Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 78

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The dim glow of candlelight danced across the ornate table, casting long, shifting shadows across the parlor. A gentle silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft clink of porcelain as Winter carefully lifted her teacup to her lips. She sat at the edge of an antique armchair, the fabric of her uniform rustling with every small movement. She took a slow sip, the steam rising in delicate tendrils that curled toward the ceiling like faint whispers.

A silver tray sat on the table before her, laden with freshly baked biscuits, small sugar cubes, and a delicate porcelain creamer. The air in the room smelled faintly of honey and spices. She gently set the cup down, her fingers gliding over the fine china with practiced ease, her movements graceful and deliberate.

Then, she turned to her troublesome, silly fiancé.

For a man who had given General Ironwood no small amount of anxiety over his proposal to overturn the world order, he seemed remarkably content to be drinking tea and eating biscuits. She had little doubt that the cause of his happiness was her presence. She, too, was happy. After months of not seeing him, not touching him, and having him only through holograms, Winter was overjoyed to finally be with her lover again. A more fanciful part of her likened herself to a warrior princess finally returning home to her lord husband, though she would never admit such a thought to Alex—lest she invite the teasing of the infuriating buffoon.

"I am absent for a few months, dear, and I find you plotting a military campaign without me," Winter tutted.

Alex smiled. "My dear Winter, it sounds like you're more upset that I planned to do it without you than the act itself."

Winter gave an unladylike snort—something she only felt comfortable doing around him. She shook her head. "No, dear. I'm asking because General Ironwood has concerns. Your men are mostly Solitan citizens, you know. He wants assurances they will be alright."

Alexander leaned back, crossing his arms. "I assure you, I've taken steps to ensure that operation—when it happens—is undertaken with great care." He tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But we finally see each other again after so long, and we immediately talk shop. Why not relax? Unwind a little?" His voice was low, tempting, like a soft melody in Winter's ears.

Winter's expression softened, and she allowed herself a slight smile. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm here until the Vytal Festival is over. As you know, I've been tasked with serving as the liaison between our kingdom and Vale."

Yet in her heart, she felt a stab of guilt. Both of them had known what they were signing up for, but she still felt she was lacking as a partner—unable to provide her lover with the warmth and comfort he deserved. Logically, she knew that paramours were often permitted and even expected in their social class. But Alexander had been adamant about staying monogamous, and she, in turn, had acquiesced. A selfish part of her heart rejoiced at his decision. Winter Schnee had few things in her life that she considered truly hers, and Alexander was one of them. She had no desire to be shared around like a piece of bread. Nor did she desire to share him around as if he were bread. 

Alexander, however, looked at her with an incredulous expression. "Liaison?" He shook his head. "Winter, have you met the First Minister?"

Winter shook her head. "No, I don't believe I have. I've heard of him, though. His efforts to modernize Vale are commendable." And expensive, her mind whispered. She kept tabs on other nations, particularly their economies, and Vale was spending precious lien trying to keep up with Solitas.

"Well, I have. And he's an ass," Alex grumbled, to Winter's quiet scandal.

"Alex! Language!" Winter admonished, but he only threw up his hands in frustration.

"Love, I've met the man. He's pompous, irascible, and Valean!" he cried. Then he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and fixing her with a warning look. "I must warn you—have your utmost patience when talking with that fossil."

"Alex," Winter said gently, "it will be fine, I assure you. Besides, if I could tolerate my father's old board members, I can handle the First Minister."

Alexander clicked his tongue. "I'm just worried, that's all. The idea of my fiancée dealing with such a terrible man… it annoys me."

"I'm no maiden who barely knows her left foot from her right, Alex. I'll be fine," Winter replied, exasperated. Alexander sighed, crossing his arms. Then a smug, almost mischievous expression spread across his face.

"You are indeed no maiden, love," Alex smirked, leaning toward her. "I would know."

Winter blinked, staring at him, before his meaning registered. Slowly, her cheeks reddened. Once, she might have sputtered in indignation. But this time, she decided to return his mockery in kind. "I don't recall you complaining about it," she retorted coolly. "If I remember correctly, you were rather enthusiastic about it."

The mood shifted. Winter quickly reached for her teacup, sipping as she crossed her legs. It had been months since they last indulged, forcing them to rely on holographic communication and sending each other images that absolutely could not be shared. In that moment, Winter felt desire swell in her chest.

When she'd entered the Imperial branch office, she'd sworn to herself that she would suppress her hunger until nightfall. Today, she had only planned to give Alex a surprise visit before heading off to see her sister at Beacon. But Alexander—seeing him again in the flesh, having him in front of her after so long…

Well, no one could blame a woman for wanting to indulge in her lover, could they?

But alas, she had to meet her sister. Weiss might be young, but she was not stupid. Winter would rather not invite her sister's judgment by showing up at her school smelling like a ravaged woman.

Appearances must be kept, after all.

Tonight, she vowed. She would get her fill of her lover's affection—or she would break a table in two.

Womanly musings aside, Winter set her teacup down, clearing her throat. "Now, my dear, General Ironwood must be assured that this will not cause problems between Solitas and Vale."

If Alexander was annoyed by the return to business, he did not show it. "Of course. I've already informed the Valean government of my intentions as a courtesy, since I'll be moving assets through their territory. Clearly, I should have asked forgiveness rather than permission. Trying to accomplish anything here is next to impossible with the Fleur in charge."

"They are the democratically elected government, given the people's mandate, Alex. Unless they are replaced with a different government, you must accept that people will tell you 'no' sometimes," Winter reminded him.

"Gods, I know, love. But the Fleur—they're something else entirely," Alex complained. "Instead of calming their citizens down, they're stoking fear! What the hell?"

He shook his head in frustration. "They can't blame me, then, when I bring in solutions that calm their people instead of scaring them further. Unstable citizens make unruly people. Bad for business, bad for the economy."

"Is the economy your sole concern?" Winter asked, her tone growing sharp. She had heard similar arguments before—from someone she despised.

"It's not the end-all, be-all, I promise," Alexander replied quickly, sensing her unease. "It's about international stability. Keeping Vale afloat means security for us as well. They export food to us, after all. They too are the second most populous kingdom on Remnant. That's why I'm here personally—to stabilize the kingdom and reassure other businessmen. I care deeply for humanity, you know? I must—for they make me money."

He sniffed. "To that end, I plan to introduce distractions while the authorities do their job. The video games and commercials are only the beginning!"

Ever the businessman, Winter thought. As long as he didn't descend into greed like her father, she had no objections. "As your branch manager said, the Fleur might accuse you of exploiting their troubles."

Alexander scoffed. "Winter, they're the ones ringing alarm bells. They're the ones creating demand. Let them scare people more—it just means more customers for me."

"I doubt the Valeans would approve of civilians owning high-caliber weapons and missiles, Alex," Winter said dryly.

Alex shrugged. "I'm aware. Hence why I foresee that its actual sales will be from countryside folk. For the actual civilian market, I will be releasing a civilian model."

Winter leaned in, intrigued. "Oh?"

Alex grinned. "Oh yes. It'll be comfortable, easy to carry, and user-friendly. Though it might look rather menacing in the dark."

"Might I see it? I'm curious about what you've thought up," Winter asked.

"I need to forge it first, then have my engineers refine it for production," Alexander admitted, sounding almost sheepish. "But I can expedite it for you, if you'd like."

It had been some time since she had seen him work. This could be a treat, Winter thought.

"Sure," Winter nodded.

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Winter watched with interest as Alexander worked. Bare-chested and focused, he leaned over the table, hammer and nail in hand. He inhaled deeply and then forged. Even now, Winter still couldn't quite understand how his semblance worked. As far as she knew—and as Alexander had explained—he merely thought of something and brought it into existence. That explanation, however, was frustratingly vague, and Winter suspected Alexander was deliberately keeping it that way. He was an expert at obfuscation when it suited him.

The clanging of metal echoed through the workshop as Alexander began to work in earnest. Winter felt hot—not in the intimate sense, though the sight of his bare chest certainly stirred some unwelcome thoughts. No, it was the oppressive heat of the workshop, searing and suffocating, as if an actual furnace had been lit. Sweat dripped down her face as hammer strikes rang out, echoing like a symphony of creation. Slowly, a shape began to form.

Finally, Alexander stepped back, exhaling deeply, his face gleaming with satisfaction. His creation stood before them.

It was egg-shaped, stark white, and perched atop a tripod. A single, glowing red eye stared forward. Winter understood immediately why Alex had claimed it would be menacing in the dark.

"I dub you the Turret," Alex whispered tenderly, patting the machine on what could be considered its "head." The machine came to life with a quiet whirr, its eye blinking as its sides opened to reveal four tubes. Gun barrels, Winter noted grimly.

Alexander turned to her, smiling, his body dripping with sweat, his shirt clinging tightly to his torso. "It fires rounds similar to the Defender—7.62x51. Not too big compared to the others, but civilian-friendly."

"I'm different!" the turret chirped in a monotone yet cheerful voice. Winter blinked.

"It can talk?" she asked, stepping closer to inspect the machine.

Alexander nodded. "Well, it'll be around civilians after all, so giving it a personality helps with the appeal."

"Target acquired," the turret chirped suddenly, swivelling its head to face Winter. She instinctively took a step back, her eyes darting between the machine and Alexander.

"No! Bad turret! Winter is friend, not target!" Alex admonished it, his tone scolding, as if speaking to a misbehaving child. The turret hesitated, its barrels retracting as it tilted its head in apparent confusion.

"Understood. I'm sorry," it apologized. "I detected high levels of pheromones from Friend Winter. It was…" The machine paused, as though searching for the right word. "...concerning."

Winter froze, her face heating up in an instant. She stared at the turret, mortified, before finally bursting out, "Silence, you... you machine!" Her voice cracked slightly as she shouted. The turret seemed to shrink in response to her rage, its eye dimming slightly.

On the sidelines, Alexander doubled over in laughter. Winter turned on him with a hiss, her face red with both embarrassment and fury.

"Not a word," she warned through gritted teeth, her tone sharp enough to cut steel.

"Don't be mad at the turret—it's just doing its job," Alexander teased, still grinning as he gave the machine a reassuring pat. "It's raw right now, but with a few adjustments, it'll be ready for civilian use."

"You'd better teach it some manners," Winter grumbled, crossing her arms.

"So… high pheromones, huh?" Alex asked, his teasing tone returning as he smirked at her.

"Shut up," Winter groaned, glaring at him.

"Make me," Alexander challenged with a grin.

"I have to meet my sister, you insatiable hound," Winter snapped, her voice tinged with exasperation. She turned away from him, refusing to let her eyes linger on his bare, sweat-slick chest. "We can't. Wait until tonight."

"But what if I can't wait?" Alexander suddenly asked, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive tone.

Winter froze. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as she felt him approach from behind, his footsteps deliberate yet quiet.

"What if I can't wait for later, and I want you now?" Alexander whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. His forehead rested against her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. Winter gasped softly as she felt his body press against hers, the solid heat of him making her pulse quicken.

"I-I have to m-meet Weiss," Winter stammered, her voice trembling as her mind raced. She gasped again when he shifted slightly, his movements deliberate and teasing.

"Why aren't you pushing me away?" Alexander murmured darkly.

Of course, Winter missed him. The months apart had been agonizing, eating away at her resolve. And now, with him finally here—his yearning and desire for her so openly displayed—how could she deny it? Her reason screamed at her to stop. She had to visit her sister soon, after all. But her body, her heart, and her yearning for him drowned out that small voice of logic.

She glanced around the workshop, her mind racing.

"...Is this room soundproof?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Mhm," Alexander hummed, nodding against her shoulder.

"And... we're completely alone?" she continued, her voice hesitant.

"Absolutely," he replied, his grin audible in his tone.

"Are there showers here where I can clean myself afterward?" Winter asked, her voice steadying slightly.

"With full facilities," Alexander confirmed, his grin widening.

Winter took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Then take me, you ba—"

Alexander didn't let her finish.

With a growl low in his throat, he spun her around, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. The heat between them ignited like dry tinder catching flame. Winter's breath hitched, her heart pounding against her ribs as he pushed her back, hard, until her thighs hit the edge of the sturdy workshop table. Papers, pencils, other items fell into the floor carelessly but neither cared. She barely had time to gasp before he pressed forward, his lips crashing against hers, fierce and hungry.

She melted into the kiss, hands tangling in his sweat-slick hair, nails dragging across his scalp as he devoured her mouth. Then, without warning, Alexander broke away, his grip shifting to her waist as he spun her around again, bending her over the table with a sharp, commanding motion. The cool surface met her flushed cheek, a sharp contrast to the fever burning beneath her skin.

His hands were ruthless, yanking down her pant uniform with one swift motion, her light-blue panties following in a tangled mess around her knees. The chill of the workshop air kissed her exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the searing heat of Alexander dropping to his knees behind her.

She gasped as his mouth found her, hot and wet against her aching core. His tongue was merciless, flicking and circling, delving deep with maddening precision. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh and stockings as he pulled her closer, burying his face between her legs like a man starved. Winter's knuckles whitened as she clutched the table, her body trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps.

Winter moaned, her voice a desperate whisper, hips grinding against his face, chasing the electric edge of release. But he wasn't going to let her finish so easily.

Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving her gasping, empty. Before she could protest, she felt him rise behind her, his hands sliding up her back, rough palms trailing over her spine. One hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back with a sharp tug, forcing her arch deeper.

"You think you can walk away from me?" he growled, his voice dark and thick with desire.

She didn't get a chance to answer. He drove into her in one hard thrust, filling her completely, stretching her with desperate urgency. Winter cried out, a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the workshop, her body slamming forward against the table only to be yanked back by the grip he had on her hair.

Alexander fucked her like he was trying to imprint himself into her very bones, hips slamming against her ass with relentless force. His free hand snaked around to grab her breast, squeezing hard, fingers pinching her nipple until she gasped, her body clenching around him.

"You're mine," he snarled, thrusting harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the ragged symphony of their breathing. He could tell her how much he missed her, needed her. But he did not need to tell her what his desperate coupling could.

Winter could barely think, her mind blank with the overwhelming sensation of him inside her, around her, consuming her. "Fuck me, Fuck me, Fuck me," She moaned, over and over, her voice breaking as she felt the tight coil in her belly snap, her orgasm crashing over her in blinding waves.

Alexander didn't stop. He kept going, chasing his own release, his thrusts growing erratic, rougher, until finally he, pulled out of her and unleashed his seed on her rear. 

They collapsed together, his weight a comforting pressure against her back as they both struggled to catch their breath. The turret chirped softly in the background, long forgotten, its glowing red eye blinking in quiet observation.

Alexander chuckled against her neck, pressing a lazy kiss to her damp skin.

"Still think I should wait until tonight?" he whispered, breath warm against her ear.

Winter groaned, her body still quivering from the aftershocks. She was slick, wet, and smelt like fluids. But...she was satiated.

For now.

"Shut up," she mumbled, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

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Much later

Weiss blinked, watching her sister. 

Winter was still herself, sophisticated and ladylike. But something was off. Winter, sensing her sister's stare, paused just as she was about to sup from her own tea cup. 

​"Is something wrong, Weiss?" Winter asked. 

Weiss's lips went thin. "Nooooo," she replied tersely. "Nothing at all." 

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A/N: My lust for Schnee women...it is a hungry maw that will never be satiated. 

I must congratulate myself for writing only with one hand. It takes skill.