“Life Is Funny. If You Don’t Laugh, You’re In Trouble.” -Taylor Hawkins

RIP Matthew Perry

No one else could’ve played Chandler Bing🩵

Relative Dating Part Eighteen

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Pairing: Indiana Jones x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Welcome back to the latest garbage fire!

The artifact mentioned in this chapter is a fake one.

Warnings: Cursing; period-typical sexism; period-typical expectations of women; some angst; fluff

Summary: It’s been three years since she left him to spend his last night alone in Cairo—three years of living in New York; three years of half-heartedly wondering what might’ve been; and three years of wondering if she, wherever she is, thinks of him, too.

“I don’t want a lot of tears tomorrow.”

“Then don’t cry.” She gives him a sly look, even as his eyes narrow in irritation at her.

“I meant from you,” Indiana clarifies.

“I won’t cry. I’m not leaving Cairo empty-handed.”

“Right,” He drawls, eying the black Abyssinian kitten in the carrier in her hand.

“Isn’t she cute!”

“You name her?”

“Bastet, of course.”

“Of course.”

Keep reading

RIP Matthew Perry

R.I.P. Matthew

Matthew Langford Perry (August 19, 1969 - October 28, 2023)

drifting (6)

[cw!bucky barnes x female!reader]

summary: bucky saves the life of a woman when she’s buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is… or what he’s done.

how long can he hide?

warnings: angst. reader is hurting. bucky is an idiot* (*scared).

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: some of you called the angst coming... here it is, babes.

series masterlist

***

I’ve been compromised.

She sits on the porch, wrapped up in Bucky’s coat with the sheepskin lining, and his hat jammed over her ears. Her phone is propped up on the railing, so she can see if the notification pops up, but she can’t hold it in her hands anymore. She sent the message ten minutes ago–the chat indicated that he had seen it, but he isn’t responding. If she were out on any other mission, he would already have deployed emergency protocols and replied in seconds. He’s slacking.

But she’ll wait, because she can hardly look Bucky in the eye. He hasn’t been able to manage more than a grunt in response to her since she told him her theory about meeting in the Red Room. He just got up, put the kettle on, and smoked a cigarette in just his sweatpants and a light t-shirt. So she did the only thing she could think of (or at least the only thing that needed to happen, according to her training), and she reached out for help.

Steve was vague about what should happen if she and Bucky ever crossed paths, because that wasn’t on the agenda, so it’s not like there was some grand plan if he found out who she was working for. Usually in this case, she would take her principle out. That was so far from an option that the thought of having to kill him makes her dizzy. The frigid air helps her stay focused, but she can’t feel her fingers.

The feeling of Bucky’s hands on her face is still present on her tingling cheeks. The way he clutched at her, wordlessly begging it all not to be true.

The phone buzzes, finally. Steve is calling.

“Steve.”

“What happened?”

“He found my phone,” she admits, casually leaving out the part where he discovered it because he was in bed beside her.

“Okay. Are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m safe,” she scoffs. “He’s not a monster.”

“I’m just trying to assess–”

“I know how this works, Rogers.”

“I’m sorry it took a moment to get back to you. Fury has declared you AWOL. I just got out of a meeting—”

“Did you know?” she demands, and then she curses herself for not quelling the anger which is rapidly bubbling to the surface. The man on the other end of the phone sighs.

“--action will begin shortly for your recovery.”

“I don’t care about a fucking desertion designation–did you know that I knew him?”

“...Yes.”

She laughs wryly. “You sent me on recon knowing it might compromise us both–”

“Y/n, I sent you because you are the only person who has ever broken him out of his programming, and if he gets triggered, you’re his best chance to stay in control. I didn’t know that you didn’t remember.”

“That wasn’t in my assignment!”

“It was the worst case scenario.”

“I walked around that compound thinking I was being ridiculous. I slept with his photo next to my bed, feeling like such a creep–”

“Is he stable?”

“He is great, no thanks to you. Might never speak to me again after finding out I’ve been lying to him, but in my defense, I didn’t know how covert the lie was.”

She glances over her shoulder. Two clear blue eyes are watching her through the window. He doesn’t even try to play it off like he wasn’t listening in. She nods to the door. If he wants to listen, he might as well hear it all. She presses the speaker button as the front door opens. Bucky stands there stiffly, hands in his pockets.

“What do you remember?” Steve asks.

She sighs. “Not much. I think… I think they forced him to hurt me.”

Bucky huffs.

“That is consistent with what information Nat found.”

“I can’t believe that you sent me here without figuring out what I knew.” she peers at Bucky out of the corner of her eye. “Before I got to know him, I just thought I was feeding off your concern for him, but all this time I’ve been acting on muscle-memory–how well did I know Soldat?”

“Does he remember anything?”

“Some,” Bucky murmurs.

“Very little,” she translates. “I swear to god, Steve.”

“Is he there?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“No.”

“Alright. Just thought I heard something. Nat could be more specific–”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

Steve takes far too long to respond. Enough time that she looks up to Bucky in panic, but he nods, like reassurance. Like he’ll tell you, just give him a second. It occurs to her then that Bucky still knows Steve, and that’s why she’s here. Isn’t it? At least in part. But she isn’t ready for the breadth of this secret which Steve has unknowingly kept from her, and when he still doesn’t answer, even after Bucky holds up his hand to stay her, she sighs.

“Steve–”

“I don’t know everything,” Cap says softly. “But you knew him better than most people. Maybe even me.”

“You’re not serious…”

“Apparently when Nat found you, you were being treated for a stab wound in your abdomen, in a small hospital outside of Bucharest. You didn’t know how you got there, but you kept asking for him. You didn’t even recognize Nat at first. All the nurses could get out of you was ‘my love.’ She didn’t suspect his identity until she found reports about the Asset breaking his programming for a top-level trainee at the Red Room. He was pulled from active service and HYDRA discontinued his involvement in the Academy, but not before he was given the order to kill the woman to whom he showed preference.”

She runs a hand over her face. “Why don’t either of us remember? Steve–I went through six months of rehabilitation and I never had one flicker of a memory. I don’t even have a scar.”

“Self-preservation? I don’t know. Maybe it was too painful.”

Bucky is nowhere to be seen when a hot tear splashes on her hand. “More painful than finding out I loved someone I don’t even remember?” she murmurs, and she prays that Bucky isn’t listening around the corner. Super-soldier hearing is a plague on this conversation, in more ways than one.

“I’m sorry. I–Nat made it seem… you weren’t even going to meet him.”

“Unless he was triggered. Which it seems like you expected. Did neither of you think about what would happen to me?” She huffs. “

“Your mission, now–”

“I’ll make sure he’s safe, but I’m not doing it to make you feel better. You compromised me. If something goes wrong, worse than both of us having to cope with this, it’s on you. Okay? Great. I’m going to go try to persuade him to eat something. Be sure to send me more information about who’s coming after me so I know whether to use the pocket knife from World War 2 that Bucky loaned me–” her voice wavers on the name she hasn’t called him the entire time she’s been here– “or a fire poker, because my pack is at the bottom of this mountain with my gun. Which of those things do you think would be best against Iron Man, or whoever Fury’s about to send?”

“I’ll have a supply pack airdropped–”

“And compromise us more? The psychological damage was generous enough, but thanks anyway. I’ll contact you once we’re safe, but… I don’t know if you’ll see me again. I can’t speak for Bucky, but. I wouldn’t blame him for disappearing, too.”

“Y/n… you have every right to be upset, but there’s reason to assume that HYDRA is still looking for him. Let me help you.”

“You think I haven’t considered that? What’s going to happen if they find us together? Or did it slip your mind that they ordered him to kill me? I said I’d keep him safe. I can’t–I can’t talk to you anymore. Leave me alone. And Steve? Tell Natalia that she broke my heart.”

She hangs up the phone and tosses the basically indestructible thing onto the wooden slats. She puts her face in her hands and screams.

“Come inside.”

She starts. Bucky is back, at her side, hand outstretched like he’s going to touch her shoulder, but he stops just short. He stares at the ground.

“Please look at me,” she whispers. “Jamie–I’m so lost, here…”

“It’s supposed to snow,” he replies. He reaches for her phone, and hands it back.

“Are you angry?”

Bucky cards a hand through his hair. “Not with you.” When he looks at her finally, his eyes are glassy. Her heart is in her throat. “Come inside,” he asks again. His silvery fingers extend to her. She sets her hand in his, and just for a moment, he squeezes. Bucky tugs her behind him, and into the house. He leads her into the kitchen, and releases her. She lays his coat and hat on the back of a chair, and then pushes herself up onto the counter; Bucky has pulled a few things from the cabinet like rice, and some dried mushrooms, and there is water gently simmering on the stovetop. He puts the rice into the water like she taught him, and fits the lid on the pot, and sets the timer on his watch. He braces his hands against the oven and sighs.

“So.”

“Yeah.” She pulls her legs to her chest, and lays her cheek on her knee. “I–should I have let you talk with him?” The question comes out before she can stop it.

Bucky shakes his head. “No.”

“Should I have kept the call private–”

“Y/n–” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just… tell me. About your mission.”

“What it was meant to be…”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I work… with special forces most of the time,” she says, though that feels like an insufficient place to start the story. “Steve had been searching for any sign of you, after Insight. He got his pardon, so he had access to Shield’s data again, and there were rumors through the intel community that you were somewhere in the American West. But he couldn’t look into it himself without drawing Shield’s attention to you. Which is when Nat suggested… Me.” She closes her eyes, because she can’t stand to see him there, in arm’s reach, still as a statue.

“I read through about three boxes worth of files from Nat’s contacts about the Winter Soldier–mostly records of how you usually appeared when HYDRA had a new job for you, patterns of behavior. Like how often you went MIA after a job, and where they found you. Like–you would ditch your handlers on a busy train platform, and show up a hundred miles away working on a dock. Or one time, you hitched a ride on a box truck and they found you because you got into a bar fight. They always found you because something would happen, a–a fight or an accident that brought a little publicity. So. I built a profile.

“You weren’t intercepted by HYDRA after the destruction of Insight, so it was safe to assume they thought you were dead. Which meant you probably felt safe enough to go into more rural areas where people would notice you. There was a ping in Albuquerque’s small paper about a George Barnes being pulled over for driving without a license, in a stolen van, and–”

“That’s how you found me.”

She opens her eyes again, and he’s closer now, leaning his back against the counter beside her. He’s not watching her anymore, but she’d only have to breathe in a little deeper for her arm to brush against him.

“I tracked you from Santa Fe,” she confirms. “You couldn’t stay away from the draw of other people. I told Steve once, it was like you were so lonely that you wandered into a bar, only to realize that drunk men are the worst. He said that made sense, considering–well. That you often had to pull drunk bullies off of him. You stayed on my radar because you were doing the same for other strangers. I had a conversation with a bartender in Pueblo who described a tall man, blue eyes… longish brown hair… who ordered a whiskey he didn’t drink, and then took a guy down for touching a woman before the bouncer could even react.

“But then you headed into the mountains, and I could tell you were slowing down. I was days behind you, and then I saw you walking down the street in Breckenridge.”

He frowns. “Before I bought the truck.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

“I put a tracker on it when you were inside the guy’s house making the deal, so that’s how… yeah. But along the way, I was doing my best to erase your trail. Technically Shield owns that truck you abandoned five miles from here.”

Bucky nods. “I… I was hallucinating.”

“Hmm?” She touches his shoulder. He flinches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Thought I was being followed.”

Bucky leans into her. She grips his shoulder as if to say… I’m sorry for making it worse. I–I did this to you. He covers her hand with his own.

“I was going to ski down the back side of the mountain, and wait you out a while in town. I had gotten visual confirmation that you were here, and it seemed unlikely anybody else would find you out, if you stayed put. I did not know how dangerous it was to ski in the back country this time of year, given how much the temperature yo-yos. So. That’s the whole of it.”

“Other than… what you said. You had my picture.”

She bites her lip. “God. Um. Yeah, your enlistment photo. I carried it around with me like a war widow.” War widow–fuck. She presses her eyes closed. What a fucking horrible choice of words. She can’t think. Everything is cloudy. “Not remembering a thing.”

“That first time you woke me up, I was dreaming about it. What Soldat did to you. It’s the only thing I remember about it, but… I told you you were safe in the dream, that I wouldn’t hurt you. But he–I did.” He shakes his head like it might clear up his own foggy memory. “You don't remember anything else?”

“No,” she whispers. “I’m not even sure how… this–” she gestured between them– “would’ve happened in there. I was watched like a hawk.”

Bucky nods once.

“I’m sorry. For not telling you about Steve.”

He shrugs. “You were doing what you thought was right.”

“I know now, why I felt like I had to help you.”

He digests that for a moment, but what she wants is for him to respond like… I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’re here. But he doesn’t.

“You’re AWOL?”

She laughs painfully. “Yeah. Feels like I never got a chance to know what being safe felt like, it… it was supposed to be Nat who kept me safe, that was her promise to me when she brought me home. But I don’t know why I trusted her. Turns out I’ve only had one good thing which meant anything to me, and I don’t even remember. Why didn’t she tell me? God, Nat kept warning me not to let it go too far.”

She folds herself, pressing her forehead to her knees. It feels like a betrayal so deep that some little string inside her has been severed, and now she’s bleeding internally. For herself, and Natasha’s betrayal, and what happened with Bucky… in such recent history in her life, causing such ripples through her unconscious mind, and yet–with no memory to bring it into focus. She weeps.

“I wish I didn’t know,” she whispers. “I wish this was the first time I met you.”

Bucky’s hands find her shoulders, and he’s coaxing her feet down until he can stand between her knees. She curls her fingers into the front of his shirt–the very henley he loaned her when she first arrived. He doesn’t pull her closer and it feels like a rejection. Like he’s comforting her because he has a heart, and not because he wants to help her through it. This is not how he wakes her out of a bad dream. This is a stiff touch with no warmth in it. Still, she presses her forehead to his chest.

“You told him it was muscle memory.” His voice rumbles between his ribs.

“Yeah,” she laughs through thick emotion. “I just know you. I know you in a way that my body is adamant about, and I can’t explain it, it’s like this phantom pain every time I look at you, and it’s getting worse the longer I’m around you…” she trails off, forcing herself to look up at him. Her cheeks are hot, but she can’t help but babble. “Do you feel it, too? Am I crazy?”

“No.”

His eyes say otherwise. They’re glassy again, so blue that it hurts, and his mouth is twisted up like he can’t afford to say anything else or he’ll admit it. He shakes his head, and stands back from her, but she won’t let go of his shirt. Please don’t run, she pleads in her mind. I need you to help me figure out what’s real. Slowly, Bucky raises his hand and works her fingers free. He squeezes her hand. Then, he turns away.

She chokes back a rush of pain. The tears renew themselves, and she covers her mouth. She is nauseous. She pushes off the counter and runs into the bedroom–hardly making it into the washroom and kicking the door shut before her stomach heaves. She clutches the porcelain… and sobs. There’s nothing else to do but cry, because… this man who her whole body seems to reach for, who she loved in another lifetime, who every day seems to let her in a little bit more… She cries because the woman who was supposed to be her family kept this from her, and sent her on an assignment she was destined to fail. She can’t go home now, and this certainly can’t be it. The man who she’s spent two weeks with, held and been held by–he doesn’t want this. And there is a whole host of people about to come looking for them both. What is there for her, now?

And is this going to ruin The Hobbit for her? She chokes out a pained laugh at the stupid thought, wiping her mouth with a piece of tissue. She stands so she can wash her face, and she remembers her father’s words again. Not the ones about Gandalf, and powerful men. But what he said to her every night when he pulled her blankets up to her chin.

You’re loved, honey bee. By a lot of people. Everybody’s love looks a little different, but every form is good if it’s honest and kind.

She cries, and it’s all her body has left to give.

Later, her phone chimes. She checks it when the curiosity gets the best of her. It’s from Natasha, and it makes her blood go cold.

I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting you.

***

Bucky stirs the mushrooms into the rice, and takes his punishment like a stab to the stomach, as every sob of hers rips through him.

Listening to her demand answers over the phone from the only person Bucky has ever considered a friend, the pain in her voice–she was heartbroken. She was an innocent agent sent to help him, first of all. Innocent people shouldn’t get mixed up with Bucky Barnes. That’s how bad things happen.

She couldn’t be another tally he carved into the back cover of the book she loved so much.

“You’re not what I expected,” she had said, holding that book in her hands. He didn’t know that she meant it compared to the photograph she carried around, from when he was just a bright-eyed boy from Brooklyn. Bucky can’t even fathom it. It’s such a sweet thought, absolutely tainted by the way she’s been manipulated. On the other hand, the thought of her laying in a hospital begging for моя любовь… he came back to lucidity in Bucharest, while she pleaded for him. Wouldn’t he have remembered someone calling him that? Did they use that kind of language, or was their connection made from fleeting moments in that hellish school? Did she know his body the way his seemed to know hers, that first night he held her for warmth?

Wait... that's not what Steve said. He said 'my love.' From what dark corner is Bucky's brain pulling out 'моя любовь'? Shit.

He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s felt something for her before. Every fiber of his being is pulled towards her, like he breathes because she breathes. He wants to give in, and hold her while they both come to terms with the reality of their shared history. All of it, maybe even more. But if Steve is right, he was ordered to kill her, and that part of him still exists alongside the phantom pain of her. He can’t make any space in his heart for hope, knowing that it was ripped away from him before. If HYDRA took her from him once. They can do it again. Ten words, and he will be the one to kill her. Losing her again will kill him.

No more bedtime stories, or gentle touches to soothe her awake from a nightmare. No more pretending like this is something either of them were going to be able to keep.

Now that she’s healed, they have to part ways.

After this snowstorm. The weather band said to expect up to two feet. He can’t leave her unless he knows she’ll be safe. The roads are about to be even more encumbered. The only chance for a quick getaway once they’re clear is the truck five miles down the hill, like she said. If he leaves now, he strands her alone, and very likely dies himself from exposure. He sighs.

He doesn’t sleep that night, because she doesn’t come out to eat. She shuts the bedroom door, and locks it… he relieves himself outside, and he can’t help but feel like he deserves it. When she screams in her sleep, he tries to knock, to wake her up if nothing else, but she doesn’t stir from her whimpering episode. He could break the door, but then there wouldn’t be anywhere for her to go. To get away, and shield herself from him. He sits in the hallway until her voice gets hoarse, and her breathing turns soft again.

Bucky wants to be angry with her for hiding that she came on Steve Roger’s errand, but after the way she reamed Steve out, all he can muster is worry. Between three and four in the morning, he stares at the bedroom door, bouncing his knee anxiously. When was the last time you worried about another person, Barnes? And why did he tell her ‘no?’” She has that laser vision–she always sees right through him. He expects to go on about his life as if he hasn’t spent the last few weeks becoming addicted to reaching for her, and she will know, the whole time, that he is lying.

She centered him. He finally started feeling like he had some semblance of control over his mind again, all because of her. What the hell am I doing?

Protecting her, right?

And Steve… if the time comes where Bucky sees him again, as this relentless search proves is likely, he will have to answer for this. Because even though it’s best if he’s not with her, he’ll be damned if anyone gets away with hurting her. What was Steve thinking? Of all the stupid things that he had done, this was up there. Trying to find him–Bucky doesn’t want to be found, least of all by Steve Rogers. Then there’d be another person he used to care about who’d have to see what he has become. He’s spent this long trying not to think about the last time they met.

The door unlatches. Bucky jumps. She peers at him, frozen for a moment. Her eyelids are swollen from crying.

“Just getting some water. Excuse me–”

He gets up. “I’ll get it.”

“No. I–I don’t need your help. It’s okay.” She skirts around him, ducking under his arm.

Bucky follows her slowly; there’s not far to go in such a small cabin, but he jams his hands in his pockets and watches her fill a cup at the sink. She’s shaking. She must be starving. The rest of the rice is still in the pot, staying chilled on the porch. He can warm it up for her, easily.

“You should eat,” he murmurs.

“No thank you.” She knocks back the small cup’s worth of water, and refills it. She crosses towards the bedroom and he can’t help himself–Bucky reaches out and grabs her elbow. A bit of water sloshes out of the cup in her hand, but she doesn’t move to pull away. She doesn’t even look at him.

“‘M sorry. That I don’t remember.”

“Hmm. If that were true… that you’re sorry… I think you’d let yourself try, now. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that you’ve been acting like you feel something. But. I can see that you don’t want to. I’ll get over it.”

She isn’t angry as she says it, and that makes it twice as cutting. She’s resigned to it. When she pulls her elbow free, Bucky feels like somehow he’s made everything worse. He’s hurt her, too. And even apologizing didn’t fix it.

Why does that feel so much worse than actually putting a knife in her belly?

***

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memories of midnight

summary || when Nick gets a hold of you, the encounter gets heated.

warnings || hate sex. dom! nick. dom/sub dynamics. bondage. unprotected sex. wall sex. missionary sex. spitting. petname (kitten). possessive nick. kidnapping. mentions of past encounters. pining. PWP. — MINORS DNI

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

this is the first time I’ve written for him, I hope you like this! ;)

“What am I doing here?” You asked as you tried wiggling out of your bound hands. “Take a wild guess!” Nick smirked and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face.

“You and that smart mouth of yours. I swear to god I’m gonna break it the moment I’m out of this!” You tried twisting the rope on your hands, but it was a little too tight.

“Oh kitten, we both know you’d much rather kiss me.” His voice was suddenly deep with lust and it was clear that he was loving every second that you struggled in the ropes.

“Do not fucking call me that!” You shouted as you tried getting up on the fluffy bed. You weren’t exactly where you’d expected to wake up after getting kidnapped.

It was a luxurious hotel room rather than a dilapidated basement. And your kidnapper was none other than your old friend and colleague, Nick Fowler.

You were on an undercover mission tonight and had consumed a drink not realising it was laced with sleeping pills. Because the next thing you remembered was being in this posh bed with your hands tied.

“Awww.. there’s no need to pretend here. I know how much you loved that name as you bounced on my cock.” You clenched your jaw as memories of your past flashed through your head.

Even though it was highly forbidden and would’ve risked your careers, you and Nick had fucked in the past, more than once. You had even started liking him, but he went rogue.

“Okay. What do you want?” You asked in a business like tone. He had kidnapped you meant that he wanted something, most probably information. “What I want is… you.”

You were taken aback for a moment before shaking yourself and coming back in the moment. “What?” You asked in a bewildered tone.

He walked closer to you and you were too lost in his blue eyes to react anything. He traced your cheek with his pointer finger and bent down to whisper in your ear, “I said, I want you.”

You blinked up at him for a moment before sucking your head forward with force. You were just about to crunch his nose, but he was just as quick as you, if not more.

He quickly blocked out your blow with his hands just in time. He pushed you behind until your back hit the wall and he held you there with his body.

Taking your bound hands, he held them above your face while his other hand curled around your neck slightly choking you.

“You should be thankful to me. I fucking saved your life.” Your eyes went to his lips for a moment before looking straight into his eyes. You knew you shouldn’t be turned on at the moment, but you couldn’t help aroused.

The dominance he was radiating was making you wet between your legs and damn, he was looking absolutely ravishing in the blue suit he was wearing.

“What do you mean?” You gritted your teeth as you asked. Though you knew you’d lost the war, you weren’t going to lose the battle.

“If anyone else would’ve found you, you’d be dead by now. But I’m giving you another chance. Join me!” There was just something about his eyes that you couldn’t look away.

But what caught you off guard was the need burning in this eyes. He was desperate. You were pretty sure you could feel his hard cock nudging you at this point, at least you weren’t alone.

“I’m never going to join you, you fucking traitor!” You nearly spat in his face and his grip on your hands and throat tightened. You whimpered at the increase in the pressure, and you knew you’d lost this too.

“You like this, don’t you? You love the way I take control, but don’t worry kitten, I won’t harm you.” You were already a squirming mess by the time he kissed you.

You stilled with shock the moment his lips crashed upon yours. Nick fucked his tongue into your open mouth before you started kissing him back.

You wanted him. No one else made you feel the way he did. You couldn’t point out what it was about him, but just knew Nick was made to ruin you.

You were kissing each other as if you hated each other and at the same time you couldn’t live without each other. And this feeling was more addictive than any drug.

You whimpered in nick’s mouth as his hand left your hands and directly cupped your core. He rubbed you through your jeans and you tried grinding down as much as you could.

“You want this so bad. Like a fucking kitten in heat. No one else does it like me, isn’t it? You need me!” His words were making you shake with need.

“Say it!” He demanded when you stayed silent. “I… I need you Nick. Please!” He smiled as you finally gave in. “That’s my good girl.”

The very next minute, he was tearing your clothes. He squeezed and warmed every inch of your precious body revealed your him.

“You’re so wet for me. I didn’t take you for such a filthy little kitten that would be such a slut.” He took you by surprised when he quickly turned your around.

Your face pressed into the wall and as you tried pushing back, Nick’s body was pressed back into you. You could feel his hands open his belt and trousers.

You hissed with surprise as he laid a spank on your ass before pressing his thick cock between your folds. He rubbed it around, gathering wetness before pushing the head in.

You rested your head on the cold wall as you felt him fill you up thick inch by inch. He was much gentler than you’d expected him to be tonight.

“We could have this everyday. Just think about it.” He whispered in your ear when you moaned as he bottomed out. “If you think I’m going to give up my job because of your dick, then boy, you’re so wrong.”

The very next second, his hand was back on your throat as he started ramming up into you. All his previous gentle tone gone as he thrusted up into you hard.

“You know I love it when you bite, kitten…” the room was filled with the sound of your panting and the sound of skin slapping. “… because then I get to tame it out of you.”

His hand slightly squeezed your throat and your mouth fell open into the dirty ‘o’ face. Nick nipped at your earlobe and neck while muttering pure filth into your ear.

He inserted two of his fingers into your pliant mouth. But you decided to be a little more bratty and sunk your teeth into them, not hard enough to hurt just enough to make him realise that you could bite.

You whined as he pulled out his cock and your pussy clenched on air. You tried chasing the friction with your hips and tsked at the gesture. “Such a desperate needy kitten.”

Picking you up, he laid you down on your back on the floor. The fine carpet dug into back, but you didn’t care. He was still very much dressed in his suit and you were getting off on the power imbalance.

“You’ve forgotten your place kitten.” This time, he entered you in a single hard stroke and you choked on your spit.

“Gotta show you who you belong to.” His hand once again found your neck and you arched to give him a better hold. “Look at that. Submitting to me just as you should.”

He squeezed your jaw and you opened it obediently. He spit into your open mouth and you stared at him with wide eyes. “Swallow.” And swallow you did.

His hips were rocking into yours just right and his cock was hitting all the perfect spots. Your looped up your tied hands around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

He kissed you like a thirsty man finding an oasis. It was wet and deep and it felt much different than anything you had shared before. It felt real.

“Nick…” you were close now and all you needed was a little push, you just didn’t know what. “Come with me!” He whispered to you like a sacred text on a dark night. “I’ll give you everything.”

Suddenly, you wanted to join him. You wanted to be with him and only him, no one else. No other thing mattered in your life at that very second except him.

But you didn’t say anything. You knew somewhere in your mind that you’d regret everything you’d say now. So you just laid back and took it as he pounded into you.

Nick looked at you with longing and want. It was as if he knew only you could complete him, and it was the same the other way around. But then he said the word you never thought he’d say. “Please…”

That small please out of his mouth was all that you needed to tip over the edge of pleasure. You writhed beneath him as you came harder than you ever had before.

That please was almost like a love confession and you knew you weren’t going to forget it, ever. You weren’t just his, he was yours too.

Nick came soon after you as he felt your walls gripping him tight. His hips snapped up into you in a frenzy before he came deep inside you.

Neither of you moved from your place even after you both came down from the high. You stared into his eyes as he idly tangled his fingers in your hair.

You were at an odd sort of peace and in the warm embrace of Nick’s arms, you didn’t realise when you fell asleep.

~~~

Nick yawned as he got up from his sleep. He had slept better than he had in a long time as he slept with the knowledge that you are wrapped up in his arms. Or were.

Because when he opened his eyes, you were nowhere in the room. The bed was still warm and your scent was still in the air, that meant you hadn’t gone far.

He smiled to himself as he recalled the last night. He could see it on your face as you considered joining him for a minute. And that was all he needed.

He knew the thought would ruminate in your head and soon it would be the only thing you thought of. And the next time he had you, you would he his.

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