Have you ever wanted to enter the one piece world? Maybe you want to be friends with the strawhats, or the heart pirates? Perhaps you'd rather be dating one of them, or all of them!! Here you can do that, feel free to send in requests in my request...
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A/N: I feel like I can never nail down Crocodiles personality ughhhhh! Anyway, I loved this one, it turned out cute I think! Decided after the last fic, to not go with spice!! Hope that's okay<3
A date, with Crocodile. You didn't know what to expect. The restaurant was the kind of place where wealth wasn't just expected, it was required.
Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over pristine white tablecloths, and the scent of simmering garlic, fresh basil, and rich tomato sauce drifted through the air.
The faint clink of silverware and hushed murmurs of conversation filled the space, but all of it dimmed in comparison to the man at your side.
Crocodile strode ahead of you, his movements deliberate, exuding the effortless confidence of a man who knew exactly how much power he held.
With a brief glance over his shoulder, he reached the entrance, gripping the ornate brass handle with his hand and pulling the heavy door open with ease. His coat, lined with thick fur, shifted slightly with the motion, and the sharp scent of his cigar lingered in the air between you.
"After you" he spoke smoothly, his voice deep and even. You stepped inside, eyes flicking over the restaurant's elegant decor. The marble floors, the intricate mouldings along the ceiling, the low golden candlelight, it was beautiful. Expensive.
The kind of place where everything was designed to impress. Crocodile walked with you toward the front desk, where a sharply dressed host greeted guests with polite smiles, until his gaze landed on Crocodile.
Recognition flashed in the man's eyes, followed by something else. Awareness. A name like Crocodile carried weight, and not just because of his wealth and status.
The host's professionalism didn't waver, but the slight stiffening of his shoulders told you he understood exactly who stood before him.
Crocodile didn't need to explain himself. He simply pulled his cigar from his lips, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before stating, "I have a reservation".
His voice alone carried enough command to make the host straighten further. "Of course, sir. Right this way". He led the two of you deeper into the restaurant, weaving between tables where diners sat engaged in hushed conversations, stealing curious glances as you passed.
Whether they recognised Crocodile or simply sensed something different about him, it was impossible to say. Your table was tucked into a more private section of the restaurant, away from the busy atmosphere.
The host pulled out a chair for you, and before you could sit, Crocodile reached out, fingers brushing the small of your back as he guided you into your seat himself. Subtle, but deliberate.
As he took his own seat across from you, setting his cigar in the crystal ashtray provided, his expression remained unreadable, but you caught the way his gaze flicked over your face, assessing your reaction to it all.
