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gojorgeous · 9 months

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"business or pleasure?"

pairing: gojo x fem!reader summary: the gojo clan decides it’s time to secure an heir… and you’re the lucky woman selected for the job… content: HEAVY breeding, arranged marriage, language, praise, dacryphilia, p->v, fingering, mating press, a lil’ blood (if you squint), pet names, implied multiple rounds, gojo just generally being a menace, no established relationship, reader and gojo literally just met, reader is literally there for the purpose of getting pregnant, positive pregnancy test at the end, ideas of women as baby incubators :x, consent king gojo. wc: 3.7k a/n: I HAVE RETURNED!!! Hey!!!!!! Long time no see, babes. I was looking at my account and I haven’t posted a fic in *cough* TWO YEARS. There is simply no way that’s real 😭 Anyway, I’ve returned with something slightly different: A Gojo fic. You’re welcome. Mwah. Also, please send messages I miss y'all. happy new year bbs. and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

It’s only your third time in Japan. The first had been to visit family friends when you were eight, the second for a girls’ trip after you graduated college. You liked it. Tokyo was bright and busy and full of shops and things to do. The countryside always offered beauty and peace. But this third time was different. No shopping, no temples, no amusement parks. You were here for business, not pleasure.

You run a finger along the edge of a mahogany bookshelf. Your feet are killing you, a flick of your ankles tossing your heels across the room. Your nose wrinkles when you land on a particular title. The Art of War? Interesting choice… You scan the other books, and your brows rise when you find a strange combination of academics, young adult, manga, and high fantasy? A multi-genre reader, then…

You absentmindedly rub at the arch of your foot, pushing out the ache as best you can. A day so full of stress has left you weary. Your mother hadn’t stopped hovering until the moment you’d escaped into your car, a new husband on your arm.

You sigh. You could still hear the shower running along with said husband humming loudly to a tune you didn’t recognize. At least your groom wasn’t shy.

A glance toward the bed has your brows raising. Were those… squishmallows? One looked like a shark, the other like a… sushi? You press your lips together, avoiding a laugh he would surely hear. You make your way to the mattress, sighing when you finally get to sit. You pull the sushi into your arms, hugging the pillow to your chest, but it no longer seemed so funny anymore. You had bigger things to think about. Your legs press together in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. All the way from America you’d come to marry the Gojo heir. It had been a rushed arrangement. Apparently, the Gojo clan had finally put their foot down and decided their heir should finally get to the business of making another heir. There’d been a search far and wide for the best match and somehow, they’d settled on you. An accomplished sorcerer yourself and abilities in your blood that only strengthened those of the Gojo line, you’d been an suitable pick. It didn’t hurt that you were young, healthy, and (upon a trip to a renowned fertility clinic) proven to be very fertile.

Your parents had been oh-so eager to accept the Gojo clan’s proposition. The Gojo heir’s power hadn’t been matched in nearly 400 years. Any and every family would jump at the opportunity to be tied to them, especially through marriage and heirs. You were surprised you’d been chosen considering all of the options there must have been.

Satoru seemed… fine, you thought. You hadn’t had much time to talk with him privately. The first time you’d met had been on a phone call with both of your sets of parents present and the next had been at the altar. At one point in the night he’d asked a waiter to refill your wine glass and he’d been a rather good dancer. Other than that, you’d been pulled apart at all odds and ends until you’d come back here: his apartment.

You’d expected something a little more lavish for your wedding night, especially considering the spectacle that your wedding had been. Ice sculptures, thousand dollar bouquets, and diamond encrusted wedding rings had turned to an elegantly decorated bachelor pad. A glance around revealed a space that was obviously lived in, with odd mixes of $10,000 dollar chairs and… squishmallows.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, eyes peeling over the half-moons of your nails and the heavy gems that now sit on the fourth finger of your left hand. They are a weight you feel the pressure of. A pressure to live up to expectations, to produce a much-desired product.

A door opens down the hall and you realize the pounding of water and the lilting of a hum has ceased. Your husband is done with his shower.

A few seconds later he reveals himself, prancing down the hallway and into his bedroom like it’s just another Tuesday and not his wedding night. A plush blue towel is slung low around his waist and from the rivulets of water running all over his body you judge that he hadn’t even taken the time to properly dry off. Not that you mind.

You’d known your new husband was beautiful but you’d never imagined he’d be so… so goddamn seductive.

Washboard abs, toned arms, sculpted back, wet hair and icy eyes… he was the image of a god.

“Sorry for making you wait. I really needed that.”

Gojo prods at his temples, eyes squished shut in what looked like a moment of pain. You’d heard of this problem from the clan. He hadn’t worn his blindfold all day for the sake of the wedding. It was no wonder the effects were catching up with him.

“No problem.”

A small smile reveals just a few blinding teeth and you could swear your vision went out for just a moment.

“You hungry?”

You arch a brow. The man had eaten two full plates and practically half the cake not yet an hour ago.

“Can’t say that I am.”

“Hm.”

He nods and you watch as he plucks a stray candy off his bedside table, tossing the wrapper to the floor.

“So, uh-” You watch the butterscotch bulge in his cheek. “You really wanna do this?”

You glance at your half-naked husband who is practically a walking temptation. You take a breath. He’s standing so casually, as if this is a normal conversation to be having and not something life-altering.

“You don’t?” you ask.

All that gets you is a shit-eating grin.

“Never said that.”

You can’t help the smirk that crawls across your lips.

“Well, we might as well get it over with, no?”

Another flash of pearly whites.

“Get it over with, hm?”

You miss his meaning, pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread.

“It shouldn’t take much effort. I’m on so many fertility meds you could probably spit on me and I’d get pregnant.”

You pick at the thread a little more, biting your lip when you realize it’s one of those strands that’s infinite.

“That so?”

You jolt when a speck of wetness lands on your cheek. A quick glance reveals a fuzzy blue towel far too close for comfort. A half-naked Gojo is a whole lot closer than he’d been just seconds ago. How is he so quiet?

Blue eyes bore into yours, water dripping down white strands and onto your skin. He’s so damn tall. He has your neck craned all the way back just to meet his gaze.

“Yes.” You swallow. “It was part of our prenup.”

Dazed. You’re absolutely dazed.

“Well, we probably shouldn’t risk breaking a legally binding contract, hm?”

Closer. He’s coming closer. Too close.

You lean back, scooting yourself up the bed in a feeble attempt to get a little more space, your emotional support sushi tumbling to the floor. He follows right after you.

Something primal thrusts through your veins at the sight of a man, sopping wet and smirking, crawling after you, some mix of teasing and pure drive hidden in his eyes. Gojo doesn’t stop, not until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Close. Too close.

You’d thought he would have dried a bit by now, but water still slicks off his skin and hair, showering you lightly. You shiver and your husband notices. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you get a breath of the sweetness of butterscotch and mint toothpaste.

“You say stop,” he breathes, “and we stop.”

He leans closer, so close you can smell the eucalyptus and myrrh of his shampoo, the musk of his body wash, the candied sweetness of his breath. Those piercing blue eyes flit to your lips and back up again.

A breath, a pause.

“Stop?” he asks. His eyes are piercing.

You shake your head.

“Go.”

Lips, teeth, tongue. All of it hits you at once. For a moment you’re too shocked to respond, but then his weight is leaning on you and his hand is on your waist and his mouth tastes like candy and- and then you’re kissing him back.

A heavy hand digs into the flesh of your waist and your hands find a patch of damp white hair to tangle in.

He tastes good- too good and when a deft hand guides you down to the mattress you start to think that this whole baby-making business might not be so bad after all.

Teeth knock, tongues touch, and you are on the edge of what would have been a particularly throaty moan when he pulls away.

His attention shifts elsewhere, kisses trailing down your neck and hands straying to your hips.

“Have you-” a kiss to your collarbone. “Done this before?”

You freeze.

“What?”

Gojo raises his head a bit and the most irritating kind of smirk plays on his lips.

“Don’t know- thought maybe this was a virgin for your super rich husband kinda thing?”

You shove his head back down.

“Shut up.”

He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your skin.

“Okay, sp no need to go slow then…”

His lips continue their assault, brushing and grazing over your skin until it lifts with goosebumps. Your breaths come a little faster, a little heavier and you gasp when his hand curls beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Oh? What’s this?” His fingers brush against the garter that rests at the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had you agreed to wear the damn thing? You reach down, hoping to quickly rid yourself of the scrap of fabric before you can become oven more mortified. You’re just about to clamp down on it when Gojo catches your wrist. “Ah, ah. No need to be so hasty.” Your hand is easily pinned down to the mattress and, for some reason, you don’t fight it.

Your breath catches when your skirt lifts only for Gojo to dive beneath it without a second thought. You feel his teeth grazing across the skin of your thigh.

“Gojo-” you breathe, squirming.

His head reappears suddenly, another one of those mischievous grins gracing his lips. “Satoru when I’m about to be inside you, baby.”

He disappears again and you gasp and wiggle when you feel his tongue laving across the inside of your thigh.

His teeth graze you again, but this time they clamp down on the garter and you feel it slowly sliding across your skin, down, down, past your knee and eventually to your ankle where Satoru finally yanks it past your foot with a final tug.

You stare at him, wide eyed and lustful. That had to have been one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

Satoru plucks the garter from his teeth and dangles it in front of his eyes. It’s a white, lacy little thing that matches the shade of his hair. He’s grinning again when he slides it onto his wrist like a bracelet– no, like a trophy.

“Thanks for the present.” He’s still grinning, still staring, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “How attached are you to this dress?” he asks.

You blink, swallowing nervously, unable to break away from his gaze. It’s too strong, too mesmerizing. “Not… attached at all,” you manage. It’s true. Somebody else picked it out, and you’ve only been wearing it for about an hour– and it’s not like you can’t just buy a new one now with access to the Gojo bank accounts.

His grin somehow grows even wider. “Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.”

There’s a splitting sound and suddenly your dress is tearing straight down the middle. It’s slow and controlled and you wonder if he’s practiced at this or if his strength is just that regulated. You find yourself hoping it’s the latter.

The dress is ripped from your skin and you see it land somewhere across the room. You hear something shatter along with a thud, but Satoru seems anything but worried, so you ignore it.

You’re bare in just your undergarments, a lacy white set that you’re now half proud of and half embarrassed by.

Satoru whistles and his hands settle on your waist. “Damn, baby. Why’d you keep all this hidden for so long?”

You scoff, your confidence surging. You reach for him, grabbing a scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, Toru.”

The sound of the nickname on your lips makes him shiver and you smirk triumphantly.

“Hmm…” is all he says as his fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they’re dipping beneath the band of your panties. It’s somewhere between tortuous and ticklish and you squirm. “Ah, ah. Hold still for me, now.” He presses one hand to the valley between your breasts, holding you down as his other hand continues lower. When his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and presses down your back arches and your breath escapes.

He chuckles. “Little needy, aren’t you?” His thumb moves a little higher, grazing your clit, and you whimper.

With one deft movement he unclasps your bra, tossing it aside. You register for just a moment that your chest is now completely bare, but soon enough his mouth is closing around your nipple and all else is forgotten.

“S-Satoru!” you whisper. Your voice feels hoarse, even if it has no reason to be.

His thumb continues its assault between your thighs. “So wet already, baby…” He sounds ecstatic. The grin on his lips makes you whine. “Let’s get these out of the way…” Before you know it, you hear more tearing and then cold air hits your cunt. You cry out when Satoru’s thumb returns to its ministrations, but this time there’s no cloth barrier to dull the sensation. Your hands push out and your nails curl into his bare shoulders. You need him closer.

“Satoru…” you breathe. “Kiss me…”

That shit-eating grin returns, but he follows your command. “As my wife wishes.”

When lips meet yours it’s hot and messy. Your nails claw down his back and you’re sure you’re leaving marks. If he minds, he certainly doesn’t show it.

His thumb continues at your clit as a finger prods at your entrance. When he slides in slowly, you gasp. He murmurs something about you being so sensitive, and proceeds to quickly find that gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Before you know it he’s adding a second finger and soon your hips are rocking against his thrusts, meeting his pace as you chase your high.

“God, you’re so wet.” he whispers against your lips. True to his word, he’s been kissing you, never letting up in his attack on your mouth. “Bet you taste like fucking heaven.”

You whine, your hips stuttering against his hand. “G-Gonna… I’m–”

He grins again, and pulls away just enough to meet your gaze. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” Your eyes flutter shut, your head rolling back– “Nuh, uh. Keep those eyes open. Wanna see every second.”

Your breaths flutter and you whimper loudly, the sound bouncing on the walls. You’re not sure why you listen, why you fight to keep your eyes open, locked on him, but you do. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll pull away and leave you wanting… or maybe you just want to please him.

You feel your muscles clenching in your stomach, hear the sloppy sounds of Satoru’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, see the gleeful anticipation in his eyes. His thumb rubs a particularly delicious circle around your clit and you feel yourself thrown over the edge.

You can’t help but be loud. You hold his gaze the whole time, whimpering and whining his name as you gush all over his sheets. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching, holding him inside, desperate to be filled. You hear him panting above you, like watching has somehow taken his breath away.

“Good girl,” he whispers and you feel a second wave of pleasure ripple through you.

You feel weak by the time your orgasm leaves you. Your muscles are limp and your cunt is so sensitive that you flinch when Satoru removes his fingers. He brushes a tear from the corner of your eye and you watch as he brings his sopping fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices clean. He moans, a deep throaty sound, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. You watch his eyes roll back in his skull, watch his throat bob as he swallows. Your lips part at the sight.

His fingers fall from his mouth with a pop and his grin returns.

“Just like I thought,” he says. “Heaven.”

He’s back on you in a second, licking a stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. His hips slot between your own and a strong hands hook around the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. You whimper. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so completely and utterly exposed.

“On to the main event, yeah?” The twinkle in his eye has your heart racing even faster. His fingers catch the towel that is somehow still wrapped snugly around his waist. With one tug, it’s gone and your mouth is watering in anticipation.

Your jaw drops lower, if it’s even possible. He’s… huge. Long and pretty with veins that you know are going to rub just right. His tip is pink and leaking, ready.

“Satoru, it won’t–”

His lips connect to your pulse, licking and sucking when you feel him prodding at your entrance. “It’ll fit, baby.”

He slides himself through your folds, gathering your juices and torturing you every time his tip bumps your clit. By the time he’s finally lining himself up, you’re practically begging.

The first push is heaven. You’re both moaning when he prods past that first tight ring of muscle and you’re gasping, crying out his name and clawing at his back. He keeps pushing, filling you inch by inch until he’s pressed snugly against your cervix. You thank him aloud when he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim. He only kisses the tears from your cheeks.

The first thrust has you seeing stars, little white spots clouding your vision. The second has your nails embedding in his skin hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it has him moving faster, grunting in your ear and whimpering your name.

“Sooo… f-ahh-ucking t-tight…” he whispers.

A hand slides between your sweaty bodies, a thumb rubbing familiar circles against your swollen clit. You cry out, clenching down like a vice.

“F-Fuck, princess.”

His thrusts rock your body and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the air. You feel that familiar coil begin to form, to heat at your core. Your muscles tighten and your legs begin to shake.

“Atta girl. Cum on my cock, baby.”

You whimper at the praise, at the incessant rubbing of your clit, at the relentless pounding of your cervix. It’s all too much, too good.

“Satoru…” you cry. Your legs burn and ache. Satoru has your knees pressed so tightly to your chest you’re afraid something might snap. It only adds to the tension beginning to unravel at your center. You feel as if you’re burning, as if you’re going to snap– and then you do. Heat unravels beneath your skin and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your legs tremble and your toes curl and you vaguely hear your husband whispering a mix of curses and praises in your ear. You’re still lost in the sensation when he starts groaning and you feel him flooding your insides with shallow thrusts close to your cervix, filling you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You’re still panting when you finally regain your mind. Satoru’s still on top of you, completely limp with his head buried in your neck. You curl a hand into his hair, silently holding him close. That was some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You smirk. Yeah, maybe this baby-making business wasn’t going to be so bad.

You shiver when you feel Satoru licking and sucking at your skin. There’s a tenderness in the action that makes you pull him closer. He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but you can already feel him hardening inside you, ready for another round.

“Think it stuck?” he asks. You smirk and answer with a breathy laugh.

“Don’t know.” Silently, you think that there’s no way it didn’t. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs and there’s just so much of it.

He lifts his head, eyes bright and sparkling even in the dim light. He grins. “Guess we’d better make sure.”

With the rate at which Satoru fucks you it’s no surprise when you get two positive little pink lines a few week later. You tell Satoru by unceremoniously dropping the test in front of him while he’s drinking his morning coffee. He only grins and kisses you before he bends you over the counter, whispering something about needing to show you how appreciative he is when he slides inside you. The next morning you wake to Satoru’s lips on yours, a brand new credit card, and a new car in the driveway, fitted with all of the newest safety features (only the best for his wife and baby, he says). You sigh and smile when you see it. Yeah, this whole baby-making business definitely wasn’t so bad.

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#jjk smut #gojo smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #tw: breeding #bree’s fics

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queercecil · 2 years

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Outdoor Kitchen Outdoor Kitchen (Portland)

#Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary backyard outdoor kitchen deck remodel with a roof extension real cedar #outdoor kitchen #deck design #john breiling #deck #mahogany

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idyllicidols · 2 months

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Daddy's Girl.

Apologize in advanced lol. Some real depravity here.

TW: unknown voyeurism.

***

Mina was a stunning young woman, with a fierce determination and an undeniable charm that drew people to her like a magnet. Since the first day she walked in as a lowly intern at a prestigious company, she was often the envy of her peers, with her impeccable style and effortless grace. Despite her junior position, Mina had an air of royalty around her. People didn't dare to cross her, for they didn't know if they would come out the other side alive.

As she moved through the halls, heads would turn and eyes would follow her, admiring her beauty and her unwavering confidence. She was used to getting her way, having never known the word "no" in her life. Her parents had always indulged her every whim, and she had grown accustomed to being the center of attention. Mina's co-workers looked up to her, seeking her approval and advice on everything from work projects to fashion choices. She was the epitome of perfection, always dressed to impress and always on top of her game.

One day, Mina's boss called her into his office. She was sure she was going to be promoted, her heart racing with excitement as she walked in. And promoted she was, but not in the means she was expecting...

After months of training, Mina is now a junior associate, reaching that position in record time. No one even questioned it, her work is always flawless, her presence commanding, her clients pleased. It was obvious to everyone how a newcomer climbed the ranks so fast, everyone just accepts that Mina is someone to look up to, the best of the best.

A regularly scheduled one on one, she knocks on your door, ready for you to fill her in on her weekly duties.

"Come in"

Mina locks the door behind her and smirks. Thursday 8:58AM, your most arduous day, full of virtual meetings that drone on and on.

"You're late Mina, we barely have time to prepare. My next meeting’s about to start."

"Oh you know I always come on time, sir. But I promise I'll make it up to you." her voice laced with natural innuendo.

Despite her tardiness Mina walks towards your desk in slow sauntering steps, clicking her heels on the hardwood floor. Her wide hips sway side to side, her fingertips gently graze across the mahogany surface as she makes her way around. Your tie is in her hands, wrapping it around her hand and pulling your lips onto hers.

"You're under my control for the next thirty minutes." She whispers in your ear.

Her hold releases and she nestles under your desk, a soft cushion already placed there to rest her knees.

Mina looks up to you and smiles her signature gummy smile, a smile that sends a rush of warmth down to your cock.

"You have meetings sir. I suggest you join before they start getting suspicious."

Her hand slides up and down your bulge, squeezing it as she feels it pulsating under the fabric. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the next hour of 'boring meetings'.

"Fuck, Mina..."

"Just relax and enjoy sir, I've got you."

"Thank you Minari, that's why I keep you around."

"You know I'm your best associate for a reason."

She unzips your pants, releasing your hard cock into the air. Her hand wraps around it, stroking it slowly while she watches your face try to maintain its composure. The screen is turned on and you're ready to go, albeit a little distracted by the feeling of Mina's hand around you.

"Good morning everyone, sorry for my tardiness, let's begin."

Mina slowly works her hand up and down, spitting on your cock to get it nice and ready. You try your best to focus on the meeting, but it's incredibly difficult with the feeling of Mina's warm breath and her hand around you.

"As you can see, our numbers have been steadily increasing over the past quarter. This is a testament to our hard work and dedication."

You hear Mina giggle and you look down to see her licking her lips in anticipation. Her pace is as slow and agonizing as ever, placing gentle kisses and licks against your tip as she gathers up the pre-cum. There's no reason to rush, these meetings always drone on and on.

"I think what we're doing is really working. If we continue on this path, I'm confident we'll surpass our projections."

Mina takes your cock into her mouth, the wet warmth enveloping you. Her tongue swirls around the head, her hand working the base of your cock in time with her movements. Mina is great at her job, knowing exactly how much pressure to use to keep you lasting as long as possible.

"We'll have another update in a few weeks, but for now I think it's safe to say we're on the right track."

Your cock throbs in her mouth, the feeling of her warm tongue sending shivers up your spine. It's hard to focus on the meeting when you can barely contain yourself from bucking your hips into her mouth. She can tell you're struggling, pulling off your cock with a pop.

"Patience, sir." she whispers, always careful not to be overheard.

She places gentle kisses up and down the length of your shaft, her hand squeezing the base of your cock, applying pressure in just the right places. Her mouth moves back down, but not to your cock, ignoring your throbbing member and focusing on your balls. The perfect place to give love and attention without risk of eruption.

"Now, I'd like to take a moment to discuss..."

Your words trail off as Mina gently sucks on your balls, her tongue swirling around them, massaging them with her mouth. It's a welcome distraction from the monotony of the meeting, your cock throbbing as you imagine Mina's lips wrapped around it instead.

"...Discuss what sir?" Another voice from the meeting rings out.

"Yes, sorry, just thinking about the future. Johnson, please present what you showed me."

Mina lets out a giggle, knowing she's got you wrapped up.

"So, moving forward, I think it's important that we..."

You can't concentrate on what anyone is saying, too caught up in the feeling of Mina's warm mouth against your skin. Her tongue moves across your balls, leaving a trail of wetness behind. Gentle soft hands stroke up and down your thighs while she sucks them into her mouth, one at a time, massaging them with her skilled tongue - truly a perfectionist in everything she does.

"Mina, you're killing me." You whisper down.

"Shh, you have a meeting sir." she winks and takes you in again.

"That sounds like a good plan, we'll put together a task force to make sure it gets done."

One hand is on your mouse, the other tangled in Mina's hair. She bobs her head up and down, her pace torturously slow. She's in no rush, enjoying every second she has with you under her control. Your breathing grows heavy, your grip on Mina's hair tightening as she continues her slow tortuous pace. It's been 20 minutes now, and Mina is just as flustered. Her own desires are growing within, her pussy aching for touch - feeling her juices leaking down her meaty thighs. The thought crosses her mind. But she knows better. She knows she's forbidden to to touch herself without your permission.

"Mmm.." Mina whimpers under the desk, your cock throbbing in her mouth, a sign that you're close.

You know the rules too, no cumming without Mina's permission, and she's not giving you that right now. You're stuck in an agonizing cycle of pleasure and denial, your cock begging for release, but Mina's pace keeping you just at the edge. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the meeting, but all you can think about is the feeling of Mina's mouth on you, the sound of her soft muted moans as she flicks her tongue at the sensitive area just under your head.

"Are there any questions?"

The signal that the meeting is ending. A sudden change in intensity; light licks and suctions become sloppy, messy, and fast. She's ready to finish you, her own body craving its own release. Your eyes squeeze shut, your toes curling as the pressure builds within. You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the moans that are threatening to escape.

"Thank you all, have a great day."

And with the meeting ending, so does her brief stint of being in control. Both your hands dart down for Mina's hair - moving her head back and forth, treating her like a glorified fleshlight. She moans against your cock, the feeling of her master using her so animalistically turning her on. Her gagging noises only adding to the erotic pleasure. Saliva is leaking out of her mouth, coating her chin and dripping down onto the mat. Her hands tap on your thighs, and you pull her off your cock.

"Fucking use me sir." A welcome surprise. Only wanting to take a break to announce her submissiveness.

With a firm grip, you push her back on your cock, forcing your full length down her throat, her nose burying itself in your pelvis. Tears stream down her face, her mascara running, her body desperate for air. But she loves this, the feeling of her lungs screaming for oxygen, the feeling of helplessness as you take her. You hold her down as you release in her mouth, your cock pulsing as she struggles to keep it all in, coughing with her mouth still full of cock and cum.

"Don't swallow until I tell you to."

You let her pull off and catch her breath, the mixture of spit and cum dripping down her chin. You grab her chin, pulling her up so that she's looking at you.

"Open."

She obeys, her mouth wide open, showing the creamy load inside. It's a sight that turns you on, Mina Myoi, the ideal employee, always so prim and proper, now a certified mess, her eyes red and watery, her makeup ruined, and her mouth full of your cum.

"Swallow."

She obeys, the creamy liquid sliding down her throat. She's yours, body and soul, and you both know it. You reach your hand down, your fingers sliding up and down her pussy lips.

"Fuck, Minari, you're soaked."

"Sorry, sir, I couldn't help myself. I needed you so badly."

"Did you touch yourself?"

"No, sir, I'm a good girl. I waited for you."

"Such a good girl, but you're gonna have to wait a little longer. I have another meeting about to start."

She frowns, but nods and returns to the floor, kneeling under the desk, waiting patiently for you. You can feel her warm breath on your cock, the anticipation building as you wait for the meeting to start. The room is silent, the only sound is Mina's breathing as she kneels below. She's such a good girl, but one that was growing a little too comfortable. A lesson needed to be taught and that's what the next meeting entailed...

Mina returns to her job, stroking and licking your cock back to hardness as your next meeting begins. Her tongue traces the underside of your shaft, teasing and tasting you. It doesn't take long, her warm mouth too comforting to stay soft. And this time she's impatient, no longer slow and steady, sucking harshly - her way of showing her defiance at this unscheduled meeting, her neediness to feel you inside her.

"Fuck, Minari, I don't have much time before this meeting. You're going to have to slow down."

Mina whimpers, knowing the stakes. She doubles down, working her tongue and hands in a perfect rhythm, but then the meeting starts. The unmistakable booming voice on the other end of the video call fills the air.

"Ah hello Dr. Myoi."

Mina stops. Stunned, paralyzed, her ears ringing. She knows this voice. The same voice that has scolded her, chided her, and made her feel so small. Her body trembles. She's been caught. Caught by her father, a man she respects so deeply, a man she looks up to. She tries to pull away but your hand holds her in place.

Her heart is racing, her mind a mess. But there's something about being under your desk, your cock in her mouth, and her father on the other end of the video call, that has her pussy aching for more. The taboo nature of it, the feeling of being completely and utterly dominated, the fear that she'll be found out, it all has her dripping wet.

"I've said this many times. Please call me Akira. After all you've done for me. The donations to the hospital, hell you even got my dear Mina a job at your company."

She wants to cry, her body is shaking and trembling, but she can't move.

"Of course, of course, you're very kind Akira."

"By the way, How's Mina doing? I've heard she recently got a promotion"

"Ah yes, she's one of our best and brightest. Always working on the hardest projects. Willing to do anything to get ahead." Akira may not have noticed the innuendos in your words, but Mina did.

She's desperate, her mind pleading with her to escape, her body telling her to stay, her heart pounding in her chest. The conflict within her is real, but she can't deny how hot this situation is. Being held down by her boss, his cock in her mouth, her father on the other end of the camera. She blushes, her mind flashing with all the dirty things she's done for you, all the positions and toys she's used for your amusement. Her face burns with shame, but her body is aching for more.

"You should bring her by some time. Let her catch up with her old man. She hasn't visited home in a while. Always so tied up in her work"

"Oh don’t I know it…"

"Anyway, let's get to the reason why I'm here. I wanted to talk about our latest research. Our team has been working overtime, trying to get everything ready for you. We're hoping you'll contribute for the next round."

You look down at Mina, her eyes locked with yours, her heart racing, her mind reeling, her body burning with shame and desire. It's a wonderful sight, seeing Mina under your desk, her father completely oblivious to the situation. Her heart pounded in her chest, there was no escape that didn't expose her identity to the camera. She could only imagine her father's reaction if she climbed out from under that desk.

You can't resist, your cock pulsing at the thought of Mina's humiliation. You reach for the mouse, scrolling through the slides, as Mina's mouth stays on you. Her tongue is swirling around your shaft, her hands stroking up and down, desperate to make you cum. Inadvertently, you let out a groan.

"Everything okay?"

"Sorry, I'm just a little distracted." Mina freezes when you gather Mina's hair into a ponytail and raise it up, flashing it to the camera. "I've got someone under my desk sucking my cock. You know how these meetings can go. This just makes them go by so much quicker."

Akira pauses, the tension in the air grows with each second of silence...

...Then he lets out a grand laugh from the depths of his belly. "Well that explains it." The mood in the room changes. Akira, the ever lecherous bastard, forgot about his research and was too engrossed in the details. "You have the best employees. That time you let me sample Jihyo. God the fucking tits on that woman. Tell me about this one."

Mina was stunned. She couldn't believe her father was talking this way, nor did she know her father has slept with her coworkers.

"She's a beautiful young woman. A bit of a daddy's girl, but that's to be expected, right? She's been under my desk for the past thirty minutes. I swear she has the most skillful mouth I've ever met on a woman."

Mina was mortified. Her face was red with embarrassment. Her body burned with shame. But the ache between her legs was becoming unbearable.

"Oh yes, daddy's girls are the best. So obedient, so eager to please. Let me guess, it's Sana isn't it? God that woman is hot. She blew my mind the last time I was down to visit you over there. I've never been with someone so submissive."

Mina froze, her jaw tightening around your cock. It wasn't just one, but two, just how many are there. And Ms. Minatozaki? She ran her own division! She couldn't believe that her esteemed father was such a perverted pig.

"No, no, it's not Sana. She actually moved into her own corner office. Though I do admit, I still visit her from time to time if you know what I mean."

Akira laughed again, "You're a lucky man. Having so many beautiful women at your disposal. So who is it?"

"It's more fun if it's a secret isn't it?"

"Ah well, a man's gotta have his secrets. But promise me you'll let me test drive this new one the next time I'm in town."

Mina was horrified. Her father speaking about her like she was a piece of property, completely oblivious it was her. The shame, the degradation, the humiliation, all of it was driving her crazy. She wanted nothing more than to crawl out from under the desk and run away. But she knew that wasn't an option.

"I'm not so sure about that one Akira. I think I'm keeping this one all to myself."

"Come on now, you're not going to deprive an old man of a little fun, are you? At least let her up so I can see what I'm missing out on"

You looked down at her, her eyes were filled with desperation, begging you with everything she had not to reveal her secret. Her life would be over, she couldn't imagine what would happen if her father found out his precious daughter was your submissive pet. And in that moment, an evil plan crossed your mind.

"I'll show you something better." You bend down, lifting Mina's hips until she's bent over in front of the camera, her face still concealed.

Your hands slide up her skirt, exposing her cheeks in her lacy blue thong, slapping then squeezing her firm ass cheek. Akira's eyes grow wide, his tongue darting out of his mouth, his lust growing as he drinks in the sight of Mina's voluptuous ass. "Tell me Akira, have you ever seen an ass so nice and meaty?"

"That's an exquisite ass. I can see why you want to keep her to yourself" Akira jealously states, still completely oblivious he's staring at his own daughter's ass.

"Can you believe she's never had in there before she joined this company? What a waste of talent."

You can feel Mina trembling beneath you. Her breathing is ragged and her skin is burning hot. Her cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and arousal. You can't help but chuckle at how helpless she is. You give her ass a firm slap, her cheeks jiggling with recoil, making her yelp.

"You're such a good pet, aren't you? Sucking my cock under the desk."

Mina doesn't dare answer, taking everything in her power to keep her father from recognizing her voice.

Akira is practically drooling now, his eyes glued to the screen, watching as you play with his daughter's ass. He's a lecherous pervert, and he's loving every second of it.

"That's not even the best part." You slowly peel off her panties, exposing her bare ass and cunt to her father just virtually inches away. "Check out what a pretty pussy she has. She's been begging me to touch it for the past thirty minutes."

Akira's eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he unknowingly takes in the sight of his daughter's naked body. You spread her ass cheeks apart, showing her pussy to the camera. Her lips glisten with her juices, her hole is pink and inviting, her clit swollen and begging for attention. She's dripping wet, her body betraying her. The humiliation is turning her on, the feeling of her father seeing her body in this state driving her crazy.

Akira is entranced, his eyes glued to the screen, his breath ragged and uneven. He can't look away, the sight of this beautiful pussy too tempting.

At long last, you rub her slit, her juices coating your fingers, sliding them into her dripping wet hole. Mina bites her lip to hold in her moans as you slide back out, showing the camera your fingers drenched in her juices. "Look how wet she is for me." You lean down, licking up the juices directly from the source. The taste of her is intoxicating, her body shuddering as she feels your tongue on her.

"Fuck, that's hot. What I would give to be there right now." Akira pants.

You continue your assault on her pussy, your fingers sliding in and out, curling to brush her g-spot. Mina tries to hold it in, but it's too much, the pleasure you always know how to bring her is in full effect. The eruption growing within her is well past its expiration and you can physically feel it against your finger. And then you let go, releasing your fingers and her sticky fluid shoots out of her, splashing all over the camera.

"FUCK!" Akira shouts out. "She fucking squirted on me! Goddamn, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, did I do that?" You feign ignorance, your hand moving back and forth, going back for seconds. The sound of her squelching filling the room. "I had no idea she could do that. She must really be enjoying herself."

Akira's pants are growing louder, the camera angle is a bit shaky.

"Akira are you ok?" You ask with concern, knowing exactly the state he's in.

Mina can't see, her face still carefully hidden from view. Her mind is swimming with emotions, the fear of being caught, the thrill of being dominated by her boss, the shame of having her father see her naked body, and the overwhelming sense of lust and desire coursing through her veins. It's too much, her brain is on overdrive, her body is aching with need. She wants to run away, but she knows she can't, not with the position she's in.

Your fingers thrust in and out, your thumb rubbing circles on her swollen clit. The eruption is building inside her again, the feeling of her boss' fingers buried inside her, her father's gaze on her most intimate parts, and the sound of her boss' voice praising her has her at the edge.

"Come on baby girl, you're doing so well. Come on, be a good girl and squirt for daddy."

Her body tenses, her back arching as her pussy clenches around your fingers. Another stream of hot, sticky fluid shoots out, coating the camera once again, blurring the focus.

"Oh fuck! Fuck, that's hot." Akira groans, his eyes glued to the screen.

You pull your fingers out of her, rubbing her clit gently. "I'm so proud of you baby girl. You did so well." Mina's body trembles, her pussy still spasming, her juices dripping down her legs. She's a mess, her mind is a blur, the only thing she can focus on is the pleasure you're giving her.

"God, that was hot. I've never seen a girl squirt like that." Akira pants. "You've got one hell of a woman there."

"That's right. She's my good little girl."

"Well Akira, it's been fun, but I think we've gotten way off topic. Send me the details of the proposal and I'll have Mina look then over. You know how attention-detailed she is."

"Right, right. Sorry, we got a little distracted there." Akira's eyes dart around, he's trying to act natural. "We'll catch up another time. By the way, if you're ever willing to share, let me know." Akira signed off, still completely unaware it was his own flesh and blood that got him so hot and bothered.

The call ends and you let out a sigh, turning Mina around and bend her over your desk. She's a mess, her makeup smeared, her hair a tangled mess, and her clothes disheveled. A far cry from the picturesque woman who walked in those doors an hour ago. Her pussy is soaked, her juices leaking down her thighs, the scent of her arousal filling the air. You lean down and kiss her lower lips, tasting her sweet essence. She whimpers against your lips, her body still trembling.

"Did you enjoy that Minari? Seeing daddy's face while you were being such a dirty little slut?"

"Yes, sir. It was so hot. I've never been so humiliated. Now that it's over I'm so horny."

"Don't thank me just yet, Minari. I'm not done with you." Her skirt is pulled down, her legs spread open. You lean down, taking her clit between your teeth and biting down. She moans loudly, her head falling back in pleasure. Your fingers slide inside her dripping wet hole, your tongue moving up and down her slit. Her body writhes against the desk, her pussy clenching around your fingers, her juices leaking down your chin. Free to be as loud as she wants again, she lets out a ear piercing scream.

"Did you just cum Minari?" your voice lathered in disappointment, taking a step away from the desk.

"Please sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cum without permission. I promise I'll be good. Don't leave me like this. Please fuck me."

You can't help but laugh. She is a total mess, her body shaking uncontrollably, her face stained with tears, her pussy dripping wet. She is so desperate to cum again. "Are you asking me to fuck you or are you begging?" your hand wrapping around her neck and squeezing.

"I'm begging, please fuck me."

"Begging huh? Such a good girl..."

#kpop smut #mina smut #twice mina smut #twice smut

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zepskies · 2 months

Text

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look.

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny.

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind.

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head.

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either.

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin.

Fucking show off, Ben thought.

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target.

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up.

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said.

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym.

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press.

You seemed to be mysterious.

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss.

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point.

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating.

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?"

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself.

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you.

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core…

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile.

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind.

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection.

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained.

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you.

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries.

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time.

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks.

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust.

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight.

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet.

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name.

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy.

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained.

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole.

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one.

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair.

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here.

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here.

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you.

It had never been about you.

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills.

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned.

Soldier Boy, that asshole.

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun.

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it.

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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jobean12-blog · 2 months

Text

Making Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,601

Summary: You're busy, your husband is busy but there's always time to play.

Author's Note: Just a little something fun. Life has been busy lately and it was just making me think of how hard it is to find time for the extra special things and sometimes you have to get creative haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: there's always the softness there, teasing, tension, masturbation (f), car sex, a curse or three

“Mr. Barnes, your wife is here to see you.”

Bucky stands behind his large mahogany desk and runs a hand along his jaw.

“Send her in.”

You walk through the door with a flourish and a smile.

“Hi Buck,” you sing.

“Doll face,” he greets, his smile playful as it teases his lips. “Missed me that much?”

He calls you over with a crook of his finger and pulls you in a for a kiss.

“Always,” you whisper against his lips. “You’ve been working late every night this week and we haven’t had lunch once!”

You pout but he kisses it off your lips.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you today. This new account is a real pain in my ass.”

His fingers gently stroke your cheek before pressing under your chin to hold your face to his for more kisses.

“I know,” you say, “I brought you some food and thought we could at least spend our lunch hour together.”

You plop the takeout bag on the corner of his desk and then slip around him to sit in his leather chair.

He turns and leans back against the desk, studying you. Just as he’s about to say something his phone rings. He reaches for it, answering with an indifferent “yes.”

With a nod he starts speaking into the phone, clearly talking about this new ‘pain in the ass’ account. His jaw tenses and his fingers tighten around the receiver showing his clear annoyance over the disruption.

You cross your legs, and his eyes track the movement, lingering before he motions for you to stand.

He reaches forward, pen poised between his finger and thumb, and uses the tip to lift the hem of your skirt.

It’s slow and deliberate and when he sees the lace of your stockings and the garter belt his eyes widen.

They move up your body, darkening as they travel, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“No, no,” he says sternly into the phone. “Nothing like that…”

You fall back into his chair and spread your legs, hiking the skirt up to your hips.

“Yes, I understand,” he says, his voice deeper and slightly hoarse now.

Your fingertips trace the lines of the garter, along your bare skin to the silk of your panties.

“Yes,” he continues into the phone, eyes locked on your every move.

You throw him a false saccharine smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your panties aside and run two fingers along your wet skin.

He coughs and grabs his water, taking a large sip.

“That’s fine, Steve. We can work with that timeline.”

The plastic bottle crushes under the weight of his grip, and your smile turns devilish. You begin moving your fingers, your eyes falling closed and head dropping back against the chair.

You imagine his long fingers doing the work, touching you, grabbing your hips. A tiny moan escapes, and you think about his taut arm muscles, strained and flexing as he moves his fingers inside you…his eyes, dark and pleading.

You look up to see them exactly as that, his gaze drifting from your face to the hand between your legs. His hungry expression moves back to your face, and he watches you fall apart with his name on your parted lips.

It’s overwhelming and unsatisfying: you need it to be his touch.

At some point, he ended the call, and now your heavy breathing is too loud for the quiet room as he sits across from you on the desk, his free hand gripping the edge so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Fuck doll,” he growls. “Look what you do to me.”

He adjusts himself in his pants and you see the straining outline of his cock pressed along the tight fabric.

You grin and start to straighten yourself out.

“Pretty sure I just did that to myself…”

His eyes sparkle and he lifts his brows. “Should have been me.”

“Obviously. And now our lunch is over, and I have to go back to work.”

You stand and smooth down your skirt.

“Like hell you’re goin’ back to work,” he whisper shouts.

Your only response is to grab his tie and yank his lips down to yours before you walk through his door and down the hall, your heels clicking until you disappear onto the elevator. His loud, “fuck!” the last thing you hear.

The moment you step off the elevator you have a text from him.

“I’m picking you up at work. Five sharp. And I don’t want to hear shit about it.”

You smile but don’t respond, shoving your phone back into your bag and heading out through the double doors to your own office building.

It’s five on the dot and you look out your office window, noticing the sleek black car that pulls up right in front. Deciding to take your time, you tidy up your desk and gather your things, stepping out to meet him at about eight minutes after five.

“You’re late,” Bucky says when he gets out to hold the door open for you.

With a demure shrug you slide into the seat and watch him breeze around the car. He doesn’t drive away from the curb, and you look over to see his nostrils flared.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?”

“Get in the backseat.”

You blink several times and stare.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get in the backseat. Now.”

He reaches over to unbuckle the seatbelt for you, waiting with heated eyes for you to do as you’re told.

“You want to play doll. We’ll play.”

You smirk and start to climb over the middle console to the plush and spacious leather seats in the back. He lands a hard smack to your ass when you pass by, and you let out a squeal as you fall against the soft material.

He pushes through the middle, his tie hanging loosely in the air, and you grab it, pulling him on top of you. With a growl he kisses you, rough and without patience. He wastes no time pulling your shirt free of your skirt and ripping the buttons apart until it falls open to reveal your lacy bra.

“All day. All fucking day,” he murmurs.

“All day what?” you sass against his lips as you work open his pants.

“I’ve been hard and thinking about nothing else but burying myself between your legs.”

His hands wander over your skin, and he slips them under your skirt, pushing it up to your hips and then tracing the delicate little ribbons on the edge of your stockings.

You pull his chest to yours and kiss him, long and deep, gaining more urgency with every inch of skin uncovered.

You rip his shirt from his pants and explore the skin over his ribs, the sharp definition of muscle at his hips, and the soft trail of hair that disappears into his boxer briefs.

He groans into your mouth and deftly unhooks your garter belt, peeling your panties down and spreading your legs.

Pulling your leg forward you push him back and off you, sitting up so you can shove him against the seat back and straddle his lap.

With frantic hands you reach down and take him between your fingers, guiding his cock into you. Your eyes close as you slowly slide down every thick inch of him.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

You start to ride him, the pain of his rough fingertips on your hips only fueling you on. His sounds of pleasure are muffled between your breasts, and he pulls one bra cup down to close his mouth around your hardened nipple.

Your palm hits the dark tinted window and slides down from the condensation, but your hips don’t falter, and you hear him moan out your name.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep that up doll.”

He lifts you off him and roughly throws you down onto the seat. Pushing your legs apart he thrusts back in and picks one of your legs up over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, yes.”

“Yeah doll?”

He smirks down at you and reaches out to grip the door frame and uses it for leverage, pushing deeper.

“Is this how you like it? This is what you get for showin’ up in my office and teasing me like that.”

“No,” you sass back and lift your hips to meet his. “I like it harder Bucky.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs.

The windows are completely fogged and your slick skin slides along the leather seats. You watch as his body strains with effort, the tendons in his neck pulled tight and you slip your legs off his shoulders, tugging all his weight on top of you, pleading over and over for more.

“Anything,” he growls. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your nails dig into his back, and you cry out his name. He swears, loud and deep and stutters above you.

With a satisfied sigh he collapses, burying his face in your neck. You can’t resist running your hands through his hair, feeling his heart race against your chest. You lay there together in the cramped space, breathing each other in until he lifts his head and your eyes lock.

“I love you baby,” he whispers against your lips.

“Love you too Buck.”

“Come on,” he says, gently helping you up and fixing what he can of your clothing. His touch is a soft caress, and you lean into it.

“Let’s get you home doll. I’ll make dinner and then you can be my dessert.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #ceo au

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