

It wasn’t very often you argued with Kid, fighting with him was never worth it. But this time was different. A new crate of supplies was now destroyed, and your boyfriend decided somehow it was your fault. It wasn’t for the record, and you weren’t going to be taking the blame on this one.  

"It wasn't my fault." You snapped at him huffing as you both, along with several other crew members, walked through the market.  

"It was." Kid bit back glaring at you lightly. Even if you two were fighting, he couldn't bring himself to be that mean to you. Especially over a crate of supplies they could easily just take from anyone. At this point he was having fun riling you up.  

"I literally watched Heat start the fire." You said gesturing wildly to Heat who just shrugged but didn’t say anything to confirm or deny. He wasn’t getting in the middle of you two. 

"He started it because you distracted him."  

"I asked him what he wanted for lunch, since you know its my job!" 

"Well, you shouldn't have when he was carrying the crate."  

You threw your hands into the air. "That's not even..." And then without warning, a metal hand wrapped around your waist and the ground disappeared from beneath you. "Kid." You looked down and you were now dangling a good couple of feet above the ground. "Did you just put me in air jail?" 

Kid kept walking as if nothing unusual had happened, carrying you one-handed like you weighed absolutely nothing. "Temporary air suspension." 

"KID!" 

The crew that was with you was trying to not laugh all while Heat walked past with a crate balanced on one shoulder. "About time." 

You attention snaped from Kid to man who was the cause of this in the first place, "What do you mean 'about time'?" Heat said nothing and instead just laughed.  

Wire glanced over, "Causing problems, huh?" 

"I'M NOT THE PROBLEM!" You shouted exasperated trying to wriggle out of Kid’s grip, but it was useless. 

Kid snorted. "You definitely are." 

You crossed your arms dramatically looking back at Kid.  "This is humiliating." 

"You'll live.” Kid said patting your head with his other hand like you were some kind of animal.  

"Put me down!" 

"No." 

"Why?" 

"You'll keep arguing." 

"I can argue from up here!" 

"You sound farther away." 

You gasped. "That is unbelievably rude." Kid ignored you completely as the people on the island openly stared at the sight of a feared pirate captain holding their partner up in the air with one hand all because you were arguing with him.  

One little kid pointed. "Mom! That man is carrying them!" 

"I'm aware, sweetheart." The mom said, gently guiding the child away from the scene. 

You buried your face in your hands. "I'm never recovering from this." Kid's shoulders shook from laughing and you could feel your body shake along with his. “Are you laughing at me? It isn't that funny." 

"It is very funny babe." Kid said bring you closer to his grinning face. “How about this, give me a kiss and I’ll put you down?”  

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Absolutely not." 

Kid raised an eyebrow. "Then I guess you're staying up there." 

"You're literally holding me hostage for affection."  

"I'm your boyfriend. It's different." 

You looked back at Kid with a dramatic huff. "Fine. You don't get a kiss." 

"Guess you don't get put down." 

Killer sighed from somewhere behind you. "This is the dumbest argument we've seen all week and it only Tuesday." 

Heat wandered over again, taking one look before grinning. "You know, Captain, you could just throw 'em over your shoulder." 

Kid looked thoughtful at you for a second, "That's an option." 

"NO IT ISN'T." Before you could protest further, Kid shifted you with alarming ease and suddenly you were upside down over his shoulder. The world tilted and any dignity you had left evaporated. "KID!" You smacked his back repeatedly and he didn't even react. It was like hitting reinforced steel. "You are the worst." 

"So, I've been told." You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he had that smug smile on his face. 

"You have exactly five seconds to put me down." 

"No." 

"Four." 

"Nah." 

"Three." 

"Pass." 

“Two." 

"I’m good." 

"One." 

“I’m so scared.” 

"I'm out of numbers." 

"Tough." Before you could think of another threat, Kid gave your backside a light, playful smack. 

You yelped, twisting as much as you could from your upside-down position. "Did you just slap my ass?" 

"Couldn't resist." 

Heat barked out a laugh. "Captain, I think you made 'em even madder." 

"Good," Kid said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. 

You huffed, "I'm going to make your life miserable when you put me down." 

Kid just chuckled. "Should have just given me that kiss." 

[loverrin]

| SILENCE IS LOVE | SIR CROCODILE

summary: you and sir crocodile have gotten used to speaking in silence, as it seems to be the safest option in a room full of nosy businessmen. unfortunately for you, the cross guild has a master of silence that seems to know your secret language inside and out. pairing: assassin! reader / sir crocodile wc: 1.6k tags: established relationship (married), f! reader, fluff, crocodile down bad, cross guild dynamics, buggy is nosy but mihawk is nosier, you like to pretend you don't like crocodile but he knows otherwise

Prior to the Cross Guild's creation, you'd had a pretty carefree life as an assassin, taking on jobs here and there for various organizations that needed extra hands. You'd worked with Sir Crocodile before when he founded Baroque Works, taking up jobs that were simply too difficult for the Millions or Billions when all the Number Agents and their partners were occupied.

Crocodile admired your work. You delivered quickly, flawlessly, and silently. You never pried, as long as the price was right - yet you also held to your morals, unwilling to harm children or have a hand in his starvation of Alabasta.

A few years passed, and his mission to entirely usurp Alabasta was nearing fruition. Taking on difficult jobs, your bounty slowly climbed upwards, subtly nudging the one hundred million mark. He finally made up his mind to ask you for the pleasure of an evening meal with you once it was all over - and was pleasantly surprised when you calmly accepted.

Though, we all know how that went. You, Daz, and Crocodile were all imprisoned in Impel Down, with Daz being stuck on Level 4 for boiling manual labor, Crocodile on Level 6, and you stuck in between, freezing away on Level 5. Months withered away as the three of you bided your time.

Then, Straw Hat Luffy showed up again and upheaved everything.

"How'd it go?" A familiar, deep voice spoke behind you, a heavy warmth draping across your back smelling of cigar smoke, expensive cologne, and seawater. A few ashes fell on your lap, and you brushed them away calmly.

"Fine, as always." You replied, attempting to look upwards, only to be foiled by Crocodile's chin resting on your head. You sighed, pointing to the papers sitting just out of arm's reach on your desk. He picked them up with his hand, metal hook resting territorially on your lap as he sifted through them.

"Perfect." He hummed, pressing a light kiss to your hairline. "Excellent work. I would never expect anything less."

"HELLOOOOO!" A voice screeched, before busting into your office. Crocodile groaned, separating himself from you, but standing behind you nonetheless as Buggy grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. "Well, well, lookie here. Lovebird one and two, congregated in one spot!"

"Where else would they be?" Mihawk murmured, trailing in behind Buggy with a few papers in hand, forking them over for you to look at. "Hello. There's more recent news on the Red Force, if you were interested-"

Buggy quickly snatched them out of Mihawk's hand, pretending not to see your outstretched hand waiting for the papers. Your eyes slid to Crocodile's, who was standing beside you now, as if to say -

Are we serious?

Crocodile's eyes glinted in amusement as he released another puff of smoke and shrugged.

What did you expect?

Mihawk observed the two of you, eyebrow raised upwards. It was never a secret that you two were romantically involved - but your thoughts were always more obvious than the two of you believed.

There is no hiding from Hawk-Eye Mihawk.

As Buggy scoured his papers, Mihawk reached into his inner coat pocket and passed you another copy of the same newspaper. You huffed, glancing at Crocodile again.

He couldn't have just handed the first one to Buggy per usual?

Crocodile scoffed.

"He would've lunged for it anyways." Mihawk said, blinking at you. You blinked back, clearly unsettled as you tentatively reached for the paper.

"Right..."

"Goodbye. I will see you all at the meeting later." The greatest swordsman turned on his heel and walked out without a care in the world.

You and Crocodile watched him walk out, aggravated and thoroughly fed up as Buggy continued to scan over the newspaper, grumbling random words and slinging expletives as if both Straw Hat and Red-Haired Shanks were in the room with all of you.

"Buggy." You and Crocodile began, glancing at each other when your voices overlapped.

Go ahead. He gestured, eyes droopy as he waved at you, walking out the door.

"Buggy, do this somewhere else." You finished, staring at your (technically) boss. "I don't want to be part of the weird rivalry you have with people that wear hats made of straw."

Buggy walked out of your office, eyes glued to the paper he was holding the whole time, blindly fumbling for the door handle and slamming his shoulder into the wall on his way out.

You sighed heavily, leaning back in your chair and setting your feet on top of your desk, opening the newspaper Mihawk had handed you as Crocodile made his way back to you, a familiar weight landing atop your head as his hand continued to flip through your completed bounties.

The two of you soaked in each others' presence as you worked, Crocodile occasionally grabbing the pen you were using to mark the newspaper for himself, jotting down notes in the sidelines of his documents.

"You have an office too, you know?" You huffed in amusement, burying your face into his coat, which was surrounding you. The warm fur shifted as he pulled you closer, small specks of sand gently blowing past your face to prevent the ashes from collecting on you.

"I see you more in the office than I do at home, nowadays." He murmured, setting the papers down on the desk again to wrap his hand around your waist.

You pushed him off of you gently, glancing at him - not with any ill intent, but with just a bit of scorn.

You and Mihawk should assign me less work, then.

His eyes closed in slight apology, creasing warmly. A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed a kiss to his forehead, ignoring how you squirmed in pretend contempt for him.

I'm sorry. But really, it's Buggy's fault for not carrying his own weight, so can you blame him instead?

"It really is Buggy's fault, you know?" Mihawk cleared his throat from the entrance to your office, more papers in hand. Bounties for you, most likely.

Your eyes shut, already exhausted halfway through the workday. Crocodile watched you, clearly worried.

You're overworked.

You opened one eye, squinting at him.

And whose fault is that?

"Buggy's." Mihawk chimed in, setting the papers in front of you and pointing at one specific face of a vice admiral. "This one needs to be taken care of by the end of the week, please."

"Mihawk, you're nosier than you let off." Crocodile commented, still holding you tightly. There was never a point in hiding anything from Mihawk, who watched everything with a careful eye.

"Try harder to hide, then." He retorted, pouring himself tea from your drink station.

"When everyone already knows we're together?" You scoffed. "You, of all people, should know that both me and him have better things to worry about than how obvious we appear. It's just weird that you know what our glances mean."

"Context clues and inference." He hummed, sipping the piping cup. Again - your tea. For someone that appeared so cold, he was awfully open to using all of your things. He caught your stare on his hand, and waved you off. "Oh, please. I'll be washing it once I'm done."

"Like that." You pointed at him accusingly. "You shouldn't know what every glance I give means."

"It's not as difficult as you make it seem." He shot back, watching Crocodile gaze at you adoringly. "Really, it isn't."

"Can you leave?" Crocodile sighed, burying his face in your neck. He was still hunched over you awkwardly, like he couldn't just sit down beside you. His spine was practically snapping in half.

"I'd like to finish my tea."

"My tea." You grumbled. "Just take it with you. Bring the cup back when you've washed it."

Mihawk's eyes slid over the two of you. "I'll leave you to it." And shut the door behind him.

"Nosy bastard." Crocodile breathed in your ear, cigar in the ashtray and long forgotten. "Won't you come home tonight?"

You looked at him pointedly, pointer finger tapping your desk where the paper Mihawk had left you just minutes ago sat.

Needs to be done by the end of the week, remember?

Crocodile groaned, hugging you ever tighter. "Please, just leave it for tomorrow. It's been so long since we had a proper meal together, without Buggy wailing away in our ears. In the comfort of our own homes."

"As my boss, you really shouldn't be encouraging me to slack off, you know?" You laughed, standing up and forcing him to get off of you. He looked positively miserable - scar creasing as he wrinkled his nose at you, unamused. You beckoned for him to lean down, pressing a swift kiss to his mouth and ignoring how he leaned in heavily, drinking you in and enticing you not to pull away.

"As your husband," he began, leaning in once more and kissing your fingers as you held your hand across your mouth, preventing him from kissing you again, "I encourage you to spend time with me rather than allowing your job to encapsulate you."

"Tempting." You replied, pushing his face back gently. "But I have two other bosses that would like me to do my job, you know?"

Crocodile's ringed finger jutted out, pointing at a little note Mihawk had left you. "I beg to differ."

You can get this done in two days. Crocodile seems to miss you.

"Bastard." You grumbled.

"Careful." Crocodile sneered. "You're starting to make it seem like you want to work instead of see me."

"Now you're acting petty." You huffed, kissing him again. His hand found your waist, tightening, and you laughed into his mouth, but you pulled away nonetheless. "Fine, then. Will you cook for me?"

"Of course." He peppered kisses across your face, making you groan (though of course, you were amused and he knew that). "As long as you don't go around bragging about it."

[amostimprobabledream]

I've written like...1/3 of my Crocodile x Reader fic but now I'm worried it's Bad and Cringe.

[fragmentedgrimoire]

Hi! I beg of you, please elaborate on that crocodile soulmate au snippet you did 🫣 had me falling in love with a villain all over again 😅 your writing is absolutely wonderful, I hope you have a great day! 💙

Hello! Thank you so much you are so sweet!! Here is what I will share and elaborate on some world building-- the rest will come in later works ;D

In my soulmate's verse, marks only appear on their left ring finger once the bearer has broken any and all karmic ties from their past lies within this life. They have to be ready to receive as a soulmate bond is seen and revered as the Ultimate Gift that Life brings. Sometimes it never happens and leaves one bearer with their mark destined to never find their match.

In Crocodile's case, it's all he has ever wanted. But time has a funny way of making one grow old and bitter. He certainly does not believe in a fairy tale called love. Even without his hand, the Fates have funny ways of reminding him that his destiny is not up to him.

Essentially, once someone is ready to accept the love that has always been destined for him, it appears as a soul mark.

For the sake of easier explanation, one's soul mark will match their true love. (Nami having the 8-pointed star like a compass, her soulmate will also have it) It is divined by the gods and only appears once a person is truly ready.

He has had his soul mark since he was a young boy. It appeared on him from the age of ten. He was so elated when he first got it! Elation turned to uncertainty the more the years passed. That uncertainty turned to pained hopelessness. Hopelessness fades into bitterness. His soul mark had all but faded right before he lost his hand.

Years grow, and Crocodile has mostly chosen to ignore the faint tugging sensation that feels from his phantom limb. He considers it too good to be true. All of these years have passed; Crocodile starts to believe that you truly didn't exist. His childhood dreams were now dashed against harsh stones and something he considered foolish.

Going through countless business relationships and relationships that are nothing but mutual monetary gain without intimacy-- that was all he had known for so many years. It's his commonplace and he doesn't really know how to be anything else. As prideful as confident as he is, there is still a small part, no matter how tiny that piece may be, of his younger self asking if he is truly deserving of love.

It was laughable and cruelly poetic that in all of his miserable years, only now in his twilight years should he find the one fates had designed for him.

--

Stay tuned and happy reading!

[matsookawa]

Title: Human Error

Pairing: Crocodile x fem!reader

Word Count: 635

Summary: At the end of it all, he's simply a man who must face the consequences of his actions.

Note: I really enjoyed writing this! I like humanizing Crocodile a little.

Crocodile must have been standing behind the old wooden door for at least twenty minutes. The hallway was dark and he was happy to be swallowed in it. It’s much easier to hide in the shadows than face your fears, but it is also the philosophy of a coward. The right thing to do was enter, that he knew, yet his feet refused to move. He wasn’t ready. And he wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

He had lied to you.

You had spent the last two years under the impression that your husband was fatally wounded at Marineford. And he allowed this belief. He had his reasons, of course. He did not want you so at risk while he himself was exceptionally vulnerable.

Until this point, it all seemed like a decent idea. You were safe, he worked on establishing the Cross Guild, he’d return to you, and all would be well. Of course, he expected lividity, maybe you would speak of divorce at first, but he would talk you down from that ledge until you both resume where you left off.

What he did not expect were the stories he heard from several former Baroque Work employees who stayed behind with you. They spoke of how gaunt you became, how you only spoke lowly and never a decibel higher. They could hear you some mornings, cursing your husband’s name for leaving you alone while furniture slammed into walls. You even refused to move away from a safe house on the outskirts of Alabasta, desiring to remain close to your husband’s body, wherever that may have been.

Crocodile’s heart ached when the employees spoke of nightly wailing. Lasted for three months, they’d said, and mixed with your refusal to eat, they had broken into your room one night when your crying stopped because they feared the worst. It was then Crocodile realized his error in judgement.

All of this is what brought him to your bedroom door. Forced to confront what might have been his gravest sin.

Despite knowing it was what must be done, he could not bring himself to knock on your door. Maybe if he stood there forever, he could relish in the closeness of you without having to face the anguish that comes alongside it. The potential of you not forgiving him, of leaving him wholly and entirely.

“Who’s there?”

Your voice startled him.

So much so, he let out a sharp inhale through the nose that he attempted to quiet, but you heard anyway.

He did not answer.

It had been so long since hearing you speak that he chose to savor the sound instead.

“I said, who’s there?”

Your voice was firmer this time. Crocodile heard a lamp being flicked on and suddenly, yellow light was spilling from the crack at the bottom of the door.

He knew if he responded, you may not open the door. There was a chance you would conclude the whole thing a hallucination and go back to bed.

His heart rammed against his ribcage as he heard shuffling followed by footsteps inching toward the door.

There were shadows impeding the light below the door. Legs, Crocodile realized, as his throat went dry.

He could leave, a small part of him thought. Your forgiveness would still be possible, but so would your anger. If the door remained closed, he would never have to find out which one awaited him on the other side.

The doorknob began to turn.

It was in that moment, the universe presented Crocodile a choice. He could face the wife he had broken, or he could run before she told him exactly what he deserved to hear.

The decision was made then.

The door creaked open,

 and there you were.

A grieving widow peering into an empty hallway.

[loverrin]

| 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."

[txmxkis]

domestic things with crocodile on the mind... i think he takes pride in believing that there's very little he can't do on his own, but the truth of it is that some things are easier if you allow someone to help, and he needs to be reminded of that rather frequently.

you watch him get dressed once—after one of your meetings—and see that he's struggling with a button or his belt, so you ask if he wants you to try. he gruffly responds no, so you patiently wait a few more seconds, until finally he sighs in exasperation and allows you to step in. he watches you with an unreadable expression, but when you're done you give him a small smile and then move on, turning away from him to put your shoes on. a softness washes over him, a nearly indescribable feeling because he's never appreciated vulnerability in any sort of way, but somehow, just then, it was easier.

people rarely give him aid without strings attached, they've always wanted something from him in the past, but you never mention it afterwards, even when you're upset with him. he still doesn't like to ask for help, and rarely does, but he starts to accept more often when you offer, and relishes a little in the opportunity to be near you. not that he would ever say so.