Ready for an Adventure!?

~~~

Penguin feels the headache brewing in his temples and unilaterally decides that whatever scheme Law is concocting in his isolation chamber of an office can take a swan dive off the nearest cliff.

Shachi has sensed something is wrong he is sure, clever sharp eyes watching him with a bit more weary gravitas than usual. He’s sure he passes something along to someone as when they make their way to the galley, Clione is already presenting him with a mug of freshly brewed tea.

“Relax Penguin.” Shachi warns, or soothes, Penguin isn’t really sure between the small beginning pulses of irritating pain.

“You aren’t the one that has to reorganise the shifts today.” He hisses, huffing when he sees Clione bail from their three person huddle with a weary shake of his head and a half arsed excuse of getting lunch started.

Shachi frowns, “Peng, how long have you been working?”

Startled is the only way to describe his current emotion, the thrum of static where his brain should be going silent like a record scratch as he does some shoddy math in his head.

“Like a week?” He more asks than states, feeling the annoyance rush back between a wave of pain in his head as he remembers that Law is the one at fault here, “You can’t blame me, Captain has a been locked in his office for days, I’m filling in.”

Shachi looks guilty a little, his shoulders tense and hunching up, minute shifts that Penguin’s mind latches onto, trying to distract himself from concentrating too much on his rising headache, “You could have said Peng, Bepo and I could have lightened the load.”

Penguin returns a throaty scoff that his red headed brother scowls at, “Yes, because you and Bepo have had so much free time this week.”

“We could have made time and you know it.” Shachi snipes back, puffing his cheeks like he used to when he was a child and he thought people were being unreasonable, “I was in weapons maintenance and development and cleaning our backup air scrubbers while Bepo is updating his map collection, organising the medical files and trying not to die of heat exhaustion while submerged. Hardly stuff that can’t wait.”

Penguin, if he were in a more rational frame of mind, more thought, less wave of pain, probably would have conceded the point. He would have admitted he stretched himself thin, go complain dramatically to the Captain and then would have spent the next few days in a foggy sleepy stupor while Law guiltily stalks the Polar Tang like a skittish wild animal trying to socialise.

But Penguin isn’t in a rational frame of mind and that makes him more stubborn than a dog with a bone. He grumbles instead, steely eyes narrowing at Shachi who glowers right back, crossing his arms, showing off the red ink of his tribal tattoos as the rolled up sleeves of his boiler suit stretch taut over his elbows.

Some of the other Hearts who had been milling around off duty are suddenly paying more attention, Skua and Seiuchi giving each other warning glances before scuttling off to no doubt gossip about Penguin and Shachi having a very rare but often legendarily explosive tiff.

“Well maybe if Law doesn’t shut himself in his office like a hermit every chance he gets I would get some peace.” Penguin growls, knowing he isn’t being fair to the Captain but allowing his frustration to simmer a little higher.

Shachi’s scowl deepens into a few sharp teeth being bared in a sneer, his easily triggered temper flaring at the stubborn exhausted man before him. “Peng, I’m saying this once before I do something about it, Go. To. Bed.”

There’s a sharp barb on his tongue, Penguin can feel it, feel their unique synergy as Shachi and Penguin, Penguin and Shachi destabilising the longer he waits, sulking and stewing, daring Shachi to make the first move that would send them squabbling like boxing hares across the floor.

The stare down is brought to an inglorious end by the Captain himself, disheveled and with bags under his eyes so dark it’s like the man had decided to take make up pointers from a goth. Law wanders into the galley, barely acknowledging anything but Clione who hastily passes him a large mug of decaffeinated coffee.

The Captain was on a timeout of his regular brew due to some complications last week that had him vibrating like the Polar Tang at full throttle and seeing into the sixth dimension. Turns out just randomly buying coffee beans from a remote tropical island town renowned for its psychedelics was a bad idea.

Penguin uncharitably wished the younger man would choke, sinking to lay his head on the table, to sore and tired to even think about tackling the new addition to their table as Law slots himself in beside Shachi at the wall.

“One of your First Mate’s is being an idiot.” Shachi tattles immediately, earning a distracted middle finger from Penguin who is finding the shimmery reflective surface of the table fascinating in the sheltered bower of his arms.

“Sounds about right.” Law rasps, ruffled and sporting the ‘just out of bed’ look that usually has Ikkaku shouting ‘Slay Queen!’ in the corridor when she spots it, “Are you involved?”

“I’m about to be.” Shachi comments, peering over his ever present shades smugly as Penguin, still holding his middle finger up begins to rotate his forearm so his displeasure swivels in circles between them both.

Law raises a brow sensing that something else is going on beyond the rumours of a squabble that had reached his ears from the rapid jungle drums of the morning ship gossip, “Peng?”

“You suck.” Penguin says moodily, barely having it in him to feel smug when Law looks shockingly offended and Shachi whistles lowly, holding up his hands in surrender when the Captain venomously turns to the red head for an explanation.

“He’s been working for a week straight, barely any sleep.” Shachi continues to sing like a canary, nervously sweating when Law’s tattooed fingers begin rippling against the table, “I’m trying to get him to go to bed.”

“Why have you been up?! We’re not scheduled to make it to the next island for another week!” Law hisses sourly, kicking Penguin in the shin.

“Because someone has to keep the submarine running while you get lost in the fifth text book over muscle structure.” Penguin snarls, brain completely gone, booting the Captain back with probably more force than necessary when Law gives a loud grunt upon impact, “I make the schedule, so stick to it you inconsiderate ass!”

“Are we doing a Mutiny?” A cheerful voice chirps from over them, all three gazing up into the soft black eyes of their little brother.

“Oh thank god, Bepo you’re here.” Shachi puffs a nervous laugh, “No mutiny today. Law is being good.”

“Stop calling putting me in my bed a Mutiny.” Law snaps, still locked in a glaring match with Penguin, fingers flexing like he needs to strangle something, preferably the older man in front of him judging by his face.

“I can get the spray bottle?” Bepo frets kindly, Penguin smiling with a taunting air as Law turns to the bear scandalised.

“Bepo!” The name is said with such wide eyed betrayal the bear immediately caves like a stack of a wet paper towels, bleating a sad ‘sorry!’ with his rounded ears pinned back.

“Yeah Law, fear the sea water spray bottle.” Penguin cajoles, aware on some level he is digging his own grave through what is now turning into a migraine when the lights of the galley begin to burn and throb his nerves.

“It’s Penguin that is the problem!” Law snaps, throwing up his hands, “I just got here!”

Shachi peers over his shades again, concern glimmering in his eyes, before actually leaning forward and pressing his hand rather rudely into Penguin’s personal space, shifting fingers against his throbbing skull.

“Peng, you are hot.”

Penguin, feeling the cooling relief of Shachi’s frigid fingers, sighs in delight, “Not too bad yourself ‘Chi.”

“I think he has a migraine Law.” Shachi says lowly, fighting to reclaim his hand as Penguin makes a protesting noise when he leans back.

“Of course he does.” Law rolls his eyes, Bepo anxiously wringing his hands, “Typical he’s only this sassy and argumentative when I can’t hit him.”

The Captain throws back the last dregs of his coffee and spins a ‘room’ around them, hand tilting in a familiar gesture that has them suddenly in the Captain’s room.

Bepo grabs a fully rag doll protesting Penguin, the man whining about how it hurts to think, flattening him out on the bed as Shachi gets a wet cloth.

“You’re off duty for a few days Penguin.” Law says with a put upon sigh, huffing a barely there laugh when the delirious man raises his hands in celebration, “We’ll cover for you.”

While some shook their heads or rolled their eyes at your bubbly and kind nature, customers took note, and you were always tipped nicely at the end of your day.

While collecting your next tray of drinks from the bartender, you noticed a man sitting by himself down by the end of the bar, large and imposing with an air of importance lingering around him the same way his cigar smoke did. The gold hook that sat where his right hand should glinted in the casino lights, almost blinding you if you looked too long. You raised an eyebrow at the new bartender who shook his head with a frown, leaning over to murmur down at you, “I ain't servin’ him, he looks like he'd kill me if I even breathed in his direction wrong.”

You glance over at your table and notice they're deeply immersed in their game so you took the chance and walked behind the bar, placing the sweetest smile you could muster on your face as you made your way to the larger man. “My apologies for the wait honey, can I grab you a drink?”

You're able to take him in better now, the scar across his face only making him more attractive in your mind. He looks you up and down with golden amber eyes, mirth playing in his gaze with a raised eyebrow as he drawls out, “whiskey, neat.”

His voice sends a shivering ripple over your skin though you're quick to serve him, trying not to let his stare turn you into a pile of mush. You place his glass in front of him, happy with the way he looks impressed as he picks it up and takes a sip. “You gave me the high shelf?” He asks, his tone low as he watches to see if you squirm.

“I did.” You reply with another smile, tilting your head slightly as you add, “On me, for making you wait. My apologies again, you shouldn't have had to wait as long as you did.”

The man hums in agreement but says nothing else about it, though he adds with a small smirk, “You have my thanks.” You simply nod once before giving him a small wave and turn to walk from behind the bar.

You gave the bartender a glaring look that read ‘see how hard that was?’ before snatching the tray off the bar and taking the drinks to the furthest blackjack table, ignoring the way the hooked man continued to watch you. The four men sitting there cheered as you placed down the drinks. One man, dressed in a blue velvet suit, took the chance to place his hand on your ass with a smirk as he immediately downed his liquor in celebration.

“Ah, you make a great lucky charm, pretty girl! You should stick around me, I'll make you richer than you could imagine.”

Your trained smile slides over your lips as you casually and gently turn him down, politely moving a step to the side so his hand falls from your body. “Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to be considered a lucky charm for any of the guests, it would cause a major disruption,” you tried to joke, giving him your brightest smile as you added, “congrats, though! That's a very exciting win for you. Can I grab you gentlemen anything else before I check my other tables?”

There's a chilling silence that falls over the men until the one that grabbed you earlier spoke again, spite dancing on his tongue as he snaps, “Well, unless you're going to change your mind and join me for dinner…” The man on his left smacks his arm, frowning at him as he murmurs, “Stop it Jay, you're gonna get us kicked out.”

Still holding your professionalism tight to your chest, you tilt your head slightly with your smile wavering as you ask again, “Is there anything else-”

You're cut off as the blue velvet clad man reaches out and grips around one of your wrists, tightly enough that you suck in a shocked breath as you drop the serving tray. Your smile falls from your face as you bite out, “Let go.”

Jay's hand only tightened, his face bright red and clearly irritated with you shooting him down in front of his friends. He sneers at you, wrenching you closer to him and ignoring your small sound of pain as he seethes, “I spend a lot of beri here. So much, in fact, that I think you don't have a right to deny me a single thing, little girl. If I want you to sit on my lap and laugh at my jokes, that is exactly what you're going to do.”

You glance up at the burly man suddenly standing behind Jay, his arms crossed with an unimpressed expression of his own etched across his face. With a shaved head and a massive tattoo on his chest, you immediately knew this was Mr. 1, one of the closest people to your boss and boy, did he look pissed.

“Unhand our employee.”

Jay freezes, fear slowly rising over his face as he slowly turns to the towering man behind him. He flashes Mr. 1 an embarrassed grin, chuckling weakly as he finally releases you, even going so far as to apologize with a wavering voice. “My apologies, ma'am, I see the error of my ways now. I won't bother you again.”

Mr. 1 is uninterested with the apology though, only demanding from the velvet clad man, “Tip her for her troubles.”

Jay gives a low tsk, huffing to himself with a mumbled, “o-oh of course,” as he digs into his suit jacket and pulls out a wad of beri. He flicks through it but Mr. 1 simply places a heavy hand on his shoulder and raises his unibrow on one side as if challenging him.

Jay clenches his teeth in irritation, sliding a fake smile over his lips as he nearly slaps the entire wad into your slightly sweaty palm. “Thank you for your fantastic service.” He nearly sneers, contempt mingled in his words though you pay it no mind.

“Thank you for your gracious tip, sir! I hope you have the night you deserve.” You then give Mr. 1 a small nod with a thankful smile before you turn and head towards the staff room near the back of the casino off to the side. You ignore the pointed stare the scarred man at the bar gives you as you briskly walk past, blinking back angry tears as you whip open a door that reads Employee's Only and slam it shut. Luckily, it's loud enough on the casino floor that no one pays any mind.

Once inside, you pace back and forth after throwing the bundle of cash into your tiny locker, making sure it was locked tight before letting your mind go over the last few moments. In a sudden fit of rightly placed rage, you kick a chair across the room with a shout, your breathing heavy as you try to manage your wild emotions.

“Girl, what the fuck is going on in here?!”

You jump as the other door in the room that leads to a washroom/makeup room opens and Leah, your fellow bottle girl peeks her head out, face half painted in high end makeup as she readies herself for her own shift. Confusion and worry etched across her face as she takes you in, not used to seeing you so worked up.

Angry tears well in your eyes and you look to the ceiling, wiping gently at your waterline as to not smudge your own intricately done makeup before you croak out pathetically, “I just wish some of these men would take no for a fucking answer.”

Leah gives you an understanding look before motioning for you to join her so she could keep getting ready.

You hop up on an empty counter as she slides onto a plush stool and turns back to one of the massive mirrors. She lines her other eye with black eyeliner and glances at you in the mirror, watching as you slowly swing your feet back and forth as if you were a small child being reprimanded.

“Sweetie, you've been here long enough to know that, unfortunately, this is just the way things go sometimes. Did someone at least come and collect you?”

You absent-mindedly rubbed at your now bruising wrist and gave a small nod as you murmured, “Mr. 1 came over and got the guest to let go of me.”

Leah whipped around at that, shock on her face as she slowly asked, “Mr. 1? Are you sure? Like, the Big Boss's right hand guy? Mr big and burly and no nonsense? He came to your rescue?!”

You nod, tilting your head slightly as you ask, “I mean, he's always out on the floor keeping an eye on things, I'm not surprised he did his job to make sure I was alright.”

Leah spins in her chair, an incredulous look on her face as she tries to explain, “Do you remember about a month ago, when I had that blow out with that high roller at the furthest poker table?”

You nod again, unsure of where she was going with her story. “Of course I do, that was fucked up! Why do you ask?”

She huffs slightly, rolling her eyes as she turns back to the mirror, patting her cheeks with a light peachy blush as she almost bitterly bites out, “Yeah, well, our darling Mr. 1 was watching from the bar, having a conversation with one of the bartenders, and decided it wasn't worth his time to come over and say something. That's why Jini had to step in.”

You vividly remember the poker dealer stepping in and nearly taking the guests head off, only to be brought to the back and came back to the floor with a black eye. While Leah was given the rest of the week off to recuperate from the ordeal, Jini had decided to quit and left without even so much as a goodbye.

You looked down at your intertwined hands in your lap as you then remembered reading about his dead body ending up on the casino steps a few days later. The thought of ever quitting left your mind that day, knowing you forever belonged to Rain Dinners and your boss. Sir Crocodile was a cunning and incredibly intelligent man, so it was no wonder he wouldn't let anyone with information about him or his casino be let out into the world.

“So riddle me this, girlfriend.”

You raise an eyebrow at Leah as she stares you down from the mirror, an almost accusatory look in her eyes as she tightly demands, “What makes you so goddamn special that Mr. 1 of all people decided to step in and help you out? Hmm?”

Guilt riddled your entire body at her words, even as you gave a slight shrug, trying not to let the hurt from her tone affect you. “I… I don't know.”

Leah simply watches you, her lips pursed into a tight line until she finally sighs, loud and slightly annoyed as she goes back to adding a bit more blush. “Well, whatever you did, you better keep it up. Remember, if you're not an asset-”

“You're a liability.” You finish quietly, hating how your stomach flipped and churned at the thought of your own body ending up bloodied and brutalized on the steps of the casino.

There's a heavy knock on the change room door that causes both of you to jump. After a few moments, you hop off the counter and go to the door, opening it slightly and looking up to see none other than Mr. 1 standing there, his usual blank scowl on his face as he demands, “You need to come with me.”

A chill runs up your spine at his tone, worry seeping into your bones as you give a slow nod. “A-alright…”

You look back at Leah who gives you a strong nod of her own, as if giving you the strength to walk out the door. Mr. 1 then glances over your head, an easy feat, and notices who's sitting at the mirrors. “Leah, you've got 32 minutes. Hurry up and hit the floor.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath, “Yeah, yeah, you got it.”

She gives you another pointed stare before going back to finishing her makeup, pretending not to be curious as to why you were being pulled away.

As Mr. 1 leads you out of the back room and takes you to a set of golden doors, which slide open to reveal an elevator of all things. Mr. 1 steps in and motions for you to do the same, which you do with a silent sigh through your nose. The doors slide shut almost immediately and the elevator starts moving, going up and up for what feels like forever until a small bell dings and the doors slide open once more.

You're led into a massive office space, one side covered in one sided glass windows that look out to the casino floor, and the other what looked like a giant aquarium. You felt curiosity and slight confusion at seeing the empty glass, simply deciding to pay it no mind as Mr. 1 leads you further in.

He stops you just in front of a large oak desk, covered in stacks of paper, a personal den den mushi, a pen with an inkwell, multiple cigars with a gold lighter, and a-

Your brain freezes as you take in the drink on the desk. You notice the glass as the ones used only in the bar, and the top shelf whiskey that sits in the glass, as if mocking you, even as the scent of familiar cigar smoke fills your senses.

“Welcome.”

That voice.

Another chill runs down your spine as the chair at the desk suddenly turns, and a glint from the golden hook attached to the man sitting in the chair catches you off guard.

“You seem surprised.”

Your eyes flicker to those amber ones from earlier, sending a warm wave of something through your body as you slowly reply, “I suppose I am a little surprised.”

A smirk comes over the man's face as he puffs out a large plume of smoke. “I don't think I need to introduce myself,” he begins, though he tilts his head in an offer as he adds, “and neither do you, Y/N.”

You blink a few times, clearly shocked that he knew your name though you agree with a small smile, “I suppose not, Sir Crocodile.”

Crocodile gives a pleased hum, that smirk still etched into his lips as he takes a sip from his glass. “I'm… appreciative of you for stopping what you were doing to serve me, and so kindly as well. I'm pleased to know my guests are in incredibly capable hands.”

You give him another smile, equally pleased that he was happy with your skills. “Thank you, sir. I try my very best to make sure our guests leave happy enough to return at another time.”

Crocodile sits back in his chair, his large hands holding his glass and cigar in his ringed fingers expertly, gently swirling the whiskey as he asks, “Are you happy working for me, Y/N?”

You give him a small nod, answering genuinely, “I truly do. I must be one of a billion people who actually enjoy customer service. I find that if I'm able to change even just one guests day, then I go home feeling like I've done my job right.”

There's a low hum from your boss as he looks from you to Mr. 1, who gives a nod and goes back towards the elevator. You turn to watch but Crocodile pulls you from your curiosity with a simple, “Come here.”

You turn back to him and take the few steps around the desk, standing a mere foot away from him, much closer than you'd been when he was sitting at the bar. He gently places his glass and cigar down before holding his hand out to you, palm up as he asks lowly, “Do you trust me, Y/N?”

In a burst of courage, you teasingly ask, “Should I?”

He raises an eyebrow at your cheekiness, huffing a small chuckle as his hand moves closer to your body. When it lands on your waist, his thumb presses over your hip bone covered by your pencil skirt, almost lovingly as he admits, “Yes, you should.”

He pulls you a little closer, still taller than you even sitting in his chair. You glance from his thick neck to his face, your head tilting back slightly to look up at him as he continues, “I ask one last time… do you trust me?”

You take a near silent breath before you admit yourself, “Yes, sir. I trust you.”

He gives a wolfish grin before letting you go to pick up his den den receiver, barking into it. “Send that pathetic whelp in.”

A few moments later, Mr. 1 returns from the elevator with someone in tow, carried by two men dressed in black suits. You almost gasp as you take in the battered form of Jay, the blue velvet dressed guest from earlier; blood leaking from a busted eyesocket, teeth missing from his bloodied mouth, multiple broken fingers and sobbing like a newborn baby.

The two men in black throw him to the marble flooring carelessly, everyone in the room ignoring the way he yelps like a wounded animal.

You watch with wide eyes as he slowly peels himself from the floor and looks up, fear and regret on his face until he notices you. Immediate rage overtakes the fear as he hoarsely snarks out, “You bitch. You couldn't handle the heat so you went and tattled to your boss? Pathetic.”

You sneer at him, your own anger taking over though you remain silent, even as Crocodile rests his hand on your waist once more.

“You've come to my casino quite often, haven't you?”

Jay huffs angrily, spitting blood onto the flooring without a care as he bites out, “Obviously. Almost five hundred thousand beri, to be exact.”

Crocodile grins wickedly at that. “Is that so?”

His hook slams into a paper on his desk, the tip stabbing into the paper and lifting it off the desk. He then holds it out to you, which you take with gentle hands. Crocodile notices the lack of fear as he brandishes his hook at you, another pleased hum rumbling in his chest before he asks you, “Read that out for me, sweetheart.”

Warmth covers you like honey at the petname, your cheeks tinted pink as you clear your throat and read out,

“Jay Miton. Age 39. Entered the casino May 18th, 189 days ago. Has spent a total of-”

You stop as a small grin comes over your face, unable to keep the snicker from escaping as you nearly laugh out, “Has spent a total of two hundred and eighty six beri.”

Crocodile laughs loudly as Jay's face burns dark red, embarrassed to the nth degree as he shouts, “Th-that's wrong! You're lying!”

Unable to stay quiet at that, you finally snap, “There's no reason for him to lie! You're just a sad, broke, balding little man who has no use in this life! The only liar I see in this room is you. At your big boy age, how are you not embarrassed?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Even with the noise canceling windows, you could faintly hear cheering and talking from the casino floor with how quiet it got.

Then, thunderous laughter from Crocodile echoed in the room. His hand patted your side as he barked out, “Right she is! How are you not embarrassed to not only be proved as a liar but also as a useless carcass?”

Jay looks close to tears again, not used to having his ego so wounded by not only a man like Crocodile, but also by you, a seemingly simple bottle girl. He gives no response, which causes Mr. 1 to roughly kick him in the stomach. “Sir Crocodile has asked you a question, you will answer.”

In defiance, Jay spits on Mr. 1's shoes, glaring up at the much bigger man as he seethes out, “Eat shit, unibrow.”

There's a sudden rumble from the not so empty aquarium and you almost jump as a ginormous bananawani swims up to the glass. Your mouth drops open in shock, taking in the massive jaw and burning red eyes as they seem to glare at the bloodied man on the floor.

“Perfect timing.” Crocodile purrs, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap, pulling you from your surprised stupor. The curved tip of his hook meets your chin as he turns your head to look up at him as he asks, “Do you want me to feed him, or do you, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widen, blinking a few times as your mind takes in his words, and you find yourself so enamored by his gaze that you don't realize the words coming out of your own mouth.

“I want to.”

A pleased grin comes over Crocodile's face as his hook turns your face back towards the man cowering on the floor.

“N-no, please, I- we can f-figure something out-”

Crocodile gives Mr. 1 a look, causing the latter to swiftly kick Jay in the stomach, hard enough to cause him to roughly cough out a disturbing amount of blood. He was clearly bleeding internally, and his outsides were about to match the wrecked insides.

“N-no, no!”

You slowly removed yourself from Crocodile as one of the men dressed in black taps on a small strip of brick beside the aquarium, revealing a small, black button that he then motions for you to press.

Jay continues to weep from the floor, his hands just brushing over your ankles and calves, smearing his blood all over your sheer tights and black stilettos. His begging pleas go in one ear and out the other as Mr. 1 kicks Jay to a certain pattern in the middle of the tiled floor.

“Say your prayers, worm.” Crocodile drawls out with a slow, wicked smirk, taking a long drag from his cigar before slowly letting the smoke billow out. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, your body burning to the point where you'd felt lit aflame. You felt like prey under Crocodile's dark gaze, and strangely enough, it excited you.

Jay croaked out a pleading “p-please woman, d-don't do this…” with a reaching hand, the limb shaking and mutedly dripping his life essence. You felt no pity for him, no empathy, no remorse for being the one to end his existence. You absent-mindedly rubbed at your bruising wrist, where Jay had gripped you tight enough that his disgrace showed itself, knowing deep down that he deserved to perish.

“Pl-please-”

“Still think I'm a lucky charm?” You taunt lightly, raising an eyebrow with a slightly empty smile coming over your lips. “Care to wager that?”

There's nothing but choked sobbing and hyperventilating from the broken man on the floor, his begging turned into weeping slurring that turns into a shriek as you finally reach to the side and hit the button. The floor under Jay opens up like a gaping maw, swallowing him whole and you watch from your peripheral as it spits him into the aquarium.

You turn to watch properly as the water immediately starts tinting pink from the non-stop bleeding. After a few moments, the Bananawani slowly slinks up behind the panicking man and chomps down on him, splitting his body in half as the massive head gives one, quick and vicious rip to the side, sending the legs into the clear glass display. Your eyes widen at the horrific view, your stomach churning as the legs get munched on a couple seconds later.

There, then gone.

“Well done, sweetheart.” Crocodile's sultry voice suddenly came from behind you, causing you to jump and bump your back into his broad chest and stomach. A large plume of smoke floated beside your face and enveloped you in the dense, oaky scent. You didn't notice how Crocodile sent out Mr. 1 and the two men in black, leaving you both in his office, alone and unsuspecting.

A warm hand covers your stomach and pulls your back directly into his chest, moving up and slowly covering over your breast until it rests heavily over your throat, causing your head to tilt back. You stare up at Crocodile with a slightly confused though expectant look, hoping he would say or do something to show that he wanted from you as much as you wanted from him.

You got your answer almost immediately, Crocodile's face coming closer to your own until his mouth covered over yours, claiming your lips with a near demanding kiss as his hook takes the place his hand holds around your throat. His hand begins to roam your chest again, giving a tit a rough squeeze that pulls a needy sound from your chest. You could almost feel the pride oozing off Crocodile at that.

When he finally pulls away, you try to catch your breath with soft, unsteady gasps. His hook digs in a little harder, piercing your skin and causing you to wince slightly which gives Crocodile a chuckle. “What a fragile pet you are. Must I be cautious with handling you, Y/N?”

You give a weak chuckle of your own as you confess with an airy tone, "I'm not made of glass, Sir.”

That same wicked grin returns and you idly wonder what you've just set yourself up for. Then, before you could even think your next though, you end up face down on his desk, papers flying as Crocodile lifts your skirt and rips at your panty hose and undies.

Crocodile hums deeply at seeing your already slick core, his ringed fingers gliding over your entrance and clit with expert movements, declaring with a firm tone and a heavy sigh, “How stupid to think he deserved this lucky charm.”