! WARNING !
This fanfic is a purely indulgent mess that glorifies cheating and unhealthy relationships. Reader discretion is advised. Things like NTR, feminization, and other potentially off-putting kinks/fetishes will be featured in this story. Consider yourself warned, and enjoy...
"You can be honest with me, Bison. Is that your girlfriend over there?"
It wasn't at all a question that Bison was expecting to hear from his father. He looked up almost immediately, blushing faintly and looking more than a little surprised. Eurill, meanwhile, stood with his arms crossed, smiling devilishly. "What?"
"You heard me," Bison's father repeated, cocking his head towards the second-floor window. Bison took a glance outside, and there she was.
Croissant, the Forte from Minos, and one of the staple members of Penguin Logistics, effortlessly hefts two large boxes from the moving van parked along the street. With a smile, she hauls the giant containers over to the front door of Bison's new base of operations (in Lungmen, anyway), and a sigh passes through her lips as she carefully lowers the boxes by the entryway. It's not a sigh of fatigue, but one of relief. They were almost done for the day, and no doubt the father-son duo of MountainDash Logistics appreciated the young woman's help.
Bison gulped as he watched Croissant wipe the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, before grabbing her water bottle from its holster at her hip. He watches her take long, languid gulps. The bulging in her throat; more sweat running down her forehead and cheeks, down her arms and legs. She wore a white crop top with the Penguin Logistics emblem stamped on the front, and jean shorts that looked honestly like they had once been full-on jeans before she took a pair of scissors to them.
She dressed lightly for the job. For most jobs, actually. Although in truth, she was doing young Bison absolutely no favors by flaunting her bare arms, legs, and midriff. Alas, the young master of MountainDash Logistics could not call his dear friend Croissant his girlfriend. There wasn't anyone he could call his girlfriend, and there never was, and his father knew it well.
Bison sighed, then whispered so that only his father could hear him. "No," he told Eurill, "she's not my girlfriend, dad. She's just a friend."
"Oh? That's a shame," Eurill said, smiling as he watched Croissant beside his son. "I think the two of you would make a cute couple."
"Really?" Bison pouted. "I don't have time for girls, dad. You know that. It's… MDL, you know? I have to be on top of my game," he reasoned. To Bison's surprise, Eurill shook his head.
"You have to be on top of your game? The game of love is just as important, Bison," his father said, smiling wryly. "I'm not telling you to go out and get some girl pregnant, I just think a woman might be just what you need."
"Just what I need?" Bison did a double-take. "What do you mean?" But Eurill's eyes never left Croissant's body.
"She really is a woman, isn't she, son? That Croissant girl," he remarked.
"Uhhh…?" Bison blinked, suddenly wondering what reality he was in. "What do you mean, dad?"
"You know what I mean, son…" Eurill shook his head in utter disbelief of his son. "Sooner or later… you're going to have to settle down. And you'd better have a good woman with you when you do. Someone nice, someone strong… someone caring, diligent… and maybe a little frugal," he said with a laugh.
"I'm only in my twenties," Bison mumbled.
"I started younger." Bison's father looked at him suddenly, causing his son to flinch. Why did he flinch? He'd known his father all his life, of course. He was a fair man in all respects, but he was bloodthirsty when it came to business, as all commanders of logistics were likely to be.
"Dad, I…" Bison's blush deepened. "I don't want to have this conversation right now, OK? I just want to focus on work right now. On moving in. Isn't that why we're here right now? Setting up an office just for me, here in Lungmen… this was your idea, wasn't it?"
"Don't be so modest, Bison. This was our idea," Eurill reminded, wagging his forefinger. "You can't build a castle…"
"...with a weak foundation," Bison mumbled, sighing with exasperation, "I know."
"And every king needs his queen," Eurill remarked, smirking. "This Croissant girl… I think she's a good woman. I think you'd better pounce on her before someone else does, my boy. Eventually you'll wake up and find out… that it's too late. That's she's being pounced on by someone else."
"She's not the only girl in Lungmen," Bison said, shaking his head.
"That's true. Any other girls you like then? Those gals from Penguin Logistics… you like all of them?" He assumed as much.
"As friends!" Bison retorted. His mouth hung open weakly, and he suddenly felt put on the spot now more than before. "Dad, where's this coming from?"
"You've never had a girlfriend, Bison. Not one."
"So what?"
"So… I just think you'd, you know…" Eurill chuckled. "Ah, you know what, never mind…"
"Dad…" Bison frowned. He did that thing he did when he felt he'd let his father down: he grabbed his own Forte horns and started rubbing them to soothe himself. It was a bad habit that he never quite unlearned from his youth, and his father always teased him for it. Surprisingly, however, that's not what Eurill did this time.
And maybe it was because he was staring at Croissant, again. Bison didn't know it then, but Eurill had spent the bulk of his time here staring at the younger woman, with the way she helped the two of them with moving his son into this part of Lungmen. Hefting the final box out of the moving van by herself, Croissant placed it carefully onto the sidewalk and turned her head to look up at both Eurill and Bison, and she flashed them a bright-eyed smile, waving.
Bison waved back, nervously.
"I don't know if I have a shot with her anyway," Bison whispered to his father.
"You never know until you try, Bison. The worst she can say is no. And then, like you said… There are more girls in Lungmen. Or Rim Billiton, or even on that Rhodes Island landship," he mused. Suddenly, Bison's father turned to him and slammed his giant palm against his son's back, causing Bison to bolt upright with shock. "Ha! Or maybe you don't want a girlfriend… maybe you want a boyfriend, instead?"
The question sent a chill up Bison's spine. His eyes went wide. "N-no," Bison stammered, shaking his head quickly. "No, dad. Don't even say that."
"What's the matter? There's nothing wrong with…" Eurill trailed off. He could see that he was making his own son uncomfortable, and so he backed off. "Ahem… I'll, uh, give you a bit of space. Let me go see how the moving guys are getting on…"
"Mm-hmm." Bison's expression shifted from discomfort to neutrality. He didn't look at his father as he lingered there by the doorway, he didn't watch his father leave and descend the staircase. He just looked out the window, and he sighed deeply. A pang of guilt from how he responded, as well as general anxiety, crept up on him. Getting fat on his weakness.
"Ugh… fucking…" Bison muttered to himself, rubbing his own horns again. "Annoying…"
Not one day back in Lungmen and Bison was already regretting the entire arrangement. Following Sauin, he had been sent away to learn more of the business, as well as avoid the mafia that patrolled the streets for weeks following that fateful night. He thought of Mostima, suddenly, and wondered what she was doing. He thought of Exusiai, too, and Texas, and Sora, and… Croissant…
Croissant…
He didn't know how he felt about that woman. She was strong, and she was brave, like the other members of Penguin Logistics. But… she was different, Bison thought. She was kind hearted, and considerate, and she was diligent and frugal and honest. She was cute… and almost maternal in the way she spoke to Bison. Maternal…?
He shook the thoughts from his head. He didn't know why that word in particular — maternal — is the one that bubbled up to the surface of his mind. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about Croissant, or anyone else from Penguin Logistics. He didn't want to think about his father, either, for all the subtle taunting and guidance he could provide. He knew that things needed to change — that his father was, unfortunately, always right — and he hoped that a new start in Lungmen, a PROPER start with connections and networking, would be just what he needed to get a foothold over the city, as the heir to MountainDash Logistics.
Bison only wanted to work. He didn't want to think about the things that were bothering him. Not at all. He did, however, suddenly, wonder what his own mother was up to.
"Thanks again for all your help," Bison said, smiling shyly at Croissant. The fiery-haired Forte was fired up — after a day spent hauling and organizing things for MountainDash Logistics, she didn't even seem the least bit tired. In fact, she seemed downright energized.
"Shoot, you know I don't mind the least bit helpin' you and yer old man!" Croissant gave Bison a thumbs-up, and a wide smile. "'Specially on account of you two payin' me and all that! 'Sides… this makes fer some good exercise, since the others are busy with Rhodes Island this-and-that."
"Is that why you wouldn't even let us help you?" Bison asked, smiling a little wider, "because you saw all this as just… exercise?"
Croissant smiled secretively, and she shrugged. "That, an' maybe I wanted to show off a lil' bit."
"Show off?" Bison almost asked for who? but he held back.
"Mm-hmm! I do like showin' off sometimes. Guess you could say it's one of my bad habits. Also, for Penguin Logistics, I'm almost always heftin' 'round my Ol' Reliable combo, the sledge and shield, you know? So… it ain't no problem." She tipped the rim of her visor downward, smirking.
She's really something… Bison thought. I can see why my dad wants me to get with her…
"Anyways…" Croissant continued. "Nightfall now. You gonna be awright?"
"Mm." Bison looked up to the sky. Not a star to be seen, on account of all of the city lights surrounding him. Light pollution, he believed it was called. But it was getting late. "We did good work today, I think. I really can't thank you enough, Croissant… what you did for us."
"Shoot, I'm movin' stuff 'round all the time! Seriously kiddo, ain't nothin'!"
"Kiddo?" Bison frowned, and Croissant suddenly put her hands up shortly.
"Whoops! Ha ha, sorry there. Didn't mean it like that. I know you ain't that much younger than me, I just… I dunno, you have… kiddo energy? If that makes sense," Croissant said.
"Kiddo energy? What does that mean?" Bison asked. Suddenly, however, he felt as though asking was a big mistake. That the clarification would wound him.
"Uhh…" Croissant smiled bashfully. "You're just, uhh… ahem." She cleared her throat, and with an embarrassed and sympathetic smile, Bison's friend chose to sidestep the issue. "You know what? I think I left my phone upstairs. Wanna help me find it?"
"Uhh… you go ahead," Bison told Croissant, holding up his own phone. "I have to call a friend and could use the privacy… if you don't mind?" He frowned. "I'm sorry. That sounds rude. I should— I can call them later, and…?"
"Naw, it's awright!" Croissant gave Bison another thumbs-up. "Bison the Business Man, always on a call, always lookin' so serious… you do yer thing, and I'll do mine. Call ya if I need ya, yeah?"
"Sure," Bison mumbled. He watched as Croissant turned around and headed inside. Watched her tail sway as she went, only to realize that he had been staring at her midriff the entire time that they were just talking. And now he was staring at her ass.
Bison slapped his own forehead once he was sure that Croissant wouldn't hear it. "Ugh… good going, Bison… totally didn't come off as a creep just now. No, definitely not…"
Croissant took a deep breath and let it pass through her lips, smiling at the specific smell of a brand new office. Of loose leaf paper, and cardboard boxes, and freshly-mopped floors. It smelled just like the office spaces of Rhodes Island, whenever she had to do her messengerial duties on the landship. The trading post, which she knew keenly of on account of Texas's horror stories. But Croissant didn't have a Lappland and an Exusiai to worry about when she was assigned there. She simply worked and worked, never stopping unless told to do so, much to Amiya's chagrin.
"Always so worried, huh…" Croissant mumbled, looking around the second-floor rooms for her cell phone.
"Who is? My son?"
Croissant turned around. There stood Eurill, hands on his hips, looking down at Croissant with that same old charming smile plastered on his face. It was a smile that Croissant matched as she shook her head.
"Naw, my bad. Was just talkin' to myself. Though I guess yer son's always worryin', too. He's a good kid… with a good head on his shoulders," Croissant praised. Eurill hummed.
"Maybe too good," he remarked, sighing softly. His face fell slightly, and Croissant couldn't help but find it concerning.
"Oh? Whaddaya mean by that? You awright?" She asked.
"Me? Oh, I'm just fine, thank you. It's my son that worries me," Eurill admitted.
"He's got big shoes to fill," said Croissant, looking Eurill from bottom to top. As her gaze traveled upward, she once again internally remarked at just how simultaneously handsome and imposing Eurill was. The founder and owner of MountainDash Logistics was standing right in front of her, and she knew damn well that she was in the presence of what might as well be royalty, on account of the man's nigh-monopoly of the logistics business — from here, to Rim Billiton, and beyond. To Laterano, to even Minos back home.
Her eyes lingered on the man's crotch for perhaps a little bit too long… and then her gaze swirled up even higher, to his wide chest and bulky biceps. His large hands, his broad shoulders… and his deceptive smile, in-between a pair of huge Forte horns, much bigger than her own croissant-shaped, curvier ones.
He's all man… Croissant considered. She was humbled from his mere presence, monumental as it was. As striking and stately as Croissant herself was… there was just no comparing herself to him. She felt smaller because of him — and frankly, she loved it.
"Yeah," Eurill said, nodding simply, "he does. I'm elated that he's got a reliable network behind him, already. The likes of you… and the others."
"Aw, shucks. I'm always happy to help you two," Croissant told him, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'll help you and Bison for as long as you'll have me!"
"You promise?" Eurill asked. Croissant gave the older man a funny look, a little surprised by the question.
"I'll do anything I can to help," she reiterated, "'specially if it pays, heh. Ain't nothin' in this world for free… though I'm sure you know that, Mister Pides."
"Oh, please… call me Eurill, sweetheart," he told her.
"Eurill then! And you can call me Croissant… same as always. S'what everyone calls me, anyways. Unless you had a nickname in mind for me, or somethin'?"
Eurill hummed. "I prefer sweetheart… unless that's been taken by someone else. Does someone already call you sweetheart?"
Croissant narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched him, but her smile didn't change. She was oh-so curious to see where this would go. "'Fraid not. 'Specially not men twice my age," she told him.
"That's a shame," Eurill told her.
"Is it? Just means someone ain't callin' me sweetheart yet."
Eurill crossed his arms as he watched her. "Does that mean I can call you sweetheart? You'd like that?"
"Haww… a man like you, callin' a gal like me, sweetheart?" She grinned at the thought, and her tail started to sway behind her. She felt devilish, suddenly.
"What's wrong with that?" Eurill asked.
"I ain't nothin' special, Eurill. Just a hard-workin', bag-chasin' gal. I'm a dime a dozen here in Lungmen," said Croissant.
"On the contrary, sweetheart… I think you're very special, in fact," he told her.
"Izzat why you were eyefuckin' me all day today?" She asked, brazenly. And she got him good with that one — she could see his eyes go wide, and his jaw tighten.
"Excuse me?" Eurill scoffed, clearly amused by the situation they had found themselves in. But Croissant didn't stop there.
"Really though, Mr. Pides… a gal like me can feel when a guy like you's got his eyes all over her. Just sayin'."
"Really now…" Eurill's stance shifted slightly, from foot to foot. He wasn't uncomfortable. Far from it. He's done this song and dance before, but never with a woman so much younger than he was.
"Really," Croissant repeated. "Unfortunately for us both, I'm an opportunistic gal, Mister Pides. Opp-or-tuuuuu-nistic," she emphasized.
"That's unfortunate?" He asked. And Croissant smiled, leaning against the wall beside her.
"Oh, Mr. Pides… you're bad news," Croissant said, giggling. She relished the attention from someone like him.
"I'm utterly helpless," he confessed, holding his hands behind his back.
"Are ya? I dunno about that… I mean," Croissant stepped around the man, her confidence never wavering. "A guy like you, an' a gal like me… up here, by our lonesome selves. Anything can happen… an' so, is that helpless? Sounds to me like we could help ourselves… if we wanted to."
Croissant turned to face Eurill, and she walked right up to him. As expected, the hulking Forte — this titan of a man — backed away from her until he was pressed up against a wall. And then she came even closer, so that she could put her hands on his chest.
Eurill gulped. He didn't seem afraid, but he was definitely on his guard. "You're… quite the spunky one, aren't you?"
"Aw, I hope so." Croissant bit her lip.
"I pride myself," Eurill said, "on being able to predict most things. Although I have to say… this is certainly quite the development we're finding ourselves in. And now, Croissant, I have to ask… since you're clearly interested, and I'm clearly interested… what's stopping us from taking things further?"
Croissant said nothing at first. She simply reached down and took Eurill's massive hand in her own. Another reminder of their tantalizing size difference. She felt the weight of his palm in both her own, and she couldn't help herself. Every step they'd taken to get to this point had been a moment of weakness. Moment upon moment of weakness, which made them two very weak individuals. Weaklings from Minos, a hometown that cherished strength alongside other virtues.
And thus weakly, Croissant took Eurill's hand and placed it against her own cheek. She nuzzled his palm, taking in the all-important aroma of his cologne. Like she was anointing herself, despite every thought at the forefront of her mind being thoughts of utter depravity. Sin, disgusting sin. Then, with a wry smile…
…Croissant pressed her lips against Eurill's wedding ring, giving it a gentle kiss.
"This," she answered him, finally. "Yer limiter."
Eurill tensed. She could see the lump in his throat. Could hear the gears turning in his head. For the first time since she'd met him… Eurill trembled, slightly — though with fear, or with arousal, Croissant couldn't presently tell. Most likely both… and she knew she had won whatever sick game it was they were playing right now.
"I'll let you have it," Eurill whispered, smiling.
"I'll just pawn it anyway," Croissant replied.
"It's just a thing."
"An' I'm just a gal who's way too horny to be doing this, Eurill. Come on, cowboy… don't make me do something that you're gonna regret." She paused. "What if Bison sees us? What would yer son think of you… messin' 'round with a gal his age?"
"Is that your biggest concern right now?" Eurill wondered aloud.
"Haww… the biggest concern I've got," Croissant said, "is the one pressin' right up against me right now."
"...fuck." Eurill tried to steady his breathing.
"Yer a bad, bad man, Mr. Pides… so bad," Croissant taunted, her eyes closing halfway as she kept herself close to him. She didn't allow him to escape. Not yet. "Gimme yer phone."
Eurill was hesitant. "What are you planning on doing?"
"Callin' mine. I lost it. S'why I came up here."
"Ahh…" Eurill fished his phone out of his own pocket and handed it to Croissant, who took a step back and dialed her own phone number. In the silence that followed this moment, both she and Eurill were suddenly listening to faint guitar music that came from the kitchen.
"Ah, knew it had to be somewhere up here!" Croissant handed the phone back to Eurill. And just like that, the young woman turned around and went off to the kitchen, confident in the knowledge that Eurill was staring at her as she walked out of the room. When she returned, the hulking Forte had composed himself, if only a little bit. He cleared his throat.
"Croissant," he said carefully, "do you need a ride home?"
"Such a gentleman! As a matter of fact, I do," said Croissant, "I would really appreciate that, Eurill." She smiled gently up at him, while he called his limo driver over the phone. "I'mma check up on yer son… and wait outside for that ride. Come out when yer finished… settlin' down," she said, her eyes once again traveling to the giant bulge that was so clearly visible on Eurill's sizable crotch.
"Croissant," Eurill covered his phone speaker with his hand, giving the younger woman a dead-serious look. "Don't… don't tell Bison… what just happened here," he told her. His expression was different, this time, Croissant noted. He was concerned. So was she, quite frankly. These were unfamiliar waters she was treading in. Was she going to drown in the lust and attention that a man twice her age was willing to shower her in?
Unfortunately for everyone involved, that seemed to be the case. She didn't know what exactly had possessed her to blow Eurill a kiss before she went down the stairs, but that's exactly what Croissant did, and before she even got back to the first floor of the new office building, both she and Eurill knew that they were well and truly fucked.
