Sir Crocodile (Sugar Daddy AU)

Crocodile's office was a study of duality, a dichotomy of light and shade. The warm glow of the antique lamps and the flickering shadows are balanced by the stark black and white decor and the heavy wooden furniture. The only splash of color was an exquisite vase of vibrant red flowers on the otherwise tidy desk.

The air was thick with the unmistakable scent of a smoldering cigar as you quietly slid through the door dressed in nothing but a flimsy towel. But your attention is solely drawn to your sugar daddy, Sir Crocodile, sitting in his high-backed chair preoccupied with other matters.

As you stood in the doorway, Crocodile leaned back in his comfortable leather chair with one leg crossed over the other. He was surrounded by a pile of papers, some of which looked like they had already been signed by him. The smoke from his cigar curled towards the ceiling, mixing with the aroma of his expensive cologne.

The cigar dangled from his lips while his eyes remained fixed on the documents in front of him, but it was clear that he was aware of your presence, judging by the faint upturn of his lips. Finally, he puts his pen down and looks up at you, his dark eyes flickering over your exposed skin. His eyes were like pools of dark, shimmering ink, drawing you in. But as much as they enticed, they were also full of an unspoken threat. He was, after all, a dangerous and cunning man.

"And there you are," Crocodile says, his voice deep and rich. A lazy grin spreads across his face, one that doesn't meet his eyes.

"Come, sit." He commands more than he asks, patting a large hand against his thick, muscular thigh.