[ Of course Aranea respects repayment; she isn't running a charity over here. Not only has she saved him from the (very comfortable, all things considered) clutches of the Regalia, but she's also provided him with a screaming orgasm, all while decidedly not making good on the fact that she'd announced that his balls would be collateral if he defaulted on his payment. The Commodore isn't exactly known for her generosity of spirit when it comes to financial matters, so the fact that Prompto's gotten this far is testament to how much she must actually like him.
Aranea had never pegged herself for an exhibitionist, but every encounter with Prompto is making her rethink her stance on the matter. The thought of someone seeing her utterly dominate him strikes a very erotic chord inside of her, one she'd had no idea existed until now. The mere thought only serves to make heat coil and spike inside of her gut, and just as she opens her mouth to negotiate her end of the deal, he starts pulling on his pants.
Aranea shuts her jaw, tilting her head even as he tries to make her look semi-presentable for gods know whatever reason. ]
What the hell are you talking about? [ She asks, quirking a brow. If he had made any moves to dig out, Aranea's hands would have found her lance in a second, likely to shove its head where her fingers had been not moments before. Instead, she allows Prompto to do whatever it is he's doing (because that's worked out so well for her thus far), sitting still even as he swipes at her spit-slick mouth. ]
The fuck are yo-- [ Aranea is effectively silenced by the finger he has at her mouth, and she can't lie: her first instinct is to circle her lips around it, though she doesn't heed it by some miracle of the Six. As the boy clambers over her to leap out of the car, Aranea pokes her head out of the semi-ruined vehicle, eyeing him with a look that borders on murderous. ]
Are you fucking with me right now? [ She is, indeed, a dripping, molten mess beneath the tight fabric of her pants, and she collects her gauntlets and helm before extricating herself from the Regalia's back seat. Her face is flushed as she staggers after him, her expression caught somewhere between anger and extreme sexual frustration... though, really, when it comes to Aranea, there's really no difference between the two, as the latter usually begets the former. ]
Are you seriously suggesting that I take you out to dinner? After that? [ Her hand twitches, eager to reach for the spear strapped to her back. Her mind already whirs with revenge scenarios even has they reach the pier leading to the resort, her anger practically radiating off of her in waves. Her boots clunk heavily upon the boards as she follows after him, and for all of her angry gesturing and ranting, she keeps pace remarkably well.
Before she knows it, they're seated in a secluded, romantic portion of the dining area, the only lighting provided by the candle at the center at their table. She glowers at Prompto from over the glass of wine that their server had so graciously provided her with, taking a long swig before pouring herself another glass. She fills the damn thing to the brim before repeating the action, never once tearing her eyes away from him as she glares hard enough to bore holes into his skull. ]
[ surely Prompto would maybe feel a little badly about leaving Aranea hanging like that. she will likely have as much trouble walking as him at this point! but when his mind gets set on something, it becomes difficult to deflect him elsewhere. she's likely learned that by now. the idea of actually having a "date" with the Commodore excited him to no degree, and even if she's hardly compliant every step of the way, she has to realize she's being dragged along if she wants anything pleasuring out of this. ]
Mmmm, yup. You kinda broke a lot of glass in the Regalia. Guess who the guys will blame for that? Me. Guess who will have to pay that back too? Me. You just don't want to find out you like spending time with me when it doesn't involve my cock.
Prompto fears for his life on the long trek to the resort, and he equally fears he will inconveniently run into the rest of the gang and have to explain everything that has occurred lest they kill him instead. he only begins to rest easy when they're sitting down in a private corner of the restaurant and alcohol is presented as a peace offering of sorts. considering the look she is still given him, he imagines it will take some time. ]
I... I mentioned I loved you, right? Loooove... you...
[ she's chugging down that wine of hers like it's water and he hesitantly sips at a glass of his own all the while. his foot extends from underneath the table in an attempt to affectionately stroke her leg, yet there's nothing but an uncomfortable clang as he hits the armored part covering her knee instead. ]
O-ow...
[ maybe he's regretting this finally. it sounded like a good idea at the time, okay!! ]
[ Aranea feels that Prompto should feel guilty; barring the fact that she had a tendency to launch idle threats in his general direction, she had come to his rescue with little fanfare, fingerfucked him, and sucked him off to orgasm. All without charging him any extra! The Commodore is a modern day saint if there ever was one, and this guy repays her by having her take him out on a date.
Aranea isn't sure what's stupider: the fact that he's doing this or the fact that she's actually going along with it. ]
Don't put this on me! If I hadn't shown up, you'd have found your own way out. I just expedited the process. [ Aranea scoffs at what he says next, indignant. ] As if I'd ever want to be around you when your cock isn't involved!
[ She says that last bit a little too loudly, much to the scandal of the small scattering of tourists seated near the front of the resort. It isn't long until they're seated in the relative darkness of their table, however, keeping them safe from prying eyes. The longer she glowers at him, the more frenzied her mind becomes in desperation for a plan to exact her revenge. Aranea seems content to glare a hole in the place of every single one of his stupid freckles before she's seized by a devil of a thought, her angered expression slowly melting into one of devious smugness.
Aranea is on her third (and a half) glass of wine before she responds to his second confession of the night, delicately lifting one of her legs and nestling her foot between the crux of his thighs. Anyone looking will likely get an eyeful of what has to be some sort of terrifying sexy poolboy/sugar mama exchange, but the Commodore couldn't give less of a flying fuck. ]
Yeah? I think I might love you, too. [ She purrs, a slow scimitar of a smirk crossing her lips. When their server returns, she grabs him by the tie, yanking him down and murmuring something into his ear. He snaps to attention almost immediately, rushing off to the gods know where without so much as taking their order.
Aranea swigs the rest of her glass down, pouring the remainder of the bottle into it and lamenting when it doesn't quite reach the rim of the cup. ]
I ordered for you. Eat fast. We've got somewhere to be.
[ The bottom of her boot gently rubs against the front of his pants as she takes another sip, almost nonchalant in the way she glances around. Her face colors a lovely shade in the half-darkness, her teeth catching the glint of the candlelight as she grins the grin of an apex predator who has their quarry beneath their heel.
It doesn't take long for their server to return, with what looks like the entirety of the Quay's kitchen with him. Aranea smiles toothily at Prompto as her glass is refilled, platters and platters of gourmet dishes being set out on the table between the two of them. Her foot never once leaves its perch. ]
You can't say I never did anything good for you, sweetheart.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, buuuut I think you're wrong. Would have definitely been stuck in there until they decided to bust me out. I'm useless like that. Knowing my luck, they'd have gone on an extended fishing trip...
[ Prompto is left grumbling a few choice words as he traces his finger around the rim of his glass of wine. the similarity to any motions her own fingers had performed on him not too long ago is lost and he's immediately retracting his hand regardless in thanks to her boisterous statement involving his cock. his head ducks low to avoid making eye contact with anyone who happened to overhear. god, thanks for making it into a Thing, Aranea.
the tsundere look is cute on you at least.
as she continues powering through her alcohol, he begins to worry. how is the dragoon when she gets drunk? does she get drunk? will she feel more inclined to beat the holy hell out of him or will she mount him right here at this very table in a spontaneous act of lust? the possibilities are endless, and as she continues to treat the wine as if it's water, he can only imagine he will have his answer soon. Prompto believes he starts to get one when one of those long legs rests dangerous close to the space between his legs. whatever her intention may be, it's clear that he is quick to assume. the lass never did get to enjoy an orgasm of her own... ]
W-what? I'm sorry, can you... would you be so kind as to repeat that? [ she mentions loving him in turn and he just. stares. sort of, anyway. his eyes hold her gaze for a second or two before deflecting towards the nearest object, only to return to them and rinse and repeat. Aranea is fucking with him, there is no doubt about it. when she starts whispering to the server only for him to abscond with a level of urgency he's never seen before, that furthers his concern even more. ] You're planning on something, aren't you. And you won't tell me what that plan is until I see it firsthand. I should be worried, huh...
[ because yeeeep, that is certainly her boot applying enough pressure to his crotch to make him stiffen up in more ways than one. he gags on a bit of spit and hardly acknowledges the amount of food that has been placed before the both of them in an unreasonably short amount of time. Aranea should be proud that her touch already has him squirming about in his seat, one elbow digging firmly into the table while his other hand shakily unfolds the napkin holding his utensils. ]
Not sure if I have, uh, much of an appetite now, h-ho... ney...
[ before she gets an opportunity to use her boot for evil and not good, he'll start poking around at the food that looks the best. or at least, he thinks it looks the best. it's hard to focus when one eye is almost always looking at that devious glint in her own. ]
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no subject
Aranea had never pegged herself for an exhibitionist, but every encounter with Prompto is making her rethink her stance on the matter. The thought of someone seeing her utterly dominate him strikes a very erotic chord inside of her, one she'd had no idea existed until now. The mere thought only serves to make heat coil and spike inside of her gut, and just as she opens her mouth to negotiate her end of the deal, he starts pulling on his pants.
Aranea shuts her jaw, tilting her head even as he tries to make her look semi-presentable for gods know whatever reason. ]
What the hell are you talking about? [ She asks, quirking a brow. If he had made any moves to dig out, Aranea's hands would have found her lance in a second, likely to shove its head where her fingers had been not moments before. Instead, she allows Prompto to do whatever it is he's doing (because that's worked out so well for her thus far), sitting still even as he swipes at her spit-slick mouth. ]
The fuck are yo-- [ Aranea is effectively silenced by the finger he has at her mouth, and she can't lie: her first instinct is to circle her lips around it, though she doesn't heed it by some miracle of the Six. As the boy clambers over her to leap out of the car, Aranea pokes her head out of the semi-ruined vehicle, eyeing him with a look that borders on murderous. ]
Are you fucking with me right now? [ She is, indeed, a dripping, molten mess beneath the tight fabric of her pants, and she collects her gauntlets and helm before extricating herself from the Regalia's back seat. Her face is flushed as she staggers after him, her expression caught somewhere between anger and extreme sexual frustration... though, really, when it comes to Aranea, there's really no difference between the two, as the latter usually begets the former. ]
Are you seriously suggesting that I take you out to dinner? After that? [ Her hand twitches, eager to reach for the spear strapped to her back. Her mind already whirs with revenge scenarios even has they reach the pier leading to the resort, her anger practically radiating off of her in waves. Her boots clunk heavily upon the boards as she follows after him, and for all of her angry gesturing and ranting, she keeps pace remarkably well.
Before she knows it, they're seated in a secluded, romantic portion of the dining area, the only lighting provided by the candle at the center at their table. She glowers at Prompto from over the glass of wine that their server had so graciously provided her with, taking a long swig before pouring herself another glass. She fills the damn thing to the brim before repeating the action, never once tearing her eyes away from him as she glares hard enough to bore holes into his skull. ]
no subject
Mmmm, yup. You kinda broke a lot of glass in the Regalia. Guess who the guys will blame for that? Me. Guess who will have to pay that back too? Me. You just don't want to find out you like spending time with me when it doesn't involve my cock.
[ touché, young man. touché.
Prompto fears for his life on the long trek to the resort, and he equally fears he will inconveniently run into the rest of the gang and have to explain everything that has occurred lest they kill him instead. he only begins to rest easy when they're sitting down in a private corner of the restaurant and alcohol is presented as a peace offering of sorts. considering the look she is still given him, he imagines it will take some time. ]
I... I mentioned I loved you, right? Loooove... you...
[ she's chugging down that wine of hers like it's water and he hesitantly sips at a glass of his own all the while. his foot extends from underneath the table in an attempt to affectionately stroke her leg, yet there's nothing but an uncomfortable clang as he hits the armored part covering her knee instead. ]
O-ow...
[ maybe he's regretting this finally. it sounded like a good idea at the time, okay!! ]
no subject
Aranea isn't sure what's stupider: the fact that he's doing this or the fact that she's actually going along with it. ]
Don't put this on me! If I hadn't shown up, you'd have found your own way out. I just expedited the process. [ Aranea scoffs at what he says next, indignant. ] As if I'd ever want to be around you when your cock isn't involved!
[ She says that last bit a little too loudly, much to the scandal of the small scattering of tourists seated near the front of the resort. It isn't long until they're seated in the relative darkness of their table, however, keeping them safe from prying eyes. The longer she glowers at him, the more frenzied her mind becomes in desperation for a plan to exact her revenge. Aranea seems content to glare a hole in the place of every single one of his stupid freckles before she's seized by a devil of a thought, her angered expression slowly melting into one of devious smugness.
Aranea is on her third (and a half) glass of wine before she responds to his second confession of the night, delicately lifting one of her legs and nestling her foot between the crux of his thighs. Anyone looking will likely get an eyeful of what has to be some sort of terrifying sexy poolboy/sugar mama exchange, but the Commodore couldn't give less of a flying fuck. ]
Yeah? I think I might love you, too. [ She purrs, a slow scimitar of a smirk crossing her lips. When their server returns, she grabs him by the tie, yanking him down and murmuring something into his ear. He snaps to attention almost immediately, rushing off to the gods know where without so much as taking their order.
Aranea swigs the rest of her glass down, pouring the remainder of the bottle into it and lamenting when it doesn't quite reach the rim of the cup. ]
I ordered for you. Eat fast. We've got somewhere to be.
[ The bottom of her boot gently rubs against the front of his pants as she takes another sip, almost nonchalant in the way she glances around. Her face colors a lovely shade in the half-darkness, her teeth catching the glint of the candlelight as she grins the grin of an apex predator who has their quarry beneath their heel.
It doesn't take long for their server to return, with what looks like the entirety of the Quay's kitchen with him. Aranea smiles toothily at Prompto as her glass is refilled, platters and platters of gourmet dishes being set out on the table between the two of them. Her foot never once leaves its perch. ]
You can't say I never did anything good for you, sweetheart.
no subject
[ Prompto is left grumbling a few choice words as he traces his finger around the rim of his glass of wine. the similarity to any motions her own fingers had performed on him not too long ago is lost and he's immediately retracting his hand regardless in thanks to her boisterous statement involving his cock. his head ducks low to avoid making eye contact with anyone who happened to overhear. god, thanks for making it into a Thing, Aranea.
the tsundere look is cute on you at least.
as she continues powering through her alcohol, he begins to worry. how is the dragoon when she gets drunk? does she get drunk? will she feel more inclined to beat the holy hell out of him or will she mount him right here at this very table in a spontaneous act of lust? the possibilities are endless, and as she continues to treat the wine as if it's water, he can only imagine he will have his answer soon. Prompto believes he starts to get one when one of those long legs rests dangerous close to the space between his legs. whatever her intention may be, it's clear that he is quick to assume. the lass never did get to enjoy an orgasm of her own... ]
W-what? I'm sorry, can you... would you be so kind as to repeat that? [ she mentions loving him in turn and he just. stares. sort of, anyway. his eyes hold her gaze for a second or two before deflecting towards the nearest object, only to return to them and rinse and repeat. Aranea is fucking with him, there is no doubt about it. when she starts whispering to the server only for him to abscond with a level of urgency he's never seen before, that furthers his concern even more. ] You're planning on something, aren't you. And you won't tell me what that plan is until I see it firsthand. I should be worried, huh...
[ because yeeeep, that is certainly her boot applying enough pressure to his crotch to make him stiffen up in more ways than one. he gags on a bit of spit and hardly acknowledges the amount of food that has been placed before the both of them in an unreasonably short amount of time. Aranea should be proud that her touch already has him squirming about in his seat, one elbow digging firmly into the table while his other hand shakily unfolds the napkin holding his utensils. ]
Not sure if I have, uh, much of an appetite now, h-ho... ney...
[ before she gets an opportunity to use her boot for evil and not good, he'll start poking around at the food that looks the best. or at least, he thinks it looks the best. it's hard to focus when one eye is almost always looking at that devious glint in her own. ]