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a-libra-writes · 4 years

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Bathing With the RDR2 Gang

This is 150% self indulgent please forgive me. Im only in like chap 3 of the game haha but i cant resist. rockstar please cant i just give everyone a bath and nicer clothes??? let me give tilly lots of dresses i beg you

In this imagine, you’ll be warshin: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones

ARTHUR MORGAN

He’s bashful about it at first, even if you’ve been together before, but it doesn’t take long at all for him to relax. He really enjoys the closeness of it, and how intimate and calming something as simple as sitting in water can be. It’s a little cold, which just makes him want to hold you closer. If he’s had an exhausting day, he’ll lean on your shoulder and close his eyes, slowly dozing off as you run your fingers through his hair. You figure you should let him rest, and you wash the rest of him while he sighs contentedly against your wet skin. After a bath, regardless if it’s in a river or tub, he’s always worried you’ll catch cold. He packs an extra jacket or shirt of his for you to wear. If you had a warm bath at the saloon, he’ll be in such a snuggly, intimate mood that he’ll grin as he carries you to the room.

JOHN MARSTON

You’ve never met a man who gets as mangy as he does, and so quickly! You have to drag him to a river to properly wash, since he seems to just splash water on his face and arms and call it a day. John fusses with embarrassment at first and can’t believe you actually brought fancy soaps (any soap is fancy to him), but he quiets down once you strip. Once you’re in the water and lathering him up, he’s bashful from the attention but actually really likes it. He can’t help himself from getting handsy, almost clingy, but he stays obedient and rinses off when you tell him. He’s not so fond of the saloon tubs, even with the hot water, because it just feels too cramped. The openness of a lake or river, along with the bright sun and noise of nature, is just objectively better.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

While he loves sharing a bath with you, it’s definitely an indulgence and one you both don’t always have time for. So when there’s time, he makes sure it’s a cozy tub with plenty of hot water. He thinks it’s adorable if you want to wash him and care for him, because he’d rather do that to you. Sometimes he’s chatty and playful, other times he’s tired and thoughtful, but Dutch always likes to just hold you and soak for a bit. He’ll make sure you’re dried off and warm first, and he’ll want to keep touching you, so he’ll want to dress you and escort you to the room. Dutch really can’t get enough of your skin when it’s wet and smelling so nice, so you aren’t going to sleep anytime soon.

HOSEA MATTHEWS

He enjoys bathing out in nature, even if there isn’t always time for a proper wash, so your suggestion to take a dip in the lake amuses him. He’d rather wash you first, enjoying the simplicity of doing something like that for someone he loves. You two often end up chatting and joking about this or that while you just take your time and enjoy the sunny day. Hosea doesn’t mind if the water is a little cold, it invigorates him better than a cup of coffee. He always urges you to dry off and dress quickly so you don’t catch cold, and he’s the one who double checks to make sure you both brought a spare change of clothes. Hosea doesn’t mind a hot bath in the saloon, even if it is cramped. It makes him terribly sleepy, though, he’ll rest his head in the crook of your neck… but he’d rather not fall asleep in a giant porcelain bowl, so he’d urge you to head to bed with him.

SADIE ADLER

Honestly, she’s a little too embarrassed to squeeze in a tub with you, so a quick wash in a river is preferable. Her first thought is to strip down and get it done quick, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you want to sit in the water and help wash her for a bit. Only a bit, she says, but she ends up enjoying the smalltalk and admiring you. She’d rather wash herself, but she wants to help you reach any spots you can’t get. If she’s feeling more relaxed and sentimental, she’ll want to take care of your hair, too. Sadie prefers bathing with you at night, half because it feels more private, half because it feels like you have all the time in the world and you both can just enjoy each other’s company and the stars. It always makes her feel less tense and helps her sleep a little better.

MICAH BELL

Good lord, it’s like wrangling a cat. Your chance of success is significantly higher if he’s drunk and you promise sex afterward. You all but push him into the river, he grumbles and swears the entire time, he can’t believe you have “soap and shit”, also he can’t keep his hands to himself and wants to drag you into his lap. You could’ve washed his hair in just a few minutes, but it takes longer because you keep swatting his hands away and scolding him for nipping at your neck and shoulders. He’d never admit how nice your fingers feel on his scalp, even if it relaxes him to the point where he’s quieter and less handsy. You don’t bother taking him to the saloon for a dip in the tub because there’s no way he’ll give a shit about bathing when you’re squeezed in such a tight spot with him.

CHARLES SMITH

He loves bathing in rivers and lakes with you; he’s the one to casually suggest it first. It’s just such a simple yet private and loving thing for him, he can’t keep the grin off his face as you strip down and join him in the water. He wants to spoil you first, really touch and enjoy every inch of you, but he melts in your hands when you start washing his hair and rubbing his broad back. His favorite time to do it is at night, since you look so beautiful under the glow of the moon and the stars. If you both are feeling more playful, he’ll definitely splash at you or drag you to the deep end to swim around. Once you both are thoroughly clean and tired, he’ll want to fetch your dry clothes for you, and he always packs a blanket in case you want to sit out and enjoy the night.

BILL WILLIAMSON

Well, your offer embarrassed him at first, but then you teased him and playfully dared him and well, now you’re here at the riverbank and he’s stripping down in a huff. You were surprised how shy he was at first, since it wasn’t the first time you’d been naked together. Bill wasn’t sure where he should put his hands (or his eyes) and how deep in the water you wanted to go, but once you cuddled close and started washing him, that all melted away. It’s exciting and fun to him, and he likes the soaps you use on him. Even if they smell girly and flowery, it’s what you use, and it’s nice to have your hands on him. Maybe this is why they’re so soft? Afterward he’d really want you to wear one of his shirts back to camp, and he’s disappointed when the smell of your soap eventually fades off the flannel.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

He jumps at the suggestion when you first make it, and he’s the sort to prefer the saloons and their hot water. First of all, hot steaming water, often with bubbles because of the soaps you bring, and he gets to keep you as close as he pleases and “accidentally” brush against your body at all angles. No downsides here. He dislikes the cold water of lakes and rivers; the sun is rarely strong enough to warm them. He’s very weak to you washing his hair. He’ll lean into your touch and give you all sorts of kisses and praises as you run your fingers through it. He’s in such a giddy, warm mood afterward that he wants to dry you off himself and carry you to the room, grinning like you two are newlyweds. There’s no way he’s letting the night end with just a bath.

SEAN MACGUIRE

Alright, he talks big game when you suggest it, grinning that of course he couldn’t turn down such an offer, and you two won’t be doing much bathing, if you get his point. You just roll your eyes and tell him to follow you. The thing is, once you start stripping down without a care, he starts getting a little red in the ears. By the time you’re both nude and you’re relaxing in the water, he’s flushed to his neck but still trying to make jokes. He’s startled that you actually want to help him wash, and when he does the same, he’s seriously conflicted on where to put his hands. Once he’s relaxed, the “accidental” touches are gonna happen all the time and a splash fight will break out. Once you’re all dried off and heading back to camp, he totally talks big game and wants to kiss on you and brag about your little dip, as if it’s something scandalous.

LENNY SUMMERS

He’s totally flustered at your suggestion but there’s no way he’s not doing it. He’d rather go to the river, especially at night, since it feels more private and something about a stuffy, heated saloon bathing room is a bit … much. Besides, this way you can see the stars and moon, and be as loud as you want. Lenny’s nerves all but melt away once you both start talking and washing, and he gets in a very content, cuddly mood. He makes a point to remember the soaps you like so he can get more if he comes across any, and he wants to help you dry off so he’s sure you won’t get too cold. He’ll probably suggest sitting by the campfire for a bit, just to be sure (and just because he wants to keep cuddling).

KIERAN DUFFY

This poor man, why are you teasing him like this? He’s so sure there’s some kind of punchline, but you walked with him all the way to the river, and now you’re stripping down … He’s so flushed with embarrassment, but there’s no way he’s not following you into the water. Once you joke around with him and talk to settle his nerves, the tension finally leaves his shoulders. He’ll be a little unsure about you touching and washing him, but he’s glad to do the same for you, trying very hard not to get distracted by the softness of your skin. Once you’re ready to get out, Kieran suddenly worries about you being cold, and he really insists on you wearing his jacket on top of your’s, and that you ought to sit by a fire to warm up. It’s cute how much he frets about this.

TILLY JACKSON

Tilly will pick warm water and a cramped tub any day of the week, and really, it’s not so bad since you’re both ladies and she’s fairly short. She finds the cramped space comical if anything, and you both will be wiggling and giggling while you wash off and just leisurely enjoy the bath. She’s the type who doesn’t like to prune, but she won’t get out until you do. She has a nice collection of soaps and often finds ones you like, and helps you wash after you help her. Afterward she definitely wants to cuddle and probably apply some lotions; you think it’s cute how much she likes feeling so clean and pretty. All that plus the saloon’s mostly cozy bed makes you two feel like fancy ladies living in luxury, and you both grin and recall it for a least a week afterward. A dip in the river is so … unexciting by comparison, you both just sigh and wash quickly before you shiver to death.

MARY-BETH GASKILL

Your offer made the color rise to her cheeks, even if you’d been intimate before. Why hadn’t this occurred to her? It seemed like a private thing, but she was too interested. She always thought a hot bath was the height of comfort, but when you took her to the river, she was in awe over how quiet and cozy it was as the sun set. The colors of the sky and stillness of the water was so romantic! She likes being the one to undo your hair and clothes, although she’s shy about you doing the same and wanting to wash her. Mary-Beth loves having nice soap to wash with and will admire you for having several on hand. She can’t help but be full of giggles and give you lots of kisses while you both sit and chat.

KAREN JONES

She’ll laugh at such a “saucy” suggestion, but she’s game for either a quick dip in the river or a trip to the saloon. When it comes to a warm tub, her usual jokes and fun will peter out as she gets sleepy and cuddles up to you. No matter where you two are, washing her hair and massaging her back makes her tired, and she’ll curl up in your arms and tease you about carrying a nice lady back to her bed. Once you two are dried off, she’ll wake up enough to help tie your hair up and dress for bed or for the day, depending on when you bathed. If it’s the morning, she’ll need just a few kisses and hugs to be energetic again. If she’s still chilly afterward, she’ll borrow one of your jackets and wear it well after she’s dried off.

#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #rdr2 imagines #arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #hosea matthews x reader #sadie adler x reader #micah bell x reader #charles smith x reader #bill williamson x reader #javier escuella x reader #sean macguire x reader #lenny summers x reader #kieran duffy x reader #tilly jackson x reader #mary-beth gaskill x reader #karen jones x reader

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beautcous · 4 years

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Thread 01 (Halloween)

Festivals and holidays were one thing Max didn’t have any sort of attachment or excitement for namely because growing these things hadn’t been a part of his childhood. Being the the only child of two extremely neglectful parents, it didn’t leave much room to be able to go out and experience such festivities. Perhaps thats why the CEO never cared much for it even as he grew into an adolescent, there simply hadn’t been anyone to take him out and let him experience the things most of the population had the chance to indulge in. All Max could recall from his childhood were lonely holidays he spent with only his nannies, whom made sure that in such occasions he wasn’t alone. Thus, Max couldn’t deny how out of place he felt in this halloween bash but his choice in coming was very little.

That halloween afternoon Max was currently walking amongst the crowd with Emmett right beside him. Somehow the young tycoon had gotten roped into entertaining his six-year old nephew as his parents were out of town but of course Max didn’t mind. He loved his nephew dearly even though the little devil was quite a handful. With his smaller hand clasped in Max’s bigger one, he held onto him firmly ensuring he didn’t run off and get lost in the crowd. A few seconds later he felt his hand being tugged and Max’s gaze flickered down to Emmett, his gaze softening but his words were stern. “What I did say? Don’t go running off without me.” He reminded the little boy, who in turn pouted, “But I want go to there!” Max looked over to where his nephew was pointing to where a long table of pumpkins rested, and it was then he realized what the he wanted to do. “You want to carve pumpkins? Are you sure?” Emmett nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, please uncle Max.” he then gave the CEO a toothy smile which caused Max to let out a chuckle and he relented, walking them over to the where the pumpkins were.

When they arrived, Max’s gaze immediately spotted a very familiar brunette and one whom never failed to annoy him. Meera hadn’t seem him yet, and he took this moment to let his gaze rake over her before Emmett demanded his attention once more, “I want that one!” All but pulling Max in the direction to where Meera stood and he resisted the urge to pull his nephew in the other direction because he was in no mood to engage with the annoying brunette not when he was having to focus on the six-year-old beside him. “Come on, why are you walking so slow?” His nephew once more demanded and he rolled his eyes at Emmett’s impatience but once more gave in. Pulling out the pumpkin while ignoring the woman who stood a few feet away from him, “slowly, Emmett you don’t want to hurt yourself.” he chided the boy, mostly because Max himself had no clue how to carve a pumpkin, as he’d never done so in his life.

Meera volunteered her time when she could, but never once had she even considered helping out at a booth like this one. She would have to be around children, assisting them in carving pumpkins, and although she didn’t have much experience with them, she was actually rather excited by it. Everyone knew that business was more of her calling. In her spare time however, she dabbled in art. Pottery was her forte. It helped to relax her, making her forget about the stresses in her life. When the opportunity came for her to pick what she wanted to help with, she chose this booth. There might’ve been a reason behind it however. A very special one; Axel. Love and needing a better understanding of children led her down this path. There was no denying that she loved Atlas. He came into her world and brought down her walls with his kindness. Yes, he wasn’t her other half and there might be a chance that she might lose him for good if he were to find his soulmate, but despite that knowledge, she still wanted to be the best for him, and Axel. They were important to her, and no matter how busy her life may seem, she always made time for those she loved.

A gentle smile played along her lips as she made her rounds, helping the little ones with their pumpkins. She loved this, seeing how families come together. Smiles everywhere. It warmed her heart. If only her household was like this as she was growing up. While her parents could not be categorized as cold, they weren’t exactly warm either. At least not towards her. They expected so little of her, wanting her to marry someone from a wealthy family and bore them grandchildren. Unfortunately for them, Meera was strong willed and wanted more for her life. She was beautiful, she knew this, but that wasn’t all she was. There was so much she could do for her family. For starters, she should be the next President of Patel Industries. She was the one who was business minded; her brothers weren’t very interested in it. But was she going to get that honor? No. Her father thought that she wasn’t strong enough to handle that responsibility. It angered her. Made her want to prove her worth even more. Hence why she was here in Stonehill. She figured that if she worked hard enough, her father would see her worth and allow her to lead the company.

As her mind veered, she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings. It wasn’t until she heard his voice, that she snapped out of it. Oh God, why did he have to be here? She would rather deal with her worse enemy than him; Maxwell Kincaid. Although, now that she thought about it, he was kind of her enemy. The man was a menace and to say that she disliked him would be an understatement of a century. Meera had planned on ignoring him, and minding her own business, but it wasn’t him that she needed to focus her attention on, rather the boy. He looked a little older than Axel, and much more excitable. Somehow, the idea of the kid bothering Maxwell made her smile bloom even brighter, her dimples popping from the action. For a moment, she simply stood her ground and watched the two, until she couldn’t just let him butcher the pumpkin any longer. After expelling a sigh, and rolling her eyes, she walked over to the pair and spoke to the little boy, “Can I help you with this?” Her voice was kind and she even wore a friendly smile for him. All this time, she didn’t even bother to address Maxwell.

Was it a bit pathetic that a CEO of a multi-billion dollar company didn’t know the basics of a carving a fruit? Perhaps, and Max would argue it most certainly was. Especially, when a child appeared to know what he was doing while the young tycoon stood there a bit clueless. Max enjoyed spending time with his nephew, but he’d be lying if he said he was keen on the activities the little boy wanted to do. Of course, he sucked it up, and once he arrived at the booth with Emmett, the little boy’s excitement grew tenfold. His brown hues growing wide as he tried decide which pumpkin he wanted to carve. About a minute went by when Emmett finally decided on one and tugged Max towards a table an empty table, with the CEO watching his nephew begin to carve into his pumpkin. The only thing that concerned him at this point was Emmett hurting himself with the instrument. And while it didn’t look dangerous, it was still in the hands of a boy who was too eager for his own good.

It was when his eyes darted around did he finally spot the striking brunette who once had rejected his advances a few months back. Now, Max wasn’t the one to hold grudges, but he couldn’t deny his ego had definitely taken a hit when she turned him down instantly, even for someone who had a healthy ego to begin with. True, he hadn’t gone about it the correct way and some might argue he’d been a complete jackass while he’d been hitting on her. However, she perhaps was the first woman to out right reject him, this wasn’t the usual sort of response he got from women. Honestly, all it did was make him want her more but Max was not the type to chase someone who wasn’t interested. Much to his dismay, it wasn’t the last time he’d seen her, due to their social standing their careers the two ran into each other often. Their exchanges that followed afterwards usually consisted of Max mocking and taunting her to which Meera quickly retaliated to. While he wasn’t fond of her, he most certainly was impressed with the way she’d dish back his barbs.

Against his better judgement, his hazel hues discreetly raked over her lithe frame, mildly annoyed at himself as to why he was noticing her in that manner. But now as he thought about it, it’d been like this since the moment he first laid eyes on her. There always this sense of attraction or pull he felt towards her, why he did, he had no clue. However, it wasn’t something he was going to look into, much preferring to ignore his attraction to this woman. Primarily because while as good as she was to look at, it didn’t change the fact that Meera never failed to annoy him. He hoped that she’d see him and continue to ignore him but no, that had not been the case. Meera walked over to where they stood, from the look on her face it was very obvious she was seeing Max struggle to help his nephew. Her question, however, seemed to directed to Emmett. Max shot the woman an irritated look, “He doesn’t need help, you can carry on.” Came his curt response, his nephew meanwhile still was concentrating hard on carving out an eye? At least from what Max could gather. “I cant his eyes.”Emmett finally spoke up and the CEO left out a exasperated sigh, mostly because he didn’t want Meera’s help. “I’ll help you, Emmett.” he told the little boy who shook his head, “Not you, you’re really bad this, uncle Mat.” Which caused the CEO to glare at his nephew.

If anyone would’ve told Meera that she would be standing here on Halloween about to help a little boy who just so happens to be Maxwell Kincaid’s nephew–from what she gathered–she would’ve laughed in their faces. Hate couldn’t even describe how she felt about him. She’d been put off from the first moment she met him. It didn’t surprise her however, his arrogance. The man was after all wealthy. Most men in his shoes thought they could walk on water. She wasn’t going to deny that he was good looking, she wasn’t blind, Maxwell was strikingly handsome. Standing at over six foot tall, he towered over her. If that wasn’t enough, his jawline, dark hair, and those bright hazel eyes alone could make a woman or man, weak in the knees. The problem she had with him was, he didn’t make a proper introduction like a gentleman would. What he did first was try to hit on her. It simply rubbed her the wrong way. He probably figured that she would be flattered by his advances. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t the type of woman to be so easily swayed by trivial compliments and sweet talk. Her beauty wasn’t her strongest suit, her intelligence was.

Perhaps that was the reason why she fell for Atlas. He’d been genuine from the get go. He didn’t try too hard, and if she was being honest, he won her over with how loving he was towards Axel. She might not want to settle down now, but she did in the future, and she wanted the father of her children to have the same care and love that Atlas did with Axel. Sure, their future was uncertain; what with both of them having different soulmates, but she could only hope that neither of them find their other halves, because she would love to settle down and build a life with Atlas. Just thinking about having to walk away from him and Axel made her heart drop. She didn’t want to think of that reality. It hurts too much, so it was best that she veer off from such morose thoughts. They were still in her life now, and if Fate was going to wrench them away from her in the future, she would much rather make as many good memories with them as possible.

Although she was trying to help the little boy, that arrogant ass; Maxwell, wanted to push her away instead. He even had the cheek to tell her to carry on. Who the hell did he think he was talking to here? She wasn’t his servant, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him dismiss her like she was one. She had half a mind to tell him to go to hell and be done with him, but she couldn’t think about him. This wasn’t about him anyway, it was about the little boy. She wasn’t going to allow a rude jerk to ruin Halloween for the little guy, so she said instead. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to him.” She rolled her eyes, thankful that Emmett’s–again from what she heard Maxwell calling him–gaze was stuck on the pumpkin instead of her face. Her lips twitched when she heard the comment that Emmett made, laughter bubbling on the surface, yet somehow, she was able to stop herself from cracking up. Serves you right for being an ass. She thought. “Emmett, is it?” She addressed the young child in a soft tone, “–let me help you with his eyes, okay…?” Reaching for one of the carving tool, she started in on the eyes, carving two holes until she managed to form the eyes. “–There, that’s better.”

For someone who had never really faced rejection in his life, he had to admit being rebuffed by Meera Patel had left a bad taste in his mouth. His usual methods of flirting seemed to work on every woman except this one, perhaps thats why she never failed to provoke him. Despite his best efforts, she still found a way to get under his skin and in return he annoyed her. Max had honestly never met anyone as beautiful as Meera, dare he even say, Meera was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. With her flawless topaz skin, combined with her lustrous dark hair and fathomless dark eyes. It was safe to say, attraction seemed to be to less of a work for what he felt. The young tycoon always got anyone he wanted and then to have her appear and outright reject him was disappointing. That much he could admit to himself, and when he had hit on her it wasn’t because he wanted to get to know her. It was more the fact that he wanted to tangle in the sheets with her, after all, Max did admire novelty in women. Or maybe he was just tried of going for the same generic women over and over.

While she was more than pleasing to the eye, it didn't change the fact that her personality left a bit more to be desired. In fact, he’d even say she seemed to be much a goody-two shoes for his liking, he preferred edgy woman and Meera certainly not fit the bill. So, then why the hell did he still check her out? Why he hell was he so drawn to her despite his personal dislike for her? Whatever it was he hoped it passed because the last thing he wanted was be doing this anytime they ran into one another. Meera stayed put by his table, her eyes looking over at his nephew, who seemed to be against him on this. Much to dismay asked Meera to stay back but really Emmett hadn’t been wrong in that Max was useless with this task. The young CEO did roll his eyes in return when the brunette make that snippy comment, one he knew he deserved. She was only trying to help but it was like an inexplicable need to antagonize her still. His nephew on the other hand was glad for the woman’s assistance and he glared at the little traitor. At this point, he had no choice but to stand there and let Meera help much to his displeasure, but still he couldn’t help but remark. “He said he wanted help, not for you to do the entire thing. What’s he supposed to do now?” Turning his nocking gaze to the female CEO, as he felt Emmett tugging on his hand. “Your being mean.” And he let out an exacerbated sigh because well his nephew was right. “I like it! thank you!” Emmett on the other grinned at Meera, his dimples showing as he looked pleased. “You don’t need to thank her, Em. It’s her job.” He had realized she was monitoring the booth.

Gaze finding the younger boy’s, Meera couldn’t stop herself from smiling at his reaction. Despite having an ass for an uncle, she found him adorable and so polite compared to the man she despised. His remark about her carving the pumpkin had her seething on the inside. What was up with him? She wondered. Was it not bad enough that she had to be in his presence now? Not only that, now he had to be a pain in her neck as well? Perhaps he was just the type of man who couldn’t handle rejection. She did after all turn him down flat, uncaring of his feelings. But was she to be blamed? She didn’t think so. If he had just been more of a gentleman instead of a buffoon, maybe she wouldn’t be so put off by him. Instead, he wanted to act like he was some kind of big shot. As if she was expected to fall for him just because he’d given her a little attention. Well, she wasn’t taken in by that. There were plenty of men like him. Ones who thought that they could conduct themselves in an unsavory manner and due to their wealth and stature in life, they feel like woman would simply fall for them. The thought alone had her rolling her eyes.

If looks could kill, Meera was sure that Maxwell would have keeled over and died by now. In fact, she was already thinking about using the carving tool for that smart mouth of his. It took a moment of steady breaths for her to regain her composure, and when she did, she smiled at Emmett. Watching how excited he’d become somehow managed to erase her anger even if it was fleeting. “You’re very welcome.” She said before her ire came back in full force, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared at Maxwell. “And what a great example you’re setting for Emmett, Maxwell. But then again, why should I even be surprised? You always were an ass.” She knew she shouldn’t have said it, she wasn’t the kind of woman who would stoop to his level. And yet, she couldn’t stop the venomous words from pouring out of her. Since he wasn’t going to be nice, she didn’t see the point in trying. And in her defense, he started all this. Whenever he came around, he always made it a point to infuriate her. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself. Well, if he wanted to play games, then two could play it.

He honestly had no idea why he was so annoyed with her appearing and intruding on his time with his nephew. Oh, but Max was well aware that he should be a bit more thankful that she’d been able to help, unlike him. It was times like these where he wished he was a bit more well-versed in these things especially since Emmett enjoyed them so much. It wasn’t that Emmett didn’t like spending time with Max, the little boy never once complained and always seemed so ecstatic to spend time with his uncle. He supposed his pride wouldn’t allow him to be the least bit thankful towards Meera because he didn’t want to give her a reason to insult him some more. Being rejected by her was more than enough, he didn’t wish to add to that list.

Of course, the tycoon realized his approach at flirting with her could have been better but still Meera was an outlier where woman were concerned. He supposed he really did expect her to be charmed by him instantly so when she wasn’t, Max had been somewhat disappointed. He watched his nephews beaming smile at the woman, awe in his expression as if Meera had something specular instead of carving a damn pumpkin. A soft snort left his lips when she turned her attention to Max, his eyes glinted as they stared into her dark ones. “I set a marvelous example for him, so, don’t you worry about that. He’s a lot wiser than you’d expect.” Came his quick reply, folding his arms across his chest he kept his gaze on the CEO. “I sure am, and don’t you forget it sweetheart. What can I say? You just bring out the best in me.” He felt Emmett’s eyes on the two of them, confusion on the little boy’s face and Max was thankful he had no clue what was being said between the adults. He then turned his gaze to Max, “Why do you call her sweetheart, uncle Max? Is she your girlfriend?” The CEO looked to his nephew but didn’t answer him, not sure how to explain to a six-year-old that his use of the endearment wasn’t sincere it was more of him mocking her. “No, she’s not my girlfriend, Emmett.”

The more he spoke, the angrier Meera got. Maxwell must have an affinity to piss her off, because everything that he spewed sounded impertinent. She was beginning to wonder whether or not the man even had a soul. It didn’t look like it. And if he did, she pitied his other half. The man or woman would be better off without a soulmate. Just thinking about having to be around him for a short amount of time made her shudder, let alone spend the rest of her life with a character like him. But perhaps he was pissed off all the time for a reason, maybe he’d already found his soulmate who he ended up repulsing. The individual might’ve ran to Timbaktu just to escape him. That was a reasonable explanation in her book. Hell, if she was left in that person’s shoes, she might board a space shuttle and blast off into space. Anything was better than having to be near him.

Meera’s eyes rolled on its own accord, the urge to gag amplifying. He was the worse example that a young boy should learn from. The man was cold and heartless. The Devil himself should take tips on how to be a complete jackass from Maxwell Kincaid. In the Dictionary, next to the word jerk, a picture of him should be displayed. He was the epitome of the word. “His wisdom did not come from you. You’re nothing but a conceited buffoon.” She spat back, though her tone was unassuming, the fire from her dark eyes could not be masked. “–And don’t call me sweetheart. I’m not your sweetheart.” It sounded wrong coming from him, and she hated how he was able to turn such a saccharine term of endearment into something so repulsive. She nearly forgot about Emmett until he posed the question at the young boy’s arrogant uncle. This whole time, she was glaring Maxwell, wishing that his head would explode. Her hues flickered to the boy, confusion clearly present in her expression. How could he even ask such a question? But then again, he was still very young. Kids took everything literally. “As if I would ever want to be your girlfriend.” She spouted, after taking note of his answer. Besides, Atlas was a thousand times better than he was. Why should she ever want to be with an asshole when she could have a gentleman?

Perhaps the reason why Max went out of his way to antagonize her was because he’d never met anyone who got riled up as easy as Meera did. No one ever responded to him in the way she did and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find the least bit entertaining. Quite frankly, he didn’t fully understand why he gave her such a hard time. Just because she had rejected was hardly a big deal but still anytime Max ran into her, it was natural instinct to rile her up. Maybe there was a deeper reason, but it was he did not know. Despite his annoyance, he had to admire her ability to not let him leave unscathed, he had learned from their very first interaction that this kitten had claws. While his dislike for her remained his attraction to her didn’t falter in the slightest, but he didn’t pay it too much mind because he knew it was his body’s natural reaction to a beautiful women.

As she stood there and began insulting him some more, a faint smirk began tugging at his lips seeing her get to so worked up. In fact, he’d say she looked a bit hot standing there and glaring with her dark eyes blazing and he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she unleashed that sort of passion in the bedroom. He wiped that thought as quickly as it had come, this was the last place to be having such thoughts about a woman who he despised. “I never said it came from me.” He told her nonchalantly, his smirk becoming a bit more visible as he met her gaze, “Conceited? Yeah I guess I am. As for a buffoon, well then I’ve made pretty well myself seeing as I run a multi-billionaire company.” Max rolled his eyes but he could see her frustration building at their exchange. “Don’t deny you like it when I call you that. It’s the nicest word you’ll hear from me.” If he thought she was about ready to combust now, when they heard Emmett’s question, he could swear she looked ready to bolt. He almost wanted to pat his nephew on the back for that comment, a bit too pleased at the look appalled look on Meera’s face. “As if i’d ever want someone as annoying as you to be my girlfriend. I’d mostly likely become an alcoholic within just a day.” Was that a bit too harsh? Probably but he didn’t care. Still, it didn’t stop him from wondering what poor soul got stuck with her as their soulmate. By now, he had almost forgotten Emmett was there, the little boy occupying himself with his pumpkin as he lost interest in their conversation. “Don’t you have other kids to help? Tsk, tsk, Meera, slacking on the job already?” Raising a brow at her mockingly.

Meera wasn’t an angry individual, not by a long shot, and yet, as she stood here glaring at the asshole; Maxwell Kincaid, her blood kept boiling to the point where she swore her head was about to explode. Where did he find such talent to vex her so? Was there a Pompous Jerk Academy that she didn’t know about? Because if there were such a place, she was more than positive that Max would have been the Valedictorian of his graduating class. He simply made being mean look easy. As if the way he acted came naturally to him. Men like him with their arrogance and ego the side of Africa is the reason why she chose to stay away from rich men. They all feel as if they were entitled, that everything that spilled out of their mouths was gold. She hated all of them. Him being the one at the top spot. She would rather live remotely without any friends or companions than have to be around him. He made her sick to her stomach, especially when he smirked at her. Ugh! If only she could punch him in the mouth. That would be satisfying. Luckily for him, she wasn’t one to resort to violence, especially not in front of a young child.

“You could be a millionaire and still act like a buffoon.” Meera spat right back, her fury unmasked as she glared at him. If he thought that she would simply allow him to talk down to her, he had something else coming. She wasn’t afraid of him, never would be. Her face contorted in disgust at his next remark. Of course he would think that she would be flattered by such a trivial word. Perhaps she would be if the word sweetheart came out from someone else, but from him, it was laced with derision. He merely used it to taunt her, and she didn’t appreciate being provoked. “You must be dreaming. I would rather you not speak to me at all.” It hurt a little to hear that she could possibly drive a man to alcoholism, even if it came from him. She wasn’t that bad, was she? Sure, she didn’t have a very good track record when it came to dating, but she was doing rather well with Atlas. They were happy together. Just as those thoughts crossed her mind, she found the courage to fight back. “And you would know about relationships how exactly? A man whore like you wouldn’t appreciate a good woman even if one were to land by your feet.” Was it harsh for her to call him a man whore? Yes, but he deserved it. “I pity the poor soul who ends up being stuck with you. But then again, a heartless bastard like you probably doesn’t even have a soulmate.” She felt a little bad for using the word bastard around Emmett, but her emotions were running high and she couldn’t stop herself. “Why do you care? You’re not the boss of me. I’ll tend to whatever child I feel needs my help, and Emmett looked like he needed it since you’re useless.” Her jaw ticked and she didn’t make a move to leave, though he did make a good point, it was her job to help the other children. She was just too pissed off to allow him to tell her what to do.

“Yet, you’re still here and engaging in this little…squabble.” His smirk still stayed present as he watched her anger grow a bit more, he didn’t know why he took so much satisfaction from getting a rise out of her. Maybe it was because she was so much of a goody-two shoes, or maybe it was the fact that Meera was so easy to read and easy to rile up. Max didn’t blame Meera for her anger because he knew his comments were out of line especially the one where he essentially said she’d drive him to drink. Now, that particular comment had been an exaggeration, she annoyed him sure but it wasn’t nearly as much as a few others did. He honestly didn’t know why he said that, and if the comment had stung Meera didn’t let it show. “for someone who claims to hate me and not care about what I say, you sure have a habit of being baited by my words.” His eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Or maybe, I just haven’t met the right women.” It was her next words that causes his eyes to narrow, the term ‘heartless bastard’ and undeserving of a soulmate did sting and he wish he knew why. Granted, Max had no desire to meet his own but to be told that he was underserving of one sent a flash of anger through him. His hazel orbs were as cold as glaciers as he took a step in her direction, his gaze not once moving from hers as he let her feel the full weight of it. “Well, don’t you have me all figured out? You’re right, I’m all of those things and I can’t imagine anything worse than meeting my soulmate. I pray the universe everyday that I don’t have one. But I can see how someone as naive and foolish as you would buy into such a ridiculous concept. However, I wish you luck when you find yours, your going to need it.” He didn’t mean it specifically for her but he knew every fool who fell this bullshit would need all the luck they could get. He scoffed, holding back his glare when she called him useless, which made him to snap in return but he held himself back because Emmett was beside him. “So, you’ve helped him now and it looks like he’s almost done. You can run along now, unless you want to stay and have this riveting conversation.” Sarcasm lacing his voice.

Meera couldn’t seem to stop glaring at Max. The nerves of him, talking down to her and then smirking like that. He looked so gleeful, as though he’d won the heated exchange between them. She wasn’t going to allow that to happen however, not by a long shot. If he thought that she would simply concede defeat, he had another thing coming. She didn’t get to where she is today by allowing people to walk all over her; she fought for what she wanted, and in this case, she wanted to grate at his nerves as much as he did hers. “Who’s squabbling? I’m here volunteering my time. Unlike you… Can’t even help your nephew with his pumpkin.” Her words dripped with sarcasm, her eyes rolling at the male. For all his smugness and condescension, she couldn’t help but notice how devilishly handsome his appearance was. If only he had been better mannered, perhaps he could be someone she might like. Unfortunately, although he was good to look at, he had the temperament of a child. Hell, even Axel behaved better than him. “Don’t think too highly of yourself, Maxwell Kincaid. I would never be baited by your words.” She shot back, pretty sure that smoke was coming out of her ears by now.

There was no missing the fury burning behind those piercing hazel eyes. He was staring into her brown hues for so long, she felt like he was trying to cast a hex on her. Instead of looking away however, she simply laughed. It was so obvious that she had hit a nerve. Should she feel guilty? Yes. Did she? No. He deserved every word. If he hadn’t thrown those awful accusations at her, she wouldn’t have to retaliate. So in her eyes, he had it coming. Her head tilted a little, eyes glinting with unadulterated pleasure as she continued to focus on him. Before too long, even more harsh words spilled from his lips. Each sentence sounding more vicious than the previous one. She wanted to lash out then, not through words, but actually physically strike the man. He’d gone way too far. He had no right calling her naive, nor did he have to wish her luck with her soulmate. He didn’t know her, had never tried to get to know her. His opinion shouldn’t matter, yet the sharp stabbing sensation was present anyway. “A manwhore like you would never understand the concept of soulmates. But of course, you don’t have a soul, now do you, Maxwell? Why would you believe in something that does not concern you?–Don’t worry about me, I’m fully ready to meet mine and pray to God, he is nothing like you.” This time, her tone was sweet, almost like she was talking to someone who was mentally impaired. Again, the arrogant male couldn’t simply let things go, he just had to have the last word. She of course wasn’t going to let him have it. “I think I’ll stay here, thanks. I’m not here for you anyway. I’m here for Emmett.” She retorted with a roll of her eyes before shifting her gaze on the younger boy.

“Is that all you have?” He asked raising a brow at her, “I hate to burst your bubble there but my inability to help my nephew with something as juvenile as pumpkin carving is not the insult your hoping it is.” It was safe to Max was a bit amused at how worked up she seemed to get with his every word and as much as she tried to deny it, he could see how easily his words grated on her. Why else would she be reacting in a such a way? It never failed to please him at how easily he could piss her off as it was the same sort of response she induced him. He supposed he didn’t expect her to just stand there and not retaliate to his insults, if the past was any indication, Meera never backed down. It was then for a split second her saw her a slight shift in her eyes, but it was gone before Max could fully read it into or even identify it. As much as he hated to admit it, no matter how annoying and tiresome he found her the twinge of attraction he felt for her the very first time still lingered, much to his annoyance. It was a shame that a woman he found so insanely attractive more than he ever had in the past towards any woman, this one came with an annoying personality. “Says the woman who still standing here and retaliating, if you weren’t being baited you’d have walked away awhile ago. You’ll never admit it but I’m starting to think you like arguing with me…” Was he being incredibly arrogant? Most definitely if only to rile her up further, especially now that she couldn’t even hide her fury as he saw her eyes blazing so intently that for a moment he wondered if she’d actually reach out and slap him.

Max quickly to school his expression but he was sure Meera saw the fury behind his own as her words. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why her words of him not deserving a soulmate hit so close to home, especially when in some way she wasn’t wrong. He’d long realized he wasn’t the type to have a relationship especially after he fucked his longest one with Vera. More so, that this woman wasn’t even wrong, he was a heartless bastard which is why he had hoped no poor soul which get stuck with him. However, he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of letting her words get to him, even if he had them coming after what he hurled in her direction. So, quickly masked his anger replaced it with yet another blank but cold look as he stared at the brunette. “Again, it’s really not a insult because you’re right and it would do you well to remember that Meera.” he shrugged, “Let’s hope for your sake he’s not, but if he is, what will you do then Meera?” The CEO was genuinely curious to know how she’d respond if she met someone similar to him. Or perhaps it would shatter her illusion of soulmates in general and wipe out those romantic notions in her mind, dare he say it might even do her some good. His parents had been soulmates and once a upon time he’d seen them be in love but that all changed as quickly as their fame came to rise. Nothing lasted forever, soulmates or not. So, when Meera despite to stick around them, he shot her annoyed look but once more kept his mask of indifference present. “Suit yourself but I see Emmett’s already occupied himself.” His nephew was currently huddled over his pumpkin, adding on some touches and Max was delighted to see Emmett enjoying himself. As much as he hated to admit, he did seem like Meera for someone unfathomable reason. Because the moment he heard Meera announce she would stick around, he could see the little boy’s ears perk up and then grin at the woman. “For someone who claims to hate me you sure love spending time with me, don’t use Emmett as an excuse.” He couldn’t help but throw in.

Meera wasn’t going to pay Maxwell anymore attention, it would give him too much satisfaction to see her react, but in the same breath, it was hard for her not to want to form a retort, especially when he called carving pumpkins juvenile. What kind of asshole does that? He was here with his nephew, and yet he had the cheek to call the activity that Emmett enjoyed juvenile. That definitely garnered a response, a fiery one at that. Her hues shifted back to him, brows raising and although she was smiling at him, there was no mistaking the ire she was displaying. “Only someone heartless would call an activity like this one juvenile. Let me ask you a question, Maxwell. Why are you here with Emmett? Do you even care that he deserves to have a good Halloween? Or are you only doing this out of familial obligation?” At this point, she didn’t really want to know his answer. All she saw was a man who only cared about himself. That had to be why he was always on her case, forever trying to get a rise out of her. It was annoying to say the least. “Oh, please… You really think your words affected me? That’s sweet…” She cooed at the end, flashing the male a soft look, but it was only for a fleeting moment, before long, she was back to her cold self again. “Perhaps it’s you who likes arguing with me since you surround yourself with mindless bimbos who would easily fall for your charm.” She didn’t like arguing with anyone, so his observation was moot and had nothing to do with her. Not many got to see her true self, she normally kept that part locked away, and only brought her out around people that she was comfortable with, namely Atlas and Axel. Maxwell didn’t deserve that part of her. She didn’t see the point in being nice to someone who found the need to goad her at every meeting.

Although Maxwell claimed that he wasn’t hurt by her harsh response, she didn’t buy it, not even for a minute. She could tell that she’d hit a nerve and she felt a little bad for having uttered those things. They may be the truth, but she wasn’t a monster and she didn’t make it her life’s mission to upset people. He just seemed to be special. “Keep telling yourself, Maxwell, if it’ll help you sleep at night.” His next question had her pausing, a look of horror displayed across her features. What if he was right and the person who completed her was exactly like him? God, that would be awful! To have to live with someone who’s ego was the size of Africa. But maybe it didn’t have to be all bad. After all, if her soulmate was someone like Maxwell, there had to be other redeeming qualities in him. Fate wouldn’t pair her up with a complete tool, right? “I’m sure whoever I end up with would be a million times better than you. I’m not going to worry.” She finally answered him, though her tone was a little off, it sounded like she wasn’t too sure of her statement. Damn Maxwell for making her like this. Meera wasn’t the type to second guess herself, yet he seemed to hold that power over her. A part of her wanted to lash out at him again, but for now, she chose silence. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t seem to understand the concept. The man was relentless. Do not react, Meera. This is what he wants. For a time, she was successful at keeping her composure, putting her focus on Emmett. But then came his response, adding fuel to the fire that she thought had been dowsed by her successful attempts at ignoring him. “Do you even hear yourself anymore?” She questioned with an amused smile. “You’re here, in a public place with your nephew. How does my being here compute to me liking being around you.” She wanted to call him an idiot, but she had more class than to hurl the word at him. Instead, she said, “It looks to me, like you’re the one who’s stalking me. Do you have a thing for me, Maxwell? Is my rejection too much for your ego to handle?”

Max could see that his remark of calling pumpkin carving juvenile had irked her greatly, seeing the ire rise further in her deep dark pools. Truth was he didn’t think of it as that, he actually didn’t have any specific thoughts regarding the activity but riling Meera up yet again was too good of a chance to pass up. “If you’re trying to hurt my feels you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.” He paused deliberately taking a few seconds longer to answer because he knew it would only annoy the brunette further. His eyes, however, did narrow when she accused him of only bringing Emmett out of obligation because what did she know of his relationship with the little boy? Not that he planned on enlightening her on it, but who the hell was she to spew such nonsense? “It’s really not your business, now is it? If you’re really dying to know you can ask Emmett yourself.” He told her flatly, he had nothing to prove to Meera or anyone else as Emmett knew just how much his uncle loved him. Emmett’s situation was about the same as Max’s, absent parents but unlike Max, his nephew wouldn’t grow up missing these experiences and Max was more than happy to be able to give that to the little boy. No one was aware of this, but the nephew spent most of his time with Max who made sure he was well looked after by someone from his family rather than a nanny. He shot Meera an amused look at the bimbo comment but let out a soft snort, “I find it interesting that you spent so much time worrying about my life. Are you sure you’re not a fan? As for your question, yeah I do like arguing with you because I love pissing you off.” He told her rather blankly, “Plus, no one gives back the way you do.” Was that a compliment? Perhaps.

He could see from the sharp look in her eyes that Meera didn’t believe his words for a second but he could care less. However, Max was still a bit annoyed himself for reacting to her words to begin with, never had he cared what others thought about him. He prided himself in never letting other’s words affect with in anyway, so why the hell had he reacted when Meera said them? It was then he caught the look of sheer horror on her features at his passing comment of her soulmate and he couldn’t help but smirk, not even caring if she saw it. That look on her face was absolutely priceless but Max had not expected her to react in such a way. “Yes, let’s hope so but with that look on your face, your words don’t sound very confident. Take my words with a grain of salt, Meera, there is no such thing as soulmates. It’s all fairytale’s meant to console little girls, I pegged you to a lot wiser than that but alas I was wrong.” By now he had genuinely run of out his quote of patience of the day for Meera and he had hoped she would leave but no, she stayed put. Max was surprised and momentarily caught off guard because Meera never stuck around longer than she needed to around him. In fact, he’d even go as far as to assume that unlike him, Meera absolutely despised him. Max wasn’t her biggest man but he didn’t hate her simply because he didn’t know her well enough. The difference was that he gave Meera a hard time and let her believed her hated her when really she just annoyed him. “Well, you have a few other children who are probably waiting on you while your here hovering around my nephew who seems to be doing just fine without your help.” He told her with a pointed look before snorting, “Stalking you? Don’t flatter yourself, sure I do want to bang you but that’s all I want for you, Meera. If you call that having a thing for you.” He sneered those words, “Unless you’ve changed your mind on that front? In which case, I’m ready when you are.” This time he had a devilish on his lips, ensuring Emmett wasn’t paying attention to them before taking a few steps closer to her. “My ego is bruised from your rejection but nothing you can’t fix.” He said rather suggestively if only to see her reaction.

Meera could only roll her eyes at Max. The gull of the man for thinking that she would worry about his life. She didn’t care about him, could care less what he did with his time. He could rot in hell for all she cared. The only thing that seemed to irk her was his ability to get under her skin. He did it so easily. With a single word, he could make her blood boil. It left her wondering that maybe she’d given him too much credit. “Only you would think that someone who loathes you could be a fan.” came her response along with an eyeroll, clearly unamused with his ridiculous conclusion. She would never be a fan of such an arrogant man, his presence alone unnerved her and not in a good way either. Simply being around him could enrage the saintliest of people. “Of course you do. Even a dunce could see that you love pissing me off. Does it make you feel better about your pathetic self, Maxwell?” Meera posed the question while she arched a perfectly shaped brow. Harsh words seemed to be the only thing they were capable of exchanging. It made her feel horrible, because she wasn’t this person; a sharp tongued monster who would purposely inflict pain on people’s feelings. Even so, she couldn’t stop. The more he baited, the more she felt the need to lash out. His next remark left her a little taken aback. Did he really just say that? It sounded like he was complimenting her for her ability to debate with him. To say that she was surprised was an understatement.

Before she could comment however, he’d thrown yet another curveball. She swore, her head would start spinning before long, the man was relentless. “Only you could be that daft, Maxwell. Are you trying to tell me that the millions of people who’d proven the validity of soulmates were wrong all along?” Did she hesitate earlier, sure she did, but she only did that because the thought of having a soulmate that was exactly like him horrified her. Still, it didn’t mean she didn’t believe in the concept of having a better half. She didn’t pay him any mind after that, figuring that he would give up and walk away eventually. He couldn’t do that however. Instead, his words were bolder, he didn’t even pause when he told her that he wanted to sleep with her. The pig. She couldn’t gauge what he did next, the easy way he moved into her personal space, those hazel hues of his gleaming with unadulterated rage, or was it passion that she saw? Whatever it was, it took her breath away. No one has gazed upon her with such hunger that she felt her knees growing weak. It took a moment for her to compose herself and when she did, she inched forward, her irises locking with his. They were so close, she could feel his breath against her skin. “Wouldn’t you like that, Maxwell… For me to jump into bed with you,” she gently placed her right hand onto his stubbled cheek, her voice sounded more like a hum as she spoke to him in a sensual tone, “and rock your world, make you feel so good, you’ll forget why you were angry with me in the first place?” Once the last word was uttered, she gave his cheek a pat and stood back, “Too bad, that will never happen. Not even if you were the last man on earth.” The fire in her voice was back now, and her hues blazed with ire. “Well, this has been fun, but I do have other children to help, so have a good Halloween, Maxwell. I hope I don’t have to run into you again anytime soon.” With a parting roll of her eyes, she left his side and headed to the other side to help out another little child that needed her assistance.

He could see her ire rising even strongly which made his arrogant smirk more pronounced, she really was so easy to rile up. How did she not see this? He shrugged at her question, “I stand by earlier statement, for someone who does claim to loathe me you sure love bickering with me. But that’s okay, you keep denying it. I’m a billionaire with a company that’s dominating the media industry. I feel good about myself regardless, Princess.” He sneered the nickname, essentially mocking her with it, “It just so happens pissing you off has become a favorite hobby, really, you make it so easy. You could chose to walk away but yet you still stand here which tells me enough.” The words were cocky but what else was he to make of her lingering presence? While he had no idea why Meera stuck around and let herself be baited by her words, he wondered why he was always sought her out. Anytime she was near him or in the same room as him, it was as if his body was aware Meera was in his orbit. What the hell did that mean? Max didn’t know and he preferred not to focus on that startling thought. “Who’s to say they will last forever? Surely, you’re not that naive.” He countered back, he didn’t deny that there were many soulmates out there who were happy. The problem wasn’t now, it was later, what guarantee is there that your soulmate would stick around?

Max kept his hazel hues on her mildly curious to see how she’d respond to his advances now which were sincere. He still wanted to bang her, he hated himself for wanting her but he couldn’t deny the tantalizing thought of what it would be like to be tangled in the sheets with her. If he didn’t know any better he could swear he saw her respond as this was the closest they’d ever been. There was only a few inches remaining between them and the urge to close the distance and kiss her was so strong he had to fight his desire because he didn’t intended to start anything with her, not now or ever. Still, her perfume still filled his nostrils and he had to once more right the urge to lean in and skim his nose along her delicate skin. What he also hadn’t expect was for her to turn the tables on him. Max stood silently staring as she finally recovered and began responding, his body reacting quite strongly to the sensual tone her voice had taken on as well as her words. He could almost feel his cock twitch in his felt and bit back his groan of frustration. Then she placed her soft hand on his cheek and he stared at her with darkened eyes, letting the slight hunger he felt for her reflect in his gaze. But god, that hand on his skin, he could feel goosebumps rising on his skin at her delicate touch which wasn’t anything big but he had no idea how to describe what it did to him. More so, what horrified him was how he enjoyed that brief touch. When she dropped her hand the spell broke and he snorted, “Keep telling yourself that but my offer remains open you know where to find if you change your mind, Princess .” He bit out to her, still not helping himself as he once more gave her an blatant invitation to his bed. He watched her walk away with a mixture of annoyance and amusement before he turned back to Emmett.

COMPLETE

#maera01 #meera x max

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klancin-with-myself · 6 years

Text

shut your mouth and let my body talk

Summary: They all have their ways of decompressing from the stresses of the universe. Keith's vice just so happens to keep Pidge in a state of blissful contentment.

Rating: Explicit

keith eats pidge’s pussy.

read here or on AO3.

It had taken five years in space for Keith to find his outlet. His teammates - his family - had found theirs long ago. Some of them had never been made to find them, like Lance; yoga could be done anywhere, at any time. Oftentimes, the blue paladin would retreat to his room or the observation deck and spend hours contorting his body into all kinds of positions that had Keith wondering if Lance would disable his joints at will. Hunk channeled his emotions into either baking or meticulously ripping apart any mechanical thing he came across, figuring out what made it run, and then putting it back together with a higher functionality than what he found it with.

Shiro had taken to reading. Pidge had invented an overlay that could be placed over the Altean novels, translating the words into any Terran language. Shiro didn’t even bother trying to hide how giddy he was to be able to read a book again, and frequently holed himself up in the castleship’s library, curling up in a squashy chair and reading for hours on end, a content smile on his face.

Pidge’s escapes tended to shift. She hadn’t done much relaxing before she’d found Matt. She’d always been working on some new algorithm to find him, or on some new upgrade for the Green Lion. After being reunited with Matt, she relaxed considerably, playing video games with him, building things, working on the other lions (while remembering to sleep adequately, because even Pidge wasn’t immune to Matt’s weaponized puppy eyes).

At first, Keith’s only respite from the new, harsh reality he’d been thrust into was training. Methodically destroying the training droids (Allura gave him hell for it, but was secretly pleased when Pidge and Hunk rebuilt them into something more challenging), running laps, honing his skills. At first, it had been enough.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

When he finally settled on something, it ended up shifting the dynamic of how the rest of the team spent their down time. Not drastically, of course. Not in any way that meant that the others couldn’t do what they wanted. They just had to, maybe, stay away from the general vicinity of Keith’s bedroom. Or put ear plugs in.

Keith’s mental retreat was more of a vice.

More than a vice, it was an addiction.

He craved it. Became temperamental without it. Begged if he were denied it. Consumed it like a man starved, let it consume him like a wave of lava rolling down the slope of a volcano.

It had the side effect of once again shifting Pidge’s outlet. Shaped it from an outlet into a release, a spout, a fountain. Shaped indents into her thighs where his head fit perfectly into as she clamped down around him. Shaped the back of her neck into an arch as she let her body fly from the bed as Keith indulged.

He supposed he should feel a little guilty. The one escape he found that allowed the weight of the universe to melt away also involved pulling Pidge away from the things that she wanted to do. (They’d tried it, once, while she was working - she’d burned herself with a soldering iron and spent the rest of the day with a weird Altean gel pack strapped to her hand.) She’d reassured him, however, multiple times, that having her mind go numb and white and fuzzy at the edges was incredibly therapeutic, and had often led to further breakthroughs with her projects. All he had to do was glance at her, heat in his eyes, a quick tongue on his lip, and she would let him lead her away.

And that’s exactly what he’d done today. He found her in the lounge, lazily typing away on her laptop. She wore one of his t-shirts, loose on her slender frame, and a pair of long shorts that stopped just below her knees. She was barefoot, her toes wriggling or scrunching up every so often as her brilliant mind worked through whatever she was trying to figure out. Keith stood by the door, arms folded, watching her fingers fly over the keys, smirking at the way her brow crinkled and smoothed. He stepped into the lounge after another moment of soaking in the wild mess of her hair, which hadn’t changed much in five years. Pidge’s eyes flicked up at the sound of his footsteps, and a smirk formed on her own lips, her typing slowing down subconsciously.

Keith knelt down, his knee resting on the back of the inset couch, and when Pidge looked up at him, he pushed a hand into her hair and pulled their lips together roughly, allowing the kiss to fall tender as she opened up to him. His kiss was a question as much as it was a greeting, a request and a plea, and an expression of the emotions he was so bad at giving words to. Pidge lifted her hands from her laptop, grasping his wrist and cupping his jaw, kissing him back with equal amounts of fervor. She wasn’t so great with words either, and Keith loved her all the more for it. When he finally pulled back, his breath was heavy and damp and needy, and Pidge huffed a laugh against his lips.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed softly.

She’d never told him no, never sent him away, and yet his relief every time was a cool wave washing over him and soothing away his anxiety. She slid her laptop off her legs and slipped her small hand into his, and he pulled her up to her feet easily. She moved fluidly, stepping up onto the floor and into his arms in one easy motion. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his lips to hers again, wishing not for the first time that he could simply toss her down and take her here on the couch, the walk to his room seeming unbearable in its distance. Pidge hummed against his mouth, her lips curving into a smirk as she pressed her body against his and felt his growing erection pressing against her abdomen through their clothes. She broke the kiss with a nip to his lower lip, drawing in a sharp breath through her nose.

“You shaved. Like, ten minutes ago,” she said, mildly accusatory. Keith cocked a smirk at her, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

“I can be sweet,” he murmured, rubbing his smooth cheek against hers. Pidge chuckled, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Fucking sap,” she said. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, let’s go.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the shell of her ear, tongue darting out to curl around it, winning him a hiss of pleasure. “I’m hungry.”

Pidge made a noise, half indignant and half aroused, and Keith grinned at her, his eyes crinkling in barely concealed delight. He squeezed her hand and drew her backward, leading her down to his bedroom.

He barely resisted the urge to cram the two of them into a utility closet as they passed it, though he did fail at resisting the tempting heat of her mouth, pressing her against a wall more than once, hiking her legs up and grinding against her core as his tongue plundered her mouth, a taste of what he’d be doing to other orifices very soon. Pidge indulged him, her laughter each time cutting off in a groan as his kiss sent shockwaves down her body, lighting her arousal on fire and driving her patience away. Pidge was growling into his mouth, hands fisted in his shirt, shoving him back toward his door when they finally reached it. One of Keith’s hands flew back to smack the control panel, sending the door sliding open and them stumbling in. She took care of closing the door, leaning back against it to catch her breath as Keith stared at her with a predatory look in his violet eyes, panting harshly. Smirking at him, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down her hips, revealing slim thighs -

Keith snarled, hands shooting out to grip her hips to hold her still. Pidge continued to smirk up at him, devious little shit that she was, and he touched his forehead to hers with a groan. His hands gripped the sides of her neck gently, and he kissed her, rough and wet and brief. He fell to his knees and he dragged his hands slowly down her body, palms pressing into her sides. His thumbs brushed across her breasts, and of course she wasn’t wearing a bra. Did underthings not exist in her wardrobe anymore? He groaned, burying his face into her hard stomach. His hands continued their trek down her body, squeezing her hips, scratching down her thighs. He pressed his palms down her legs, prickly with unshaven hair, kissing just below her navel, reverent and soft. He resisted the urge to tickle her ankles, drawing his hands back upward, his thumbs leading inward. He groaned again, cursing under his breath.

Her arousal shone on her thighs, shiny and slick and quickly driving away Keith’s threadbare self control. He grasped her left leg and hoisted it up, resting her foot on the little table by his door and baring her cunt to him. He leaned in, kissing her mons and reveling in the full body shudder that coursed through her. Her folds were slick and only open from her leg being spread so far. He kissed her a little lower, and she canted her hips forward. It could have been a demand, but they both knew it for what it really was - encouragement, an offering. Beneath all of that, a gentle request for Keith to relax and enjoy himself, to cast off the burden of the universe and simply be a man with human desires and cravings. As his thumbs found her outer labia, gently opening her to him, Keith thought that that was his favourite part about the way they crashed together. That she did all of this for him. That she wanted him to let go and indulge and relax. Wanted him to use her body for his own escape from reality.

So he treated her like a temple, pressing a devout, sacrilegious kiss to the living statue of her clit, basking in the way she hummed contentedly, rolling her hips forward again. He kissed her again, then rocked back on the balls of his feet and stood, dragging her against him and kissing her soundly. She lifted her arms and rested them on his shoulders as she kissed him back, the curve of a smile never really leaving her lips. Keith’s hands flirted down her body and he gave her pert ass a squeeze, smirking into the kiss as she jolted against him. He bent his knees and adjusted his grip to just below her rear, easily hefting her off her feet and holding her against him. She huffed into his mouth, amused, clamping her legs around his waist and burying her fingers into his soft black hair.

Keith turned and stepped toward his bed, lowering her down onto it gently. Her legs didn’t release him, loosening only enough to allow him to shift onto the bed and hover over her. Pidge rubbed at his sides with her legs, purposefully dragging his shirt up. He twisted his arms back and yanked the shirt over his head, not missing the damp spot on the front of it where her crotch had pressed against him, and if he breathed in a little deeper while he was dragging the shirt over his head, well, she either didn’t notice or didn’t say anything. He flipped his shirt away from him and fell back onto Pidge’s lips, drawn to her like a magnet, secretly pleased with the way her eyes raked over him before fluttering shut in bliss. Pidge was a fantastic kisser, her edges softening as her tongue slipped against his, and Keith felt like he could kiss her for hours. They did, sometimes. In this moment, that’s not what he wanted. He couldn’t wait anymore, even if he tried, even if he were commanded by Shiro in his best Disappointed Voice. Desire burned brighter than the red of his lion, than the red of his blood. His head was pounding and he knew the only cure for it rested between her legs.

Keith left her lips, smirking at her shortness of breath. He kissed at her throat and gently squeezed her breasts through the shirt of his that she still wore. He’d leave it on this time, he thought. She looked amazing in it, the way it hung on her slender frame, how it draped to one side to expose her collarbone. It was a good look for her, and the sight of her in his shirt with her legs spread for him would have made him weak in the knees if he hadn’t already been on them. He slid back down, kneeling on the floor, dragging her hips to the edge of the bed. Pidge dutifully draped her thighs over his shoulders, her fingers tightening and relaxing around the bedsheets in anticipation.

He sat back and settled his eyes on the juncture of her thighs, the lips of her cunt covered in enough slick that it caused even the soft, short hair there to shine. His cock throbbed in his pants as he caught her scent, an intoxicating musk that had his mind reeling. He leaned in, peppering kisses along the insides of her thighs as he went, smiling as she hummed happily. He finally came face to face with her hole, he sighed, his hot breath rolling over her lips. He opened his mouth, pressed the flat of his tongue against her slit, and drew it from her perineum to her clit. Pidge moaned, long and low and satisfied, and Keith’s cock let him know just how attractive that noise was.

Using both thumbs again, he pried her open, gently easing her lips apart until her tight little gash was exposed to him. Hot, he knew it would be so hot when he touched his tongue to it, and it glistened with slick and twitched with arousal. He groaned, burying his face into her thigh.

“You’re killing me, Pidge,” he mumbled, nipping at her soft flesh. Before she could so much as hum in response, he sought her hole again, pressing his mouth against her fully, rolling his tongue across her clit and sucking on it gently. She cried out, hands flung out beside her, arching from the bed at his sudden onslaught. He gentled his tongue, curling it around her clit once more before delving lower. His mouth covered her slit completely, tongue working her open, sucking on her folds and soaking his face in her slick. He nudged at her clit with his nose and then pressed his tongue into her passage, effectively burying his face into her cunt.

She tasted like nothing he could have imagined before, and sweeter than anything he’d had since. Tangy and milky if he delved deep enough, slippery and sweet as it dripped from her folds. If he worked her up enough, it slipped down her thighs like an early morning rainfall, sticking to her thighs and making everything a damp mess that he was all too happy to take responsibility for and clean up. He wanted her musky, heady scent in his nose, wanted her honey smeared across his face like warpaint. Keith could live and die with his mouth on her cunt and never regret a moment of it. She was refreshing even as she left him gasping for a another drink, crawling toward the oasis between her legs.

He hummed, content to work his mouth so slowly against her slit, sucking on her folds and her clit intermittently, rolling his tongue over her and dipping it in and out. One of his hands crept up her stomach to rest at the base of her ribcage, thrilling at the feeling of her stomach and chest rising and falling at an increasingly rapid pace. His free hand fell to where his mouth was, using two fingers to spread her apart further. They slipped almost immediately, sliding through her juices and settling between her inner and outer labia. Above him, Pidge moaned, canting her hips down and grinding Keith’s mouth against her further. It was his turn to moan, then, tilting his head to the side, not dissimilar to when he kissed her mouth, his tongue flicking rapidly over her clit. She gasped, one of her hands flying up to grasp at the one pressed to her chest. Her fingers curled around his hand, pressing her nails into his palm, and his chest tightened with affection, momentarily pausing to kiss her folds.

Keith pulled his face back, feeling the cooler air hit the slick on his cheeks and grinning. He moved his fingers up, pinching her clit between them and rolling it, violet eyes trained on her as her back arched off the bed again. She released his hand, grasping at the bedsheets again in a vain attempt at grounding herself. He let his fingers trail down her opening just enough for him to slide them into her slick channel. Pidge whimpered, an open mouth whine that Keith wanted to hear more of. He drew his fingers out and then drove them back in, twisting them as he went.

“Oh,” she moaned, her voice an octave higher than it normally was. Tight and high sounded good on her, Keith had decided long ago. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, twisting and curling them, his eyes heavy lidded and his cock painfully hard in his pants at the sounds that spilled from her lips. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Harder.”

He obliged almost immediately, never able to resist any demand she made. He began to piston his fingers in and out of her cunt, his lips descending on her again, tongue fluttering over her clit. Her little gasps and moans grew louder, unhindered and unashamed, having long since lost any care for others hearing her. He pressed his lips around her clit, working his tongue over it at a furious pace. Saliva mixed with her juices, dripping onto the sheets below her hips. His fingers were making the most delightful, obscene noises as they pumped in and out. She was soaked, and with every withdraw of his fingers, a string of clear fluid connected them to her opening, drawing him back in as if it were elastic. Her whimpering grew louder, her breath hitching in her throat. She sat up suddenly, her legs tightening around his head, burying her fingers into his thick black hair.

“Don’t stop, I--” she demanded, cutting herself off with a guttural moan. She tugged on his hair almost painfully, but it only encouraged him, drove him to shove his fingers in harder, twist them more sharply, agitating her clit with his tongue until she fractured around him, shattering like glass. Her moans reached a fever pitch, loud and sharp as the walls of her cunt clamped down around his fingers. He moaned with her, eyes fluttering shut as he fucked her through her climax with his fingers, the tense and release of her walls drawing his fingers in like the vacuum of space. The sloppy, wet noises only intensified, and the whimpers of the last of Pidge’s orgasm went straight to his dick, which had been pulsing painfully in his pants the entire time. He moaned again, lapping plaintively at her cunt, easing his fingers to a slow drag as she came down from her high. He looked up at her through dark lashes, mouth still on her slit, his eyes narrow in amusement.

Pidge’s fingers were still buried in his hair, and she dragged him up by it and kissed him breathlessly. Her lips were dry from gasping, open mouthed and out of breath, but his own drenched lips more than made up for it. He pressed his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself in him. He wondered if she found her own fluids as intoxicating as he found them, thought maybe he didn’t want to share this sweet ambrosia even with her. Her legs were still on his shoulders (and her flexibility still kept him sweating) and she gently bumped them into the sides of his head. He opened his eyes and she had him snared again, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement and challenge.

“Again.”

It wasn’t a request.

Keith smirked against her lips. “Aren’t rotary phones still a thing?” Her legs tightened around his head and he squeezed the outside of her thighs playfully.

“I haven’t used a rotary phone in ages,” she said. He sunk back to his knees, his eyes not leaving hers as he leaned forward and dipped his tongue into her slit, licking at her fluids.

“Why not?” he asked coquettishly.

“I - ah, shit - have you,” she sighed. Keith grinned against her opening, kissing her folds. If his brain weren’t complete jelly later, he’d maybe try to articulate to her just how happy he was that he satisfied her enough that she didn’t feel the need to touch herself anymore. Try to impress to her that she made him feel the exact same way. He’d probably end up stuttering over his words, feeling them catch in his throat and sit there like a half swallowed pill. He was better with his actions, though, so he sealed his mouth over her cunt again, letting every swipe of his tongue tell her what she did to him. Pidge squirmed, crying out and bucking her hips, oversensitive, overstimulated, overwhelmed. Over everything, by the sound of it. Keith savoured every sound she made, every twitch of her body.

He slid two fingers back into her, and Pidge’s body accepted them easily, squelching noisily in her fluids. He curled his fingers and rotated them, the dirty, wet noises driving him wild. His own neglected cock throbbed in his pants; he thought briefly of releasing himself and wrapping a fist around his aching member, but the thought of deviating any attention away from the writhing, electric goddess in front of him seemed a cardinal sin. Keith suckled at her clit as he worked his fingers in and out of her, his room filling with slick noises and breathy, desperate moans.

“More,” Pidge gasped. He flicked his eyes back up at her - her face was completely obscured, thrown back into the bed, her chest heaving with every breath and whine. Her hands roamed the sheets, grasping and clawing at them, and her thighs shook upon his shoulders. He began to drive his fingers into her more forcefully than before, his knuckles bumping against her pelvic bone, her slick beginning to drip down his wrist. She cried out at the force he applied, and he nearly backed off but for knowing her so well, knowing that the particular noises she was making were only made when she was insensate with pleasure.

He wanted to put his lips back on her, but with the force he was using on her beautiful little cunt, he found that he had to adjust his angles. He crouched lower, angling his fingers upwards, allowing him to latch back onto her clit and work it feverishly with tongue and teeth and lips. When he began thrusting his fingers in again, resuming his vicious pace, Pidge shouted. She thrashed above him, her small hands grasping at nothing, the muscles in her legs tightening and clenching around his head.

“God - fuck - yes,” she babbled. “Yes, Keith, fuck.” Groaning loudly, Keith worked at her furiously, his jaw aching beautifully, his wrist borderline cramped, but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to, not when Pidge was sobbing out above him, when her fluids were sliding down his arm to drip from his elbow. The filthy, sodden noises coming from her cunt began to grow - they doubled, tripled until it sounded like he was was splashing in a tub of water. Pidge made a different noise, sounding nearly alarmed and confused for a brief moment before she cried out again, devastated by another orgasm.

Clear fluid burst from her cunt when Keith’s fingers withdrew; too shocked to stop, he pressed them back in and when he drew them back again, more fluid cascaded out of her, arcing over his fingers. He dipped his mouth back down to her, groaning, his eyelids shutting as jets of fluid spouted from her cunt and splashed across his face. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and with each pulse of her come on his face, each flutter of her inner walls around his fingers, his cock throbbed in his pants. His hips oscillated, thrusting against nothing. Pidge cried out, her voice hoarse and cracked, and another wave of come poured from her cunt like holy water over a sinner. Keith caught it in his mouth with a vulgar, sordid groan. He swallowed quickly and that incredible, clear nectar might as well have been liquid fire. Every pleasure receptor in his body lit up like she’d struck him with her bayard, and he cursed as she squirted on him again. He groaned loudly, his own hips thrusting, his cock pulsing and suddenly he was coming, untouched in his jeans. His thrusting fingers faltered as his abdomen clenched, and he sucked on her clit desperately.

The last weak spurt of her fluids trickled down his arm, and she whimpered, her legs trembling violently on his shoulders. His breath came in harsh, ragged pants, and he nuzzled against her inner thigh, smiling tiredly. Keith crawled up her body when he finally figured out how to use the muscles in his legs again. He hovered over her, looking upon her face and falling in love all over again. Her brown eyes were hazy and unfocused, her hair was tangled and wilder than ever from thrashing. Her face and neck were flushed, and if he pulled his shirt down, he’d find her chest splotched with red as well. Her lips were swollen from having bitten them, dry from her panting and screaming. He licked his lips and then covered her mouth with his own, kissing her sweetly and letting her taste herself on his tongue. Pidge kissed him lazily, one hand fumbling down to cup his cock. She smirked against his lips when she felt him soft and damp, and he pulled back, flushed and pouting.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sparky,” she murmured huskily. She grasped his head and kissed him again, surprising him again by finding the strength in her legs to wrap them around his waist, grinding her sodden core into the damp spot on his pants. Keith groaned into her mouth, cradling her face with his still wet hand. He felt his cock stirring again, and his mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Pidge dug her fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp with blunt nails. She loosened her legs around him and pulled back from the kiss, delight flickering in her eyes once again.

“Back to work, smart mouth.”

#shut up sammy #kidge #peith #keith #keith kogane #pidge #katie holt #pidge gunderson #sammy writes #fanfic #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #voltron fanfics

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cupcakemolotov · 7 years

Note

Time Travel + KC?

So sorry this took so long!!! Mentions of violence, gore, a tiny bit of angst.

When Bonnie Bennett had told her that time travel wasn’t a matter of moving forwards or backwards, but sideways, Caroline had laughed at her. The entire concept seemed impossible. One reality was more than enough. Bonnie had simply shaken her head, that familiar exasperation, and continued on with her little pet project.

Caroline had teased her occasionally, would sit on her back porch in Mystic Falls and debate the concept with her for hours.

“Somewhere there’s a me who actually likes Damon? Impossible.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and took a slow sip of her beer, skin flushed in the heat of a Virginia summer. “Probably. Although it’s probably more likely that there is a reality where Damon is less of an ass.”

Caroline snorted out a mouthful of beer. “You like Damon.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t realize how ridiculous he can be,” Bonnie said with a grin, handing her a napkin. “But it’s not every decision that branches, I think. Just the big ones.”

“Like what?”

Bonnie purses her lips. “Maybe you’re human.”

Caroline tipped her head back, stared up at the sunset. “That seems so strange.”

“Who knows?” Bonnie shrugged. “It’s just a theory. For all we know, certain events are set in stone and are bedrocks of a healthy universe.”

“Hey now,” Caroline protested, waving her beer. “That’s Batman logic, from the comics. Have you been holding out on me?”

Bonnie turned scarlet and spluttered. Caroline had teased her mercilessly, but all the while, a little thought had niggled at her. She’d shoved it to the side, refused to dwell on it. A promise she wasn’t certain she’d ever accept.

Caroline treasured that memory. The certainty of her friend that somewhere, things were different. Because for the last fifty years, everything had gone to hell.

Figuratively and literally.

Humanity had learned about vampires, about witches, and the war that knowledge had sparked was devastating. Too many people died. I’m the end, it was humanity that gained a foothold, and what was left of the community had gone deep into hiding.

“They’ll kill them eventually,” Bonnie had told her one fall day as they hid out in the caves of Caroline’s childhood. Mystic Falls smelled of blood and old fires, the woods scared by carnage the air still remembered.

“Who?”

Bonnie looked up from Elena’s coffin, her face tired. There was more white than black in her hair now, deep lines around Bonnie’s eyes and mouth that spoke of the decades they’d lived. She limped, on cold mornings, her movements hesitant and slow. In her coffin, Elena was still young, with no idea of the hellscape that awaited her.

They’d moved her early, and Bonnie had finagled just enough magic that she’d go undetected. Caroline wasn’t sure this was the future that Elena thought she’d wake too, the Salvatores missing, their childhood homes gone. But human Elena had a chance to thrive, in the end. Her humanity would protect her.

“The Originals.”

Caroline jerked, and swallowed hard while looking away. It was fall, the leaves brown and red, the occasional splash of yellow. There was little comforting here, the remains of multiple childhoods scattered around her. “Yes.”

No one knew when or how they’d gone missing. But it’d become clear when they’d never made a single appearance when New Orleans was ransacked, when humanity had started to win, they’d been taken before the first skirmish.

She’d die that the day they were killed. So would thousands of others. The witches and lone werewolves would be all that was left of the Supernatural legacy. The uncertainty of it, the cold knowledge that she couldn’t do anything about it, left dead a knot in her stomach.

Sometimes, Caroline wondered if she’d see her mom again.

“I’m sorry.”

Caroline turned to look at Bonnie then. “Why are you sorry?”

Her friend took a deep breath and looked up, eyes wet. “That this happened. That I can’t extend my life to help you fight anymore. For everything.”

“You’re not to blame for other people’s choices, Bon Bon. You’re my best friend. There isn’t anything to forgive.”

A sudden wind blew at Bonnie’s hair, and Caroline’s heart started to pound. Bonnie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Caroline tried to move, to warn Bonnie that this was too much magic, that the hunters would find them. But she couldn’t.

“I made promises too. Please don’t forget me.”

Oh, Bonnie.

It was her last coherent thought. There was a sensation like her bones melting, then everything melted sideways.

There was a hybrid watching her.

Caroline glanced down at her burner phone, the small hairs on the back of her neck tingling as she walked down the snow filled street. The world she’d found herself in had been a shock, and she was nowhere near finding her footing. Here, the war that had so decimated her life had raged, but instead of humanity, it was the Originals who had prevailed.

She hadn’t been surprised to hear stories of the atrocities committed by the Mikaelson’s. The ruthlessness. Whatever understanding of the universe she might have had previously no longer applied here. Humanity was in ruins, carefully cultivated and organized. There were pockets where resistance fighters still held territory, but those were diminishing every year.

Now, whose line you belonged too was everything. Vampires were at the top of the food chain, and it was a ruthless world, where your life was lived at the mercy of the Original who made you. Caroline had done everything she could to avoid letting anyone discover that she belonged to Klaus.

But hybrids were a problem. Whatever magic Klaus had bargained for with the witches, it was the hybrids who could suss out a line just by the scent of a vampire. More importantly, whoever a hybrid roamed, Klaus wasn’t far behind.

She needed to get out of the city.

She had been unable to figure out where the universe had changed. It was clear that Klaus had Elena, but Caroline was uncertain about her role. She’d found her grave, set prettily next to her mother’s, but that could have meant nothing.

Turning sharply into an alley, she froze. Heart leaping into her throat, lungs stuttering in her chest, she went absolutely still at the sight of Klaus. He was waiting for her, shoulder braced against the alley wall, eyes ringed in yellow.

“Hello, Caroline,” he drawled, smile a slow, dangerous blade. “That is what you go by, is it not?”

“Yes,” she said shortly, spine iron straight as he pushed off the wall and moved towards her. There was nothing welcoming in his expression, every instinct she had burning in warning. Klaus was angry, and she was the target.

“You’re a hard vampire to track down.” He said, tone nearly conversational. “I admit, when I received the first report of your existence, I expected you to come to me. Imagine my surprise when you didn’t.”

“Why would I?”

A hint of dimple left her stomach flipping, and then he was close enough to touch. Her fingers itched to reach for him, to confirm he was real. It’d been seventy years since she’d seen him, felt him, and she found that the monster she’d cultivated to survive craved his touch.

“Why? What other use would you have for this particular face?” Klaus queried, touch deceptively gentle as he dragged a single fingertip along her chin. “Tell me, where did you get it?”

The realization that not only had she known Klaus, that she likely was dead in this world, shook her. Cursing mentally, she pushed his hand away and set her chin stubbornly. “When did I die?”

His eyes flared, yellow taking over the blue entirely. Veins crawled beneath his eyes, and the double fangs that were such a threat sent a hot bolt of lust through her gut. Those feral eyes narrowed, and his head canted as he took a slow breath. She should have been embarrassed by the way she knew he could smell her unexpected arousal, but it was the slight hint of confusion that made her wary.

“A witch can mimic many things,” he nearly purred, gaze calculating and dangerous as he stepped so close her breasts brushed his chest. His hands cupped her jaw carefully, and she nearly shuddered at the danger in that delicate hold. “How she looked, how she sounded. The feel of her skin, but I’ve yet to find one who managed to mimic so accurately the smell of her arousal. Who are you?”

Caroline knew down to her bones, that if he didn’t like her answer, he’d kill her. But backing down wasn’t a choice. Her hands came up to grip his wrists, nails biting into his skin for all that she made no move to tug him away. “Did you know that Bonnie has a pet theory about time travel?”

She exhaled slowly at the way he went still and watchful, thumbs brushing her cheeks. She didn’t the caress as a sign of softening, if anything it heightened her alarm. As if he was indulging a need he couldn’t help, that he wouldn’t have the chance to sate again.

“Perhaps.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Stop being an ass.”

The sudden feeling of the brick wall against her spine nearly drove the the air from her lungs. The veneer of calmness was stripped from his face, and his smile was a terrible thing. “Caroline Forbes died warning me about a human uprising that planned on wiping out the supernatural. When I found the remains of her body, they’d cut her into pieces, burned her heart and left her head on a spike for me to find.”

Her vampire face crawled to the surface, and she bared her fangs. “We don’t know what happened to you in my world. You just disappeared.”

“Did I?” He taunted. “Why should I believe you?”

She growled, and he blocked her kick easily. Tossing her head, she glared. “Let go.”

“Wishing for death already?”

She head butted him and he snarled, teeth white and sharp near her throat. “Do you know what it’s like to die from a hybrid bite?”

She pressed her mouth against his ear, refusing to flinch at the threat. “Of course I do. Twice, in fact. I also know how hard I come with your teeth in my throat, my thigh.”

She’d have missed the slight shiver, had they not been locked so tightly together. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wiggled against him. “You want proof? Let me go.”

Caroline had almost expected the bite, the sharp burn of his teeth, and she bit her tongue viciously to hold back the whimper. His head lifted a moment later, and he looked nearly dazed, eyes slightly unfocused. She ignored the cool sting, the way her blood slid against her skin as she shoved him back.

Holding his eyes as they refocused, something she couldn’t read gathering behind his eyes, she yanked off her jacket, and let it fall to the floor as she reached for her hem. Yanking her shirt off, Caroline spun and showed him the lines of her back.

The scars no vampirism could heal.

There was a long silence, and the burn was starting to hurt when his fingertips grazed across her back. “What is this?”

She bit her lip at the ice in his voice. “I take it the human faction never got this far?”

A breath, then the breadth of his palm spread across the worse of the scarring. “No.”

“Bonnie thought magic could eventually counter it, but it would bring too much attention to try. Humanity found a way to damage vampires in a way they couldn’t immediately heal. Magic, we think. I got this one, rescuing Bonnie from a witch concentration camp.”

He spun her around with no warning, and Caroline hissed a complaint. His face was unreadable as he bit into his wrist and offered it to her. She took it with relief, but the sudden tightening of her chest at her first taste of him, the burning behind her eyes, caught her off guard. She swallowed frantically, until he pulled away. Then, carefully, he pushed her a bloody curl away from her chin.

“Tell me about the Bennett witches thoughts on timetravel.”

She licked away the taste of him from her lips, shuddered. “Sideways. She believes it’s a matter of going sideways.”

This time his hold was almost tender. Something wild behind his eyes. His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a need she’d never heard before.

“Caroline.”

Then he wrenched her neck, and her world went black.

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction

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