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'Stressed out' doesn't even begin to cut into the flesh of how Crocodile has been lately. He should've followed his instincts and gutted that damn clown. Why did he even loan Buggy money in the first place? He knew it wouldn't make a profit. He knew that good for nothing clown was going to bounce. He knew he shouldn't have listened to Mihawk and beat the coins out of him. Living out of a circus tent, riding in a water-bound clown car, and the world sees him as an underling to "The Genius Jester." No, stressed out doesn't cut it.
The pile of cigars in the ashtray at the end of the day are almost double in quantity. Not even smoked all the way through from how hard he's been chewing on them. If the smell of tobacco didn't suffocate any room he entered, then his heavy fog of a mood did. Intimidation is something that came natural to Crocodile but this... It was enough to make a god cringe.
"You went over the budget again," Crocodile's voice rasped out in a smooth threat that lowly vibrated off the walls of the 'meeting room' accompanied by the patterned thud of his hook's tip against the wooden table. The papers that accused and accounted for Buggy's spending sprawled about.
"I-it was an accident, I swear! The guy charged me more than we agreed to and wouldn't give me– Gah!" Buggy's excuse is cut off by the heel of Crocodile's shoe being thrusted into his temple, making him hit the other side of his face against the wall from the sheer force of the kick.
"You're an Emperor of the Sea and a snake, yet you couldn't throw your weight around?" Crocodile's voice escalated in grit and volume as he stepped over and picked Buggy up by the roots of his hair. Mihawk, who'd been sitting at the table watching the 'meeting' in progress, picked up one of the papers. He really couldn't care less about getting dragged in here every time Buggy's antics went wrong or Crocodile felt the need to monologue about this Utopia plan.
Mihawk spoke up, looking over the edge of the paper in his hand to Crocodile who was reeling back to give Buggy a new hole, "He didn't go that far over the budget. I think you should stop for the day."
Crocodile paused, Buggy looking over to Mihawk as well. "You're trying to tell me what to do?" Crocodile's venom momentarily forgotten on Buggy, now directed at Mihawk. That's all he needed was someone making demands of him, putting his judgment into question.
"No," Mihawk set the paper down and stood up, the legs of his chair scratching the floor, "I'm merely suggesting that we keep the face of our organization intact. It would reflect poorly on the Guild if the clown makes public appearances bloody and beaten." He picked up his glass of wine in one hand and bottle in the other, going to head out of the room but was met with the curve of Crocodile's hook halting him.
"Don't believe for a second you alone call the shots." Crocodile and Mihawk held each other's gaze for a heated second until Mihawk squared his shoulders and continued on his path. Yes, he also beat on Buggy from time to time but where he had self-restraint and didn't get anything from it, the same couldn't be said for his business partner. Buggy, literally piecing himself together in the corner, sighed a shaky breath of relief. Safe for now but who knew how long that would last.
Mihawk's boots clicked against the ground as he walked towards his tent. The interaction was more bitter than the wine in his hands and left an unsavory film on his pallet. Everyone felt it, from the likes of that bloated lion all the way to Daz Bonez, and everyone was subject to it. Mihawk's brows furrowed at being on the receiving end so directly. A possible option to put an end to this appeared walking in the opposite direction of him: You.
Mihawk didn't stop when you passed each other but murmured out, "Do something about him. This is becoming ridiculous."
You stopped in your tracks, "Wha-" looking back over your shoulder at Mihawk's retreating figure. His murmured words caught you off guard completely. What was he talking about? Do something about him? About who? Crocodile? Most likely but why? You shook your head from the confusion and carried on. Truth be told, you hadn't engaged much with Crocodile the past few days, maybe it's been a week but who's keeping track at this point. Crocodile had his plate full recently and so have you. Most nights you'd be in bed and already asleep by the time he gets back to your shared quarters. You never felt him enter or exit the bed, most likely shifting as sand as to not wake you. Little words exchanged between you two, you weren't given much to go off to sense any changes in him. You decided then that you'd stay up longer tonight, see for yourself what was going on that had even the swordsman disturbed.
That night Crocodile arrived to your quarters late as expected, his eyes immediately going to look at the bed only to see you weren't already tucked in. Instead you were seated on the sofa at the other end of the space. "You're not in bed," His voice gravely and a hint of annoyance at the unexpected break in route as he walked towards you, letting his heavy coat drop off his shoulders and throwing it on the back of the sofa.
"We haven't really had a moment alone, I thought it'd be nice if we had some. Even for a little while," you gave him an inviting smile while he took up the empty spot next to you.
"Aren't you a sweetheart." he grunted, stretching his arms out on the backrest. You shifted on the sofa to reach up and start unclasping his hook. Anyone else dumb enough to try that would've been promptly dealt with but given your history together, you became the only person he'd allow to fumble with his hook. Crocodile sighed heavily once he felt the pressure release from around his forearm, you slipping off the heavy prosthetic and placing it on the side table. With his hand, he grabs at his scarf, tugging the fabric from off his neck and at the same time kicking off his loafers from his feet.
"C'mon, you can't deny it's been a minute since we've had some one-on-one time," you reach back over to him and help him get more comfortable by undoing the buttons to his vest then shirt, the fabric eventually hanging loose on his chiseled frame and you couldn't help but let your hand linger on the middle of his chest, barely pressing a bit of weight against him as you lean in close enough for your breath to fan against the collar of his shirt, "let me take care of you?" Your offer in the form of a question, giving him the power to dictate the night as always.
He regarded you for what felt like too long, just staring down at you with that look of indifference that was permanently etched into his face. You knew better than to have some kind of expectation or get your hopes up but you couldn't help yourself after all this time.
Before you could exhale and slip your hand from off his chest in defeat he spoke up, "Alright," you perked back up and he gestured his head to the cabinet in the corner, "Fetch me one of the better cigars, and pour me a glass while you're at it." His voice was still firm but lacking that initial bite he had when he first came in. You couldn't help that giddy grin that curled the edges of your lips, craning up to leave a peck on his cheek then moving on to your tasks.
You open up the cabinet that was stocked with an assortment of liquors and boxes of cigars. Old reliables, reserves, ones he's acquired over the years. You picked out a classic glass and placed two ice cubes in it, then uncorked the bottle of whiskey he favored and poured it over the rocks. With his drink made, you moved to grab the box of cigars that was higher up, taking one and cutting the tip. You turned back to him with drink and cigar in hand to see he'd been watching you the entire time. Watching you make your way back, he took mental note of how you knew his preferences down to the last detail, impressive yet with the hint of unsettling. But that was just his mind at play with him, a thought he shook off once you held out the cigar for him to wrap his lips around and placed the glass in his outreached hand. You then leaned over the couch and dug into his coat's pocket, taking out his gold lighter and flicking it open, allowing for him to toast and light the cigar. Crocodile took in a deep huff, savoring the rich flavors of tobacco in his mouth before exhaling the plume of smoke upwards, away from you. He then plucked the cigar from between his lips, maneuvering it in his hand that held the glass so he could take a sip from his drink.
You couldn't resist watching, seeing him at ease was a rare sight. His muscles under his unbuttoned and open top relaxed and softened. Your eyes ventured down to his pants, still on and buckled unfortunately but you can fix that. You step between his open legs and kneel down before him, hands slowly sliding up from his knees, giving his thighs a squeeze as your hands trail up to his belt. Crocodile cocked a brow down at you, looking past the rim of the glass to meet your intentful gaze, "Let's get these off you, yes?" You hummed, slipping the leather of his belt out of the buckle.
"You're spoiling me," Crocodile let out as a huff. Go figure nothing ever went as smoothly as you wanted them to with Crocodile. Overt kindness and servitude were only quid pro quo in his world. His loins might be heated but that nasty mood was still leading him.
"Is it so wrong? You've been doing so much lately, I think you deserve to get spoiled, and I want to." You said with your hands paused at the button of his pants.
Crocodile grunted and set the glass down on the table next to him, "Won't argue with that." You nodded and gave him a reassuring smile, proceeding to unbutton and unzip his pants. You hooked your fingers around the waistband of his pants and underwear and with him raising his lips slightly off the couch, allowed you to slide them down his thighs and dropped around his ankles. Crocodile sighed out when the colder air of the quarters made contact with his heated cock.
Your mind could never comprehend the absolute beast he kept in those slacks. Intimidating even in his semi-erect state. Length to match his height which was already more than too much, but his girth is what has you mentally preparing for the cramping your hands will be experiencing once again when you wrap them around him. Heavy balls to match. "You've got your work cut out for you, love." Crocodile said with a pronounced twitch of his cock and placed his cigar back between his lips. He relaxed further into the sofa, letting his arms span out across the back and tilted his head, letting his eyes fall closed.
You began with his thighs, slowly rubbing back and forth on the insides of them, feeling thick muscle giving as you massaged your way inward and grabbed the base of his cock with one hand while the other smoothed over and under his balls. God, he's heavy. You can't even get your hands fully around either. You gently massage his balls, rolling gently between them in your palm. Your other hand gives the base of his cock a rhythmic squeeze, getting the blood to flow more inorder to stiffen him up further. His cock twitched in your hand, a bead of precum pearling at his slit. Now was the best time to take him in your mouth and give yourself enough time to adjust to him. You wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock, fingers barely meeting, and brought your head down. With the tip of your tongue, you swiped off that bead of precum off his swollen head which made more seep out. You hear Crocodile exhale smoke and peek your eyes up to see the curve of his neck and jaw, head resting back. The sight of him slowly giving in made you smile and poke your tongue out again, this time giving him a longer lick from his frenulum to his slit, making his hips buck from the sudden stimulation. "Teasing." his voice a growl around the cigar.
"Right, sorry." a murmured apology passed your lips. He'd sometimes let you get away with teasing him for a short while but tonight wouldn't be the rare occasion. A single breath fanned over his tip before you parted your lips, slowly sinking your head down around his cock. He began hardening more and more in your mouth as you sunk further. You were halfway down his shaft with his tip nudging at the start of your throat. You slide your lips back up to his tip and suck while your hands pumped your saliva all along his shaft, making it easier to glide your hands. Slowly you start bobbing your head back down on his cock. Lips meeting knuckles at the halfway point with every pump up and down, up and down.
Crocodile placed his hand at the back of your head, "You can take more than that, I've seen it." Your eyes connected with his which were now looking down at you, his cigar placed into the ashtray on the table. Wide-eyed, swollen lips, mouth full of cock. The sight alone had him take whatever semblance of self control he had to not start face-fucking you at his own pace. No, why should he put in that work when you had so kindly offered to do it? He tapped his index against your head, prompting you to get to it.
He's right. You've gone down further on him before and he deserves your full effort again. You inhale deeply, refocusing yourself then sliding your mouth down his cock again, this time letting his cock pass into your throat more and more with each pass. You held your hands onto either side of his groin, grounding yourself, focusing on the feeling of him under your hands and your steady breathing rather than the feeling of his cock rubbing in and out of your sensitive organ. Your muffled whimpering and moans reverberated against his cock. "That's it," he grunted, his fingers gripping your head just a little tighter, "keep it up." Your brows furrowed up, eyes fogging over with the effort it was taking to suck and bob your head on his cock, jaw aching from being held open so wide. Sucking him off truly was a labor of love with how long he lasts. Your efforts were paying off though, resonating in the way his hips started jerking up in tandem with your descending mouth and his breaths coming out as huffs. He was close, his queues were small but you recognized them. You close your eyes and groan out, an encouragement for him to find his release.
You're abruptly pulled from your trance and sputtering, eyes blinking rapidly trying to figure out what the hell happened. Crocodile had placed his hand on your chin and pulled you off his cock, leaving you reeling. "Crocodile...?" You question through coughs, your body trying to adjust from the abrupt loss of fullness. His cock twitched furiously, veins matching the one that pulsed on his forehead. You were left was saliva coating your lip and chin, wondering what made him pull away before he could finish but that was quickly answered when he leaned down and wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you up off your knees and against him as he stood up, hauling you up with him, your feet dangling. He stepped out of his pants which were previously still pooled at his ankles and walked with you in his arm towards the bed.
Crocodile lets you drop down on your stomach onto the mattress below. You go to prop yourself up but you're met with the base of his residual left arm between your shoulders, pinning you to the bed with his weight alone while he grabbed the waistband of your bottoms and slid them off in one smooth yank. "Get your shirt off." He said as he shifted into position behind you and removed his arm. You followed without question or hesitation, worming your top off while he nudged his legs between yours, making you spread your thighs on the outside of his. He himself shrugged off his vest and shirt you had only undone the buttons to. Looking down at you, he drank in the sight of you bare and ready for him, his hand instinctively giving his cock a few pumps from such a stimulating view then placing the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole. He teased you with the tip, applying only enough pressure for his cock to press then slip against you. Your hands ball the sheets under you, teeth clapping at your already swollen lips, "Croc—oooh..." He cut you off, sliding the head of his cock into you.
"Mmm, do you have something to complain about?" He thrusted the rest of his length into you while gripping your hip with his one hand and pulling you back until his hips met your ass, making you choke between a gasp and a moan. Stuffed to the absolute brim with his cock, your inners pulsed and throbbed with the intrusion, adjusting as quickly as you could.
"Mm-mmh," you shook your head 'no' to his rhetorical question, face buried in the sheets, you had nothing to complain, let alone think about, with him sheathed inside you.
Crocodile finally let a grin crack his face, "Good. Keep that attitude." With that, he pulled back and held your hip in place until just his tip remained. He held there for a second before snapping his hips forward and filling you back up fully, making you whine out as he repeated the slow withdrawal only to snap back into you over and over. It felt like all the frustration built up within him manifested and dripped release with each thrust. His speed starts picking up, wet skin making contact over and over echoing in the room along with your muffled moans and his breaths growing heavy. He leaned down over you, body caging yours between his and the mattress while he drilled down into you. Heavy breaths turned panting in your ear that matched the rhythm of him pulling in and out. Your asscheeks felt raw and sore from how hard he pounded his sturdy hips against you, sure to leave bruises by tomorrow. He shifted his weight on top of you which angled his cock to jab at your sweet spot, making you snap your head up and from its place nestled in the sheets and cry out - the perfect opportunity for him to nip at your neck.
"Crocodile, right there!" Your voice shook with desperation, a prayer he answered with a deep growl and continued pounding away at that spot. You went to try and shift your hips back to meet his thrusts but he wrapped both arms under you, holding you to the mercy of the weight of his body and punishing thrusts. Your body trembled in his hold, orgasm building up into a tight knot in your nethers until the tension finally wound so tight it snapped on itself and left you in a state of euphoria.
Your inner walls gripped Crocodile's cock with a vice that had him hiss between his teeth, seeing stars and getting sloppy with his thrusts. The orgasm he denied himself earlier was right on the precipice, making his body tense up and hips snapping on their own accord until he spilt forth with a final and deep plunge into you. A hearty groan leaving his lips. His cum spurted out deep within you with enough force you could feel it painting you along with every pulse and twitch of his cock.
Crocodile went slack, still on top of you, still holding you tight underneath him. If he weren't so damn heavy you might have managed to catch your breath by now, "Crocodile, you gotta move," your request was met with a rumble of acknowledged as he begrudgingly pulled himself out of you and rolled onto his side, arms still wrapped around you and brining you with him. You turned in his arms to face him and shifted up enough that his head was just below yours. The two of you were a mess of cum and sweat but neither of you were running to get clean. Gently, you started brushing the hair that stuck to his face back, fingertip gently grazing the stitched scar on his face. Looking down at his face he had his eyes closed and hair a stringy mess, you couldn't recall the last time you've seen him so sated, so content.
The following day came but at a slower, more eased manner for you and Crocodile. Still business as usual but something definitely back on the right key.
"Heyyy, Croc! About that thing with the budget yesterday..." Buggy approached Crocodile with caution. Walking at a slightly faster pace to keep up with Crocodile's strides as he made his way to the main tent, Daz flanked at his other side.
"Hm? Right. Consider it added on to your debt to me." His dismissed Buggy with a wave of his hook. Buggy and Daz looked at each other, both having a shared moment of 'is that it?'. Buggy was not about to stick around and find out, saving himself and booking it in the other direction.
Daz, taken back by Crocodile reaction or lack thereof, cleared his throat before speaking up, treading his words lightly, "He should consider himself lucky to be on your good side today."
"He's not worth the effort," Crocodile responded frankly. He wasn't thinking that yesterday or the day before that's for sure. Whatever caused the sudden switch up was more than welcomed. The two reached the main tent. Mihawk was already sitting on the green couch with Yoru on his lap and a cloth in his hand.
"Polishing your sword, Mihawk?" Crocodile said in jest, his sarcastic joke making himself smirk. Mihawk paused his hand over the blade, finally looking up at Crocodile and giving him a nod of acknowledgement.
"You're in a chipper mood," Mihawk couldn't resist probing, seeing if he would shift on a hair-trigger or if he was genuinely calmer. He could only hope you did or said something to lighten ol’ Crank-o-dile up and by the looks of if, you certainly did. "what's brought on the sudden change?" Crocodile took the seat to the left of Mihawk and lit up his cigar, taking an inhale of smoke and releasing it with his signature grin,
"I have no clue what you're talking about."