Meeting the mate

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Minotaur [Ambrose] (POV) x fem!reader || sfw but nsfw thoughts

His coworker informed him of an appointment for a tongue piercing he had on the evening. He wasn’t too fond of meeting with people, but his job asked for it and he did like his job. He would rather talk it out with the client that have somebody getting a piercing without knowing what that would mean as far as taking care of it and heal-time.

So he was already preparing himself for what he was sure going to be a very tedious task of explaining a human how piercings worked, and how to properly take care of it. Joke was on him, because the appointment went nothing like that.

He was chatting with his coworker when the door opened behind him, he put on his most fake-friendly smile and turned around. And then he had to stop for a second to avoid swallowing his own tongue. You walked through the door and all the thoughts in his head disappeared. Right there, in front of him, was the closest he’d get to experience how the gates of heaven would look like.

You. You were the closest to looking straight to the sun. You were like a ray of sunshine in a dark room, illuminating everything until the colors changed and the world seemed a little less grim.

He had to swallow again, this time around the knot in his throat as you approached him with a smile. “I guess you are my minotaur for the evening.” You said it so casually he had trouble understanding your words, the sound of your voice short-circuiting every single neuron in his brain. He nodded, or at least he thought he did.

He extended his hand and you took it, so very tiny in comparison to him. His dick was twitching in his pants just with a tiny touch. He knew he had a size kink, but the force which his body reacted to yours was unmatched. He never felt like that.

You introduced yourself, but his brain was spinning at such speed he wasn’t sure he could repeat any of what you said. He guided you to the booth, focusing all his energy on making his dick go down so he wouldn’t embarrass himself, or worse, made you uncomfortable.

He was sitting on a stool and you were sitting in front of him, talking animatedly about what made you want to get your tongue pierced. You mentioned something about oral pleasure, and his eyesight went white for a second. He had to readjust his position so his dick wouldn’t be noticeable. You seemed like you didn’t realize your effect on him, so he wasn’t going to mention it. Fuck, he was so doomed.

He reconnected with your words as you said: “Everyone jokes I’m like a vampire, but it’s not my fault that I have a thing for biting and allergy to the sun.” Good goddess, you had a thing for biting? He was about to burst thought his pants if he didn’t do something about it.

So he changed topics. “Okay, let’s get to it. One last time, are you sure about this? Is going to be painful.” He went through the process in his brain, focusing on what he knew to try remain cool. He was struggling really hard to be professional.

You giggled, actually giggled, and he almost came right there. “Jokes on you, I like a little bit of pain,” you answered. He had to take a deep breath to avoid groaning. Yep, he was definitely coming if you didn’t stop talking ASAP.

“Okay, let’s see what we are working with. Stick out your tongue,” he instructed. He got up to get close and the height difference became almost too much for his size kink. Fuck, he needed to get through the appointment fast, before he embarrassed both of you coming in his pants.

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, looking up at him as he inspected your tongue. But truth be told, he was thinking about everything but the piercing. Because you were there, looking at him from under your lashes, tongue out and eyes pleading… and he could only imagine that was the closest he was going to get to see you on your knees for him. To see you looking up as he fucked your throat. Fuck, his dick was aching so bad… And every time he glanced down he could see your cleavage tempting him, your round boobs almost spilling out of your thin strap black shirt. He was so going to hell for lusting after a client. For lusting after you when you were clearly just friendly.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructed, applying it to himself, too. He was having trouble focusing, but the second he inhaled through his nose, he got the delectable scent of your arousal and he almost missed the needle going through your tongue. Fuck, he was being reckless. You did as told, and without even realizing, he lets out a soft: “Good girl.”

His mind malfunctioned at the same second you let out the tiniest of whimpers. He cursed himself for being so unprofessional, but good goddess if that tiny sound didn’t make him have a mini orgasm. He should apologize, he knew he should, but he said nothing. He turned around as he started to recite from memory all the steps you needed to take care of the piercing.

When he recovered some of his cool, he turned around again to find you looking intensely at his back, now his front. You blinked slowly at him and he had to hide behind the cart with his equipment to avoid you seeing the huge imprint of his dick against his pants. Fuck, he never have guessed he had a thing for humans, but good damn it if he didn’t want to press you against the wall and fuck you right there. He could almost taste your arousal in the air, but he had to be professional. He should know better.

He took a deep breath and signaled to the door. “Okay, see you in a couple of weeks to size-down that one, okay? Make sure to make the appointment before leaving.”

“Tha- thank you,” you stuttered, sounding so adorable he had a hard time processing your words.

“Anytime,” he whispered. And he meant it. Good goddess did he mean it. “You can pay at the front.”

“Sure thing… See you in a couple weeks,” you let out in a soft voice, waving at him with your tiny hands that would look amazing wrapped around his dick. He was so going to hell.

He had to grab onto the cart not to go after you and ask you on a date. But that didn’t stop him to look at your ass as you walked out. Fuck, he was going to have wet dreams with that mini skirt, wasn’t he? He did not (but definitely did) jerk off in the bathroom after he made sure you left.

It took you two weeks to get back to him for your size-down piercing appointment. Two weeks of insufferable longing and jerking off furiously to the thought of you, to the look you gave him before leaving, to the way you smelled. He might have taken the gloves he used to touch you back home. But he would never accept that. Who cared anyway? The smell was fading, and he was starting to look like a lovesick fool. But who could blame him? It was the only way of smelling you again.

He was on his break when he got the first text message from you. He had no idea how you got that number, but he suspected his stupid naga coworker (soon-to-not-be-friends) gave it to you. He had a special number for appointments, but she decided it was better to give you his personal info. He should be mad, he knew he should, but the fact that you sent him a text, that you had his number… Fuck, it was messing with his head.

Your message was short, just a simple “hey, where could I go in to get the piercing?”

He overthought what to answer for a lot longer that he’d admit. But after a while, he knew he couldn’t leave you on read, so he just answered an equally professional “can you come over this evening?”. He realized a beat too late that it sounded a bit like he wanted to hook up with you (which he wanted, but that wasn’t the point), so he sent a second message to clarify: “to the tattoo parlor, that’s it”.

He was two seconds away from hitting his head to the table in embarrassment when you sent him a cute emoji with a thumbs up. Was the emoji cute? Not really. But being you who sent it? Incredibly cute.

He walked back into the parlor with a new energy on his steps. “Dude, since when we give clients personal info?” He asked the naga behind the counter, trying not to sound too accusing because he was actually glad she did. But he wanted to know why she did it, it wasn’t normal for her to do such a careless thing.

“Since she’s your mate,” she countered without looking up from her phone, completely nonchalant and making his whole world crumble with a single word.

Wait, mate? WHAT?

And then everything clicked into place. The way you smelled, the way he reacted to you and your smell. The way he was going insane after only two weeks of not seeing you. Fuck. He was so stupid he found his mate and wasn’t even able to recognize it.

And now… now he didn’t know what to do.

He couldn’t tell you, humans didn’t have mates. He wasn’t even sure you liked him back.

You smelled like arousal, yeah, but you came in smelling like that. He hadn’t been around enough humans to know if that was normal. Maybe all humans were horny all the time. How would he know? And sure, you flirted a bit with him, but you also flirted with his coworker as you made the appointment… Fuck, everything was so messy.

He only had one thing clear: he couldn’t stay away from you. So maybe… friends?

Yeah, that would do.

(He definitely knew that friends wasn’t going to cut it, but there’s nothing as blind as someone in love.)