gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]
luxury & lingerie. a retail au
“𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.”
ᰔ pairing. retail au - rolex salesman gojo x victoria's secret associate reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo is the rolex watch shop's pretty boy & you're the victoria's secret lingerie store's new hire that works across from him. let's just say he's determined to get inside your pants.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, porn with plot (seriously that's all it is), smut, casual sex, possibly comedic, lots of terrible flirting, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, gojo's got a daddy kink that you really have no interest in entertaining, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, blowjobs, oral sex, praise kink, some degradation, sort of cum play, banter, suguru & choso are in it too (the hot-boy sales trio)
ᰔ word count. 6.5k
a/n. hellooo this started with this concept idea i had of hot retail worker gojo who just wants to flirt with you instead of actually do his job lmfao. this was seriously just a stream of my consciousness. hope you enjoy! and thanks to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this. creds to @quinnyundertow for the sephora lipstick idea.
The sound of Suguru’s voice was the last thing going through Gojo’s mind right now.
“Anyways, I put the car in reverse, she’s on aux. I’m thinking, she’s gotta have good taste, right? She’s the one that suggested the Maneskin concert in the first place. But you know what she starts playing? Country music. Fucking country music. And I’m not necessarily opposed to a good— dude, are you even listening?”
Choso leans over the polished display case of the mens’ latest Rolex models, staring at the two idiots in front of him. “No, he’s not. He’s been ogling the tits on that mannequin over there for the past five minutes.”
Gojo finally blinks out of his trance, irritated. “I’m not staring at the mannequin, I’m staring at—”
You. New hire. Over at the Victoria’s Secret that was across from his turf at the mall. You were standing on your tiptoes on a mini ladder, wobbling a little, reaching up for a mannequin at the display window to switch out the corny yellow sleeping mask on its face for one that was a more sleek, satin blue.
The fabric of your uniform slid up slightly, skin of your midriff exposed, and he has to suck a breath in through his teeth.
“I called dibs on that a week ago,” Suguru says from where he stood, lazily leaning on the counter.
“No fucking way. I’ve got dibs.”
“Dibs? Really? I work with a bunch of prepubescents,” Choso groans, tipping his head back to stare up at fluorescent mall lighting.
Suguru’s voice sounds like he’s lax at the jaw. “Is anyone gonna tell her that’s the ladder they use to prop the door open, and not the one to flash Satoru’s horny ass while changing out a mannequin?”
“I’ll be the one to tell her,” Gojo says.
At the display window, you slowly peel the panties off of the mannequin without a thought in the world to use the store’s modesty curtain, and Gojo, Suguru & Choso are all staring. And probably every other man within the store’s radius.
“Holy fuck,” Gojo says, strained.
“Holy fuck, indeed,” Suguru marvels.
“She’s clueless,” Choso sighs.
“You can have the mannequin, I get the girl,” Suguru offers, something just to get under Gojo’s skin.
“Shut up. I’m going over there.” He stands up onto his feet from the leather client chair he had been sprawled across up until this point of his shift.
“Can’t wait for you to royally fuck this up,” Choso muses with a smirk, arms crossing at his chest.
Gojo grumbles something under his breath when he hears Suguru’s coo of agreement, and then he’s making his way across to the Victoria’s Secret entrance. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his black dress shirt, as if he expects the sight of the skin at his collarbone to have you seduced like a victorian man seeing a lady’s ankle for the first time.
He makes it through the welcoming glass doors that lead into the sultry & dark ambience that you would expect of a lingerie store, and he rounds to the right, stopping a few feet away from you.
You were combing through a rack now, lips pursed in concentration until he clears his throat.
Glancing over, your shoulders tense and you pull your retail headset earpiece down, leaving it hanging by the wire that was clipped to the neckline of your shirt. His eyes flicker to the nametag pinned above the curve of your breast. You look at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hi sir. How can I help you?”
“Oh, no, I’m not a customer,” Gojo quickly corrects you, although he liked the sound of sir from your lips, “I work over there.” He points with a jerk of his chin towards the obnoxiously gaudy exterior of the Rolex watch store facing the two of you.
You blink at him. “Ah, I see.”
“You new here?” Gojo asks, taking a step forward and resting his elbow up on the metal bar of the rack just to get more into your space. “Haven’t seen you around.”
The corner of your lip turns up slightly at his words. “Why? Do you keep a roster?”
“I—no, not really,” he responds, already a little speechless, “wait, a roster of what?” He’d say he does if it’s a roster of pretty girls he’s been fantasizing about tit-fucking all day long, with you being at the top—no, the only one—on that list.
You shrug a little. It’s kind of meek and cute. “Of new hires?”
He breathes in deep. “Yes. Yes, I do. I just like to make sure the newbies feel welcome around here. Y’know, taken care of.”
You smile, turn to face him and relax your posture. “Oh. That’s sweet. Yeah, I feel pretty welcome here, thanks.”
“That’s good.”
“I mean, everyone’s been really nice to me so far.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm, and I really like the break room on this floor. The last place I worked at didn’t have a toaster oven.”
“No way.”
“I wish the clock-in machine was easier to use though…”
“For sure.”
You glance at him suspiciously in the middle of your rant. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Cause you’re real pretty, angel.”
Your brow raises, the keys hooked to the loop of your jeans jingling as you place a curled hand to your hip. “Angel? Really? Cause of— cause of Victoria’s Secret angels?”
Gojo’s stiff, his elbow still resting on the cool metal pole, and he glances up at the ceiling before looking back down at you. “Uhh…sure? Yes.”
“That’s not very original.”
“Man, you’re really making me work hard for this. Unfortunately, that only makes me want you more.” He leans down closer to you, to catch the scent on your skin, and he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks round as you narrow your eyes at him.
“This is you working hard for it? You haven’t even told me your name yet, watch boy.”
He sees your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar of the rack, and he tries hard not to picture them wrapped around something else, but to no avail. You jut your hip out to bump him, pushing him out of your way, before you start rolling the rack down the store.
He trails behind you. “My name. It’s Satoru. But to you, I can be dadd-”
You stop in your tracks, turning around to face him with a scowl, but he was too distracted by the shape of your backside to be reflexive enough to stop himself in time, and he ends up crashing right into you. The momentum has you falling back with a gasp, tripping over the foot of the rack, and his arm flies around your waist to keep you upright, and then pressed up against him too just for good measure.
His face is just inches away from yours. “Shit. Sorry.”
Your arms are squished between his chest and yours, pinky tickling the skin at his collarbone, and the contact has him reeling. “I-It’s fine,” you say, lashes fluttering, “now let go of me, before I file a harassment complaint.”
He instantly retreats, releasing you, watching you stumble a bit before gaining your balance again. “God, no, please,” he sighs, “I really need this job.”
“You don’t act like it,” you mumble. You fix your hair in front of him and tuck the fabric of your shirt that came loose back into your jeans. He doesn’t have to touch your cheeks to know they feel hot, he can tell from the purse of your lips and the way you won’t make eye contact with him.
The voices of a couple women are heard from down the aisle, as well as the plastic clinking of hangers on racks as they peruse the sheer bralettes dangling in color-coded fashion. Gojo sees you struggling to pull the rack you were working with away to the side to let them through, and he comes up behind you, gripping the metal bar to do it for you. He catches the fragrance of your hair at the crown of your head, and he inhales slowly.
The women walk by, throwing a few curious glances at the two of you, and Gojo doesn’t move from where he’s holding onto the rack and has his arm pressed against yours, his only lifeline to find some reason to touch you right now.
You start pushing the rack forward again, and he continues to follow you, keeping a more respectful following distance this time. He’s distracted by the pair of crotchless panties hung over your shoulder. He picks them up by the string. “Who the fuck actually wears these?” he asks, dangling them in front of his face and turning them around in the air to inspect it.
Your eyes are set forward for your destination. “Middle-aged women that are desperate to seduce their husbands before those men ride the high of buying a $100k watch by fucking a twenty-something-year-old instead.” You snatch the pair from his hand. “I’m rooting for those women. The men at your Rolex store? Not so much.”
He’s on your heel until you round to a smaller section of the store, wheeling the rack over to a corner near the collection of lace panties sprinkled across cubbies under dim purple lighting. He glances over his shoulder and takes note that this area’s tucked away from the eyesights of the cash registers and storefront.
He hears you sigh, then say “Why are you following me?”
He meanders closer to you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “Because…y’know, like I said, I wanna make the new hire feel settled in.”
“I literally feel so very unsettled by you right now,” you say to him with a wry expression as you start sorting through lace underwear, referencing some chart in your hand to get it right.
He walks up to you and peers over your shoulder at the illustration, and notices the way you stiffen a bit but also lean back into him. “Huh…so the cheeky panties go in the left top & bottom cubes. And they’re the ones with medium coverage and…” he squints his eyes at the chart, dim lighting doing him no favors, “and they have an alarming fit.”
You scoff through your nose. “It says alluring fit. Can you read?”
“I— shut up. Yes I can read.”
You twirl around to face him, a hint of an amused smile to your lips. His eyes widen a bit at the sight of it, until he registers it’s a cheeky one, like those panties.
“Watch boy is illiterate. Must be why you still work in retail.”
“Yes, keep being mean to me, new hire. It’s hot,” he groans, hands still in his pockets as he leans towards you. You don’t shy away, just keep on looking up at him in this little corner he has you in, a twinkle in your pupils now that he wasn’t seeing earlier.
He’s surprised when your finger hooks the fabric in between two of the buttons on his shirt. You play with the material, pinching it, but never tug on it. “What’s a grown ass man like yourself doing still working for commission at a mall?”
“Okay, ouch, a little too mean,” he backtracks, watching your tongue briefly swipe across your lip, “let’s be a bit nicer.”
Now you’re tugging on the fabric, hooked finger pulling him closer to you until his hands have to fly out of his pockets and his palms press against the wall, caging you into it. “Illiterate and can’t take a dig. Pick a struggle,” you say to him with a sweet look up.
He’s getting the sense that you’re into him too. He grabs hold of your waist, thumbs rubbing your torso over the fabric of your uniform just to get a feel. “Well,” he starts, bringing your hips forward to his, pressing the erection he was building against you, “this illiterate retail worker could fuck you real good if you’d just give him the chance.”
A small gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Fuck, he wants to kiss you. Wants to be the one biting your lip right now. Your hand grabs his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin left exposed by his rolled up sleeve. “It’s…It’s real well, watch boy. You’d fuck me real well.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll fuck you real well,” he tells you, as his head tips towards your cheek, lips brushing against it. It was just a tease, so he pulls away but still looks down at you in closeness. There’s voices around the corner, but he doesn’t really care.
“You’re awfully forward,” you breathe out, and he almost goes insane at the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he can’t help but jerk his hips forward a bit.
“Y’know what? Fuck it,” he grumbles, pulling the rack across behind him so he’s created a covered haven for the two of you against this wall, and then he kisses you.
There’s a yelp that he muffles from you as his lips move against yours, slow, because you're new to him and he wants to savor it. His hand finds the small of your back, spreads across it, pushing you to arch towards him, and his teeth catch your bottom lip when he feels your breasts press against him. You’re pliant, opening your mouth for him, and he takes up the offer to taste you. Soft & warm pressed up against him, a subtle sweetness on your tongue, and he only pulls away because you squeeze his shoulder hard.
You’re breathing fast, cheeks shy, a little cutely cross-eyed from his proximity when you look up at him. “I-…okay, I’m a little mad that you’re a good kisser.”
He hums, tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly and you grip the collar of his shirt to keep him close. “I’ll kiss you nice in a lot of other places too.”
It doesn’t really take much convincing after that.
“Oh…oh my god—,” you mewl, back against the mirror of one of this fine lingerie establishment’s fitting room stalls, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you raw with the aim to please.
“Shit, knew you’d be tight,” he groans, pressing a kiss to your jaw when you tip your head back in pleasure, throat loose with a moan, “pretty little new hire. Just had to break you in.”
“S-Satoru,” you moan through a breath, the sound of his name on your tongue having his cock twitch inside your walls, mixed with the pain of the grip you had on the hair at the back of his head.
He has your shirt bunched up along with your bra, tits exposed for him. His head dips to pull a nipple through his teeth as he feeds you with a few slow, deep thrusts, and his eye catches the earpiece of your headset, still clipped to your shirt, bouncing around with every one of his movements inside you. “Really hope that thing’s off,” he mumbles against your skin, “but if it excites you to have it on, I—fuck, I wouldn’t really mind either way.”
Your hand flies to his bicep when he runs his thumb over your clit, legs wrapping around him even tighter. “More. Need more,” you say, head in a haze, and he really could’ve cum inside you right then and there but he holds out to enjoy some more time buried in the warm pleasure of your cunt.
“If you want something from me,” he grunts between thrusts, “you’re gonna have to beg me for it, love.”
“Fuck me harder,” you cry, eyes shut closed, and he almost feels sorry for you.
“That’s a demand,” he informs, pinching the flesh of your ass and enjoying the way you clench around him from the action, “I told you to beg.”
“Please, oh my god, please—,” you start, moving your hips against his now, and he hears the lewd sound of your flesh slapping more fervently against the mirror. “Please fuck me harder.”
“Good girl. Pretty girl,” he praises you, thumb finding your clit again as a reward, “see what you get for being so nice to me now.”
He bucks his hips harder, your arms wrapping around his neck in desperation, chin resting at the top of his head as his lips fall to your neck, and he kisses, nibbles, sucks, anything to get that sweet taste in his mouth while he draws stars over your sensitive bud, eliciting broken whimpers from you over and over again.
“Gonna let me cum inside?” he asks, feeling his balls jump at just the thought of filling you up, his thighs feeling hot from the anticipation of you giving him the permission. “All that shit talk earlier about me being a dumb mall worker, but you’d still let me finish in you, right?” His hips stutter slightly, vision starting to blur, and he feels your walls flutter tightly too, “cause I bet it turns you on that you’re letting this dumb retail man fuck you senseless in a flimsy little fitting room right now, regardless.”
“Satoru, please,” you’re begging, the crack in your voice hoarse like you’re about to cry from the pleasure.
“Answer me,” he demands, retreating the thumb that was toying with your clit. He pulls one of your arms from where it was wrapped around his neck to pin your wrist to the mirror. “You want me to cum inside you or not?”
Your hips press so harshly against his that he hardly has any leeway to thrust anymore, and it makes him hiss in protest, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to let up. “I want—mhh, I want you to cum inside me, please, please,” you plead, desperate, grinding your clit against the skin above his cock, above the place he was buried to the hilt inside of you.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, the sweet words processing in his head, and he loses all sense of control, motions eager and desperate, chasing after his high and his thumb is barely considerate enough to chase after yours too as it rubs relentlessly over your puffed up clit. You shiver against him, walls clenching around his cock impossibly tight, legs wrapping around his waist possibly even tighter, and he feels every nerve as you come undone around him. The gripping sensation your orgasm had on him has him faltering with harsh thrusts forward, and he holds your hips flush to his as the first spurt of his cum spills into you, followed by more with repetitive juts of his hips until he’s emptied himself entirely into you, and you’re just pumped full of him.
You swat at his chest, squirming as he leaks the last drop from the tip of his dick, and he can tell you’re overstimulated.
“Sorry,” he says through a short exhale, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and he slowly pulls out of you, cock falling limp over his thigh, and he holds you until you find footing on the ground, albeit a bit wobbly.
“Oh no,” you mewl, clenching your thighs together when you feel his cum starting to drip out, and he quickly bends down to hook your panties up back into place. You give him a pointed look.
“What? The easiest clean-up is not letting it out,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him so he gets to feel the plushness of your bare breasts against him and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re real good, new hire. Or whatever the fucking proper way to say it is.”
He can tell you’re rolling your eyes even though your face is buried in his chest.
“You’re a dumbass,” you say, sounding muffled.
—
Gojo spends about 90% of his shifts meandering across the shimmering tile floors of the mall to the Victoria’s Secret, and only spends about 10% of them actually being a watch salesman. His boss was starting to get real fuckin’ fed up with him, threatening to fire him yesterday for the two-hour lunch break he took because he was eating you out in a storage closet, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care. He was an addict, and he needed to get his fix. Not before annoying the shit out of you, though.
“Alright, daddy’s home. Let’s get to it. I’m on my lunch break,” he says, walking right up to you in the middle of your shift while you’re folding slip dresses onto a display table, his hand reaching for your waist but you retreat from him.
“For that, get the fuck away from me.”
He sighs. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all day long. Do you purposefully walk your gorgeous self across the front of the store that many times just to tease the hell out of me? I’m suffering.”
“I walk across the storefront because I’m doing my job,” you mumble to him.
“No, I swear, you do it to—”
“Sweets,” one of your coworkers calls out to you from the other end of the store, the one with a pink buzzcut that acts kinda scary. “Is that man bothering you?” she asks through a smack of her gum, “want me to call security?”
“Yes.”
“What—”
After a couple of minutes of vindicating himself to mall security that he is not a threat to public safety, which you watch in amusement with no help at all, he’s shortly back at your side in a different section of the store to annoy you.
“When are you gonna wear one of these for me?” he asks, holding up a pair of jaguar-print panties.
“Never,” you say to him, scanning the tags on the underwear in a box of new arrivals, “those are ugly.”
“Okay, how about these,” he says, pulling a pair out of the box. “They’re see-through. I like that.”
“No,” you say, snatching it out of his hand.
“Oh c’mon,” he groans, doing a quick glance over his shoulder to check if the coast is clear before taking a step forward, pulling you to him by a finger hooked through the belt hoop of your jeans. “I’ll buy them for you. Ring me up.”
You look up at him, hand placed on his chest but you weren’t pushing him away just yet. “Really? You’re gonna buy me panties from the store I literally work at? At least have the decency to shoplift them for me.”
He has a smile on his face when he leans down closer to you, both hands now playing with the loops of your jeans. “Ohhh you’re into criminals. Will you tackle me to the ground if I do?”
“Yes, to arrest you. Not to fuck you.”
“Why not both?”
“Satoru,” you chastise him when you hear footsteps around the corner, and now you’re pushing him away and clearing your throat before busying yourself with the box again as a few customers walk by. Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets, and then his eyes widen a bit when his knuckles hit something.
“Oh yeah,” he says, “I got you this.” He pulls out a small, shimmering black tube and holds it out to you with an up facing palm.
You lean forward to glance at it. “Is that…lipstick?”
“Yeah,” he says, “the lady outside Sephora was giving out samples.”
You cross your arms at your chest. “The lady outside Sephora was giving out free samples of lipstick to you?”
“Can you just take it already? My arm’s starting to hurt.”
You swipe it from him and inspect it. Popping the cap open, you twist the cheap plastic adjuster so that the tip of the wax peaks out. It was a deep shade of red. “Did she try to talk to you?”
“Uhh, yeah. Something about how this new formula is smudge-proof or something. Was hoping we could test that out.”
You roll your eyes. “She probably wanted to test that out. With you.”
“What, are you jealous?”
“Not really, no,” you say and hand the lipstick back to him. He looks at you puzzled. “Lipstick isn’t really for me, sorry.”
“I literally saw you wear some the other day. That’s what gave me the idea,” he says, “of turning my dick into the shade of your lipstick.”
“Could you be any louder?” you hiss at him, glancing at a coworker who could’ve potentially been in earshot.
He shrugs and pinches the tube of lipstick between two of his fingers, holding it up between the two of you. “You sure you don’t wanna?”
Turns out you were not too opposed to the idea, but he had to earn it by making you cum a couple times in the janitor’s closet at the end of the floor. He likes having to earn the sight of you on your knees, it turned him on way more than he had expected.
“My jaw is so fucking sore,” he complains, opening and closing his mouth a few times to stretch it out, then runs a hand across his jawline. “You were a lot less sensitive today. Took way longer.”
“Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are,” you say, pulling the buckle of his belt loose, sitting back down onto your heels to get more comfortable while you undress him.
“Bullshit. Should’ve used that insult maybe the first or second time I gave you head. It’s too late now, after the filthy things you’ve said to me in your desperation to cum.”
He watches you flutter your lashes a few times, fingers stopping their movements, and you shift a little from where you were seated on the ground. You were aroused, but still committed to the attitude. “I don’t have to do this for you, you know.”
He shudders a little. “Wait, you seriously don’t want to? You don’t have to.”
You sigh. “You were supposed to demand me to do it anyways. Would’ve been hot.” You pull his belt loose and your thumb and index finger pinch the button open with ease. “You don’t wanna fuck me, though?”
“Of course I want to fuck you, I will always want to fuck you. But the last time we got rowdy in here, I almost killed you when I knocked the shelf over.” A chill runs down his spine. “Not taking any more chances.”
You giggle a little at the memory while zipping down the front, then your fingers dig into the fabric of both his slacks and his boxers, pulling them down until he’s sprung free, fully thick and hard, courtesy of the cute sounds you were making earlier while his tongue was playing with your clit.
“Are you not gonna put the lipstick on?” he asks.
“No.” You grab a hold of him mid-way, giving an experimental tug, and raise from your seated position onto your knees.
“But—”
“I told you, lipstick isn’t my style,” you say, eyes flickering up to him when you kiss the tip. He sucks a breath in.
“Damn, okay. I was genuinely curious if it was smudge proof. The lady was really hyping it up,” he says and he sees your shoulders drop.
“Enough of the Sephora lady,” you mumble, pressing your lips against his tip again, but as less of a kiss.
There’s a sulk in your posture from where you look up at him on your knees. His heart does this weird thing where it aches a little, and he wants to get rid of the pout on your face with a few sweet words, but he settles for pushing the tip of his cock past your lips instead. Works all the same in the end. “Good girl,” he groans when you take him all the way to the back of your throat, and your fingernails dig into the skin of his thigh as you let out a muffled moan.
“Fuck…” He pulls his hips back slightly, allowing you to adjust, but when you swallow and his tip feels the roll of those muscles, he’s pushing into your mouth again. “C-Can you take more?”
You try your best to give him a nod and you bob your head once, tongue swiping over the vein that was throbbing the proof of his need for you right now.
“I’ll finish fast, baby,” he tells you, voice husky, fingers combing through your hair gently, “just take it how I want it, and I promise I’ll be quick, okay?”
You nod again, thumb rubbing the skin near his groin in reassurance. You squirm a little and press your thighs together when he grips your hair tighter now, encouraging your head to bob up and down on him, and you do as he wants. Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on him, and he swears he’s already close to cumming.
“Yeah…fuck, yeah,” he grunts under his breath, “good. Just—just like that. You’re so good. Pretty girl,” he juts his hips forward to see if you can take it, and you do, “on her knees for me.”
Your throat vibrates with a moan, and he sees you squirm even more. You take him all the way in, to a place deeper than the back of your throat, so well without a gag but there’s a prickle of tears in your eyes, and he rubs your cheek softly while he feels the sweat collect at his temple. “Oh fuck, I’m— shit, baby. I’m close.”
You drag your lips across his length, retreating with a thorough hollow to your cheeks, and release him with a pop and your tongue stuck out connecting a string of your spit to his tip. Your hand immediately starts to rub him up and down as you look up, and the soft panting leaving your lips and fanning across his cock has him swallowing hard. “S-Sorry, needed a break.”
“That’s okay,” he says, swiping at some of the saliva pooled at the corner of your lip. “Take your time.”
You kiss his tip in acknowledgment, then take him in again, this time both hands working at the base as you bob up and down, more free with your moans and the sensation of them reverberating in the canal of your throat makes him grip your hair with both hands, desperate.
“Yes—fuck, yes,” he grunts, head tipping back and hitting the door. “Real close. Your mouth feels so good, you’re driving me insane.”
You suck on him, hard, taking him in to his favorite place that’s at the back of your throat, and when your hand reaches out to play with his balls, paired with the sensation of fast exhales through your nose onto the skin of his groin, his eyes close shut and strained and he’s jerking his hips forward to spill his cum down your throat. “Fuuuuck. Oh my god.” He exhales, watching you swallow over and over again as he pumps into your mouth, then he slowly pulls out when he feels that he’s done.
You sit back down on your heels, hands now neatly folded on your lap, looking up at him and his thumb prods at your bottom lip for you to open your mouth. You do as he wants, tongue hanging out in the process, and he sighs in satisfaction when he sees you’ve swallowed it all. “Beautiful, baby. Come here.”
With a hand wrapped around your arm, he gets you up on your feet and kisses you. You hold onto the fabric of his shirt for purchase, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Doing okay?”
“Mhm,” you nod, tightening your grip on his shirt, “I liked it. Liked it when you said I was good.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “More than good, angel. You’re perfect.”
—
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. You look like you could use a break,” Gojo says to you in Victoria’s Secret on a random Saturday morning. He usually always works on Saturday, but he’s never seen you here on a Saturday before. Apparently you were picking up extra shifts since you were going on vacation next week, something about a wedding in Spain. But you’d worked six consecutive shifts in a row, and the exhaustion was starting to show.
“I don’t know…your store scares me,” you respond back to him. You were behind the register, and he was pretending to buy forty-two pairs of panties just to talk to you.
“It’s not scary. I just want to show you around,” he says, standing up straight from where he had been leaning over the counter.
You eventually give in, toying with your name badge as you make your way around the counter to him, eyeing the smile on his face before he leads you through the aisles and eventually across the mall to the Rolex watch store.
It wasn’t horribly busy for a weekend, but there were still a few clients around. Choso was helping out a regular, a man who has bought four $200k watches within the past two months, and Choso’s been biting his nails worried he’s going to have to play witness in a tax evasion court case should that client eventually get caught by the IRS for fraud one of these days.
Suguru comes around the corner the second he sees you walk through the polished glass doors, and Gojo’s already annoyed.
“Hey, it’s the new hire,” he greets you, stretching his hand out and you accept it in a shake. “I’m Suguru.”
“Not really new here anymore,” you say to him after introducing yourself, “been here for a couple months now.”
“Oh really? Time flies. Thanks for all the shows, by the way,” he jerks his head off to the Victoria’s Secret store, “I’ve enjoyed watching the 101 ways you can remove a bra on a mannequin. Might have to incorporate some of them into my personal life.”
Gojo scoffs. “Yeah right, like a woman would let you within a hundred feet of her bra.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow with a sleazy smirk on his face, before leaning closer to you. “Should we prove him wrong about that, darling?”
Gojo hates the way he sees you blink your lashes at him and blush, so he’s grabbing your hand and walking you across the store, away from Suguru. He circles you around to the back near one of the display counters. Ladies’ new Datejust models, pretty classy and feminine. He walks to behind the counter, with you staying on the other side, like you were a genuine sale.
“See anything you like?” he asks, resting his elbow on the glass and peering down through it.
You blink at him. “Uh…of Rolex watches?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm…” you press your index finger to your chin and glance at a few. “I like that one.” You point with that same finger and he follows the line with his eyes.
“Hm,” he says, using his key to unlock the case, then slides the opening to the side to gently pull the watch out. “Oystersteel and yellow gold, 18 karat. Wanna try it on?”
“Sure.”
He releases the safety clasp, pulling apart the band, and slides it through your hand down to your wrist, then fastens the clasp until he hears a click. You immediately raise your wrist up into the air, twisting it to assess, and there’s a sparkle in your eyes.
“How much is it?” you ask.
“Thirty.”
“Thirty-what?”
“Thirty-thousand.”
Your jaw drops. “Oh my god. Get this thing off of me.”
He laughs and his hands find the clasp at your wrist, unfastening it and you’re trembling a bit as you shake it off before he catches it in his palm. “Not my fault you literally chose one of the most expensive watches we have in this section.”
“This is insane. How do people afford any of these?” you ask, feet wandering and now you’re clearly curious as you inspect the cases.
“We have more affordable watches available for lingerie store workers,” he tells you, clicking his tongue to get your attention and you turn around then follow him to the other end of the counter. He points at the glass. “These are all under three-thousand.”
“Oh…” you peer at them with interest, and he watches you. His eyes fall to your wrist.
“Here,” he says, sliding the display case door open, and pulls out another watch, “I think you’d look nice in this.”
He shows it to you for a second before releasing the clasp and holding onto your hand to slide the watch through it. After fastening it, he looks up at your expression, and his heart’s beating a bit faster. You turn your wrist in the air to marvel at the watch, and he thinks your eyes look stunning from the way the shimmer of the watch reflects off of them.
“Wow,” you say.
“I knew you’d look good in anything rose gold,” he says, both elbows on the counter as he watches you, “this one’s only a couple thousand.”
You’re still a little speechless as you look at it, right index finger tracing the dial. He wants to buy it for you. He could, it’s not much of an issue, he’d just have to kiss goodbye to that used gaming PC he’s been eyeing on craigslist for the past couple of months, but something in his gut tells him it’d be worth it. Something in the soft look in your eyes right now tells him it’d be worth it.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“That it’s beautiful,” you say to him, swallowing and then extending your wrist out to him. “Sorry, wearing it for too long. Probably lost a few hundred bucks in value just from the two minutes it was on my wrist.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll buy it for you.”
Your mouth gapes. “W-What?”
“I mean—if you actually like it. Then, I don’t mind,” he says, suddenly a bit flustered.
“Satoru. That’s insane. This is a two-thousand dollar watch.”
He shrugs. “I know, but it looks good on you. I can’t shoplift this one for you, though. But I’ll buy it if you actually want it. And if you lie and say you don’t like it, just to be nice, I’ll read right through it. So be honest.”
“I…” you start, “I really can’t accept that.”
His eyes are level with yours, and something about your persistence in your refusal just makes him want to buy it for you even more. But he’s not gonna push it anymore. He’ll just try to work towards a day where you’ll accept it from him. Where it won’t even be a question to want to decorate you in something as pretty as you are.
“Alright. Then give it back, it’s probably only worth a couple hundred now.”
a/n. hope you enjoyed!! this was fun to write. it was supposed to be longer but i cut it short so maybe part two lol?? i also wanna write versions for choso & suguru in this au lol maybe like a multi in one verse kinda thing haha i like the idea of a hot watch salesman trio. thank you for reading 💕
taglist: @ohsehuniiee @lost-resonance @whereflowerswenttodie @horisdope @therealestpussyeater @satorminniett @tobaccosunbxrst @alekssashka7 @ritsatoru @angrychinchillanoises @shleepyking @crimsonmarabou @mxlktae @bloopsstuff @slut-4-gojo @lil-cinn @wateronlyhaha @strawberiicreme @wintertoru @mo0nforme @whispersofbeskar @who-can-touch-my-boob @quinnyundertow @ramluvr @anthastudios @sabokunsmalia @ninjaturtletoes @rylierev @dvarlinggg @heyitsmirae @sleepyyammy @lofasofabread @lolthatsnice @tetsuski @bakuhoethotski @sureconfused
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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)
hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!
summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam
warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!
word count: 2,925
nsfw after the cut!!
You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.
...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.
Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.
Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.
"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.
"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"
His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.
"Use your words," he demanded.
"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.
"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.
"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.
"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.
He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.
“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.
“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.
“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”
With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.
“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.
“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.
“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.
“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.
“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.
“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.
“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.
“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.
“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.
“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.
“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.
“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.
When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.
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