Chapter Text
The sound of giggling laughter filled the air as Ivory and Bianca ran through the gardens, the pair of sisters in the midst of a game of tag. It was a rare day off for Jaune and an even rarer sunny day in Atlas, the usual dreary cloud cover absent, the sun blazing down from overhead. The sky was blue for as far as the eye could see, and while there would always be a chill in the air no matter what, this day it was offset by the sunshine.
It wasn’t often that they got to sit outside in the outdoor gardens, normally confined to mother’s glasshouse, so Jaune had the servants arrange morning tea to have out in the courtyard. Jaune sipped at his tea quietly as he watched his daughters frolic without care, their faces filled with happiness and joy.
This is what a family should be like. Affection for his lovely daughters filled his heart to bursting, and when they both waved at him as they continued to chase one another, he waved back happily.
Life was good. Too good. Jaune didn’t believe he was a cynical person, and yet he was wary. Everything had been going to plan these last handful of years from the downfall of Jacques Schnee to the constantly improving reputation of the company, and their ever strengthening ties with the faunus and Menagerie. He couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe was going to drop.
He didn’t want something bad to happen – but he expected it. Perhaps it was because of how he’d grown up, sold off and forced to witness a broken family from within, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Lien for your thoughts?” Willow asked gently, and when he turned to face her, he saw that she was watching him carefully. “You seem troubled.”
“Not troubled exactly,” he said slowly. “It’s just… things are good.”
She smiled. “They are. We’ve been blessed with two beautiful girls – and soon, we will be blessed with two more.”
Whitney was seven months pregnant – but that wasn’t all. She was also the size of a house, her words, not his, because she was carrying twins. Twin girls. Pregnancy suited Whitney, her skin glowing with luster, eyes alight with joy, though the closer she got to term, the more exhausted she had become. Like her sister’s, she had officially joined the Schnee Dust Company as his personal aide, though Jaune hadn’t reassigned Koralle. He now had two aides who worked in tandem, a good thing, since it meant that Whitney had someone with experience to learn from while also having someone to step in and shoulder the full load when she was out – as was the case now.
She still wanted to work, stubborn girl that she was, but Jaune had put his foot down. As was her way, she quickly gave in when it was his personal request, but in return, he needed to keep her thoroughly entertained whenever he had time.
Whitney was restless when she didn’t have something to sink her mind into.
Though that wasn’t all.
Pregnancy made her horny, and it was Jaune’s duty to attend to her when those feelings of sexual frustration became too much for her hand to handle. He did not mind one bit. Having sex with the woman carrying your children was an experience, and it was something all three sisters had in common. Once their hormones started running wild, they each became insatiable beasts.
She was currently resting in her room after Jaune had spent most of the morning attending to her needs.
He could still feel her hungry mouth on him, the phantom suck of her lips as she devoured his cock whole. He could still feel her frantic hands, nails raking down his thighs, and the snug, wet grip of her pussy as he took her on her side, one leg cradled up as he pistoned into her leaking snatch from behind. They had to be careful what positions they employed in her current condition, and that one was one of her favorites.
It meant he could play with her swollen, milk laden tits, her breasts even larger now that she was lactating, and kiss her shoulder and neck until her soft, pale skin bloomed red and purple. Jaune enjoyed marking her skin, and Whitney enjoyed bearing those marks – especially so Weiss could see.
Whenever that happened, Weiss made sure that he marked her twice as much, fucked her twice as hard, her small, toned body milking him furiously time after time. The spirit of competition between them was only to his benefit, though if he were a lesser man, it would be the death of him.
“But…?” Willow pressed, pulling his mind away from topics he shouldn’t be thinking of when around his mother.
“But… I just can’t help but think something is going to go wrong,” he admitted.
Willow Schnee was still just as beautiful as the day he arrived at Schnee Manor, looking half her age, her snow white hair having grown longer. It was now long enough to fall halfway down her back, though she always wore it up these days in some elaborate style that suited her. Today it was pulled into a series of looping braids, coming together in the back in a knot. A translucent hairnet shrouded it, glittering with small glass beads that reflected the rays of the sun and glittered like freshly fallen snow.
She was a vision – the source of Winter, Weiss, and Whitney’s beauty. If her daughters were going to age like her, Jaune was the luckiest man alive. He already was, in truth – but there were always more ways he could be luckier.
Her brow furrowed slightly, “It is unlike you to be so pessimistic, Jaune.”
“I know, it’s just…” he struggled to find the words. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and since Jacques was removed, things have only been good. Even that first year when the reputation of the company was in tatters, we were free. Winter, Weiss, Whitney – they’ve only made things better, and the Schnee Dust Company is going from strength to strength… the changes we’ve been able to bring about, the improvements, working with the Belladonna’s in Menagerie… but I just can’t shake that feeling that something is going to happen,” he shook his head, sighing. “As if the good times can only last so long before disaster strikes.”
Willow reached across the table and placed her hand atop his, her thumb stroking across his knuckles.
“You shouldn’t think like that, darling.”
“I know, it’s silly – but I can’t help it. I guess I’m worried that I’m too happy, and something is bound to bring me back down to Remnant.”
“There is no such thing as being too happy, Jaune,” Willow said earnestly. “Trust me on this – and if there was, then there is no one that deserves to be too happy more than you.”
Jaune smiled at her, and she smiled back.
He loved seeing her smile. He loved that she smiled constantly, now. Once, it had been a fleeting thing, jealously protected, hidden away for small moments, away from their father. Now Willow smiled easily, often, for the world to see. It reminded everyone just how gorgeous she really was, for joy only made her appear more beautiful.
“Sir, Ma’am,” a voice announced, and Jaune saw Klein approaching with the mail; newspapers, and letters. “The mail.”
“Thank you, Klein,” Willow said gratefully as he set it down on their table before retreating.
Jaune idly grabbed one of the newspapers and flipped through it. Mantle were pushing for a seat on the council, and a woman by the name of Robyn Hill had gained some traction. The lower city was supporting her and putting pressure on Atlas to hold a vote, a referendum for the people of both cities to decide. Jaune had worked with her several times through a number of the charities he was chair of, and found her to be an intelligent woman with her heart in the right place, though with the capacity to be scrappy if need be. While people from Mantle could run for council positions already, having a dedicated seat as their voice would be a helpful tool.
Jaune was in support of it. There had also been mention of Ironwood’s position in having two seats, due to being Headmaster of Atlas Academy and General of the Atlesian military. While Ironwood’s reputation was strong and without reproach, many felt that he wielded a little too much power.
There was also talk of expanding Mantle and building more homes, as the population was continuing to swell. It had been many years since Mantle had grown in size; the last new suburb had been constructed not long after the Great War, and since then, the city had been mostly stagnant as people either ascended to the upper city through fortune or luck, or immigrated to one of the other kingdoms. With all the work the Schnee Dust Company had been doing in recent years to create more opportunities for work, for the first time in nearly a century, people were moving to Mantle instead of away from it.
It was a good sign. Though many in Atlas may choose to ignore the lower city, they were only as stable as Mantle allowed them to be. Atlas couldn’t exist without them and the industry they provided, and so a strong Mantle meant a strong Atlas.
Willow opened one of the letters and quickly read through it, saying, “We’ve been invited to the wedding of Henry Marigold.”
“Someone has decided they can tolerate him, have they?” Jaune asked sarcastically.
“Now, now – I’m a firm believer that everyone has someone out there.”
There were a few more letters, one addressed to him. Picking it up, something about it set him on edge. The envelope was simple and unremarkable, which was a sign that it didn’t come from any of the families in Atlas. Even for things like this, they liked to show off and used only the best. The letter Willow had opened was enclosed in a parchment envelope and written on the finest paper.
This was completely ordinary.
The name on the front also gave him pause.
Not Jaune Schnee – Jaune Arc.
Jaune frowned.
The return address was in Argus, of all places.
Opening it, he saw that it was hand written. Something about it was vaguely familiar, the cursive igniting a flame of recognition, though he couldn’t place his finger on where he’d seen it. It was in the way the C’s leaned a little too far to the right, how the B’s connected to the next letter, and how the J of his name was overdone, an unneeded flourish. So he began reading – quickly stopping as his heart froze dead.
“Jaune…?” Willow asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”
Pale faced, he continued to read until the end before he handed it over to Willow without a word. She took it and read quickly, her expression falling.
“Oh… Jaune, darling,” her voice was troubled.
He knew it.
He knew something was bound to come up.
Why did he jinx it?
Jaune took the letter back and smoothed it out before setting it aside, leaning back in his chair. Not even the wonderful sounds of his daughters playing could reach him, his eyes swallowed by the blue sky above head.
Why now, of all times?
The letter was from the second oldest Arc daughter, that was why it was so familiar to him. A recognition buried in the deep past, from his childhood. Sapphire was the oldest child, followed by Rufous, the oldest – only – boy. After him was Saphron Arc, the second daughter and after her was… had been Jaune.
They’d been… close, once. In another life. In another time.
Or so he’d believed.
He’d not heard from any of his former siblings since that fateful day, all those years ago. Even though the Schnee Dust Company still did business with the Arc’s as a result of the contract that landed Jaune with his new family, he had not communicated with them personally, and they had done the same. Dust was mined on their lands, revenue was generated, and the spoils were divided according to that contract signed by Aureolin and Jacques.
The fact that contract still held was a testament to Jaune’s self restraint. More than once, he’d thought about abolishing it. He was of age now, and there was nothing stopping him from tearing it up and pulling out. The conditions had been met. A vindictive part of him wanted to do it, and yet he always held back.
He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he wanted it to endure, a constant reminder of what he’d lost… and what he’d gained.
But he’d kept up the silence between the two families. There was nothing there, no reason to speak to them, no reason for them to speak to him. It would only bring pain, on his behalf. For them, he’d rather not know.
And now…
According to the letter, she was living in Argus now. Raising a son. Adrian, that was the name she’d penned down.
A nephew.
No, not a nephew.
A stranger.
His hands curled into fists, his mood plummeting. She also mentioned that she’d been disowned in all but name for her choice in partner, a woman called Terra. The Arc’s were a traditional, old family – it didn’t surprise Jaune at all that they would cut off a member for being gay, rather than accept or embrace it. They’d been willing to sell their son, after all.
But so what? She was cut off, and he was sold – did that mean they were partners in circumstance now? Discards of the Arc family – was that why she was contacting him all of a sudden, more than a decade after they’d last seen and spoke to each other?
As if – what? They could reconnect?
Who the hell did she think she was?
His anger came sudden and hot, his blood boiling at the thought. What gave her the right?
Soothing hands settled on his shoulders, and Jaune blinked. Willow had moved behind him, her firm fingers digging into his tense muscles and massaging them gently, her thumbs caressing the corded muscle of his neck.
“Jaune,” she said softly. “Calm down.”
“How can I be calm when she sends this,” he all but spat, his body like a coiled spring. “As if nothing happened, as if we are still brother and sister!”
Willow had a delicate air about her, yet her hands and fingers were strong from all her time spent gardening. She kneaded his shoulders, and as much as he wanted to bristle, when she started humming gently, an old tune that he remembered her humming to Whitney when she was a baby… his anger began to subside. Not completely, but it simmered now instead of burning hot, his shoulders losing tension as she continued to massage them.
“Mother…”
“Jaune, listen to me,” her voice remained soft but he could hear the steel buried beneath, a show of her strength. “I’m not in any way excusing what you went through. I count my lucky stars everyday that you were delivered to this family, that I have such an amazing and wonderful son – but I know that my joy is born of your heartbreak, and it hurts me to know that your pain has benefitted me – my family – as much as it has. But you must remember, this girl – Saphron, your sister – she was only a little girl herself when the deal was made. She had no say.”
“They’ve all ignored me for years,” Jaune replied hotly. “They know where I am. A call, a text, a letter – anything. But there has been nothing, all this time.”
“Until now.”
Jaune scowled.
“Until now.”
“You’ve not contacted them either,” Willow pointed out, not an accusation, just a statement of fact.
“Because I’m not so pathetic as to go crawling back, hoping for scraps…”
“Jaune,” she chided, cupping his neck and rubbing it soothingly. “You know this is complicated – for you, and for them. Why do you think they may not have contacted you, all this time?”
“Because they don’t care.”
That was one possible reason. In reality, some of his biological sisters had been very young when he’d been sent away. They probably had no memories of him or very few, and it may have been as if they’d never had a second brother at all. As for Sapphire, Rufous, Saphron and Iris, the sibling next in line after Jaune, it was possible that they’d been discouraged from speaking to him.
They were adults now, and their fathers word shouldn’t hold such sway – but Jaune knew that it would. Things were different for families such as theirs, and the Arc’s especially – he hadn’t forgotten his teachings, as much as he may have wished to.
If their father had disallowed it, as their Lord, they would be compelled to obey.
The fact that Saphron was willing to break that vow, that solemn oath that they all took when they reached the appropriate age… it meant that things between her and the rest of the family must have been truly broken.
That is, if his former father truly had disallowed contact with him.
The likelihood was high, though. Continued communication between the siblings back then would have just created confusion, and though it wasn’t penned down in ink, Jaune wouldn’t be surprised if Aureolin and Jacques had agreed to this condition verbally.
“I cannot speak on their feelings for I do not know them,” Willow leaned forward, and Jaune felt her lips atop his head. “But this girl has extended an olive branch. Now you are in control, Jaune. If you wish to speak with her, to hear her out, it is your choice. If you do not, then that is also your choice. I can only advise you to do what you feel is best, for yourself. Not for anyone else.”
What was best for himself?
That was the question, wasn’t it?
He had a lot of thinking to do.
Winter, Weiss and Whitney all recognized that something was bothering him immediately, but after a few quiet words from their mother, none of them pressed him on it. Instead, they showered him in affection and love, and if he was a little rough with Winter that night, or Weiss the next, neither complained.
He stewed on it for nearly a week before he came to a decision.
“I’m going to visit her,” he told them all during dinner one night, after filling the rest of them in.
“I’m coming with you,” Winter said immediately.
“We all are,” Weiss confirmed, and Whitney nodded. For once, they were in total agreement.
But Jaune shook his head, “No, I don’t think that is wise. I’ll go alone.”
They didn’t like that, and their peaceful dinner became an argument. He loved all three of them, but they knew him best, and they knew how to needle him and say things that inflamed his anger. He was about to snap at them that his decision was final when Willow stepped in, ever the peacemaker.
“I agree with your brother.”
“What?” Whitney snapped. “Mother, please – see reason, this is not a good idea!”
Winter stared at Willow, surprised, while Weiss frowned, suddenly contemplative.
“Why do you agree with him?” Weiss asked.
“Because the entire Schnee family showing up on this girl's doorstep is not the way to handle this,” she said simply. “Not only will it be all over the six o’clock news for the world to see, the optics will appear as if we are bullying her.”
Winter grimaced. “It will seem like a show of force.”
Willow nodded. “Exactly – and beyond that, his three step-sisters visiting his blood sister with him, out of the blue? No. Jaune is right, you three cannot go.”
Weiss sighed. “You make a fair point, mother – but letting him go alone…”
“He won’t be alone,” Willow replied, and Jaune realized where she was going. “I will be going with him.”
He opened his mouth to deny her but one look into her eyes, and any objection was lost.
She faced him, taking his hands in hers. “I understand that you wish to face this alone, but let your mother be selfish and accompany you on this journey. I wish to take her measure.”
He agreed.
Willow Schnee rarely asked for anything, and something as important as this? Jaune could never refuse her.
Jaune set a date and had Koralle arrange everything, including contacting Saphron and informing her when they were coming, and how many of them would be there. He didn’t dare let Whitney do it as she was liable to say something she shouldn’t.
Argus was not much warmer than Atlas was. The north of Anima was blanketed by ice and snow, old spruce, pine and cedar trees laden with frost as far as the eye could see. Argus was protected by a high wall that extended from one side of the city to the other, bracketed by two large rocky formations upon which one housed the relay tower connected to the CCT. As the airship banked around to make its descent, Jaune spotted the military base stationed just off the coast, connected to the mainland by a long bridge.
A city though it was in size, Argus paled in comparison to places like Vale, Mistral, Vacuo, Mantle and Atlas. It had room for expansion, yet it would require heavy investment to shift the outer wall and create more space, as the city was wedged against the coast for its own protection. Even then, in recent years, it required the latest in Atlesian technology to defend against ocean bound Grimm, the deep harbor and large population inviting great beasts from the depths.
Of all the cities in the world, Argus was supplied with the most Hard-Light Dust. It used even more than Atlas. Without it, it left them vulnerable to attack.
Jaune had visited a few times in the past. Sometimes, clients from Mistral would make the trip north and meet him halfway, wanting any excuse to make a trip of it. Jaune didn’t mind. Though Mistral was warmer, and was beautifully perched high on the rocky peaks with winding roads and old, handsome buildings crafted from wood, it couldn’t stifle the stench of the rotten criminal underbelly that ran parts of the city uncontested.
In that way, he much preferred Argus. The architecture was a blend of old Mantlese and new Atlas, combining to create a handsome little city that was charming in more ways than one. The wide streets and brick buildings, the street car system that spread through the city like veins delivering lifeblood to all corners, it was a nice – if somewhat expensive – place to live.
Once they landed, they were shown to their hotel. Jaune was filled with nerves, his stomach rocking like a cage of angry cats. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this, and he spent longer than he usually did in the shower, attempting to calm down.
As always, it was Willow who helped him truly relax. After her own shower, she helped him prepare, buttoning his shirt and tying his tie, her fingers smoothing out the lapels of his jacket. It was something a wife did for their husband, but Weiss was absent, and so his mother was filling the vacant spot.
When he was dressed, she directed him over to the vanity and sat him down, running her fingers through his hair.
“It’s starting to grow longer again,” she chided, and Jaune closed his eyes, feeling her nails rake across his scalp pleasantly. “You’ll need a cut soon.”
“I like when it has a little bit of length,” he defended, chuckling as she huffed and began styling his hair, combing the damp strands neatly. Willow was a fan of older styles for men’s hair, parting it on the left and combing it over to the right. Truth be told, he was as well, though they typically wore their hair shorter than he preferred.
Jaune watched as Willow fussed about behind him, her eyes focused on the task, and he felt such a great swelling of love and affection for her that he found himself becoming a little emotional. Taking a deep breath, he met her eyes in the mirror.
“What?” she asked, brow furrowing slightly, hands pausing.
“Nothing,” he smiled. “Just think about how lucky I am that I have you.”
Her smile almost seemed shy, her eyes sparkling. “Are you trying to woo your mother now, young man? Because you needn’t bother, you already did that long ago.”
“I could never woo a woman as wonderful as you.”
To his surprise, her cheeks darkened, a healthy rose hue across the bridge of her nose.
“You really are dangerous. No wonder all my daughters fell hopelessly in love with you,” her smile was forlorn. “If only…”
Her voice trailed off, and he frowned. “If only what?”
“Nothing, don’t worry,” she perked up, putting the finishing touches on his hair with some spray, ensuring it would stay in place. “There. Now you are the most handsome man in Argus.”
Jaune was curious about what she’d been about to say but didn’t press, leaving the room to allow her some privacy as she got ready. He waited in the lounge area, and when she stepped through the door, he was blown away.
They were only going to dinner and not at a fancy restaurant or anything of the sort, so they were dressing down for the occasion, but you could put Willow Schnee in a potato sack and she would be the most divine creature on all of Remnant.
She wore a pale blue pleated skirt, the hem fluttering around her ankles as she moved while up top she wore a white woollen turtleneck blouse that conformed to her body’s natural shape, cupping her breasts and narrow waist tightly, as well as her her shoulders and arms down to the wrist. Her white hair was free flowing, though a piece on each side was braided and met in the back. Blue sapphire gems dangled from her ears, a matching bracelet around her wrist.
She clutched a small blue handbag to her belly, lips pulled into a smile as she waited.
“You look magnificent,” he said honestly.
Her smile widened, beaming.
“Aren’t you kind,” she took his arm. “Shall we?”
They were driven to the penned address, Jaune’s nerves returning in full force. Willow held his hand throughout the whole ride, and only released it when they arrived.
Saphron’s home was a nice little town house common in Argus, and as Jaune ascended the brick steps, he felt like he was walking to the gallows. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, steadying breath and knocked on the door firmly.
He’d barely lowered his hand when the door was flung open, and it was as if Jaune was staring into a mirror, only instead of a man, a woman was reflected back.
Jaune wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Though it had been a lifetime ago now, he still remembered. All of his blood siblings had looked alike, right down to the color of their eyes and the tone of their skin, though their hair tended to vary between shades of blond. Saphron’s hair was slightly darker than Jaune’s own, a shade of dirty blonde, and longer, flowing down her back in soft waves. She was dressed more casually, a sleeveless beige vest over an orange strapless shirt, and brown trousers.
She froze – as did he, the pair staring at one another silently. Her eyes roamed across his body, drinking him in as if she were afraid he would vanish at any second, no more than a mirage. Jaune felt the same, taking her in entirely, his mouth opening.
“Saph.”
It was what he used to call her, and it spilled from his lips without prompting, his throat tightening. Saphron’s expression wavered, her chin wobbling.
“Jaune.”
They both tensed, as if unsure what to do. They were saved by Willow, as she stepped beside him and offered her hand, a beautiful smile on her face.
“You must be Saphron,” she said warmly. “My name is Willow Schnee.”
Saphron hesitated, her eyes darting between them before she schooled her face and took Willow’s hand.
“That’s me,” she said cheerily, or tried. It came out strange. “Pleased to meet you.”
She showed them inside.
Her home was handsomely decorated without going overboard, and felt warm, cozy. While Jaune had endeavored to improve Schnee Manor over the years, it still felt much too empty and cold to him. This was the complete opposite.
A woman who could only be her wife waited for them.
She was brown skinned, though on the lighter side, with black shoulder length hair. A pair of red glasses were perched on her nose, and she wore a light blue cardigan atop a navy blue collared shirt, and a pair of dark gray jeans. At first glance she appeared calm, though Jaune could see the subtle hints of panic, the slight tightening of her eyes, and how her hands clenched in front of her belly to keep her fingers from fidgeting.
They were all in the same boat.
Jaune cleared his throat. “You must be Terra. I’m Jaune, and this is Willow, my step-mother.”
She smiled awkwardly, and took Willow’s offered hand. “Hello. I’m pleased you decided to come.”
The last member of their family ran in, a dark skinned boy that could only be Adrian. He was of an age with his daughters, and obviously caught the similarities between Jaune and Saphron because he stared at Jaune in surprise, as if unsure, while completely ignoring Willow.
“And this is Adrian,” Saphron scooped him up effortlessly, hauling the five year old against her side. “Adrian, this is—,” she hesitated, not knowing how to continue, but Jaune stepped in, smiling.
“Uncle Jaune,” he said, and he caught the glimmer of hope in Saphron’s eyes, and relief on Terra’s face. “I’m your mommy’s younger brother.”
Adrian gaped at him, in disbelief.
Willow laughed beautifully. “Oh, isn’t he just adorable~!”
Things were awkward during dinner but Jaune didn’t expect it not to be. Willow and Terra carried much of the conversation while Jaune ate his meal; roast beef and vegetables, drizzled with a healthy helping of gravy. Green beans with butter with only a small dusting of pepper. The mashed potato had grated cheese in it, as well as garlic, and Jaune was hit with a bout of nostalgia.
It had been Jaune’s favorite meal as a kid. Homegrown beef off the farm, and the fresh vegetables from their garden. The cheese was something he particularly enjoyed.
Saphron knew that.
He learned that Terra worked in communications and often contracted to the Atlas military. Saphron went to law school – and though she didn’t say it, Jaune had a sneaking suspicion that it was at the urging of their father – and while she graduated, she never went on to use her degree. She was a stay at home mom for the time being, taking courses to become an early childhood teacher.
Watching her with Adrian, Jaune saw that she’d make a good one.
After dinner was dessert. Vanilla ice cream, custard and apple crumble. Jaune found himself eating two bowls.
All things considered, the night went well. It wasn’t until the end that emotions flared.
Willow and Terra gave them a moment alone, and it was inevitable that one of them would break. It was just a matter of determining who would be first.
It was Saphron.
They were talking about something relatively mundane, though if someone asked him afterwards what it was, Jaune wouldn’t be able to remember. One moment they were talking, and then tears filled Saphron’s eyes and then she was embracing him, diving across the couch they were sitting on.
Jaune tensed, mouth falling open in shock – and then slowly, as she sobbed into his chest and apologized over and over again, his arms encircled her, his jaw clenching as she shook.
“I’m so sorry,” she blabbered. “I’m so sorry!”
Jaune wanted to be angry. He wanted to rage and scream – but Willow was right. Saphron had nothing to do with what happened, and everything after… it was complicated. The fact was even though Saphron could have reached out, he could have reached out too – and didn’t. It didn’t matter why.
But she’d reached out now, and here she was, his mirror, his older sister, sobbing into his chest as she completely shattered, and the tears built in Jaune’s eyes, rolling down his cheeks as she tightened his hold.
“I’m sorry too,” he said, choked up. “I was just so angry and sad, I didn’t want to think about any of you.”
That only made her cry harder, and when Jaune looked up, he saw Terra and Willow in the doorway before they turned around and left them alone to vent.
Afterwards, Jaune was exhausted. He dozed on the ride back to the hotel after promising Saphron to keep in touch, and extending an invitation to visit them in Atlas. Money wasn’t an issue; he’d pay for the entire thing, and he wasn’t going to hear an argument against it.
Willow shook him gently as they arrived, and he followed her back to their suite.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked softly once they were behind closed doors.
He nodded. “I am. I just… feel like a weight I never knew I carried has shifted.”
Saphron had spoken little about their other siblings, but had mentioned that a few of them still kept in contact with her, despite their fathers ruling. According to Saphron, they also missed him, though Jaune didn’t want to get his hopes up.
One step at a time.
“I’m going to have a shower.”
Jaune collected some nightwear and entered the bathroom. Due to the influence of Mistral, there was a large bath capable of housing a half dozen people with room to spare, and the showering area had seating. Bathing was almost a ritual there, and Jaune changed his mind, wanting to soak in a nice hot bath.
Undressing, he folded everything neatly and approached the shower, sitting down on the stool and rinsing himself off. Reaching for the bottle of shampoo, he paused when he heard the door open behind him.
That would only be one person.
“Jaune,” Willow’s voice was soft, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“Mother, what are you…?”
“I’ve come to wash your back.”
Jaune almost turned his head but stopped himself at the last moment, fixing his eyes on the tiled wall. “I – I think I’m old enough to wash myself.”
“I thought you could use some company. Do you really want to be alone with your thoughts right now?”
He didn’t, not really – but this was…
Jaune heard her approach, her bare feet against the tiled floor, and then she positioned one of the other stools behind him.
A hand settled on his shoulder, palm facing up, “May I?”
Jaune hesitated before he handed her the bottle of shampoo.
Over the years, Jaune couldn’t deny that he’d thought about his step-mother in ways a son should never think about the woman who raised them. He couldn’t help it. She was so beautiful, and what he found so attractive in Winter, Weiss and Whitney came straight from her. She was curvy like Winter and Whitney, but moved with the poise Weiss had perfected. Though she didn’t showcase it often, she could sing like an angel, a voice that her middle daughter had inherited. It always made him feel a little dirty to think of her in that way, but it only got worse when he became intimate with his step-sisters.
What if…?
It didn’t help that Weiss had once confided in him that she hated seeing her mother lonely, and if only Willow had a man like Jaune to love her the way she deserved. The way she’d said it had sounded like a veiled hint but Jaune had chosen to ignore it, the weight of Weiss’ possible suggestion freezing his voice in his throat.
But if she did things like this, it was putting pressure on his resistance to her charms.
Willow squirted a healthy portion of shampoo onto her hand, and then her fingers were tangling in his hair, gently lathering it through his blond locks. Jaune sighed, any tension in his body fading as her nails raked across his scalp. It almost felt like a massage.
“How does that feel?” she asked, her voice low.
“Good,” he admitted. “Really good.”
“Let me take care of you tonight,” she whispered, words burrowing deep into his psyche.
Would it be so bad…?
When she was done lathering his hair, she grabbed one of the cloths and a fresh, unused bar of soap. Jaune caught a hint of her body as she leaned by him, her pure white skin flashing in his peripheral vision alongside the pink towel she wore, and he felt his heart race.
She started with his shoulders, scrubbing firmly, the soap frothing up as she worked down his arms, one by one, and then under his pits. Jaune moved his body as appropriate, shivering when her fingers grazed his sides.
Meanwhile, Willow’s cheeks burned as she stared in open desire at his broad, muscular back. It reminded her of the first time she understood her true feelings regarding her step-son, some years ago now, when he was just shy of his eighteenth birthday.
Even though he’d always been so busy learning the business, Jaune never neglected his physical pursuits. Keeping his body in tip top shape was just as important to him as keeping his mind sharp and thinking flexible, and so he spent time every day working out or training with the sword, even though he would never become a Huntsman.
It had been a day like any other, and Willow had noticed he had trained well over time, missing breakfast. Deciding to surprise him, she’d taken his breakfast to him, only Willow was the one in store for a feast.
At some point, he’d removed his shirt, the sweat glistening on his skin as he went through his stances, swinging his sword in controlled, predetermined movements. The way his long, strong arms had flexed and bunched with every swing, his broad shoulders and back rolling with lean muscle, it had stoked the embers of a long extinguished fire. She’d watched him like a peeping tom, captivated, her body responding to the display of masculinity and strength, nipples tightening until they ached, her insides roiling with passion.
She’d fled before he finished, but it had already begun. For the first time in years, she’d masturbated, her thoughts consumed by her handsome step-son. Though it was the first time she’d desired him physically, it was hardly the first time she’d fallen in love with him.
The way he carried himself, the way he treated her daughters, the care in which he dealt with her – Jaune Arc had wormed his way into her cold heart long ago, it was just that Willow had always believed it was the love of a guardian that she held for him, not as that of a woman towards a man.
She’d been ready to hate him when Jacques had informed her of his decision. This strange boy coming in, stealing Winter’s birthright, stealing Willow’s name when he came of age – oh, how she’d been prepared to hate.
But one look at that innocent face had destroyed her rage, and replaced it with a desire to protect. A desire that lived on, even now.
Willow hated seeing him in pain, and tonight had been a painful experience, though a good one. She wanted to soothe his soul, in any way she could.
Being so close to him when he was naked, though – it was taking all of her self control not to do something foolish. Perhaps entering the bathroom at all was already the foolish action she should not have taken, but she was here now.
Willow wasn’t one for half measures.
Jaune felt his body sagging as full relaxation settled in. The cloth moved lower and lower, scrubbing at his lower back, and then her hands moved around. It took him a moment for it to register, Willow moving closer so her hands could reach around his front, lathering the soap over his chest and stomach.
He should stop her. He could handle the front. She didn’t need to do this. And yet he said not a word as she continued to scrub him, Jaune feeling her breath on the nape of his neck. A certain part of his anatomy responded, his cock swelling in earnest, and he swallowed as her hands quested lower.
If she wasn’t careful…
Too late.
Her soapy hands found his length, and they both froze. Willow’s heart leapt into her throat, while Jaune’s pounded like a drum, ringing loudly in his ears. After a moment, her hands moved, sliding over his shaft and caressing it softly.
“Is this for me?” she asked in a whisper.
Jaune didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter. Willow let one of her hands fall lower and cup his balls, squeezing them gently as she began to pump him with the other one, marveling at how thick and long he was.
She’d only ever been with one man, and Jacques simply didn’t compare. Jaune’s cock felt like it never ended, hand gliding from the root to tip, rubbing the end with her palm. Her insides coiled and throbbed as his length pulsed, and Willow sighed as her fingers mapped out the knotted veins, the burly, wide crown, tickling the underside with soft touches.
“Mm – darling, it feels like you’ve got a lot of pent up tension. Let mother take care of it.”
Any resistance he may have mounted was shattered as her lips ghosted over his back, Willow’s soft lips kissing his skin. Her hand moved faster, fingers tightening, jerking him off vigorously as she palmed and rolled his balls. His cock stiffened further, achieving maximum length as pre-cum oozed from the tip.
“Mother,” he panted, groaning as she focused on the head, twisting her palm as she stroked it quickly, pleasure pooling in his balls.
“Mm, call me Willow, baby,” she licked his shoulder before suckling on his skin, losing herself in the feel and taste of his body. It had been so long since she had touched another person, felt her lust consume her in a passion. Her long neglected pussy burned, rapidly growing wet as her arousal continued to climb. “Oh~!” she exclaimed as his cock flexed powerfully. “Do you like this, baby? Does it feel good when I stroke your cock like this?”
Hearing Willow Schnee say the word ‘cock’ was surreal, the hand on his balls joining the one on his shaft. She double fisted him, pumping him with increasing strength, Willow leaning against his back. At some point, her towel had fallen away and he felt her soft, generous swells press into him, her pebbled nipples poking into his skin.
Fuck. His step-mother was jerking him off. The mother of his wife, the woman that raised him. Beautiful, ethereal, untouchable – and here she was, beginning to pant as she jerked him off harder, hands blurring, lubricated by soap and pre-cum.
It was too much. It wasn’t enough. Jaune needed her.
She gave him one final twist, both hands wringing him out before he grabbed her wrists, stopping her.
“Jaune…?” Willow felt a sliver of worry. Had she pushed too far? Was he mad with her?
Removing her hands, Jaune stood, and when he turned, his magnificent cock was revealed to her eyes. It was just as long and thick as her hands said, the shaft curved upwards, the crown flaring out. It bobbed and twitched, the end flushed red, leaking pre-ejaculate, his balls heavy below the base. Willow felt her mouth go dry, confronted with such a vision of masculinity.
No wonder her daughters couldn’t get enough of him.
Jaune gazed down at her with dark eyes, drinking in her sublime body. Heavy, pale breasts – larger than Winter, though not Whitney, their weight sagging with age but still supple, the flesh plump and smooth. Her nipples were a shade paler than her daughters, ghost pink, areola wide, puffy, the tips pebbled aggressively, hard but small, pointed. Her belly was soft, her waist narrow, hips flaring out, and between her clenched thighs, he saw a bush of white hair, damp with her lust.
His cock jerked up in excitement.
Willow squeaked as he hauled her up roughly, and then he was kissing her lovely lips, her eyes fluttering as she moaned deeply, mouth opening gladly. His tongue slipped into her mouth, coaxing out whimpering groans, devouring her completely.
She tasted sweet, Jaune eagerly sucking on her tongue, feeling her body tremble against him. Palming her waist, he squeezed her hip and swallowed her sweet little cries, nibbling on her lower lip gently.
“Willow,” he said, voice dark, needy, and her vagina clenched. “Do you really want this?”
“Yess,” she hissed, hands clutching at his body. His turgid member slid across her belly, making her womb shudder in response. With enough fuel, even a dying star could be reignited, and that is exactly how she felt, her body responding in ways it hadn’t in years, yearning to be bred.
Bred by her wonderful, amazing step-son.
Willow felt adrift without a paddle. She might have had three children but she was inexperienced in sex. Jacques had mounted her and done the deed, but they’d been vanilla, without discovery and curiosity. She’d only ever had sex on a bed, but there was no bed here, and as Jaune slowly walked her back towards the wall, she realized he was going to fuck her here, in the bathroom, up against the wall like she was some common girl, some little slut.
Her nails bit against his back, and Jaune responded by biting her lip, harder. Willow moaned, rubbing her chest across his firm body, his muscles unyielding.
When one of his hands cupped her pussy, she gasped, choking on air. She was drenched, and Jaune groaned as he massaged her fat, swollen vulva, squeezing her outer labia together before spreading them, stroking her slit until his fingers dripped with her essence. Her clitoris was on the larger side, thick and throbbing, and when he pressed his palm against it and grinded down, Willow cried out, her voice echoing around the bathroom.
“Jaune~! T-That feels so good, darling~!” she writhed as he used his whole hand to put pressure on her crotch, her hips rolling, humping it. “Mmmng~! Yes, baby – keep touching me like that~♡!”
Her inner labia were small and slick, her entrance twitching wildly, clenching, rigid. Teasing it lightly, he inserted one finger, feeling her snug, swelling grip around his digit. Willow panted, clutching at him, and when he began working it in and out, she moaned unabashedly.
Hearing his step-mother make such sounds made his cock ache with how hard it was, drooling over her hip. Soon one finger became two, and Jaune reached as deep inside as he could, up to his knuckle, curling his fingers just right and finding that sweet little spot that made her see stars.
Willow sobbed as he stroked her g-spot with firm movements, raking his fingers across the upper wall of her tunnel. Her thighs trembled, pleasure spiking up her spine, heat spreading through her pelvis, pooling deep in her womb. She felt hot, too hot, the pressure building rapidly, her pussy throbbing in delight.
“You’re so wet, Willow,” Jaune groaned, rocking his hips against her, grinding his cock along her hip. “I think you’re ready for me.”
“I am. Please, baby – put it in. Make me forget his touch,” she pleaded, suddenly rabid. Her eyes were wild, begging. “Make me forget. Override his touch with yours. I only want to remember you, Jaune. Fuck me until only you remain.”
There was no way he could deny her.
Giving her pussy a few more pumps, he pulled his fingers out of her clutching hole, Willow moaning at the loss. Then with a heave, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, muscles bunching as Willow yelped in surprise, stomach swooping as she became weightless, her back against the cold tiles. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she felt his curved cock jutting up against the underside of her butt.
“Jaune~!”
She left a glistening trail across his abs as he lifted her higher, directing his cock towards her molten slit. Willow groaned as his glans pressed against her pussy, and lowering her down, her voice cracked as his fat cock slipped inside her.
It had been so long, and it felt like an age as gravity aided her descent, her insides parting as his length cleaved apart her snug inner walls. Jaune sighed as her wet heat embraced him, coiling around his member as he forced her down until he was balls deep, Willow shuddering as he docked with her cervix.
He was so much bigger than her ex-husband, touching her in places that had never been touched before. Her toes spread as he nudged her cervix, rolling his hips gently, grinding the tip across her deepest spot. Tremors wracked her body, pleasure burning through her, and she could do nothing but desperately hold on, moaning wantonly as Jaune began to move.
She wasn’t as tight as her daughters, though that was expected after three pregnancies. But the way her folds clung to him, sticky and unwilling to let go stimulated him in a different way, and her body temperature was hotter. His cock felt like it was melting inside her, and as he began to thrust, he knew that it wouldn’t take long for her soft body to coax out his sperm.
So he moved hard and fast, establishing a rapid tempo, gliding in and out of her wet quim with long, smooth thrusts. Willow gasped as he began fucking her in earnest, her pussy quaking as he slid into her deeply.
“Haaaah~! Ahn~! Yes, baby – just like that~♡!”
Jaune grunted as he moved faster, planting his feet against the floor and tilting her pelvis perfectly. His heavy balls slapped against her ass, his cum churning as her wet hole gushed around his pistoning shaft, clap, clap, clap, his thighs drenched in her juices.
Willow was on cloud nine, eyes crossing as he poked her deep, putting pressure on her womb. That hot, molten ball continued to tighten in her tummy, ecstasy flowing through her limbs every time he bottomed out, her pussy seizing in delight. She’d never been fucked this way, Jaune in total control of her body, strong, firm, his long, fat cock changing her shape.
He was overriding everything she’d known, her gasps coming quicker, her moans sloppy, filled with lust. Jaune had her pinned against the wall, his muscular frame like a stone pillar, his hips slamming into her with reckless abandon.
This was true bliss.
She couldn’t get enough.
“R-Right there~!” she sung sweetly, rippling around his tool. Jaune changed up his glide, thrusting shallowly, then deep, targeting the front and back, digging against her g-spot as she wailed before thrusting deep, knocking on the door to her womb. Willow thrashed, trapped, drowning in pleasure as it surged. “Jaune~! Yes, baby, keep going~! Mmnngg~! Haaaaahnn~! Mmmm—you’re going to make me cum~!”
She’d never cum from penetration before, her insides cramping, becoming tighter as Jaune continued to bang away at her, his voice rough, dark as he grunted, fingers digging into the underside of her thighs with punishing force.
The way her pussy sucked at him was soul destroying, Jaune chasing his own end. His wet scrotum stuck to her ass with every trust, even as his balls tightened, his climax building. Her sweet voice in his ear was driving him on, coaxing out an animal, blindly thrusting as the pleasure approached no return.
He pounded deep, and Willow jerked as something gave way. Her eyes rolled as a deep ache erupted in her tummy, his glans forcing her cervix open, slipping directly into her womb. The sensation was sharp, sudden, and with a wail of rapture, Willow tipped over the edge, her orgasm slamming into her without remorse.
Jaune felt her cervix open up to him, inviting him within the blistering embrace of her womb, and it was all he needed. As her vagina contracted around him violently, rippling in orgasm and milking his shaft with everything it had, his cock swelled, flexing mightily as his balls tensed in victory.
Willow felt her step-son’s hot, heavy cum gush into her uterus, robbing her of thought and reason. Three, four, five, more – an endless deluge of potent, virile cum, jetting into her womb with powerful, mind rending shots. It was all the fuel her body needed, her body quaking as Jaune rutted against her, his primal instincts attempting to inseminate her.
At some point she must have blanked out, the pleasure too much, her body consumed with sensation. When she regained awareness, she was on the bed, her limbs shaking as aftershocks rolled through her rhythmically. Blinking in confusion, she felt a hand gently massaging her tummy, a whimper escaping her lips as he pressed down on her womb.
“There you are,” Jaune said happily. Willow felt boneless, her head turning awkwardly, staring into his wonderful eyes. “I thought I lost you there for a moment.”
His glistening, cum covered cock was still hard, resting against her hip. Flushed red and swollen, it looked more intimidating now than ever.
That had been inside her.
“J-Jaune…” her belly felt tender, full. Her womb was bursting with his cum, in a way that she’d never experienced before. The way he had penetrated her so deeply, even beyond her cervix…
There was no going back.
“Darling,” she cooed. “Can we… again?”
He blinked, surprised. “Are you sure?’
She nodded, already feeling her hunger grow. A soft palm encircled his sticky cock, and she began stroking it slowly.
“You can’t stop until I’ve taken on your shape,” she rolled towards him, kissing his chest. “Mother commands it.”
It was a long night.