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You're working at Vought Tower in the HR department, thinking you'll be there forever. But then an unexpected email shows up summoning you for a job interview. For your dream job. As Soldier Boy's personal assistant. (Pretty much just an excuse for Soldier Boy smut.😏)
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader
Word Count: 2808
Warnings: Just dirty talk and smut 😁
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
You don’t know if you’re more nervous or excited. Maybe a little scared?
You are on your way to the top levels of Vought Tower for an interview. A completely unexpected interview for a job you didn’t even know existed. You were used to being a drone in the HR department, figuring you’d be there until you were old and grey and ready for retirement.
But an email you had received the day before had requested your presence to interview for the position of Personal Assistant to – wait for it – SOLDIER BOY. THE Soldier Boy, the superhero you had idolized – and fantasized about – for years now.
There was no information in the email to explain why you’d been selected for the interview – actually, there was no information except the time and place of the appointment. So here you were, getting off the elevator and walking down the hall to Soldier Boy’s private quarters.
You had barely slept last night, trying on practically everything in your closet until you finally settled on your favorite skirt, a short grey plaid with little pleats. You matched it with a pale lavender blouse made of some silky, clingy material that always made you feel rather elegant. (Maybe a little sexy, although you never thought of yourself that way.)
You knock on the door, barely breathing as you wait for an answer. You are trembling a little, your adrenaline probably through the roof, but you could hardly turn down an opportunity like this, so you scold yourself internally to suck it up.
Then he answers the door.
Your eyes travel up from his chest, slowly over the beard, and the lips (okay, they might have lingered just a bit there) and then to his eyes. They are shining with a touch of something you can’t name at the moment as a slow smile spreads across his face and he steps back to let you in.
You hand him the folder you’re carrying as he turns around, and he takes it with a raise of his eyebrow.
“What’s this?”
You clear your throat with a nervous smile. “My resume. I thought you might need it to see my qualifications.”
He smirks, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment before they begin a slow trek down your body. “Oh, you’re qualified. Or you wouldn’t be here.”
You wait for his eyes to raise back to yours before you speak again, a little unsure of yourself. “So – what would my duties be?”
He smiles briefly, gesturing towards an ornate desk of polished oak sitting in in a small, open office space to your right. “Make and keep track of my appointments. Answer the phone and take messages. Maybe run a few errands. Set up travel arrangements. The usual.”
“I can do that,” you answer, feeling slightly more confident. Your current job is more complicated than that.
He takes a step closer, and you’re mesmerized by the green of his eyes as he stares down at you. “Oh, I bet you can do a lot of things.” You’re not sure of what to say, but he goes on without waiting for a reply. “I’ve seen you around. And I’ve caught you watching me, haven’t I? I know I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Especially when you wear that skirt.” He nods at the skirt you’re wearing today, and your face grows warmer by the second at his attention.
“I – I – I didn’t mean to stare,” you stammer softly.
His voice is deep and warm, you can almost physically feel it, and the smile on his face clearly communicates his intentions. “Oh, don’t be shy, beautiful. I don’t mind a little hero worship. Someone like you stares at me, it just gets me hard.” You blush at that, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment, but he tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look into his eyes. The tip of his tongue teases at his upper lip before he puts his hand flat at the base of your throat. He moves forward, forcing you to move back as he advances until your back is against the wall.
That smile never shifts as he moves his fingers up to gently grip your jaw before bending to seal his lips over yours in a searing kiss. His free hand is braced against the wall next to your head, his body hot and firm as he moves closer. He raises his head slightly, his breath warm on your face as he nudges his nose against yours.
“You afraid of me, princess?”
You look into his eyes, their green irises growing dark and intense, and shake your head. “No. Just… you make me nervous.”
His smile widens into a grin. “No need to be nervous. I just want to make you feel good. Which will also make me feel good, of course.”
He could crush you with one hand.
But instead, his fingers gently and persistently brush across your nipples as he watches your face. His expression is slightly superior, his lips curved in an amused, enigmatic smile, watching your eyes flutter and your teeth bite at your lip as he teases you, the hard nubs easily visible even through your bra and blouse. He pinches them between his thumbs and forefingers, bending to kiss you again as you gasp, his tongue plunging between your lips as he growls softly.
He kisses you until you put your hands flat on his chest and push, desperate for air. He lets out a low chuckle, letting you catch your breath as he works the buttons of your blouse free and jerks it open. He stares at your breasts heaving beneath the purple lace bra you had put on that morning, letting you catch your breath.
“Sexy,” he rumbles, then impatiently tugs your blouse free from where it is tucked into your skirt and shoves it down the length of your arms to let it drop to the floor. He slips a hand behind your back and unclasps your bra with practiced hands, then slips it off as though he is unwrapping a gift.
“Mmmmm. Those tits could be on the cover of Playboy.” He just stares down at you, that lecherous gleam in his eyes, until he sees your shoulders twitch inward as you feel the strong urge to cover yourself. “No, no, don’t you hide, beautiful. You’ve got nothing to be shy about, believe me.”
He reaches for your hand, one eyebrow cocked authoritatively, and you give it to him, trembling a little with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. He leads you over to your desk, turning to plant one hip on it before he turns you around, pulling you back between his knees. He unfastens the button of your skirt and slides the zipper slowly down. “I think we should take this off, because I’d really like to see you wear it again.”
The fabric slips down the length of your legs, and he holds onto your hand to steady you as you step out of it. He bends to pick it up and lay it aside, then pulls you snug between his strong thighs. His fingers play along the top edge of your panties, purple lace to match your bra. “Love a girl who wears sexy underthings. So far this interview is going very well for you.”
You turn your head and look up at him. “This is the interview?”
A soft laugh rumbles in his chest. “Oh, I already knew you were fully qualified to be my assistant. But all work and no play – that’s not a good thing, is it? I like to play. And I think you are the perfect candidate for both.” He slowly slides his hand down until it is nestled between your thighs, gently massaging your pussy, stealing the air from your lungs as your head drops back against his chest. His hot breath ruffles your hair as he brings his lips close to your ear. “Feel good, princess?” His middle finger curls, pressing against your entrance as he hums in approval at the wetness already soaking through your panties, sending goosebumps skittering over your skin. “Does, doesn’t it? Imagine how much better it’ll be when you’re all full with my big…” He moved his hand up to rub at your clit, forcing a moan from your lips. “Hard…” He ruts against your ass, the constant friction on your clit making your body flush hot, and he whispers the last word into your ear - “Cock.”
He’s done playing with you with a barrier in the way. He pulls his hand back, then shoves it down into your panties, your mouth dropping open with a gasp as he glides his fingers through your folds. “Well, aren’t you all buttery down there. You like me talkin’ dirty to you?” He slips two fingers up inside you to the last knuckle, and you whine. “Or is it just exciting being all stripped down naked getting finger fucked in your new office?” He spoke in a low rumble next to your ear again, those thick fingers stroking into you. “I mean, what if somebody walked in here and saw us? Oooh, yes, you’re squeezing my fingers so hard, that excites you, doesn’t it? Dirty girl.”
He’s slipped an arm around your waist to hold you up, since your legs have completely given out. Your body is shaking, your lips pressed together to try and hold in the whimpers forced from your throat as he rubs relentlessly at the sweet spot inside you. He leans in and bites at your neck, jamming his fingers up deep and hard, and you feel as if you are exploding from the inside out.
You can’t smother the sound you make as you come, your cunt quivering and squeezing around his fingers, and he laughs softly. “That’s my girl, let’s get messy,” he growls, and he keeps stroking into you until you begin to relax, his arm the only thing keeping you from sinking to the floor.
His fingers pulling free from you send a shudder through your body. He puts them in his mouth and sucks them clean, humming with appreciation. He turns you around, looking down at you with that ever-present cocky gleam in his eyes as he runs a thumb across your bottom lip. “You still with me, princess?” You blink slowly and give him a wan smile, nodding. “Good girl,” he says, then moves aside and bends you over the polished surface, his hand flat on your back, guiding you, before hooking his fingers into the top of your panties. “I’ll buy you new ones, don’t worry,” he says, then rips the lace apart, tossing it aside. He rubs his palm over your ass, gives it a squeeze, then slips his hand between your thighs, rubbing a knuckle through your slit, front to back and up again to nudge at your sensitive clit, a gentle tease that makes you squirm. “You ready for me to fill you up, pretty girl?” His hand leaves you, the rustle of fabric and the sound of his zipper filling the silence before you feel him, hot and rigid, sliding through the slick between your thighs.
Your cunt clenches around nothing at his touch, and a soft whimper escapes your lips. That low chuckle sounds above you, and he reaches down to take hold of his cock and notch it into your entrance before pressing forward, slow but relentless. The stretch is intense, and when he bottoms out, you shakily exhale the breath you’d been holding.
His hands roam over your skin, from your shoulders slowly down your back, then settle possessively on your hips. “Such a sweet, tight little pussy.” He bends over you, his voice rumbling in your ear. “I’m gonna wreck it, baby girl.”
You wrap your fingertips around the edge of the desktop as he begins to move, his grip tight on your hips to hold you in place. Each thrust is hard and deep, pausing to relish the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him while he’s buried inside you. He grinds into you, pushing impossibly deeper, then pulls back and growls, “Hold on,” before thrusting into you, startling a muffled cry from your lips. He rails into you faster and faster, his grip on your hips bruising, and you clutch at the desk for dear life as you try to control the noises he drives from you with each powerful stroke.
The tension inside you is building to towering heights, and you stutter out his name in desperation, “S-S-Soldier Boyyyyy…” He laughs, shifting one hand underneath you to rub firm circles on your clit.
“Call me Ben – much easier to scream.”
And you do. You wail his name at the top of your lungs, not caring anymore if everyone in Vought Tower hears you. Your vision whites out for a moment, and you lose your grip on the desk, electric jolts of pleasure pulsing through you as Ben wraps an arm around your waist to lift you slightly as he lets himself go. His release fills you with heat, and you shudder as he finally slows, then stops, letting you down to sprawl on top of the desk again as he pulls himself free. He hikes his pants back into place and smooths a hand over your ass, giving it a little smack to startle a squeak from you.
He’s wearing a very self-satisfied grin as he lifts you to your feet, sweeping you into his arms and dropping down into the desk chair sitting nearby with you in his lap. “Gotta say, very impressed with your – uh – resume,” he teased as you looked up at him with a fuck-drunk smile.
“I got the job?”
He laughs. “You already had the job. Just wanted to check out the perks.”
You bite at your lip, your eyes fluttering closed as he squeezes at your breast and toys with your nipple. You sigh and look up at him with a languid smile. “I like the perks. Very good perks.”
He laughs softly. “That’s my girl.” He runs a finger across your lips, then bends his head to kiss you, stealing your power of speech for the next few minutes. He looks down at you with a cocky smirk as he lifts his head again, giving your nipple another tweak that shocks a funny little noise from you. “Ok, princess – I’ve gotta get going. Due at an event, have to give the masses a chance to meet their hero.” He lifts you to your feet and stands. “You can take a shower before you leave, if you want. Down the hall. And I’ll see you at nine in the morning.” He grins. “You could show up like this if you want. But it might draw some attention when you walk through the halls.”
A few weeks later -
The office cell phone rings, and your eyes fly open as you pant for air. Ben looks up from between your knees, his eyes shining with amusement. “Gonna answer that?” he asks, and you shoot a glare his way, but you can’t suppress a smile. Another deep breath to calm yourself - and the intense throbbing between your thighs – then you reach for the phone, finally answering on the fourth ring.
“You’ve reached the office of public relations for Soldier Boy – America’s first hero. How may I help you?” You listen to the voice on the other end of the call, a request for an interview. “Two o’clock?” You glance down at Ben, who tilts his head to look at the clock on the wall, then shakes his head, trailing his fingers up and down your inner thigh and grinning at your shiver. “I’m sorry, he’s not available then. Four?” This time he squints his eyes thoughtfully, then shrugs and nods. “Yes, that should work. Can you text the address to this number, please? Thank you, have a great day!”
“Great work under pressure,” he says with a quirk of his brow, “I’ll make a note of that for your job evaluation.” You shake your head at his smart-ass grin. “Now, where was I?” The vibrator buzzes back to life, and a jolt zips through you as Ben moves it back to your clit, making you stiffen up and then slump down into your chair. Your hips buck up but he holds you in place, his eyes glued to your pussy as your cunt clenches around nothing, his fingers teasing at your entrance and then raising to his lips as he tastes you. The phone begins to ring again, but he doesn’t stop. “Let it go to voice mail,” he orders, and you let out a low moan.
Summary: After a talk show interview where secrets are revealed, things get heated in your dressing room.
Pairing: Rockstar Bucky x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Rockstar AU.
See My Masterlist Here
A/N: Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee has me in a chokehold. So this was born from my tatted, horny daydreams.
"Who is your celebrity crush?" The host of the Midnight Show, Chet Smith asked you. Your newest movie was a box office hit, so you had to do every talk show to promote it. To say you were exhausted is an understatement. Luckily, this was your last stop for today. This show was the most fun because Chet brought out all the celebrity guests together. At least you weren't by yourself answering awkward questions.
The other guests were Red Star, the hottest rock band at the moment. They went viral while playing at their local bar. An audience member threw a bottle at their lead singer, Loki and the whole band jumped off stage to fight. They were offered a record deal the same week.
They are known for their wild videos on TikTok. Women everywhere love them. Currently, they are squeezed on the small sofa with you for the interview. Bucky Barnes, their drummer sat on one side of you, his tattoos drew you in like a moth to a flame. You were doing your best to not stare at him the whole time.
The Odinson brothers, Thor and Loki were on the other side. Loki is the lead singer, his long, dark curls and piercing stare made men and women weak in the knees. Thor plays guitar and he is the band's himbo. He's a charmer, flirting with you the whole interview. Steve Rogers is their bassist, an All-American guy to balance the others out. He plays the part well, flashing his megawatt smile at the live audience. But you can tell there is a darker side to him lurking under the surface.
You consider Chet's question; your PR team warned you about questions like this. "Well, I don't really have one." You shrug your shoulders, as the audience begs for a real answer. "Come on, darling. I know you're lying." Loki smirks, reaching his hand over Thor to rub your thigh.
"If I go first, will that help?" Steve asks, being the helpful guy that he is. You nod smiling shyly at him. "Okay, but when it's your turn you have to be honest." He winks at you, and the audience goes wild. He answers one of your costars. You promise to hook them up later. You feel your cheeks heating up, suddenly embarrassed that you have to answer now.
Chet repeats the question, and you bite your lip, pointing beside you to Bucky. "My celebrity crush is actually this guy." Bucky looks ecstatic, high fiving his band members as they congratulate him as if he has won an award. Thor's answer is a pretty pop star who he had been spotted out with twice already.
Loki's celebrity crush is a famous author whose upcoming book features a main male character who looks suspiciously like him. Dating rumors swirled even though there was no proof, except for a few flirty comments between them on Instagram. When it's Bucky's turn he says you, draping his heavily tattooed arm around you. You smile, grateful that he lied to save you from public humiliation. You were sure he was going to say someone who didn't look anything like you.
You're already dreading what the headlines tomorrow had in store. You and Bucky cuddled up on this sofa would no doubt be on every website. You should have lied, you tell yourself. People will start shipping you, his fans would be saying horrible things about you. You should have said anyone else.
Red Star took the stage to close the show. They were playing their latest number one hit. The audience was on their feet, some girls were crying as Loki's sultry voice came over the speakers. You watched Bucky closely. He played the drums like it was his life's purpose. He tossed the drumsticks in the air, pointing to you and winking as he caught them. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.
When their set was over, Bucky walked toward the dressing rooms with you, stopping outside yours. "Thanks for saying I was your celebrity crush back there. I would have been so embarrassed if you would have said somebody else." He flips his hair out of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me. It was the truth." You tell him goodbye, feeling awkward about the whole thing. You turn to go inside your dressing room to change into comfy clothes before you go back to the hotel.
Thick fingers catch your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "I wasn't ready to tell you bye." Bucky's lips curl, the light shines on his nose ring, bringing attention to his face. When you look into his shining blue eyes, you realize you don't want him to leave either. You grab the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him toward you. His mouth is on yours instantly. He presses you against your dressing room door, his large body covering yours.
You tangle your fingers in his long locks, needing him closer. Bucky hungrily kisses down your neck, while one hand travels under your dress. He rubs his thumb against your soaked panties. "All this for me?" You whine when he rubs harder, your clit making contact with the silky fabric. You move your hips, lost in the moment.
Voices echo down the hallway, bringing you out of your horny haze. "Bucky" You whisper, trying to warn him so he has time to stop before they see you. "Shh. I got you." He moves his body, so he is blocking you from view. His fingers are relentless, dipping inside your panties. His rough thumb rolls over your clit, you bury your face into his chest.
"Oh my God, It's Bucky! We are huge fans!" A woman's voice comes from behind him. You aren't brave enough to look, so you keep your face hidden. "Thanks guys. I love meeting fans. So, what's your favorite song?" You try to pinch him so he will get rid of them, but he continues talking about the world tour they are about to go on.
He enters you with two fingers, curling them as you moan out loud. The women look around him, finally noticing you. "Is she okay?" The second one asks. "Yeah, she's fine. She just ate too much so she has a stomachache." His fingers caress your inner walls, thumb rubbing in small circles. The band in your belly snaps, arousal flooding his hand as you come apart. Your legs shake, and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself. You clench your teeth to keep from making noise.
"You better get her inside; she can barely stand." One of the women says. They tell you both goodbye, as Bucky leads you inside your dressing room. "You did so good for me, but I need more." You look at him incredulously. He just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life in front of two strangers and that wasn't enough.
Your legs are still trembling as he lifts you onto the vanity. Your back hits the cool mirror as Bucky slides your panties down your legs. His hot breath tickles your thighs as he lowers his face, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. He takes his time, nipping your sensitive skin. He licks a lazy stripe up your center, avoiding where you need him most. His tongue sinks inside you, firm nose pressing against your clit.
You cry out, head falling back, knocking into the mirror behind you. It bangs against the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures hung there. Bucky drinks every drop of you, moaning as you writhe against his face. His plump lips fasten around your swollen nub, sucking and tugging like he can't get enough.
Your shaking legs close around his head, trapping him as you ride out your high. You cry his name, not caring who hears you. Bucky lifts you, slamming you against the wall. He holds you with one arm, the other works quickly to bring his pants down. His cock springs free, pink tip leaking. You swallow hard, intimidated by his size. "You're so big." You shiver, anticipation putting you on edge. He holds you, lining your bodies up.
"You can take it." He snaps his hips up, slamming into you. You try to adjust as he stretches you, wiggling around to see if the stinging will go away. When it starts feeling good, your arms wrap around his neck, holding on as he pulls out, leaving the tip in. He thrusts back into you, bottoming out. You have never felt so full, he fills every inch of you. He sets a steady rhythm, every part of him feels like it was made for you. You pulse around him, your back hitting against the wall as he sinks impossibly deeper.
Bucky bunches your dress around your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you're too weak from the explosive orgasms he already gave you. You hold onto him as he uses your body, his ragged breath on your neck brings forth the familiar pressure in your lower stomach.
"You're doing so good. Fuck! You take me so well." He praises, moving your thigh higher up his torso. He holds it in place, tilting his hips. The new angle makes your vision blur as he deliciously drags against a place you were sure was a myth until this very moment. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you shatter around him.
Bucky's thrusts grow brutal, taking what he needs from you. "Oh fuck" He moans as he spills inside you. For a moment, you just look at each other, trying to catch your breaths. Thankfully, he knows you can't stand on your own, so he carries you to the sofa. Your dress is still around your waist, arm over your eyes. You can already feel a dull ache in your stomach where he had been just moments ago.
"Do you mind?" Bucky asks, pointing his phone toward you. You narrow your eyes, not understanding. "You're just so fuckin' hot and I wanna remember this." He says, his meaning finally dawning on you. You nod, almost too tired to speak. He angles his phone camera toward you. "Fucking perfect." He examines the photo he just took before showing you.
Your hair is disheveled, giving you the appearance of being caught in a windstorm. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The top of your dress barely contains your breasts. The bottom is by your hips, your exposed cunt glistening with his cum. Bucky set the picture as his phone's background. You protested because you looked like a mess. Bucky stopped your arguing with a kiss. "You know what you look like?" He asks, smiling wide as he turned his phone screen toward you. "What?" You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling insecure. "Mine."
he will say their names any day of the week. all day. everyday. to anyone that will listen. but when put on the spot he chooses to keep that part of his life hidden. their names aren't for these viewers. these viewers are watching to see what happens at a mash unit during war, and he will do whatever it takes to never mix his home life with his life in korea. and you can see that trying to maintain that separation is starting to eat him up inside. the lines are becoming more and more blurry. the war is encroaching on him personally more than he was ready for, and the cracks are already starting to form.
Scott Pelley on Bari Weiss and His Last Days at ‘60 Minutes’ | The Interview
Lulu Garcia-Navarro writes: It’s hard to overstate the impact of “60 Minutes” on journalism. It’s the most-watched television-news program in America. Since its debut on CBS in 1968, it’s been the home of some of the most-storied broadcast journalists, from Mike Wallace and Ed Bradley to Lesley Stahl, Anderson Cooper and, until this past week, Scott Pelley.
Pelley, who was at the network for 37 years, including as White House correspondent, anchor of the “CBS Evening News” and “60 Minutes” correspondent, was fired after an explosive series of events and much turmoil over the past few years at CBS. These events include a controversial financial settlement with President Trump over a “60 Minutes” segment; the sale of the network to David Ellison; and the appointment of Bari Weiss, a former New York Times Opinion staffer and founder of The Free Press with no television-news experience, to lead CBS News.
Pelley’s firing came after Weiss dismissed several of his colleagues and hired a new “60 Minutes” boss, Nick Bilton, whom Pelley then clashed with in a staff meeting. Pelley, along with a number of other “60 Minutes” correspondents who were fired, have now accused Weiss of editorial interference and bias, charges that CBS News and Weiss deny.
In his first sit-down interview since he was fired, Pelley told me about the specific incident he viewed as interference, about his experiences at CBS News over the past weeks and months, and about what he hopes will come of this very tumultuous time at the network where he spent most of his career.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
