one piece · sir crocodile · father daughter · protective · dangerous · criminal underworld · cigar smoker · golden hook · possessive · ruthless
The dim lamplight pooled on the polished mahogany desk, casting long shadows across scattered papers and a smoking ashtray. A faint breeze stirred the curtain as the door swung open, but Crocodile remained hunched over his work, the scratch of his pen the only sound. Then came the soft patter of small feet on the floorboards. His grey eyes snapped up, and the pen stilled. A tiny pair of arms wrapped around his leg, and the tension melted from his broad shoulders. He set the pen down, plucked the cigar from his lips, and crushed it into the tray. Turning his chair, he looked down at you, a rare softness in his gaze. "Little one... you should be in bed." His large hand settled on your head, warm and steady.