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c-jay-s-text-posts-only · 1 year

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A Special Mission

Written with permission from @juanarc-thethird

With further inspiration from @riku-izanami

Late one evening, team RWBY were hiding in the bushes. They were waiting for Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Oscar to return from the Schnee Family’s estate; their goal - to cut a long introduction short - was to extort money from Weiss’ Father. He’d cut her allowance off again; as usual, without good reason, and was content not to restore it.

He’d cut Winter off as well - which everyone involved thought was strange, so the two sisters consulted together, and hatched a plan.

Time passed, and Weiss was getting more and more worried.

As far as she was concerned, they were taking too long.

“Do you really think they’re okay?” She asked for the umpteenth time,

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Ruby patted her shoulder, “I’ve been travelling with them for-like-ever now, they know what they’re doing.”

“I hope you’re right . . .” Weiss conceded, but she still felt uncomfortable,

“I’m more concerned about how this was all your idea.” Remarked Blake, “I know you don’t like your father, but I never thought you’d go so far as to blackmail him to fund our adventures.”

“Yeah, I’m with Blake on this one.” Put-in Yang, “We know how screwed up your family is, but this is pretty sick!”

“Yes . . . we’re a messy house.” Weiss agreed with a sigh, “But if he’s going to say that I’m not a member of the Schnee Family anymore, then he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Just then, they all heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, and they poked their heads out to see.

A large, double-wide military van cruised along the road towards them; Ruby whipped Crescent Rose and peered through the scope. She could see Ren and Oscar in the front, while Nora, who popped her head out of the moonroof, turned around to wave at them.

Ren brought the van to a stop when he saw Ruby go out into the middle of the road.

“We’re back!” Shouted Nora, “Did we miss anything?!”

“Nope!” Yang popped the ‘p’, “Thing’s’re movin’ a mile-a-minute around here.”

“Sweet, ‘cuz have we got a lot to tell you all!” Nora vaulted herself from the roof of the van, and executed a perfect mid-air tumble.

She landed easily in front of them. Ren and Oscar just opened their doors and stepped out.

Ruby was excited.

“So how’d it go?” She asked, “Did you get the money?”

Nora’s winning smile faltered.

“Y- . . . yeah . . . about that . . .” She began, “We- uh . . . we didn’t . . . we didn’t get anything . . .”

“What?!” Weiss couldn’t believe it, “What was the point of this mission then? What happened?!”

“Look, it’s not our fault!” Nora insisted defensively, “He’s a horrible person! Now I get why you wanted to blackmail him so bad!”

“Well that makes three of us now.” Muttered Blake,

“Okay, tell us what happened from the start-” Yang tried,

“No, seriously, I can’t believe he’d be so ruthless!” But Nora wasn’t finished, “Like, everything he did to his own employees and family?! It’s terrifying! People like your father are the ones you have to stay away from!

“Nora!” Yang interrupted, “Just tell us what happened already!”

“Okay-okay-okay!” And Nora took a breath to calm down, “We just went there, and then we gave him the run-down, y’know, like: ‘pay us this much, and we’ll keep our mouths shut’, blah-blah-blah.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Nodded Ruby,

“Sounds about right.” Yang nodded as well,

“But then he kinda, sorta got angry . . .” Continued Nora, “so then I got cheesed . . .”

“. . . Okay . . .?” Weiss was growing concerned.

Nora raised her eyebrows and glanced away.

“And then . . . things kinda just . . . went from there . . .”

Team RWBY exchanged worried looks.

“You-” Weiss tried, “You didn’t threaten to break his legs, did you?”

Nora gasped dramatically.

“I am oh-ffended!” She exclaimed, putting a hand on her chest, “Of course, you know I totally did . . .”

“Alright, then did you actually break his legs?” Asked Blake,

“Of course I didn’t!” Nora looked even more offended, “What kind of violent woman do you take me for?!”

No one had an answer; secretly, Weiss was relieved to know Nora hadn’t gone that far.

“Well, thank the Gods for that.” She murmured,

“But we did kidnap his wife~!” Nora’s eyes lit up,

“You what?!” Weiss exclaimed,

“You did what?!” Yang's eyes popped open.

Nora giggled excitedly and meandered over to the back of the van. With a click, the doors opened, revealing a fine rump firmly straddling a well-known waist - the boots and pants stuck out from underneath her. A wet, sucking noise cut through the air from behind the seats.

Weiss was horrified.

“Mother!?” She shrieked,

“Oh shit!” Yang’s jaw hit the ground,

“Woah . . .” Blake was surprised,

“Yo . . . I didn’t know he could work it like that . . .” Ruby whispered.

Willow sat up and turned around when she realised someone had called her; now everyone could see how she looked.

Her hair was let down and dishevelled, flowing freely past her shoulders. She had taken off her blue jacket, and her blouse was open, but not enough to expose anything indecent, just the impossibly deep valley of her chest - which Weiss would only very quietly admit to being jealous of.

“Oh!” Willow brushed a few strands of hair away, “Hello Daughter. I didn’t realise we’d gotten here so soon, no one told me . . .”

“Too soon . . .” A familiar voice from near Willow cracked and sighed dreamily.

“Yeah sorry, Ma’am." Nora apologised, thoroughly unabashed, “Didn’t wanna interrupt the uh- y’know . . .”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, but Willow just gave her a warm smile.

“Please, sweetheart.” She said, “Call me by my name. It’s really the least I can let you do, considering everything you’ve all done for me.”

“Please, don’t stop on our account.” Blake thought this was very funny.

Weiss found her voice again and addressed her issue calmly.

“Mother, why are you kissing . . . him?” It was very difficult for Weiss to ask without wanting to throw up in her own mouth.

Willow gave Weiss a perplexed look.

“I had to pass the time somehow, didn’t I?” She told her, as if it was the most obvious thing, “Besides, he’s actually quite charming. I’d have been a fool to stay back at the Manor and let this gorgeous, young man walk away.”

The familiar voice gasped like he’d just seen something amazing, and he sat up a little, just enough for the others to see the expression on his face. Jaune's lips seemed brighter in the low light, and his cheeks and chin were smeared with pink lipstick; a lonely mark stood proudly out on his forehead.

“You really think I'm gorgeous?” His smile looked hopeful.

Willow turned back to him, returning an all too tender smile, and gently stroked the underside of his cheek; her eyes twinkled in a sweet and unbridled way.

“Of course, Love.” Willow nodded.

Jaune flopped back down and giggled in such a giddy fashion, even kicking his feet like a little girl. Willow tittered along with him; it was so cute to her. Yang thought it was almost adorable.

‘Man, if only I didn't already know why he's so happy.’ She mused, ‘. . . It's really sad now that I think about it.’

“Oh come on, Mother!” Interrupted Weiss, “Jaune of all people?!”

Willow looked a little surprised and switched her gaze between Jaune and her daughter.

“Jaune?” She asked, “This the annoying boy you wrote to us about?”

“Yes, that's him!” Weiss nodded fervently.

Jaune looked embarrassed; he hated remembering how foolish he’d been back in those days. But Willow just cupped Jaune’s face, eyeing him analytically.

“Hmmm . . . well, he’s more handsome than you'd let on.” She appraised, “And he’s hardly scraggly. He's quite well-built and kept. He’s also been nothing short of the perfect gentleman since he and his friends helped me escape.”

“What?” Weiss felt her world begin to crumble,

“Oh- and his hands have only ever been right where they needed to be.” Willow smirked coyly, "He's also very huggable and warm, it's just what I needed after all this time."

“Um-” Ruby raised a finger,

“Around my shoulders or on my back.” Willow clarified, “He asked permission before touching anything else.”

“Oh-” Ruby lowered her finger, “Wooowwwww . . .”

“Excuse me!” Weiss tried to argue, “Are we forgetting who this is?! He was scraggly when we met!”

“Well, he’s clearly not anymore.” Willow furrowed her brow, then broke into a teasing smile, “Weiss you're looking at-”

She stopped for a moment and turned to Nora.

“Um, what is it you young people call it?” She asked, “A beef tart- no, pie, was it?"

“Uh- Beef cake.” Nora corrected her, “Close enough.”

“Ooh yes, that’s it!” Willow snapped her fingers, “He’s a proper Beef cake. Not over-muscled, but not too frail either. And he’s the perfect height too!”

The others couldn't see it, but Jaune’s face had turned as red as Ruby’s cloak. He felt so loved.

“D’oh, stop it!” He crooned, “You’ll make me blush!”

“You dunce, you'd blush for just about anything, wouldn't you?!” Snapped Weiss,

“Weiss,” Her mother warned, “He’s not a dunce, he’s a dear. But if he’s to wear the dunce cap for anyone, it will be for me.”

Willow turned back to Jaune, tickling his chin.

“Now, darling, be a good boy, and bring those wonderful lips back to Mommy.” She licked her own,

“Woof!” Jaune’s voice cracked a little.

Just as their lips were about to touch.

“Mother, stop it!” Weiss was ready to rip her hair out.

Willow, exasperated, rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Oh relax, will you, Dear.” She chided, still stroking Jaune’s face, “It’s not as if you two are together.”

“That’s as may be!” Admitted Weiss blushing, “But he’s still my friend!”

“A friend you regularly spurned if my memory serves correctly.” Willow's reminder was firm, “Who was it complaining about his every advance in her letters? Not me, certainly. I wasn’t there, but if I had been, I’d have urged you to say yes. Or I'd have taken him out myself, perhaps.”

“YOOOOOOOOOO-!!” Yang, Nora, and Ruby shrilled, none of them could believe their ears.

Willow Schnee thought Jaune Arc was attractive?

A billionaire woman liked - for lack of a better word - a bumpkin?

What had happened to the world since team RNJR started their adventures together?

And not only that!

In spite of her constant drinking, Willow had read the letters Weiss wrote home. She had been paying attention to her after all.

Now that really topped it off!

Weiss shrunk back a little.

Deep down, she knew her mother was right. Although she had apologised to Jaune for being so rude in the early days, she had a very sinking feeling that he hadn’t accepted it.

Now she worried Jaune was doing this just to spite her.

Weiss would admit she knew next to nothing about boys outside of what Winter, Klein, and her father had told her, and what she had seen in Whitley.

Most of it had been not promising - Klein notwithstanding of course, because he was always so wonderful - and it led her to believe all boys had a sordid, icky endgame, one which only they would benefit from. So, Weiss had opted to stay away from them.

Despite of the forewarning, she had briefly dropped her guard and pursued Neptune back at Beacon, but that was ancient history now. There were bigger fish to fry, and romance was not among the cards as far as she was concerned.

While Weiss stewed in her thoughts, Oscar and Ren gave their friends a proper run-down of what had happened.

It was just as Nora said.

They went to the Manor and were invited inside. They spoke to Jacques and laid out their proposal, but as it turned out, he was already prepared for the blackmail they had, and he threatened to call the police after having them escorted out.

So, the team had to fall back and rethink their strategy. But as they made their daring getaway, they came across Willow; she had seen and heard everything and was desperate to get away as well.

She even promised to help with blackmailing Jacques further, which everyone thought was hilarious, and immediately invited her along. When they jumped into the van, Nora noticed how Willow was acting, and - in her infinite wisdom - offered Jaune to her, mostly so she could let out her frustrations. She knew Jaune was good for venting.

Ren was too, but he was her man.

So it was arranged.

Jaune and Willow took the seats in the very back of the van, while Ren drove with Oscar in the passenger seat.

Nora stayed between both parties and decided to watch their six, occasionally poking her head out and very suspiciously eyeing Schnee Manor while they drove away, as if the whole mansion, grounds and all, might get up and chase after them.

Jaune stayed huddled with Willow, keeping her company. He'd done this sort of thing before; comforting people came easily to him.

Now because Nora was too busy keeping a lookout from the moonroof, and Ren and Oscar kept their eyes on the road, none of them had seen what was going on between Jaune and Willow; until Nora came back down and heard a noise, a very distinct smooching noise, so she peered over the seat to look.

As soon as she saw it, Nora wanted to whoop and cheer for Jaune; seeing him lock lips with Willow Schnee of all people was equally as amazing as it was funny - his luck really seemed to hold out as far as mothers were concerned, and Weiss’ was definitely no exception.

But what really made Nora happy was the look on Jaune’s face after they shared their first kiss.

They had all been through so much since The Fall; everyone knew Jaune blamed himself for damn-near all of it - both she and Ren knew this was mostly because he felt guilty about Pyrrha.

And when she saw Jaune open his eyes again, Nora saw a spark in them.

One she was sure had been snuffed out some time ago.

Nora was so happy she nearly couldn’t contain herself, but she knew they had to be quiet, so telling the others about it would have to wait, at least until they were far enough away. But by the time they were, they had arrived back to their friends.

Weiss began feeling very light-headed.

“I don’t like to be that person.” Oscar called to Willow and Jaune, “But it's time we left. They’ll have caught on to us by now.”

Willow let out a disappointed whine, and accidentally wiggled her hips on Jaune as she adjusted herself.

“Oh, please, just five more minutes?” She begged, “We’ve finally come to a-”

Willow stopped when she felt something poke up behind her.

Something big. And thick.

“Oh~,” She purred,

“Sorry . . .” Jaune looked most embarrassed.

But Willow didn’t mind at all.

“Make it ten.” She bit her lip, “I doubt any road will be smooth enough for what I want to do next~.”

“Ew.” Weiss’ frown was so broad, Blake thought her mouth might fall off.

“Make it fifteen!” Ruby piped up, “I want in!”

“What?!” Demanded Weiss,

“The fuck!?” Yang’s eyes popped open.

To everyone's shock, Willow looked excited.

“Oh my, yes!” Undaunted, she pushed the back seat down, allowing for more space in the van, “The more, the merrier.”

“YES!” Ruby pumped her fist, then stuck her finger up Yang's nose, "IN! YO! FACE!"

And with a flourish, she used her semblance to close the gap; dashing inside and slamming the door behind her before Yang could do anything. The van rocked and creaked as the three of them started going at it. Weiss and Yang were speechless.

“This might just about the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” Nora was happy for Jaune,

“I think this is the quietest it’s even been between these two.” Blake pointed to Yang and Weiss,

“WWWHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!” Wailed Yang,

“And there it goes . . .” Blake sighed,

“Why do these things keep happening to me?!” Weiss couldn’t believe it, “I go to Beacon, I don't get to lead! I see a nice boy, but he's a dirty flirt! And then Beacon is destroyed, I'm forced to come back here, help save the world-”

Weiss was so upset, she couldn't stop thinking about everything she'd seen go wrong.

“Be strong, Weiss,” Yang wrapped her weakly into a hug, “We’ll get through this together!”

“Shut up, don’t touch me!” Weiss hugged her back,

“I don’t want to be the one who jinxes it,” Ventured Ren, “But things could’ve been worse . . .”

“Oh, worse, how?!” Demanded Yang,

“Could’ve been?!” Weiss was indignant, “I fail to see-!? ”

“Winter and Raven.” Blake figured.

Weiss gagged, and Yang snarled; both girls tightened their grip on each other.

“Well . . .” Nora rocked back and forth on her toes, “I can’t speak for Raven, but . . .”

“But what?!” Snapped Weiss, “Out with it!”

“I mean-” Nora pretended to think carefully about what to say next, “How do you think we got the van?”

Weiss turned as white as her hair.

“Dear God . . .” Muttered Blake,

“There’s more . . .” Added Oscar,

“Nooo . . .” Groaned Yang, “No mo-ho-ho-ho-ore . . . It was enough to know that this guy fucks! And that my baby sister wants to too!”

A symphony of sweet moans rang out from the van.

“AAOOHH GODS, SHUT THEM UP!” Yang couldn’t take it anymore,

“Yeah, Winter’s arranged to see him soon.” Oscar said quickly, “Either after we escape Atlas, or when we meet her later. We have to keep the van somehow-”

“NNNOOOOO!” With that final sob, Weiss passed out in Yang’s arms.

“YES~!” Willow trilled from inside the van,

“And-now THIS is a katana~!” Hollered Ruby.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A very awkward thirty minutes later, Weiss woke up, and the teams were on their way to a safe haven, far away from Schnee Manor. The ride was quiet, aside from the tires humming on the road beneath them.

Both Weiss and Yang were upset - Weiss more so than Yang, but that still didn’t mean it was something to sneeze at.

Jaune could feel Weiss’ angry eyes boring holes into him.

“Um-” He tried,

“Not!” Weiss interrupted, “A word out of you.”

The message received, Jaune shrank into himself, and shut his mouth. Strangely, Blake stepped up to defend him.

“You can’t be mad at him, Weiss.” She said, “He didn’t do anything wrong really.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Snorted Weiss, “Nothing wrong, indeed!”

“You heard what Ren and Nora said,” Blake reminded her, “He was only doing what he could to cheer her up.”

“He didn’t even try to stop kissing my mother.” Weiss was not having it, “But he did it for her, because it made her happy, so I can’t be mad at him for that now can I?!”

Jaune wanted to say something.

“I-” He tried again,

“Shut up!” Weiss interrupted again.

Once more, Jaune deflated. This time, Ren defended him.

“I think this has more to do with being repressed than anything else.” He reasoned from the driver’s seat, “Your mother went years without the touch of a loved one or a true lover. Jaune is willing to fill that role for her.”

Yang spotted the chance for a dirty joke, but didn't dare take it.

“And Jaune’s always thinking about what’s best for us.” Oscar put-in from the passenger seat,

“Annd he still has to bang your sister for the van in a while.” Nora added, almost too chipperly,

“Not helping, Nora, but thank you.” Ren called,

“Look, can we not talk about banging each other’s sisters for a sec?” Yang was feeling enormously uncomfortable.

Weiss was still upset.

“Well, he might’ve held better control over himself!” She said huffily, “And that- um, other sword of his . . .”

Jaune shifted awkwardly in his seat, but relaxed a little when Willow’s arms snaked discreetly over his shoulders. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice.

“Alright, I hate to be on Vee-Bee’s side,” Yang admitted, “But I can’t really judge him either.”

At that moment, Ruby popped her head up from behind the seat next to Jaune; she was most eager to hear this.

Weiss was taken aback.

“Excuse me!” She put a hand on her chest,

“Weissy, have you seen your mother lately?” Yang asked, “Like, actually looked at her from head to toe?”

“What has that got to do with-” Weiss tried to brush it off,

“Weiss, your mom is hot.” Yang said bluntly, “There’s no easy way for me to say this.”

Weiss was appalled and speechless. Because she didn’t say anything, Yang took that as her cue to continue.

“I mean, look at her,” She insisted, “like, really look at her! She’s pretty, she has boobs as big as mine, a slim waist, and butt so fine, Blake almost looks a little small next to it-”

The words were out of Yang’s mouth before she could stop herself. Blake raised her eyebrows in a challenging way.

“Careful . . .” She warned,

“Sorry,” And Yang continued, “But I seriously can’t blame Jaune, looking at this objectively anyway. If I was a man with a working pair of eyes, your mom would give me a hard-on too. Hell, I like girls too, and she's doing me favours just being here with us!”

Willow blushed and smirked proudly behind Jaune’s head, she felt very flattered. Until now, she and Ruby had been quietly recovering out of the others’ sight.

“Um . . . thank you?” Jaune shrugged, unsure of what was going on just then.

Yang gave him a very pointed look.

“You’re still not off the hook with me, dude.” She said, shaking her head.

Once more, Jaune recoiled and sighed.

“Anyways, the point is there’s nothing we can do about this now.” Blake explained, “What’s done is done, and we should be focused on the real issue. How are we going to get money for our adventure?”

“Ideas, anyone?” Oscar asked, turning around to face his friends,

“Become professional jewel thieves?” Suggested Yang,

“Stage a series of bank robberies?” Weiss considered,

“Become prostitutes!” Declared Nora,

“WHAT?!” All the other girls were disgusted,

“What?” Nora shrugged, “It’s legal in Mantle.”

“. . . Seconded, I guess . . .” Ren muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jaune knew this was only so he could keep an eye on Nora - if push came to shove. It had been her idea, after all.

Ruby shook her head.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Ruby piped up for the first time in a while, “do we have any legal ideas?”

Willow, who hadn’t said anything either, poked her head out and calmly intervened.

“My dear, if you needed money, you should have just asked me.” She said, addressing Weiss specifically.

Everyone stopped fussing for a moment, and flipped their gaze between Weiss and her mother. Collectively, they all ignored where Willow’s hands were resting.

“I . . . I could have?” Weiss seemed surprised,

“Of course!” Willow assured her, “Whatever made you think you couldn’t?”

Weiss looked down and mumbled; she looked a little hurt.

“I . . . I didn’t think you’d answer if I did the asking . . .” She said quietly.

Willow smiled kindly.

“Weiss, you’re my daughter.” She said, “My sweet, darling girl. I know you may not think I would, but I’d do anything for you if you asked. I’m not your father, but like you and everyone else, I’ve been hurt by him too.”

‘. . . Oh . . .’

Jaune looked a little to the left and reached up, gently clutching her hand, he brushed his thumb over her own; Willow accepted the gesture, and their fingers twined.

Once again, Weiss was speechless. She didn’t know what to think. For so long, Willow had made herself an invalid, in Weiss’ eyes, and now to see her coming back to life in such a profound way . . .

To see her coming back into her life . . .

It was moving . . .

“Thank you . . .” Weiss nearly wanted to cry.

At last, they arrived at Atlas’ Edge. This was like a border crossing for the Kingdoms of Atlas and Mantle; some of the airships travelling between the two kingdoms were big enough to carry small vehicles, like cars and pick-up trucks.

Now, the general public had their own fleet of airships for basic travel, but authorised personnel, such as Atlas Specialists and certain huntsmen still affiliated with the military, were transported using different ones. These were twice the size of the others, big enough in fact to carry military equipment like weapons, dust shipments, and, of course, the double-wide vans.

Willow directed Ren towards the authorised airships, and he gently cruised the van to a stop. Everyone got out and stretched their legs, and after a few minutes, they saw Winter come out from the shadows. Weiss was relieved to see her big sister.

“Winter!” She called.

Winter wasted no time and gave her sister a hug.

“I’m glad to see you made it out safely.” She said, hugging Weiss back, “All of you. We’ll be taking you to Doctor Polendina’s Pharmacy, you can lay low there until this situation blows over.”

“Thank you, Winter.” Weiss was grateful,

“Phew!” Remarked Nora, “That’ll be great. Your dad sucks, bee-tee-dubz.”

“What?” Winter blinked, “Oh yes, um, you’re right, he does.”

“Hold on, who’s we?” Asked Blake.

Before Winter could answer, an airship drew smoothly into the dock, and the ramp lowered.

“I can fly an airship.” She explained, “But I knew I should wait out here to make sure you arrived on time. Specialist Amin is in the cockpit now. Speaking of which, by the way, you’re late.”

Weiss gulped. Although she knew the teams were in a hurry, she hadn’t known how close they’d cut it.

“Five minutes behind schedule, what kept you?” Winter demanded.

“Five minutes isn't too bad though, is it?” Asked Ruby.

At that moment, Winter spotted her and Willow limping into view.

“What happened to them?” She was concerned,

“We- uh, heh-heh . . . we kinda had a little fun on the way?” Ruby chuckled, abashed,

“Fun?” Winter raised an eyebrow, “You two? Together?”

“Well yes, my dear,” Willow smiled, “Jaune was quite good to us both.”

Winter’s forehead wrinkled somewhat, she looked stern.

“But mother~,” She almost whined in a petulant way, “I thought we agreed I’d be the first to do it!”

Weiss’ eyes nearly fell out of her head.

‘Nora hadn’t lied?!’ She realised.

“I’m sorry, Winter.” Willow apologised earnestly, “But we both know he’s just what we need.”

Winter pouted uncharacteristically.

“. . . Fine.” She sighed, then turned to Jaune, “In that case, I have a favour to ask.”

“Uhh . . . yes, Ma’am?” He looked a little nervous,

“I’ll be needing you, your friend in green, and Specialist Amin.” Winter said firmly, “In the van after we load it up.”

“Oh.” Blake was stunned,

“. . . Uuuuhhhh . . .” Yang had no words,

“All three-?!” If Weiss’ jaw hadn’t dropped before, it’d have fallen from the cliff when she heard Winter say that.

Ruby had jumped back into the van to help Marrow and Nora load it up, so she hadn’t heard anything. Neither Yang nor Blake nor Oscar could believe it themselves, there was so much going on!

Since when was Jaune so good with cold women?

Jaune had nothing to say himself, he just gulped; once again, he could feel Weiss’ angry eyes boring holes into him. Ren was nervous too, the look in Winter’s eyes was a hungry one, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Altogether, they’ll suit my purposes.” Winter stated, matter-of-factly, “We still have approximately thirty minutes before our scheduled departure time.”

“Um, I- I don’t think my girlfriend would-” Ren tried, blushing brighter than anyone thought was possible,

“How much are you willing to offer?” Nora had bounded over before anyone noticed, she had heard everything.

Both Willow and Winter smirked.

“How ever much you’d like.” They said together.

Nora’s eyes lit up and sparkled like fireworks.

“YOU GOTTA DEAL!” And with both hands, she shook Winter and Willow’s, and then she turned to her teammates, “ALRIGHTY BWOIS, GET IN THERE!”

And reeling her hands back, she slapped their backsides harder than intended. Jaune and Ren yelped and stared in utter disbelief as Nora, unabashed as ever, ran back to the hull of the airship.

“HEY, BISCUIT-BREATH!” She hollered at Marrow, “GET YOUR TAIL DOWN HERE, MISS WINTER’S ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!”

How could it have gone so far?

“Jaune?” Ren gulped, “I’m both scared and aroused . . . what do I do?”

Jaune just shook his head.

“I’unno, dude.” He sighed, “Let’s just get it going . . .”

And cracking his neck, Jaune made his way over to the hull. Ren quietly followed him. Winter kept on smirking and led them on, swaying her hips as she went.

Willow gazed proudly at them all.

“That’s my eldest.” She smiled, then she had a thought, “Do you know? I think I’ll go watch them.”

And with that, Willow headed for the airship as well.

Everyone who remained outside couldn’t help staring as Marrow dropped down from a higher level and clambered excitedly into the van.

Yang ventured over to where Weiss was standing.

“Uhh . . . Weissy?” She asked carefully, “Are you okay?”

Weiss didn’t answer.

“Weiss?” Yang tried again.

Still nothing happened.

“I think we need to give her some time.” Blake patted her shoulder, “I don’t know how I’d take it if my mother wanted to have um, relations, with Jaune of all people.”

Yang agreed. It would be a very jarring moment.

Although Yang would also admit, she knew she would be very angry if she found out Raven wanted to spend time with Jaune like that. And Gods forbid if Summer were still around!

She wouldn't excuse it, no matter how much he looked like her father.

“We should get on board.” Said Oscar, “We’re still escaping.”

Yang and Blake nodded at each other, and scooping up Weiss, they scrambled up the ramp and entered the airship. As they did, Oscar thought of something.

“Hey, where’d Ruby go?” He asked.

Yang and Blake looked around. Sure enough, Ruby was nowhere to be seen. Then Blake remembered.

“Wasn’t she helping load the van?” She pointed out,

“Yeah!” Yang snapped her fingers, “So she has to be in the-”

She stopped short.

“I remember seeing her get in the van, but I don’t remember seeing her get out . . .” Blake pointed out.

Yang stood stock-still for a moment.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!” She shrieked at last.

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howlingday · 7 months

Text

Belladina Castle

Phone: (Rings)

Blake: (Grabs it) Belladina residence!

Jaune: ...

Penny: ...

Blake: ...I see. Thank you. (Hangs up)

POP!

Belladinas: WE DID IT~!

Jaune: This is so great! I'm proud of you, Penny!

Blake: Hold on. This was all of us working together. You deserve credit, too.

Sun: Hey, hey, hey! I heard lil' Penny got in!

Blake: Word spreads fast on the balcony, doesn't it?

Sun: Eh. I was in the neighborhood. Besides, I already know everything. (Climbs inside) And you must be Mr. Belladina! Nice to finally meetcha! I'm Blake's buddy, Sun!

Jaune: Oh! Nice to meet you, too, uh, Sun.

Penny: Mr. Banana!

Sun: C'mon! Let's party! I already ordered food and booze!

Blake: (Thinking) This guy...

---------------------------------------------------

Sun: An it's all thanks tuh me, swipin those test anzerrs!

Blake: (Whispering) They can hear you, you idiot!

Penny: (Picking at her food)

Jaune: (Drunk) Huh? Whattaya mean?

Sun: You're the only adult one not drinking, Misses Killjoy...

Blake: I am. I'm just trained to not become an imbecile while doing it.

Sun: Huh? Howzat work?

Sun: Still, you did a great job, Penny! Bet yer Mommy's so happy, she'd buy you anything you wanted!

Penny: Really~?!

Blake: D-Don't tell her that!

Penny: Well, I don't wanna get anything, but I do wanna do something!

Blake: Well... so long as it's within reason, I guess...

Penny: (Points at TV) That! I wanna do that!

Blake: ...And what exactly is "that"?

Penny: I wanna be rescued by a hero in a castle!

Blake: Absolutely not.

Penny: (Sniffles)

Sun: "How could you?! And after I worked so hard to get into school~!"

Blake: Don't speak for her!

Sun: (Leans in) Hey, Blake. There's a castle not too far from here. You can rent it out for 2,000 Lien a day. The governments ain't got eyes or ears out there, so you could really let loose!

Sun: I mean, Penny DID work really hard to get in. It wouldn't kill ya to throw her a bone, would it?

Penny: (Sniffles)

Blake: ...

---------------------------------------------------

Penny: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW~! It's a real castle~!

Jaune: I... Isn't thith- (Hiccups) lovely?

Penny: ...

Blake: What's wrong?

Penny: There's no one here. No bad guys, or servants. It's not right.

Blake: That wasn't part of the deal.

Penny: (Sniffles) I-I don't think I can go to school anymore...

Sun: (Patting her back) There, there, Penny...

Blake: (Groans)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALL UNITS STATIONED IN VALE, REPLY

"REPORT TO VYTAL CASTLE IMMEDIATELY"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Penny: There's so many people~!

Sun: See? Just took a little nudge from the agency, right?

Neon: (Thinking) Oh my gosh! That's Agent Nightshade!.

Marrow: (Thinking) In the flesh!.

Yatsuhashi: (Thinking) Maybe I can get her autograph?.

Blake: Okay, now what?

Penny: Let's see... (Points to Blake) Hero! (Points to Sun) Villain! (Points to Jaune) Um... Whatever!

Jaune: Huh?!

Penny: (Behind a table) Save me, Blakeadina!

Sun: OH HO HO HO! I'm surprised you've come this far, Blakeadina, but you'll never make it past my demon servant and the princess will be mine!

Blake: Are you actually playing along with this?! (Thinking) Do I really have to humiliate myself in front of all these people?!. But... But if this is what it takes to get her to go to school.

Neon: Look!

Yatsuhashi: A chance to see Nightshade in action!

Blake: Y- You better give me the princess.

Sun: Did you really think it would be so easy? GO, MY DEMONIC KNIGHT, JAUNATHAN!

Blake: Demonic knight?! There's demons in this story- (Barely dodges a whirling cross)

Jaune: Anyone who tries to take my precious Penny away from me...

Jaune: WILL DIE BY MY HANDS.

Blake: Dammit! What's gotten into him?! He told me his sister taught him boxing, but I've never seen moves as ferocious as these!.

Jaune: (Swings a kick)

Blake: HE'LL KILL ME!.

Jaune: (Slips, Falls, Groans, Falls asleep)

Blake: A... Are you okay?

Sun: Ha ha! Most impressive, Blakeadina, but you're no match for-

THWACK!

Blake: (Walks past Sun on the floor, Panting) Are... Are you unharmed, Princess Penny?

Penny: (Awed, Hugs her) MAMA~!

Blake: Mama? That breaks continuity. (Crowds applaud) What is going on?

Penny: Everything has been so much fun since I left the orphanage with you, Mama! I'm going to work really, really, really hard at school!

Blake: Oh? Well, then let me just say, "Congratulations, Penny".

**********************************************

Winter: S-Sir! You need to see this expenses report from Agent Nightshade!

#rwby #spy x family #rwby au #blake belladonna #jaune arc #penny polendina #sun wukong #knightshade #winter schnee #neon katt #yatsuhashi daichi #marrow amin

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smh0217 · 2 years

Text

Marrow: What if the voice inside your

head is your soulmate's?

Winter (Her soulmate is Qrow): then my soulmate's a fucking asshole.

Jaune (His soulmate is Neo): I think my soulmate is a serial killer…

#RWBY #Jaune Arc #Neopolitan #Winter Schnee #Qrow Branwen #Marrow Amin #RWBY Silent Knight #Jaune Arc x Neopolitan #Neopolitan x Jaune Arc #RWBY Snow Bird #Winter Schnee x Qrow Branwen #Qrow Branwen x Winter Schnee #source: Instagram #incorrect rwby quotes

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robynsscarf · 1 year

Text

Marrow: Robyn can't be good at everything. Maybe she's a bad kisser

Winter: no, she's good at that too

Marrow: what!?

Winter: what?

#winter schnee #robyn hill #robyn x winter #schneewood forest #rwby #marrow amin

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misterlazer · 1 year

Text

They're Bad at Hiding It

Winter: Marrow, Jaune. Nice of you to join us this morning.

Marrow: Good morning!

Jaune: Morning!

Winter: You two seem to be in high spirits. Did something special happen last night?

Jaune: Oh, nothing much. Just slept well.

Harriet: Really? It wouldn't have anything to do with you sneaking into Marrow's room, would it?

Jaune & Marrow's faces began to turn pink

Marrow: Wha-? He didn't-

Yang: Or the fact that you two are holding hands?

Their hands quickly let go. The pink shade on their faces deepened.

Jaune: T-that was an accident! Really!

Blake: And what about those marks on your necks?

The blushes became red

Marrow: Just a rash!

Winter: Oh, I'm sure~

Jaune: Seriously! It's all nothing!

Marrow: Yeah, you guys are just looking into things too much!

Elm: Haha, well, if you say so. And Marrow…

Marrow: Yeah?

Elm: You never told us you can howl~

#rwby #winter schnee #marrow amin #jaune arc #harriet bree #yang xiao long #blake belladona #elm ederne #guard dogs #jaune x marrow #rwby guard dogs

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arc-misadventures · 2 years

Note

Is Ozpin's surprised by Dwarf Jaune making his own kingdom or is this normal Arc behaviour in they are all born to lead

The Cost of a Crown

Ironwood: Ozpin, we have a situation!

James Ironwood burst into, Ozpin’s office to be met with piles of paper strewed all about his office. Bag, cups, and mugs of coffee were laying about amongst them. And, at a desk covered by both coffee, and paper, a pile of spent pens lay about it. All the while a mad man signed his name again, and again on one piece of paper after the other.

Ironwood: Ozpin?

Ozpin: Leave the papers on the desk… I’ll sign them when I get to them…

Ozpin pay no attention to who was in the room, and just focused on signing whatever was before him.

Ironwood: Ozpin!

James grabbed, Ozpin by the shoulders, shaking him out of his paper signing trance.

Ozpin: Huw…? Oh, Hi, James! H-How is it going…?

Ironwood: Not good, but no where near as bad as you. You look like hell; what happened here? You’re signing blank pieces of paper?

Ozpin: What…? Oh gods I am… Ugh… The hell am I doing…?

Ironwood: W-What’s going on, Ozpin?

Ozpin: Arc… Arc, happened…

Ironwood: Arc? As in, Jaune Arc? The King of the Kingdom Lunaris?

Ozpin: Yes, that short little toadstool of a Huntsman! I sent him on a mission along with his team, and another team to protect a small village, and the dust mine on the outskirts of the village. It was a simple routine mission, perfect for a bunch of first years. But, we received no reports from them in days! Fearing the worst I sent, Glynda along with a third year team to go find them. The third year team returned a day letter with this?!

Ozpin then forced an envelope into, James hand as he broke down on his desk. As he held his head in his hands as he silently plead with the gods that be at what he could have possibly done to deserve this. This time.

James stared at his friend for a moment before deciding he best read the letter contained within.

Ironwood: “Dear Ozpin, I am writing this letter to inform you that as of now, I am tending in my resignation as Deputy Headmistress, and Combat Instructor effectively immediately…” Wait, this is, Glynda’s hand writing?! Did, Glynda quit?! W-Why would she do that?!

Ozpin: Keep reading…

Ironwood: “I have taken up the position as the new, Headmistress of the Lunaris Hunter Academy?!” They have a Hunter Academy now?!

Ozpin: Yep… I lost a third of my students to them in three days… I heard, Mantle’s been having similar problems as well…

Ironwood: “I accept this position as the first Headmistress of the Lunaris Hunter Academy at the behest of, Jaune Arc the Engraver, King of Lunaris.” The Engraver, what kind of nickname is that?

Ozpin: I believe it’s more of a title, at least that’s what, Oobaleck thinks. Probably something to do with him engraving the history, the rise of, something to do with him building his damn kingdom…

Ironwood: “As such I will be leaving my position at, Beacon for green pastures as they say.” So she quit for a better job opportunity? That doesn’t seem like something, Glynda would do.

Ozpin: It isn’t… But, the next part will also explain why she’s quitting…

Ironwood: This better be good then… “I will also be becoming his Highness Jaune Arc’s first bride, and become the High Queen of Lunaris?!” She’s getting married to that, Arc bastard?! How the hell did this happen?! She’s at least a decade older than him!

Ozpin: Glynda has had a thing for, Mr. Arc since he first arrived here. Apparently it was because of the power, and persona his small stature seemingly emanated from him. As well as his noble, and courteous gentleman like behaviour that she found quite attractive. At least that’s what, Port said…

Ironwood: “I will send you official wedding invitations as soon as the wedding date has been set in stone.” Please tell me that’s not some sort of joke.

Ozpin: Best not to think about it…

Ironwood: “Sincerely, Glynda Goodwitch. Headmistress of the Hunter Academy of Lunaris.” T-The hell is all of this?!

Ozpin: Hell itself my friend! As soon as I received that letter I’ve been trapped here at my desk for days. Signing, and filling out document, after document! I curse, Arc for doing this to me! If I had know this was going to happen, I would have never sent him away that day! But, here we fucking are! Up a sewer line, without a boat!

Ironwood: You didn’t expect this to happen?

Ozpin: Who the hell would expect this to happen? That short little stunted dwarf goes for a routine mission, next thing I know, in a matter of weeks he’s built a kingdom that rivals, Atlas, both in its economy, and military power!

Ironwood: He’s what?!

Ozpin: Y-You didn’t know? Oh… You’re going to be in for a rude awakening…

Ironwood: What are you…?! Hold on, I’m getting a scroll call.

Ozpin: This should be good…

As, Ozpin drank from his mug, he watched intently as, James pulled out his scroll, and answered a call he would have never expected before this day.

Ironwood: Specialist Clover, what is it?

Clover: Sir, I need to deliver a report on our trip to the, Kingdom of Lunaris.

Ironwood: Already, what happened?

Clover: We were attacked as soon as we reach the cities gate by the, Lunarians. They overwhelmed us in minutes, taking us as hostage, and brought us before the, King.

Ironwood: How is that possible? They should barely have a mock militia, how could they beat of team of highly trained, Hunters?

Clover: Those reports are outdated, Sir. They have a military force on par with us.

Ironwood: How is that possible?

Clover: Unknown, Sir.

Ironwood: I take it we won’t be getting access to their, Dust supplies then?

Clover: Not likely, Sir; They have a strong anti-Atlas, and anti-SDC bias amongst the people here.

Ironwood: Haa… The, Atlas council is going to love this. I’m going to be having, Jacques Schnee screaming down my neck for this.

Clover: Speaking of the, Schnee’s, Sir. We’ve had some… interesting developments.

Ironwood: What kind of developments?

Clover: Well, the King of Lunaris has made several threats to, and about the SDC. And, is witnessed to have said, and I quote: ‘I’ll take, Jacques wife, and show him how a real man fucks.’ End quote.

Ironwood: Well, Specialist Schnee must have loved hearing that.

Clover: Yeah… Uhhh… Sir, Specialist Schnee… has resigned her commission with the Atlasian Military…

Ironwood: SHE WHAT?!

Clover: Apparently as soon as she saw, King Arc, and his glorious beard… She dropped to her knees, and pledged her life to him. Hoping to improve relations between, Atlas, Mantle, and the SDC. Specialist Ederne has also resigned for similar reasons.

Ozpin: The, Arc charm strikes again…

Ironwood: You’ve got to be kidding me! I lost two, Specialists just because they looked at a man?!

Clover: And, his most glorious beard…

Ironwood: Haaaa… Is there anything that can be done to bring them back?

Clover: Not unless you convince her to leave yourself, Sir. There isn’t anything else I think we can do, Sir.

Ironwood: Understood, Specialist. Take what’s left of your team, and return to, Atlas. You’ll be debrief further on your return.

Clover: Very well, Sir.

James soon ended the call as he cusped his head in his hands, tiredly groaning as he took in all of this new information.

Ozpin: So… What are you going to do now?

Ironwood: …

Ironwood: Get drunk?

Ozpin: Good idea.

#rwby #jaune arc #glynda goodwitch #winter schnee #elm ederne #clover ebi #marrow amin #james ironwood #rwby ozpin #jaune x glynda #glynda x jaune #elm x jaune #jaune x elm #rwby winterknight #rwby arcwitch #peter port #bartholomew oobleck #willow schnee #jacques schnee

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bonez-yard · 2 years

Text

Time to hop onto this train-

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chososdiscordkitten · 2 months

Text

Ex-Husband Gojo

artist: yunonoai on twt

Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)

(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>

MDNI

You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him.

But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.

The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips.

Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged.

The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world.

Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.

Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy.

It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for.

That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?

“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved.

You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child.

The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.

Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job.

Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to.

The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present.

And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind.

But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.

And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands.

Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have.

He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him.

Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit.

Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers.

It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again.

You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time.

But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave.

You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.

But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father.

When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.

Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip.

Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father.

In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.

Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life.

9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs.

Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.

Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.

Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear.

The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.

And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.

“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening.

There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son.

Ex-Husband.

That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.

You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?

But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true.

You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child.

So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.”

Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him.

He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening.

And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest.

You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting.

And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing.

Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats.

“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon.

You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave.

While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.

You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.

All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered.

But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand.

As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.

He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.

Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance.

He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup.

Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before.

He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper.

Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand.

So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek.

“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you.

So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes.

As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.

“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock.

“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror.

“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.”

Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.

“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.

“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.”

He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression.

“Just a parent from his school.”

Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten.

In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting.

“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin.

“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t.

With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink.

You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore.

Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you.

Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes.

“I’m here whenever you need me,”

Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface.

Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes.

Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay.

Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~”

And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off.

After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom.

You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you.

Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips.

“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.

Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs.

“For what?” looking at him adoringly.

Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you.

“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him.

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember.

You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his.

Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry.

Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back.

Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.

Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back.

You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again.

Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast.

Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this.

Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his.

And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.

Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his.

His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips.

Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you.

Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right.

His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy.

Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man.

Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.

Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats.

“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further.

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter.

Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall.

“Tell the truth.”

You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.”

As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper.

“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be.

Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out.

But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.

No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his.

So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were.

Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place.

The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long.

Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth.

Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time.

Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission.

You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten.

“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently.

Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone?

All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers.

Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core-

Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it.

He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs.

Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine.

Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him.

He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips.

The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for.

His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.

“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest.

You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance.

A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you.

Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours.

The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to.

Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his.

A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips.

Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you.

A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back.

Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled.

Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband.

Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust.

“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind.

Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs.

Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content.

Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.

Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm.

“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering.

Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.

Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned. “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill.

Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone.

Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth.

Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give.

And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did.

With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again.

A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you.

So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you.

Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum.

Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected.

A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring.

And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing.

Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air.

All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit.

Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you.

Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails.

Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue.

Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you.

And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could.

Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission.

Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend.

Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips.

You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile.

Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit.

You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill.

Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds.

Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines.

He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming.

It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp.

Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips.

He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath.

Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway.

He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours.

You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven.

It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house.

Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.

Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later.

“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest.

He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes.

“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.”

Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed.

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning.

He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?”

Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.”

Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”

“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”

Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation.

“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face.

Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but- “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off.

You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt.

Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”

“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water.

Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears.

“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp.

You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”

Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight.

“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.”

Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.”

You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”

A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours.

“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned.

You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you.

Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered.

It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic.

The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out.

The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister.

All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.

And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.

But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?

I loved writing this sm.

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 8 all chapters

-Your birthday falls on a beautiful spring day, and of course, you have to work. When a new customer growls into the parking lot on a shiny black motorcycle everyone crowds behind the counter to see who it could be.

It takes so little to entertain all of you, sometimes.

The boys titter excitedly about the sweet bike and torque and ccs, whatever that means.

When the rider takes off his helmet there’s a fall of fabulous dark hair, and something inside you utterly purrs at the sight.

It’s Mr. Wick.

Maybe you should have known. His padded motorcycle jacket makes his shoulders seem impossibly broad, and as he crosses the parking lot on long legs you hear Cassie sigh behind you.

Same, girl, same.

Cassie had made you a little birthday crown to wear out of a to go cup, a la Princess Peach. You forget about the silly adornment clipped to your head, until Mr. Wick approaches the counter to make his order.

“One coffee…your Highness?” He lifts one of those dark brows with a small smirk, and fuck if it doesn't make you blush.

“It's my birthday,” you sheepishly tell him. His expression actually softens.

“Happy Birthday, then.”

“Thanks.”

“Not fair you have to work today.”

You shrug. “No rest for the wicked.”

This makes him smile a little wider, and you feel that’s a good present for today.

“Hopefully you have something fun planned for later?”

Is he fishing, or just making conversation? You can never tell with this man.

“Not really,” you admit with a shrug.

Your parents are divorced and remarried, living far away from you in their new lives, with their new families. You know they’ll call you later, when they remember you. You’ll have an awkward little conversation that will only serve to grind up your heart into smaller pieces, rather than lift your spirits like its meant to.

Your friends are busy too. One, with her new baby who never has time for you anymore, and you totally understand (and endorse) her priorities, even if it still hurts. The other’s work schedule is exactly the opposite of yours, and you never manage to hang out anymore.

Maybe you’ll go to the thrift store after you get off work, or treat yourself to an ice cream. Nothing too extravagant. You’re saving every penny you can for your upcoming trip.

“Well, maybe something will come up.”

It’s a nice thought.

You make him his usual coffee order, and don’t think much about it the rest of the day. This warm spring day has everyone out and about, stir crazy after the thaw, and you were running full speed from open to the end of your shift. For some incongruous reason, people were extra rude too, and as the clock strikes 2 you are at the end of your rope, your smile more closely resembling a baring of teeth.

Your whole body hurts, and you think you are too exhausted to do anything fun for yourself, until you go to your car in the lot behind the brick building to find Mr. Wick—and his motorcycle—parked next to your old Rav4. He looks utterly scrumptious, if you’re being honest, those legs going on forever as he leans against the seat of his bike. His hair is waving down around his face as he browses something on his phone to pass the time.

Good on you, for only pausing for a moment to ogle him.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You look between him and the bike with your lip between your teeth, wondering what he’s doing, your treacherous heart fluttering in your chest.

“I thought…it might be fun to go for a ride? If you want.”

You cannot suppress a wide smile, touched to the marrow that he thought of you on your special day. “That does sound like fun,” you admit, and not just because the thought of sitting behind him on a bike makes you a little weak in the knees. The sunshine that day truly feels like a gift from the gods after such a harsh winter. “But…”

He tilts his head inquisitively.

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

He shakes his head, a lock of his dark hair falling over his eyes, and your fingers physically ache to brush it away. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he assures you, and damn if that isn’t enough to convince you.

“Full disclosure: I’ve never actually been on a bike before?”

His smile is nothing less than gentle, and he could have pushed you over with a feather.

“All you have to do is hold on to me,” he assures you, and you think you lose your mind a little at that.

There is slightly more to it, he instructs you as you put on a helmet and he helps you clamber on behind him. He tells you to lean slightly with him into the turns, but not too much. The bike grumbles like a fire-breathing beast beneath you as he starts it up.

The feeling of his slim hips and taut backside between your thighs crosses some wires in your brain.

He takes you to the winding backroads of the countryside and up the mountain. You feel like you’re flying, snaking through the curves on this powerful machine, with a man you find you trust implicitly at the controls.

You laugh out loud more than once.

At a straightaway he asks through the helmet mic, “Want to see what she can do?”

“Sure,” you answer, even though you can’t imagine what more this beautiful bike could offer.

“Lean into me, and hold on.” You obey, looping arms around his trim waist, plastered to his backside as he hunkers down for aerodynamics. You were already going fast, but when he shifts a gear you take off like a shot.

A sane person would have screamed, but all you can do is laugh.

This is the purest joy you’ve felt in longer than you can remember.

John pulls over at a scenic overlook, parking the bike so you can have a little break. You sit together on a picnic table, looking over the valley below. A stream snakes through it like a silver ribbon, shimmering in the sunlight. You sigh and lean back on your arms, lifting your face to the sun.

This has turned out to be a perfect day. John smiles a little as he looks over at you, but says nothing, just lets you soak it in.

“Thank you for this,” you finally say. “I was having such a shitty day.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sit up and rub at your neck. You have an unrelenting ache in the muscle over your left shoulder blade. It never really goes away, but its definitely worse after a long day on your feet bending over coffee.

John looks worried, bless him. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. I just…have this thing. I think there’s a demon living in my shoulder.”

After a pensive moment he lifts his hands in offering, moving very slowly as though he might spook you. His hands are…beautiful. Large, long fingered, calloused too. You wonder what he does, when he’s not sitting in the coffee shop or binding books. The thought of them on your body gives you a forbidden little thrill.

You do not even consider the missing digit, until he looks at his left hand and frowns, closing it to hide it at his side. “Sorry. I still forget…”

But you take his hand in yours, inspecting it closely for the first time. He allows it, though there is something vulnerable in his eyes as you do. The healed skin almost looks jagged, like it wasn’t severed with a clean cut or a surgical blade. You feel the urge to press your lips to it, as though you could kiss it better, but you just rub your thumb over the fine dark hairs there.

“What happened?”

“Someone…” He cuts himself off with a frustrated sound. “I had an accident.”

You sense there’s much more to the story, but you don’t press him yet.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes, I get the phantom aches. Mostly it’s fine though.”

You nod and angle your back to him, placing his hand on your shoulder as you shoot him a pointed look, granting him permission to touch you. His sigh is almost imperceptible, but you sit up a little straighter as he squeezes your shoulder lightly. You get the slightest taste of the strength in those hands, yet you know he could rip you to pieces if he chose to.

He slays you in a different way, knowing exactly how to use them on your sore muscles, and you can’t help but moan as he squeezes the kinks out of your shoulders. For a second he freezes at the sound, before continuing to work his magic.

“God…that feels so good.” You’ve been in pain for so long that it’s damn near better than sex.

Maybe it’s been too long for that too, though.

“You are a mess.” You know him well enough now to know he’s frowning as he says this. He kills a knot with the well-placed blade of his thumb. You feel it release and you jump a little. Though it doesn’t really hurt you, you’re not sure why there is suddenly moisture in your eyes.

It’s been a long time since anyone’s taken care of you like this, you suppose.

“Job hazard,” you sigh.

“Do you ever do yoga?”

You laugh a little at that for some reason. “I used to practice, when I was younger.” It kind of fell by the wayside. You’re always so tired when you get home.

“Well, stretching is good for you, as you age. Take it from an old man. It helps.”

“You’re not old,” you immediately protest.

“Nice to know I still have some curb appeal.” His words are laden with sarcasm, and yet you can tell he is pleased.

He finishes the massage with a lighter touch, to stimulate blood flow, that gives you delicious chills all over. Your shoulders are your kryptonite, and you are putty in his hands. You look back at him from beneath your lashes, curious what exactly it is the two of you are doing here. Does he like you, or is he just being impossibly nice?

He doesn’t avoid your gaze, but you find you can’t read him, not one bit.

“Want to get something to eat?” he asks.

It is almost dinner time. “Okay.”

You’re a little sad as you ride back down the mountain towards town. But he pulls up to the local diner, and you have sinfully greasy cheeseburgers and shakes. Despite your protests he pays, because: “No one should have to pay for their birthday dinner.”

You know he’s fucking loaded, so you let him have his way.

“This is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time,” you admit, munching on a fry. “Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

You know he’s told you to call him John before, but fuck if you haven’t noticed how his eyes darken just a little when you call him Mr. Wick, or even just Sir at the coffeeshop. You feel like you stumbled onto something you don’t entirely understand, but it fills you with a forbidden warmth all the same.

He gives you a hooded look from across the table, and you fancy he knows that you know what you’re doing.

“My pleasure, y/n.”

He doesn’t insist that you call him John again.

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine #i miss my bike lol

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cherubispunk · 5 months

Text

CHERUB (PART II) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: you will forever be his fallen angel. his cherub.

a note from Lucy: IT IS TIME! Now, I KNOWWWW i said that there woud be dp with tommy in part two...but that can wait until part three because this is just as disgusting as the last one hehehehe! Enjoy sinners, i'm off to bed. This is also unedited to just ignore any typos. I promise I’ll get round to reading it through later today. X

playlist | alternate banner by THE cherub @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

wc: 4088 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, porn with little plot, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his late 50s), Smut, car sex, very dubcon in theory but both parties want it, smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl), oral - m reeiving, handjobs, Creampie, choking, orgasm denial, slapping, dom!Joel:/sub!reader dynamic, gagging , mentions of gagging with panties, panty sniffing, nipple play, biting, Smoking, use of pet names (baby, cherub, angel, good girl...etc), Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile porn I have written thus far...with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, a circle lower than the last. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

Lace. Pretty. Delicate and intricate.

Torn and tossed to grimy carpet. His trailer, his bed. Laying in his large warm arms for no more than a brief moment of afterglow. Then observed by his hawk eye while you were strewn naked about his sheets in a divine headrush of oxytocin, endorphins. And numb to all but the ghostly ache of pleasure within your belly.

Truth can be ugly. It can beat and maim even the strongest of heart and half of soul. It can dampen spirits, bash, batter and bruise a hope so bright to such a degree it is nothing but a mere flickering flame, awaiting its snuffing out from a final exhale of a familiar broken heart. It can go pummeling, plundering and pillaging a love you held so tightly to your chest, that once was so dear to one’s self, the mere idea of letting it slip through your fingers would bring on an agonising loneliness even death's pain could not compete or match with.

One night later was your time to face truth, the world fell dark again. The rain had subsided back to choking heat, summer’s final scorch before biting winter rolled in, icy and frostbitten on its heels. You were catatonic in bed from that day forward. Contemplated the end of it all. Then got up for work again when the sun peeked over aluminium trailer rooftops. All of this…just come back to your own bed again.

You belong to the ground now. Your purple knees might as well be caked in dirt. Each of your hairs stood on end in protest to your shivers, vexatious and unforgiving. And choked sobs suffocated you, face red, raw, puffy and salty. Everything seemed to hurt. The sound of humanity seemed so far away from you now. Even the crackling of TV static in the next room over. Nothing felt quite real. It was just…dull. Exhaustion ached in your bones, sinking in deeper - bone marrow level deeper - after twenty-four hours of little to no rest. You bit down on your bottom lip and scrunched your eyes closed as your fingers and toes curled in and you writhed in emotional pain inside yourself. Physically you were still. A weight had pressed itself into your chest, digging at you and carving a hole through your sternum. Your teeth were now gritted as you let out strained whimpers muffled by the pillow. Desperate for some form of relief, you were clasping at your upper arms, clawing your flesh until red lines rose

No one knew. No one could know. they did not have to carry the idea that someone, who roamed the halls of your mind peacefully, passively, vacantly, now rampaged through those same corridors with an iron fist and a burning torch, setting you alight, leaving breadcrumb trails for ravens to pick at and fragments such as that of sharp, cutting mirror glass for you to piece together with no map or original picture but your own memory. You tumbled, spiralling into a world of ‘was it this?’ or ‘was it that?’. And the line between each question soon grew thinner, smearing together like streaks of sunlight smudging in tears.

—

It was a slow roll of a shift. No one but the regulars on a quiet Monday morning. The bikers who stop for coffee. The business man here for the Bessy's Diner ‘premium’ breakfast before his day starts. Greasy and warm but with the crispy potatoes. Eggs sunny side up on two slices of golden brown white bloomer bread. The smell stuck in your hair.

You watched through the window as the world turned dark under bruising night sky. His name on your tongue at the back of your teeth. His handprint on your thigh under your yellow polyester skirt. It was the branding of him on you in the most achingly beautiful way you could imagine. You might not be bent in half any more but in your mind you are replaying each thrust that edged you over the side of harrowing oblivion. You were in his bed. Right there. You could almost feel him.

The ding of the pass bell made you blink once, twice, thrice, with a sharp inhale through your nose while you tuned in a daze to collect a cheeseburger and curly fries. You weren't much to look at by your standards – grease stains on your uniform, scuffed shoes and bruised knees; But the man you delivered the meal too had you for his appetiser. Eyeing you like a juicy cut of rump steak, plump and tender to sink one's teeth into. Your nostrils flared and you couldn't help but wonder what Joel would think of his roaming eyes as you gave the trucker a curt but saccharine ‘Enjoy!’ through gritted teeth.

Then it was back to staring out the window while more coffee brewed and the sky sunk deep blue, a rim of purple at the horizon. Like it had been beaten and left by the sun. Clouds murking the sky above like dried blots of ink. A heavy downpour to come and you hadn't bought your coat or umbrella. Headlights beamed through the window in the blue, sailing over your eyes and the wall behind you, making you strain and squint at the familiar number plate.

That very truck had been parked in the middle of your trailer and his. Taunted you now whenever you saw it. Reminded you that he had not come calling since a few nights ago. How long was it now? A week of no contact that made you claw at your skin and the marrow of your very bones ache with the pain as they hollowed out. Waiting for him to fill that place in you again with a sense of being needed. The place only he knew how to reach. It was pathetic and you knew it. But, oh, how you'd fall to your knees in the dirt each time to just see him. To have him call you Cherub. It felt like a dream no one would get to see or feel but you and him. A secret whisper of delight that had a pending knot of tension tighten and twist in your gut. Then a flutter when his truck door opened to reveal him in his usual wife beater tank and dirty denim combo. This time a leather jacket straining over his broad shoulders. Your mouth watered at the sight of his bulge. How, when he stood with the devils own smirk at the sight of you through the window, arm slung over the top of the drivers door, the tank rode up to give a tease of happy trail on his softer tummy. He was a man who could ruin you with a look; Have you pleading to be his anything.

He licked his lips at the promise of his meal. You. All you could do was stand with feet planted firmly to the floor in your frilly hemmed socks and patent mary janes. His picture of innocence dressed in a ditsy diner uniform. His eyes were dark and lit only by the inside glow. They snared you in ways you often found hard to elucidate to yourself. But you'd be a liar if you refused to admit the excitement your gaze held his with. The beaming toothy grin you shone at him as he walked through the entrance. A chilly gust of wind hot on his chunky book clad heels.

“Be right with ya!” You called to him as you took the coffee from its hotplate, unable to keep yourself from smiling. He was here. You would once again be his. Whole.

A girl could dream. Oh she can dream up to the clouds and pass the very sun. But, lord above, how calamity hits like a stone to a dove’s wing. Causing the fall to earth and the fire to consume. This time, Icarus waited for the night. Who knew Selene would give the same backhand as Apollo.

“No need.” He cleared his throat, ambling over in his swagger to slump over the counter against the bar stool. “Lookin’ awful happy, Cherub.” There it was. It had your eyes glazing over in a haze. The first man who gave you a reason. An ability to serve and care and be wanted. “Just happy ‘cause I'm seein’ you.” You sighed. His arms crossed over themselves on the counter and there was Lucifers smile to lull you closer.

“That so?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah.” It was ineffable to explain, really. The temptation. But it was so damn perfect you couldn't get enough of it.

“What time you get off then, Cherub?”

“Ten.” You replied instantly. A heat warmed your core. A fizzle of something, a cramping of a dull pleasure spasm in your belly. From there he leaned over, breath tickling your ear as his scuff scratched the shell of it. Made your pulse thrum under your skin. He could feel your supple warmth, noticed how your pretty round chest hitched at the feel of his words in your ear. He ogled you like a hunter would his prey. His next feast.

“Y’think you can help me get off?”

If you had it your way you’d trace each scar, pale of almost rare silver, raised upon his skin. Gnarled. But so unmistakably beautiful it takes your breath away for a moment. Born again, the first breath you take. Learning how to inhale, familiarise yourself with how his chest rises, to then fall with tumble of the exhale. But this was on his terms. It would do. Ideally you'd do it your way. However, he wanted what he wanted. He took. You had so much more to give him if you were just gifted the miracle of opportunity. Jeopardising this love now would be a foolish idea.

“Yes, Joel.” You whispered, though it caught in your throat a little. Joel pulled back to eye you. Chuckling at the sight of your open wide doe eyes. A pretty helpless fawn for him to scrape off the road after being crushed by a truck. Or a bird whose wings needed patching. Little did you know he wasn't mending your wings. Merely plucking feathers from them until you could no longer glide through skies. Only be dragged by him across the ground on a leash. Rubbing flesh raw to the point of bleeding.

“Then i’ll be waitin’ here for ya, Cherub.”

—

He had his eyes on you the whole time. In his stare you saw each scene of what could be play out. What position he'd fix you in before the descent of his hips into yours. The slap of heavy balls against your ass. The ripple of your skin while a hand clapped down on one cheek, then the other. Rendering you useless for the rest of the night. Unable to walk without legs trembling. Poor pretty Bambi. Poor precious Cherub.

You could feel the heat of his eyes lick up the back of your neck. Flushing bright colour into the apples of your cheeks. Each time you passed him, a silent glance from you. A primal, phallic stare from him. Cogs in his mind turning to see what scenario would take his fancy. The look from other customers didn't fall short on his attention. He noticed the way that trucker had eyed you upon giving him the bill. Jealousy curled in his gut because how dare another man so much as think about touching what is rightfully his. What you were so eager to please with. The plush of your breasts, the encompassing warmth of your slick wet cunt. Joel would remember that when you stumble home, his come dribbling down your leg in a thick, gluttonous rivulet. You, so ready to flay yourself open at his word and present all to him. Your broken ribs and beating heart. The blood that bled in vain for him.

At the end of your shift he waited while you got you things from out back, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Thick fingers plucking one ready to light.

“Can't smoke in here, Joel.” You pointed out as his lighter hissed under the roll of his thumb.

“Then hurry up ‘n let me get you outta here, Cherub.” He mumbled, eyes trained on the cigarette between his lips. You admired how the yellow hue of the lighter washed him a glow in brief flashes. The scruff on his jaw lighter. Greyer. Handsomer.

“Okay.”

He led you out with a hand to your back. Hoisted your bike into the bed of his truck and you had to hold your breath at the swell of his muscles under his leather jacket. Its dark shine scuffed and worn down.

He drove you back downtown with the cigarette lit in his mouth to puff on, a hand on your clenching thigh, inching closer up to dangerous territory. He felt how you squirmed inside yourself. As if your bones were begging to be rattled by him. Until the highway bled off into smaller roads towards the trailer park where he opened the window to flick his smoke out and then shut it. You weren’t expecting him to pull over in a lay-by. The trees skeletal as leaves had started to fall here.

The engine sputtered before shutting off with the twist of the key. You found yourself staring at your skirt, picking a loose thread from the hem of it before his finger hooked under your chin. Just like the first time. Still smelling of tobacco and something mustier. Something human. It was hard to see in the dark, but his shadow said it all. It was carved out by the backdrop of trees outside the window. It made a rattling burst of desire dart down your spine and fill the hollow slowburn in your womb.

“Look at me.” So you did. And his finger grasped your chin, almost embedding his touch into your with trembling tingle were he to ever let go. Like a solder’s phantom limb.

“What are we doing here, Joel?” You asked, eyes innocent. Begging to be corrupted and crying.

“Gettin’ me off, Cherub.”

His lips crushed yours like seeds of pomegranate. Chapped and split. The metallic taste of his blood on your tongue. Your lungs breathed him, absorbed him. What noise he gave you, nonsensical as it was, it was a relief there was something. Something you could do. Part your thighs.

While one hand stayed fastened to your chin in its vice grip, his other palmed himself through his jeans. Hips rolling into the heel of his hand and a groan departed from his chest heavily. One you happily consumed with a needy inhale. Desperate to feel something of him inside you.

“Gonna make me feel good, ain’t you, Cherub? My pretty little thing.”

It was hard to nod in his grip. But you managed with the aiding of a whimpering “Mhm!”

“‘M gonna let you feel it.”

The bulge in his jeans was straining at denim and suffocating him. You felt blindly for his erection, fumbling with the belt, button and zipper. Joel smirked into your mouth while his tongue trialled sloppily over your bottom lip, enclosing it between the prison of his gnashers. Biting down hard. The friction of his beard was coarse against the dichotomy of your soft, supple skin.

“Yeah.” He sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat, detaching his lips from you. “Jus’ like that.” You swallowed. Aching to feel him. To have him as a part of you again. But for now you'd settle with the steady dragging stroke of his thick heavy cock in your hand.

You watched him with curiosity, the way his eyes fluttered closed. It was more the way a child would observe a butterfly trapped in a jar. Even though he was anything but delicate.

“Fuckin’ angel aint ya, Cherub?” He swallowed, hips twitching and bucking up into your hand while your thumb rolled over the sensitive head of his dick, smearing a bead of precum over the delicate flushed skin. You salivated like a rabid dog at the sight. The smell of his sex thick on your nose.

You felt the curl of this large hand at the crown of your skull before he pushed you down. Pulling you with him to hell’s heat once more.

“Suck it.”

And you did willingly; Took him into the warm cavern of your mouth, swirling your tongue over the flushed red tip to have the heady taste of him thick on your tastebuds. His hips stuttered, meaning you had to hollow out your mouth and relax your throat to take him as far as he wanted. The ache in your oesophagus burned, bruising deliciously. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, heavy and wet and dripping over the threshold of your eyes, streaking clumpy mascara down your face like an abstract painting for him to smirk at later. His fingers twisted in your hair like brambles through hedgerows. His hands were being laid on you. More like beckoning you closer to being laid to rest in the dirt. Ready for that little death his anatomy promised. The lust between you heated the car, fogging windows slightly.

As you went a little further, and little faster, nails digging into his jeans to ground yourself, you realised you’d never rather be anywhere than with him. Saliva running from your mouth down his shaft, collecting in a shine around the base and rolling over his tightening balls. He chuckled when you gagged, spluttering and heaving on him. Begging for more, you dared to ghost a single finger over your dripping slit. Cunt twitching at the attention. An action that was far from lost on him.

“Did I tell ya you could touch yerself?” He hissed, ripping you from his cock as the heat of an orgasm started to bubble in his lower belly. You spluttered a no, holding your hands up in surrender to him. “Little minx.” He sneered.

You yelped at the grip on your thighs as he kicked your legs out from under you, tugging your underwear from your heat in one swift yank. He held the cotton up to his nose, taking a deep inhale. “Fuckin’ filthy. Just imagine what your uncle would think ‘bout this? Ruining your fucking panties for me.” Shame flooded your gut, but the clench of your tight, drooling hole told you otherwise about disliking the thought. A heat warming your cheeks once more. “Oh, you like that dont you, Cherub?”

“Yeah.” You owned up to the fact. There was no point in lying. He’d fuck the truth out of you one way or another.

With your hands still raised, you watched in fucked out awe of his tonge that darted out to taste your slick on your underwear. His eyes closed as he savoured the tang on his tongue. There was no need to commit it to memory. If he wanted it again all he need do was ask. Your legs would part open, panties in his hand again.

“Taste like fuckin’ honey, Cherub. All sweet and sticky.” His voice verberated in your chest and his and had your eyes blurring in a split of a second. Crawling back once again to the memory in his trailer. “What do you think? Should I shove these in your mouth instead of my cock? Huh, Cherub?” You swallowed at the thought. “Nah…” He cast the thought aside, tossing them in the backseat. “I might just go easy on ya tonight.”

That was a short lived promise, for he was sliding back his seat as far as it would go, dragging you into his lap, thick head prodding the weeping entrance of your cunt. Waiting deliciously for the stretch of him. Whole again. Make me whole again. You begged to the ears of your own mind. Please!

“Sit down.” He demanded. And you obeyed; Notching him between the slick lips of your pussy. He hands found grounding purchase on your hips, grinding you along the underside of his thick length. Smearing your juices over himself. Each time the tip so much as grazed your clit it had you whimpering his name. Had your brain scrambling to form a coherent sentence. It was sinful Disgusting. But the way it felt was enough to cast a shadow on those doubts. Turn out the light, and set them to temporary sleep in your head.

The roll of your hips worked in tandem with the taboo buck of his thrusts. His neck strained and veins bulged under tight tension knotted, gnarled skin.

“This pussy’s made for this, ain't it, Cherub? Made for makin’ me feel good.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled while two thick fingers slipped into your mouth. The rough pads of them pressing into your tongue. You pressed your lips around them, taking his digits down to the last knuckle. His taste was rich in your mouth. One you'd never even dream of forgetting.

Your humping got faster, more erratic and less careful. Big. Mistake.

“Don’t go getting sloppy on me now, Cherub.”

You whined. It was all you were good for. All you could do. There was only so much finesse you could master with the steering wheel at your back, digging into your arching, aching spine. You waxed and waned over him in more careful movements now. Made sure to press down with each roll back over his shaft. All while he had an open mouthed trained gaze on the way his fingers slipped in and out of your mouth. Slow. Setting the pace for you to mimic. Lips puffy, saliva slick.

From there, it was your dress. Greedy and heavy hands popping the buttons of it open and stripping you down to nothing but flesh. It crumpled around your waist. His lips pursed while suckling your nipples into his mouth until they were pert and erect on his tongue. Teeth sinking into tender flesh, jaw unhinged as he took a bite of their swell and mimicked it on the other side.

It was so bad. So, so, so bad. If there truly was a god you’d be signed over to hell. But you didn't care, how could you when you felt the burn in your belly of your orgasm. The stars sputtering over the backs of your closed lids in a hypnotic kaleidoscope image. Either way, you were damned. Icarus to Apollo’s heat. His heat was burning. Scalding. Making a sheen of thick, damp sweat accumulate over your skin. Chest heaving into his mouth while your back arched and held tight like the string of a bow ready to release.

“Fuck– please, Joel. Wanna– fuck– come. Wanna come!” You whined around his fingers. To which he replied by ripping them from your mouth and striking a heavy hand over your cheek. The sting was thrilling. It made the apples of your cheeks tingle, begging him to do it again. Abuse you in any way he saw fit because the pleasure burning, building in your core had your cunt clenching. Ready to let go at his given word. He bared his teats at you while he smeared his tongue and spit over your tits.

“No. You come when I say and only when I say.”

And with those as his damning words, he lifted your hips off his, using a hand to line himself up with precision, spearing into you in one fowl swoop. You bit back a scream on your bottom lip from the intrusion. But before you could let the pain sink in it melted into brain fogging pleasure. You had to clench your walls around his thick length, his cock hot and pulsing within your cunt that spasmed with the promise to unwind. Had you a babbling crying mess in his lap while he jackhammered up into you. Balls slapping your spread cheeks.

His palm closed around your pulse, the other in your hair as you held yourself just above him on trembling legs so he could have the room to thirst upwards, swollen cockhead nipping your cervix vigorously like the last time. Whatever broken thing inside you that made you yearn for this could rattle around within of you. It was nothing unless it got you here to the sheer pleasure you felt when in his unforgiving arms. You’d go easily like this. Tear stained cheeks as you babbled his name nonsensically. All for him to keep up the relentless pace of his hips. The coarse hairs at the base of his cock adding a friction to your twitching clit that wasn't needed. You were already on edge. God, how you lived for the little death.

“Please, sir!” If anything else you did didn't set him off, that did. The words sweetened by the whine that curled from the back of your throat and dripped into his ears like fine wine. High pitched needy for him to finish you off. Deliver the killing blow.

The hand tangled in your hair jerked your head back, leaving your jaw to hang open and your eyes to roll back in your skull. Your toes curled in their frilly socks and shoes, the tingle turning to numbness and then to an overstimulated pain that you couldn't stave off any longer.

“Gonna come ain ya, Cherub? After I’ve been so fuckin’ nice to ya. Let ya touch me. Feel me inside of ya.” He pressed a hand over your womb, feeling the bulge of himself each time he fucked up to meet that perfect spot inside you. “Feel me fuckin’ wrecking this cunt for anyone else?” And you nodded stupidly, finding it hard to breathe with his other hand still at your neck. He could feel the quickening of your pulse under your flesh. “Words, Cherub.” He growled with heat into your pulse. “Or have I fucked you dumb, pretty girl?”

“Yes! Yes, Joel, I'm yours! Yours yours yours!”

“The fucking come. Show me.”

And finally, the closing scene to this act of sin. The little death you had been waiting for swelled within you, sending you falling from the stars in your eyes and back down to earth – crashing into the wall of his chest. A string of curses from his sneering lips and he released inside of you, balls tightening and dick twitching sheathed within you. His thick, hot come dribbled gluttonously from your quivering cunt. And you were twitching uncontrollably against him.

Your chests heaved out of sync with each other. Him out, you in. You accommodated the invading rise of his chest with the crushing and concaving of your own. His cock softened inside of you and in the mess he had made of you cunt. You were well and truly wrecked for anyone but him. Your body, no matter how much you may come to hate this fact in future, belongs to his pleasure.

You will forever be his fallen angel. His Cherub.

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