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squidgamesmut · 2 years

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The Salesman | A game of cat and mouse 🌶️

General Masterlist

The Salesman Masterlist

MINORS DNI

It is your duty to track down the Salesman and take down the bane of your existence - the very Squid Game you won last year. Well, perhaps that you haven’t entirely been thinking straight, or have been completely fair to yourself.

Tags: NSFW, hate sex, dom/sub themes, public sex, degradation

Word count: 3K

“I will come and find you,” you had said through gritted teeth, “And when I do, I will flay your skin off your bones if you don’t tell me who you work for.”

You had meant it, too. However, the smug smirk of the Salesman had told you enough, that he had not at all been fazed by your threat. Perhaps that he knew that you would not find him, or perhaps just because he was not afraid of you.

Whatever it was, you knew that you hated him, and that stupid grin of his. No matter how attractive the well-dressed man was, you loathed him and the organisation.

After winning the Squid Game, you had made it your personal goal to burn it to the ground, deeply enraged by what they had done to you. At first, you hadn’t even considered getting in through the Salesman at first, for you had only seen him for a few insignificant minutes preluding your experiences at the Squid Game. However, you eventually realised that he was the very gateway to that place, so if there was anyone who would know where to enter, it had to be him.

It prompted a series of afternoons where you’d hang around the underground during rush hour to keep an eye out for the man you knew to be recruiting new players. It caused you to feel on edge whenever a man clad in a suit would exit or enter the tube, and after a few months of doing this - for you didn’t have to work anymore, anyways - you were close to giving up.

Until a moment that you saw him - no doubt, with his distinctive demeanour and handsome features - approach an old man who was asleep on a bench. Roused him. Invited him to play some games. Those red and blue Ddjaki tiles triggered something dark and painful within you.

“You!” you strode towards him, “You are one of the most vile men I’ve ever met! Give me your business card so I can call your boss. I am going to take you down!”

He ignored you, clearing his throat, “...Don’t mind this crazy woman. Every time you win, you get a hundred-thousand won–”

“Do not play it, sir,” you warned the old man, who seemed way too interested in the game, “He will reel you in with the promise of easy money and it will lead you to a death game!”

“A death game?”

The Salesman held up his hand. “This woman is clearly delusional. Do I seem like the type to fool you, sir? Everything I do is legal and fair. I want to give this money out to people who are in need.”

“My, I can barely believe my ears!” exclaimed the old man, delighted, “It just so happens to be that I need to pay big money to get my son back!”

The Salesman feigned a smile. “So, the rules are simple, you–”

You grabbed the Salesman at the tie, yanking him in such a way that he had no choice but to look at you lest he be choked out and watched you with bewildered eyes. You were seething. “Look into my eyes and tell me who you work for!”

The recruiter held up his hands defensively. “Miss, I don’t know who you are, really! You must be looking for someone else! I suggest that you put me down before I call the authorities.”

You roughly released him, holding up your palm. “Give me your business card.”

“Business card? What are you talking ab–”

Your fingers went to his suit jacket to take it out yourself, but he promptly grabbed your wrist.

“The nerve! This is assault! I won’t take this any longer.” He began putting the Ddjaki tiles back into his briefcase, giving the old man an apologetic smile. “Excuse me, sir. Perhaps that our paths will cross again one day.”

You were seething. “Don’t ignore my question! Who do you work for? Or do you need me to pull out your finger nails one by one for you to speak up?”

Whatever you said, the Salesman seemed to be unaffected, apologising once again to the man he had wanted to recruit. A tube halted at the platform, its doors opening, a horde of people rushing out.

The Salesman stood up and brushed past you as if you were nothing but air, and stepped inside the train. Just as you rushed after him, the doors slid shut in your face, much to your dismay. You slammed a fist onto them, letting out a cry of agony and rage, but were soon forced back, the Salesman looking at you with that smug smile on his face. “I will find you!” you raged, pointing at him accusingly. “You are going to answer for what you’ve done.”

Slightly out of breath, you looked after the leaving train, gathering yourself for a moment before turning back to the old man, who was staring at you as if you were crazy.

“What?!” you snapped, “I just saved your fucking life! You should be thankful!”

Angrily, you legged towards the schedule to see when the next tube would be leaving.

~*~*~

Seeing him again had rekindled your insatiable hunger for taking the entire shitshow down, and you increased the intensity of your hunt for him to also take place during mornings and evenings now. Day after day, you scouted the stations, in search of the very man who started it all.

No matter how hard you tried, he seemed to always be a step ahead. He’d step into the very tube you were waiting outside of, or if your gazes crossed, he packed up at once.

He knew you - of course he remembered you, for how could he not?

Every time your eyes met his, and whenever he showed that grin, something else ignited within you. Something dangerous, something balancing the very line between rage and lust. It was like a roaring, all-consuming fire.

Perhaps that it was a game.

You’d come for him, which gave his work an extra edge, and he was so close yet so far away. You could watch him, smell his cologne, feel his air as he brushed past you, but he was always just out of reach.

It was maddening, it was frustrating, and it caused tension.

You had started to enjoy his features more than you should, and began to feel a deep, searing lust whenever the idea of him crossed your mind. It was almost an obsession, this elusive recruiter. He was the very key you needed to take down that cursed organisation along with all its people.

You were almost at peace with the fact that you would never catch the Salesman. Since there was nothing left to do in your life otherwise, you kept trailing after him, staying on his track, hot on his heels yet always, always one step behind.

Until now.

You had entered the tube one station earlier so that you’d arrive in one of the trains the very moment he was playing Ddjaki at one of the platforms. Since you were the person exiting the train as soon as it arrived, and since it would leave again as you approached him, there would be nowhere for him to go. You’d trap him like a rat and demand answers once and for all.

You made sure to keep out of sight whilst in the train, making sure to sit close to a door. Crossing one leg over the other, you kept your eyes turned downwards, every so often letting your gaze flit up to the display to see how far away your final destination was.

Mere minutes before the platform you had calculated to be his current playing spot, you stood to stand in front of the doors. However, you froze in your place at once.

You looked out over the long train, all people looking away but one.

That same stupid smirk. A raise of his eyebrow. You began to walk towards him at once.

He turned away, ignoring your call. “Hey!” you spat, “You there! Stop that man!”

A few annoyed glares were sent your way as you made your way through the crowded cabin, the Salesman moving faster, apologising to other travellers as he manoeuvred himself quickly.

You kept your gaze fixated upon the back of his head - no hair was out of place, and he cast a glance backwards every so often to see if you were still following.

“Hey, watch it!” You almost tripped over someone’s bag, stumbling forward rather ungracefully, and mumbled an apology. Turning back to your mission, however, you saw that there was no sign of the Salesman, alarming you at once.

You hadn’t stopped at any station, so he had to be on the train still. You breathed a string of curses and continued legging through the tube, hoping to find him hiding somewhere within the crowd.

The front of the train was starting to appear in your field of view, but there was no sign of the man in question. A bit lost, you halted, letting your eyes inspect the masses of people around you.

The train jerked to a standstill, and a lot of people rose to exit. None of them noticed the door of the toilet opening, nor did you. An arm around your waist dragged you inside, causing you to yelp, but nobody was paying attention.

“Hey!” you shouted as the door slammed shut, and as you turned to the person who had yanked you inside, you felt your anger boil inside of you. The Salesman gave you a small smirk, though standing awfully close in the crowded space.

“Hello,” he breathed, smiling. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Let me out,” you said, face flushing at his proximity. “This is assault.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly kind to me either. What do you want from me? Why do you keep pursuing me?”

You scoffed. “Haven’t you heard anything I said last time we spoke? I am going to take you all down, you and your organisation.”

He laughed lightly. “Do you really think that it would be that easy, hm?” he quizzed. “We’re larger than you can even comprehend. Just getting me in trouble will lead to nothing. Calling the organisation by using my business card or reporting them to the authorities will lead to nothing. Perhaps that they’d lock you up for displaying foolish behaviour, let you cool down for a while.”

You narrowed your eyes firmly, brow furrowing. “Fuck you,” you seethed, “Stop smiling.”

“What, is my charm too attractive? Is that why you’re following me, hm?”

He tucked some hair behind your ear and you blushed furiously, slapping it away. “Don’t touch me, you creep! Do you really think that trying to flirt with me will make me forget about who you are?”

“Do you really know who I am, then?” he asked, your heartbeat quickening. He leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “You don’t even know my name. You won’t be able to trace anything back to me. Why do you keep coming back? Not that I mind seeing your pretty face every day, but you know that you are lying to yourself, right?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at him with softening eyes, drinking in his sheer charisma. Suddenly, you imagined kissing him, a deep snog filled with hatred, confusion and burning desire.

The Salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing. “(Y/n),” he mused, taking your chin between his fingers, “Are you just running after me in the hopes of getting my attention?”

“N-No.” you stuttered, closing your eyes at the sound of your own voice. The recruiter laughed a bit, shaking his head.

“Your body tells me otherwise.” He laid one hand on your neck, checking your pulse. You swallowed thickly, trying to take control over your breathing. “Be frank with me,” he whispered, leaning closer.

His breath tickled the shell of your ear. “If you want me to stop, or if what I am saying is untrue, just say so right now and I will let you go. Then, don’t ever come and find me again, for you will know that with me you will get no step further towards taking down the organisation. If what I am saying is true, however…”

The Salesman pulled back from your neck and eyed you with dark eyes, gaze falling towards your lips, “If you desire me, just say so, so that I can take you.”

Your lips moved soundlessly in puzzlement and excitement, your mind running rampant with thoughts of him. He watched you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

“Fucking ruin me,” you breathed at once, overcome by your arousal for him. He groaned, kissing you roughly, tongue hungrily delving into your mouth.

He tasted exactly like you had imagined he would taste, and you shivered with need, pushing your legs together to relieve some of the tension. He nipped at your bottom lip, smirking. “I will not instruct you on your knees in a public restroom,” he promised, causing your gut to spin, “But you have cost me so much money and potential players, you know… I should punish you for that in one way or the other. But not here - even I have standards.”

You slipped your fingers over his tie, tugging him down for another searing kiss. He took easy dominance, but not that you minded. Adrenaline pulsed through you, and you desperately moaned when his mouth travelled towards your neck, sucking the skin against it. You braced yourself on the wall, hoping that it would be strong enough to hold up your heavily leaning body, and gasped at a nibble of your earlobe.

“So,” he purred, “Who would’ve thought? I figured you hated me, yet you let me ravage you like you’re nothing but prey. Who’s the cat, and who is the mouse?”

He slipped one hand over the column of your throat, watching you with lust-blown pupils. There was an air about him that made your knees weak with want, and you watched him with pleading eyes.

“Little mouse,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you deeply again. His hand snaked under your shirt, surprisingly warm against your bare skin, and you jerked slightly in surprise. He let out an amused huff and turned you in his arms, pushing you flush against the door of the stall.

“I would spank you if I could,” he muttered, “One slap for every hundred-thousand won your little shenanigans have cost me. But this is not the place. No, I am just going to ruin you, just as you told me to do.” He pushed his face into your neck and inhaled deeply.

A sharp gasp escaped you when you felt his hand push up your skirt and pry aside your knickers. “Little soaked mouse,” he groaned in your hair, “So fucking tight. All for me to be devoured.”

You heard the sound of a buckle opening and you bit your lip in anticipation, trying to look over your shoulder to see how sizable he was. The Salesman pushed back your head, “Face on the door,” he ordered, and you felt his tip press against your dripping entrance.

Your slick made for easy access, but his size split you in half nevertheless. You moaned, hoping that the movements of the train would mask it, even though the walls were thin. The recruiter laced the fingers of one hand into your hair and bottomed out in one swift movement, causing you to bite down on your own hand, lest the people on the other side hear it.

“You can’t even start to understand,” groaned the Salesman, “How often I have imagined fucking that tight pussy of yours. To have you begging for my seed like the little mouse you are. So desperate and needy, eager to swallow it all. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined the same, little mouse.”

You whimpered at his size and the stretch, but your walls were clamping around him, your ass moving against him with movements mimicking his own to intensify the pleasure. You were vaguely aware that you were getting railed in one of the filthiest places of Seoul, but then, you figured you couldn’t have expected better.

“You’re enjoying this so much, aren’t you?” the Salesman praised, “I can feel it deep inside of you. You’re so wet, if I had known this I would have fucked you much earlier.”

Bracing yourself against the wall, you wanted to breathe his name, realising that you didn’t know it. Instead, you called him the first thing that sprung to mind.

“Please, sir.”

His cock twitched inside of you as he pulled you against his pelvis once again, momentarily stilling. “What did you just call me?”

“S-Sir…”

He angled your head to the side with an able hand to push his tongue into your mouth. “That’s right,” he whispered after a few seconds of passionate liplock, “That’s right. Beg for me.”

“Oh, give me your seed, sir!” you whimpered, sweat leaking down your brow, “I need it, sir!”

With a few firm thrusts and a few twitches of his cock, he spilled himself deep inside of you, fleeting fingers on your clit pushing you over your climax. You had to physically keep yourself from falling onto the filthy floor, knees almost too weak to stand as pleasure overtook you in a shattering orgasm.

The Salesman pulled out, cum oozing from your hole as he quickly put your knickers back over it, which had been pushed to the side. It gathered on the inside and made you feel sticky, but you did not mind it.

“Good girl,” said the Salesman, tucking himself back into his slacks before reaching over to the tap to wash his hands. “Good little mouse. Now, it’s time for you to go out, for you’ve reached your destination.”

Just now you noticed that the train had come to a standstill. “But… But…” Stumbling over your words, you anxiously unlocked the door, hoping that no one would walk in. The Salesman smiled his signature smirk and reached out, waiting for you to take something from him.

It was a rectangular card with a number on the back.

“A business card,” he clarified, “Though not the one you originally wanted.”

He opened the door for you, pushing you outside the cubicle. You looked at him with slight indignance, still taken aback and dishevelled for the way he had just fucked you raw and now waved you off like you were nothing but a customer. He closed the door in your face, leaving you feeling puzzled as slick ran down your thigh.

Quickly exiting the tube, you went to look at the card.

Call me. It read, alongside his name.

Immediately, you reached for your phone.

#squid game smut #squid game #reader insert #squid game x reader #x reader #squid game fanfic #salesman x reader #the salesman x reader #gong yoo x reader

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whorror-barbie · 2 years

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A good lesson in fucking (au! Virgin! Ceo! The Salesman x Bimbo! sugar baby! Fem! Reader) (part 1)

general series summary: you find out your sugar daddy is a virgin and you would love to help him explore his sexual desires

Warnings: nothing explicit at this time, maybe some suggestive language and sexual themes. this fic is 18+, so you've been warned.

A/n: I just wanted to write about an older handsome man whose a virgin( so literally a 40 year-old virgin lol) and btw I'm giving him the name Seok-woo again, so I'm not always calling him the salesman, so I hope that's fine with y'all. Enjoy :)

P.s: I have an AO3 account under the name whorrorwritings, part 2 will be up on there by the time I post this part on here, if you can't wait head over there and read it if you want to!

"Wait, you're going over to his house?! You don't even know him" that is the sound of your distressed friend on the other side of the phone.

" Oh, will you stop worrying. He seems like such a nice guy " you open up a pretty pink box to see a really cute yet sophisticated dress. "Honey, just because he buys you stuff, doesn't mean he's a nice guy." She tries to reason with you as you're trying on the dress he wanted you to wear for the meetup, It hugs your curves beautifully as you look at yourself in the mirror. " I mean, you told me you don't even know his name or what he looks like, what if he's a serial killer..you never know" she continues and let out a sigh as you're still smiling.

"Look, I get your concerns, but I'll be fine, and besides it doesn't hurt to meet the guy who financially supported me for 6 months when I was settling here" you do not really understand why she's so worried. sure she has a point, he's seen only ever seen you and your body online multiple times, but don't know a thing about him. Finally, you hear her sigh coming from the other side of the line. "I know you're not going to listen, but please be safe and text me if you need anything, I'll be there so fast I swear" you giggle at your worried friend. " I'll keep you posted, I'll talk to you later, bye, " you say cheerfully and you both hang up. You are fully ready, now it's time to leave for your date.

30 minutes later, you arrive at his beautiful home by a car he sent out for you. Looking around and starting to approach the home, you're regretting this with every heartbeat as you walk closer. what if your friend is right? What if he does murder you? There is no turning back now. you ring the doorbell anyways, waiting until you are greeted by a tall, handsome man at the door.

"hey, miss it's finally nice to meet you," he says so kindly, you look into his eyes and it was love at first. You were not expecting this gorgeous man to be your sugar daddy, but you definitely were not complaining at all. In a matter of seconds, you were already planning a wedding, and having a family with this man "are you ok?" You look up at him "oh sorry" as you enter his home.

Inside his home is beautifully furnished and spacious, but that is to be excepted from a rich CEO. "I must say you're as gorgeous in person." he says with a bit of nervousness in his voice as he's scratching the back of his head "oh, why thank and you're quite a handsome gentleman." You giggle slightly which makes him arrange his tie at your response, he seems to be feeling hot?

" by the way... my name is Seok-Woo... I don't think I ever told you my name before..umm ever" he laughs nervously. "Oh, Seok-Woo? what a nice name." You smile brightly. The two of you are just standing there in awkward silence for a minute as you look up at him with your pretty eyes, and he starts to look around out of nervousness.

"so..um did you eat anything yet? I can umm. set something up" he asked you politely. " Oh, sure I can go for a snack" nodding at him. "Ok, I'll be right back then" he bows slightly then heads into his kitchen.

While he's doing that, you start to wander around his house looking at the beautiful paintings that hang on the walls, taking in his decor. making your own journey around his house until you see a door slightly open to a room, begging for someone to enter it. The curiosity is killing you, so you go inside to check it out.

upon entering, you see nothing but a bunch of half-naked anime figurines on his shelf against each corner of his walls, and you look in awe "wow, what a cute doll" you let out a ditzy laugh, holding one of the figurines in your hand as you inspect it ''wow, she's very curvy" tilting your head then look at your own body." what else does he have in here?'' you proceeds to look around when you spot a stack of hentai mangas and so you pick it up to read the title.

"Super big titty sluts xxx" you say out loud to yourself then open up the book to flip the pages, and you see some very lewd images which makes your face feel like it's on fire, it was nothing but big titties everywhere, and dicks going in every hole. "The pages are stuck together? I wonder why?" As you try to continue to read the manga, figuring out the storyline.

"Hey! Why are you in here?" You jump so hard, dropping his manga and figurine in the process " Oh my god, I'm sorry! I was just waiting..and and I.." your face still feels so hot at what you saw. Wow, he's into some freaky stuff you thought. when he sees you drop his figurine, he wanted to lose it on you, but he remains calm. those figurines are his prize possessions, he's paid a pretty penny for all of them.

"Oh, well... please don't do this again." He says softly as he goes over to pick up his figurine and carefully places it back on the shelf, he looks over her to make sure you didn't mark her up " Umm.. so you want to watch a movie together?" his attention on you now, nodding your head yes as you leave out of his very interesting room.

😳

10 minutes into this suspense drama, it's pretty good so far. You start moving your body closer to his to rest your head on his shoulder. You can feel him put his arm around your arm awkwardly in response. You sigh of relief, looking up at him into his eyes, but he looks away fast.

"Are you enjoying this movie, babes?" You giggle as you feel him trying not to look down at your cleavage . " Umm...yeah..it's good.. how about you? do you like the film?'' He asks, trying to focus his attention on the movie. " I mean it's definitely interesting, but I'm more interested in you, Seok-Woo" he can feel himself getting hard at your voice alone, you're as sexy as the women he sees in the hentai on his computer screen every night.

"how about this?" You straddle his lap, facing him. you're feeling his boner twitching in his dress pants" oh wow, I can feel how big you are, impressive." you giggle with the motion of your boobs jiggling and he looks nervous, though he is enjoying the view. "How about we have some fun? I at least owe you for taking care of me" You wink at him then proceed to kiss on the crook of his neck as you grab his hands so he feels up your ass, but he doesn't squeeze it. you're grinding on him and moaning like a needy whore into his neck. Seok-Woo's eyes are closed while grunting under his breath, focusing on feeling your pussy lips with his tip. this is the perfect scenario that he's been dreaming about, he might cum from this alone.

You reach for his belt to remove it, but his hand stops you in mid-motion. Surprised, you look up at him and his facial expression is reading regret it seems "Stop, Hun" he says out of breath. " Not now" he looks down. Feeling confused, but You get off of him, and sit back down on the couch, this is very awkward now. "I'm really sorry, Seok-Woo...I hope I didn't offend you" did you read the room wrong? Is he not into you like you thought he was.

"you should leave" he simply says which was another dagger to your heart. grabbing your purse as you get up to leave and he follows you to the door. "Text me to let me know that you got home safely... and oh I'll be wiring your weekly allowance to your account tomorrow, have a good night," he says then shuts the door in your face, not giving you a second to respond.

Tears start to stream down your face. You're feeling horrible and embarrassed. that's when your Phone is ringing off in your purse so you check to see that it's your friend, Hong-Ga young again, so you pick it up.

"Oh thank God, he didn't murder you," she says but then she hears you sniffling. "Oh..what's the matter? Are you alright?" Her voice sounds very worried, and you try to keep your composure. " Yeah, I'm ok, Ummm can you pick me up?" You wipe away the tears with your sleeve. " Of course! I'll be there in a second" she says hastily. Both of you say your byes then hang up the phone.

While you are chilling on his steps with your morbid thoughts clouding your mind. a big raindrop falls on your knee, and out of nowhere rain starts to violently poor down. With no umbrella in sight, you're all drenched now, can this night get any worse? You just need to bundle up in a blanket and forget about this night that ever happened, hoping everything will be better tomorrow.

#gong yoo #salesman imagine #salesman x y/n #salesman x reader #squid game fanfic #squid games smut

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wyvernne · 1 year

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slime fic??? 😭😭.. what do you mean?

diluc turns into a slime 😕

#i’m jk #i promise it’s not a diluc x slime fic 💀#it’s a solo smut fic #mutated whopperflower pollen #and a raunchy ~adult~ toy made from slime condensate sent by a fontaine salesman #even though the in game description for the slime drops says it’s not skin safe i do what i want fr

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oldshowbiz · 2 years

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#tabloids #salesman #vintag #vintage smut

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writeformesinpie · 2 years

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Hello writeformesinpie. It is I, your number one fan. Thank you for your hard work and amazing fanfictions. I'm looking forward to your next kdrama fic. Do you happen to write for media apart from anime and kpop? Like Marvel or Star Wars? Thanks.

Lol lol lol hello lovely 🥰

I actually have had this idea for The Mandalorian for a long time but just never got around to writing it. It is pretty saucy 😈🥵 lol

I wouldn’t be opposed to writing for other fandoms - I really don’t have a preference. I’ve never received a request for something else so I usually just stick to kpop, anime and kdrama.

When I watched Alice In Borderland and Squid Game I just couldn’t stop myself from writing for Niragi and The Salesman - they practically wrote themselves. They were a lot of fun so I am always open to try something new 🥰

I am currently working on a few Lee Dong Wook and Gong Yoo fics right now actually - so I hope you will enjoy them when I finally post them haha

#number 1 fan anon #mando x reader #marvel smut #Star Wars smut #the salesman x reader #gong yoo smut #lee dong wook smut #squid game #alice in borderland #the mandalorian #mandalorian smut #Niragi x reader

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celestie0 · 2 months

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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

3K notes · View notes

zwhoreo · 4 months

Note

Luffy accidentally eating/taking aphrodisiac and reader has to deal with the results.

HAPPY 2024!!! :D here’s my longest fic ever as a celebration

can’t come down - aphrodisiac luffy x f!reader

smut with some angst

summary: thinking it was regular chocolate, you accidentally give luffy several doses of a potent aphrodisiac. now he needs you to take care of him

contains: accidental intoxication, luffy in discomfort/distress, tears, some uncomfortable sex, overstimulation, luffy and zoro in a brief sexual situation

words: 4.8k

_______________________________

It’s all your fault. You’ve hurt him, the little angel. A pleasant but burning pain, he’s attached to you, drooling on your neck and he’s been going for hours and he’s rubbing inside you ceaselessly, you’re dripping with him. He’s whimpering, this sweet boy. His eyes are blown out and hazy and he won’t stop just gazing at you, open-mouthed whimpers while he rubs inside you so deep and rough that god, you can feel it blooming and aching in your stomach, squeezed as you breathe so with every breath he moans in frustration and desire. Luffy just wanted chocolate, it’s all your fault.

______________________________

This town is seedy and dark. You like it because you can’t find these sorts of shops in regular port towns, places selling hallucinogens and fake medicine and alcohol for 100 berries a bottle. The sex shops don’t even board up their windows, that’s why you and Nami thought why not, let’s explore.

It’s not a serious shopping trip, more of a chance to laugh, tease each other, indulge in curiosity. This store’s set into the ground, beneath a metal stairway, it’s starting to rain so you two run for cover in the most interesting place.

The sex shop, which is very dim, all lantern light, is filled with things neither of you had ever seen before or thought to consider. The salesman is pushy, coming from behind the counter to try to sell you things you certainly hadn’t come there for. You laugh and walk around and whisper to each other. And even though you’re in a loving relationship these aren’t things you’ve thought to consider. Luffy wouldn’t like any of this. You would never do something to hurt or confuse him, not when you’re both vulnerable like that. But these low prices intrigue Nami who tells you that hey, why not get some cute lingerie?

“They’ve got a whole wall of it!” She points to the colorful selection of lace and silk and you do admit, it’s beautiful. It’s not something Luffy would care about really but you’d feel pretty in it, maybe. They’ve even got these cute little translucent night dresses that look so comfortable.

So you approach the salesman with your arms full of lingerie and he looks eager to be selling to two beautiful women. He keeps talking about deals and discounts, and with a little wink he throws in a special offer, with those two night dresses you’re buying you get free aphrodisiacs. Chocolate aphrodisiacs in a little white box and he keeps telling you these things are powerful. It’s a special deal, just for you. And with laughter and encouragement from Nami you say why not. You take them, even though you don’t think you’ll ever use them.

___________________________

Weeks go by. That little box, it rests forgotten in some dresser drawer. You tend to forget things at sea.

And there’s this island, more of an ocean mountain really, with jagged cliffs for beaches but there’s a small jungle on top, there might be food or resources up there. So Sanji and Zoro are going to go, and Luffy absolutely insists on coming with them. He’s all excited about it, hyper, rolling on his feet because he’s been kept away too long on the ship and he wants to explore.

But he’s not feeling quite himself. You’ve been short on food and Luffy’s had it bad, never satisfied after meals for the last couple days. That’s why this ocean mountain is the center of your universe with only the promise of a grove of mango trees, a flock of quail. So he’s begging you, pawing at your knees as you sit in bed and begging to get something to eat before he goes exploring. You try to help, maybe there’s something in a drawer, you get to your knees and dig through your dresser while Luffy crouches behind you, leaning on your back, you feel his warmth through your shirt. He’s impatient so he bites the back of your neck, tender but sharp.

You find the little box. You have no memory, in that moment, of where you got it. There’s no label, and you later think to yourself why the hell was there no label? but of course it doesn’t cross your mind right here. It’s a little box of chocolates and before you even have a chance to remember, Luffy snatches them out of your hand and says thank you and kisses you quickly on the cheek, cupping your face, his lips wet from hunger. And he sprints away, leaving you blushing, sitting there on your floor with a little smile.

_________________________

He’s beginning to feel very warm but it’s just the sun, probably. He takes off his cardigan, carrying it on his arm. His skin glistens golden in the light, a perfectly burnt brown, but now he’s going red with flush creeping from his face to his shoulders. Luffy’s breathing is irregular now, shuddering. He looks around, the trees wavering just a bit in a cloudy haze through his eyes.

“Sanji?” And he reaches for Sanji’s hand because for some reason he craves contact right now. But Sanji pulls away, feeling the layer of sweat coating Luffy’s palm. “I feel weird.”

Sanji’s eyes wander him. He can sense there’s something not right in Luffy’s stare, something dulled and far away. Something’s wrong, what’s wrong?

“Luffy?” Sanji doesn’t know what to do in these kinds of situations. “You should go see Chopper,” he says finally with his hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gingerly.

“Don’t wanna go back yet.” Luffy’s complaining despite the discomfort. And when he sees that Sanji won’t tell him anything he wants to hear, he turns and disappears into the underbrush, maybe water will help, something cold.

So he comes to this little pond, crystal clear and dappled by sunlight, there’s frogs on the lilly pads. If he wades to his thighs he won’t pass out, probably. There isn’t much care for himself in this moment, just a need to get rid of this burning. So he strips off his jeans which helps, strangely. A breeze hits his now bare body. He feels raw in a way he never has before.

That’s a yearning need to touch himself, but no, Luffy doesn’t think about that. He’s hot so he needs to get in the water. He stumbles on the rocks because his vision isn’t quite right. He shouldn’t go to his waist but that’s where the burning is. Ankles then knees then thighs, ripples lap between his legs, he’s left panting and tingling, that water is hitting nerve endings and with every wave comes friction that makes his body twitch. He wants more.

His hand flies to his cock as if by impulse, all of a sudden. There’s no thoughts now, just need, his hand rubs himself messily even though Luffy has no control, no concept of what he’s doing or why.

God, please.

He bends over a little, head down. Beads of sweat from his brow speckling the water as his whole body shakes back and forth and his muscles spasm. Frustration fogs his mind, with every pump it only stretches his skin, not enough friction, his hand is clamped down so tight that it’s doing nothing for him. He feels like crying. He hates that he wants to go home.

But this isn’t home. And as Luffy moans unabashedly this sounds like cries from pain, which they are, a bit. So it’s Zoro who hears him and without a second thought he’s tearing through the underbrush, tripping over his own feet, led blindly by his worst sound in the world — Luffy crying.

He shouts his name and crashes through the trees, he’s in the clearing and looking around desperately but what he sees makes him yell again. There’s Luffy, the love of Zoro’s life, completely naked and wading in the water of that crystal clear pond and moving sporadically as he rubs his cock, so painfully rock hard, over and over in this animalistic desperation as he cries and whimpers. He doesn’t know where he is or who’s around him and he doesn’t see Zoro.

Until he’s shoved from the side, a powerful push that sends him tumbling into the water, cruel cold water that sucks him in and starts a familiar panic within his heart that makes him forget for a moment about that burning inside him.

“WHAT THE FUCK, LUFFY?!” Zoro pulls him by his hair, shaking him, throwing him on the rocks and looking at Luffy with these stricken eyes, unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. His composure in that moment is shattered, his fists are clenched.

They’ve seen each other naked so many times. They’ve bathed and held and carried each other with nothing between their skin, it’s just how it happens sometimes when you’re that close. But this intimacy, this state Luffy’s in, it’s like nothing Zoro was prepared to see or could even really imagine out of Luffy. Something is horribly wrong.

“Zoro…” and Luffy’s taken up in his arms because no disgust or awkwardness comes before helping a friend who’s hurting. “I feel… I dunno… what’s- …”

Luffy’s voice is so slurred, his body is tense and so solid but yet somehow he’s still melting. Zoro’s finding it hard to look at him, do anything other than just sit there and hold him, uncomfortable at how he can feel that heat from between Luffy’s legs radiating and blooming condensation on Zoro’s skin. He has absolutely no idea how to even begin to approach this situation. So he’s rough and sloppy as he dresses his friend, his cardigan’s on and his sandals are on and his hat has been slammed over his eyes. But Zoro, teeth gritted, has to shove Luffy’s cock in his jeans himself because this boy is useless like this. He’s silently vowing to never talk or think about this moment again, how sticky his hands now feel, how Luffy moans as he’s touched and leans into Zoro and how his cock twitches with an overpowering need to fuck anything that’s close.

Zoro won’t think about this again. He just picks Luffy up and carries him away without saying a word.

______________________________

You’re just looking out the window. Unmoving sun, unmoving sea. You want to eat or go somewhere and maybe you should’ve begged and made them take you on the island.

Is it the island, or do you just miss Luffy?

But it’s not long before your door is kicked open, you jump, eyes wide, whipping around to find Zoro cradling your boyfriend, who looks sick. Fear shoots through you and closes your throat especially when you see Zoro’s eyes, vacant and upset and he looks dissociated, blank.

“Oh god, Luffy.” You run to him and your hands go to his face and just stroke his cheeks, he’s sweaty and burning up like he’s caught in a deep fever. “What happened?” Your eyes are wild and scared as you turn to Zoro.

“I don’t know what you gave him. Just… deal with it.” Zoro dumps Luffy into your arms and you stumble as he curls up into you, drooling all over your neck. And Zoro gives his shoulder one last squeeze and turns away, closing the door behind him, running off down the hall, somewhere where he can’t hear that crying anymore.

And yes, Luffy’s crying. You set him down on your bed, rubbing the back of his head and holding his hand. “Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Dunno what’s happening…” Luffy’s eyes are pleading and endlessly deep right now. His legs are kicking against the air and he keeps shifting around, he can’t sit still.

With his free hand he’s rubbing between his legs like he’s scratching an itch, but he doesn’t stop, your gaze follows him and oh, oh fuck. He’s got this tight, obvious hardness in his jeans. Straining so hard the zipper is shaking with tension. You’ve never seen anything like this.

Your mind is racing, this isn’t just horniness, Luffy has never been sexsick like this before.

You trace it all back and nothing was wrong when he left. Just bright eyed innocence, affection, nothing strange. And suddenly it hits you, that box, those chocolates.

Oh god. Oh my god.

You fed him an aphrodisiac. An aphrodisiac from a sketchy shop in an old-town basement, a powerful drug, just one would keep you up a whole night.

And you let Luffy eat them all.

“Lu… god, I’m sorry,” is all you can say as he crawls into your lap and breathes on your face. You take off his hat and ruffle his hair. How can you even explain this to him? He’s not going to understand. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault, I gave you an aphrodisiac by mistake.” You’re choked up. You hurt him.

“…” Luffy’s mouth is hanging open, drool coating his chin, dazed, so confused. “Hm?” His voice is even gravelier than normal.

“Those weren’t normal chocolates. They make your body… ready for sex? It’s supposed to be a fun thing. B- but I forgot they weren’t just normal chocolates! God, I’m so sorry.” You’re breaking down, you’re cuddling with him now, head on his shoulder.

“Oh.” You can’t really tell how much he understands. And his voice is quiet when he asks, “when’s it gonna go ‘way?”

“…I don’t know. I’m gonna try to help, ok? Let’s fuck for a few hours and get it out. It’s gonna be ok, Lu.”

His pupils expand when you say this, his eyes going from brown to deep black. He wants that so, so bad. He’s just sort of figuring that out now. “Heh, yeah.” He squirms in your lap, cock so hard you can feel his zipper sliding down on its own, as his breath gets heavier, this desperate ball of energy spasming in your arms.

Then he smiles. And he attacks.

He flips you onto your back and groans, hips thrusting into yours as his lips find your mouth, saliva leaking past your lips, you swallow as they part. You’re wearing these soft cotton shorts and you feel his aching cock smacking the fabric as it pushes and strains to break free from his pants with every motion. He moans so loud you know everyone can hear. Now he’s drooling again, spitting on your face because he’s lost control of his jaw, you’re winded but you grab his face and kiss him, he didn’t even know he needed this.

He falls on you now. He’s all splayed out and whining and just kissing you as if he’s been challenged, teeth and tongue working through every part of your mouth. He’s loud when he kisses, and now every breath is a groan of want.

“Undress me…” you whisper to him, grabbing the back of his neck, he seems like he’ll explode if he keeps on like this without being deep inside you.

With a strangled “Mh,” Luffy’s fingernails scrape your skin in a desperate attempt to pull off your dress. He’s ripping cloth, damn, you can hear him ripping cloth. Nothing you can do now.

But you can tell as your skin shines bare and he tears his own clothes from his body, as his sweat drenches you and that heat like a tropical hurricane all over but especially where it pools between his legs and oh you’d be scared if you looked there now, you can tell he’s about to just go in you with no thought or reason and harder than he’s ever gone before. So — and you hate to do this — you grab his shoulders. You stare him in the eyes.

“Luffy. Listen to me.”

your eyes reach his soul, he tries to look at you with anything close to coherence, he wants to follow your lead, he doesn’t understand anything right now. But there’s a hailstorm inside his mind. But he tries to listen.

“Don’t be too rough, please, can you promise?” Your voice is shaky because you’re not sure what he’s about to do. Luffy would never intentionally hurt you but he’s powerful, his body is strange, he works in ways neither of you understand. He has the power to really, really damage you and the carelessness to not see it happening. So you beg him with your eyes.

“I promise,” he gasps softly, one hand curling behind your neck, and he presses his face against your cheek, trying to harden his eyes in the gentle seriousness of the moment. Luffy is incapable of feeling sadism towards you of any kind and he’s at war with his body and the energy bursting within him right now. But he promises.

You smile and your feet rest on his hips and thighs, you feel him sizzling beneath your touch. The surface of his skin wavers before your eyes from the heat, you understand now the idea of mirages, he looks covered in amber rain even as his skin burns beneath your hands.

“Slow,” you ask softly in his ear, making Luffy whine in hunger.

There it is. What you don’t dare look at you can feel. Swollen and throbbing it feels like a whole other animal is just clawing there beneath that rice paper skin. You can feel his heartbeat in the tip of his cock as he touches you and it speeds up thousands of times in an instant. His thighs clamp around yours and his nails are sharp and Luffy groans in your ear. He’s made of nerve endings that send him twitching writhing with every tiny movement. He needs you now.

He pushes himself in and every bit of friction sends him convulsing against you, squeezing you tighter. You can feel the struggle in his muscles to hold back but that deep, tangible yearning for relief. He’s in and you’re both gasping for air. You’re not used to the size or the heat or that artificially induced power that’s overcome his body. But you’re proud of him and you tug his hair to tell him a quiet thank you, you’re ok, he’s keeping you safe.

All your touches are too much. His hips move messily against you like he doesn’t have the capacity to understand what to do right now. But he’s just going to follow that deep primal craving so he rocks into you with all his weight, crushing you again and again, eyes closed, mouth trying to find yours.

It’s the movement but also the way you’re being held. It’s a scary heaven. He’s going deep and he’s not pulling out just throwing himself against you over and over as if there’s any more he has to go. He’s whimpering and his body is shaking in need.

But he goes faster and now this is what you’re scared of, weighted rubber moves and stretches with momentum, he’s squeezing you tighter and tighter and with each slam against your body his cock buries into you so impossibly deep as his skin stretches and snaps within you. You whine and try to steady him but Luffy’s in this cloud right now. His teeth are digging deep into your neck and he’s drooling all over you, saliva dripping down your shoulder and chest.

When he cums it’s so hot it feels like lava. There’s so much of it. That relief at the slowness, liquid soothing beaten flesh, that’s heaven as you lay beneath him, wrapped in his arms. Is it over? No, no it isn’t.

But first, while he’s stunned and unable to move, you squish his face in your hands. “Luffy,” you breathe heavily into his mouth, “be more gentle. Please. You’re gonna hurt me.”

His eyes are wide and concerned. “I hurt you?” he whimpers from his swollen, shiny lips.

“I’m ok, don’t worry, just please be more gentle.” And you smile at him. That sets something off in his heart and you feel him harden again inside you.

He grins, lifting you back so you’re pressed against his chest, on his lap. And he shoves you down against him as you squirm in his arms, he rolls your hips on his as his strong hands take total control of your body, hungry eyes gazing at you with deep, immeasurable lust. From this new position he has so much control, he’s using your body for his release in as loving a way as possible, biting at your skin. You’re left to twitch in his grasp and hug him, letting yourself bask in this incredible tsunami.

The bouncing and stretching of his cock isn’t as bad in this position although you’re still impossibly full, limp in the overwhelming motion. But that heat is becoming uncomfortable, your cheek from its rest on his shoulder is covered in layers of sweat and you feel it pooling around every point of contact. He smells like burning rubber and thick, palpable sweat. His skin begins to sear your hands and you only realize what’s happening when he starts to steam. Billowing steam clouding your room and soaking you in hot, wet air like you’re in an erupting volcano. You’re not sure which gear he’s changing to and you don’t want to find out.

“LUFFY!” You yell through your haze and hit his back and it’s so hard to talk to him like this, his moans are drowning out your cries, he’s moving faster and faster and his hair and mouth and the area between your legs is already lost in clouds of white steam. “STOP!”

He yelps and rolls off of you. Your words cut his heart. You’re both drenched and your bed is soaking, your hair in your eyes dripping down your face mixed with tears you didn’t even know were there. Luffy looks confused, disoriented, he’s still steaming but it’s slowing now, his skin is dulling to its usual hue, his hair falls back over his face. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You were changing gears,” you murmur under your breath. “Luffy, that could’ve been bad.”

“I’m- I’m sorry…” he whimpers and looks down at himself. There’s still a cloud of blinding steam circling up the shaft of his cock, blooming from his tip and shimmering in droplets rolling down the red, tight skin. He looks at you with puppy eyes, needing your arms again.

You let him crawl to you. You let him place his head under your hand to be pet and comforted. He feels terrible but he feels sick, too, a sickness only cured by the deepest and most indescribable pleasure. He’s melting in your arms, as needy as when he was given to you, eyes blurry. You let him rest his head in your lap and drink in your scent, blankets tucked between his legs for the slightest friction.

“It’ll feel better if you don’t go so fast,” you say softly, stroking his wet hair. And he nods.

“Can I have more now? I’ll be better to ya. I really promise.”

His hands feel gentler now. You let him climb your body and capture you in another deep kiss. And with your legs crossed behind his back you let him fuck you again and chase his second orgasm and he’s right, he’s better now. He’s fighting with his body but he’s better.

When he cums again it feels boiling hot. It’s shot after shot deep inside you and he tugs your hair, bites your shoulder, strokes your lower stomach before moving down to rub at your clit which is incredible because he never thinks of that. This drug is making him different, his mind is overwhelmed by sex in a way it never is. Part of you likes it a lot. It’s new. It’s fun.

It doesn’t take him long before he’s hard again and dragging his cock through your walls in deep, deliberate strokes with his tongue in your mouth. Luffy is a million miles above the earth. With every orgasm his world shakes and crumbles for an instant before it’s rebuilt again in waves of desire that send him higher, higher. He’s a million miles above the earth and even as hours slip by and his body is drained again and again, he can’t come down.

__________________________

At some point the ship has set sail again. Clouds crawl by the porthole and the ocean rocks you both but you and Luffy stay in that soaked bed and get lost in each other for so long that you don’t even know what’s real anymore. You can’t tell sensation from sensation. Neither can he but he can’t come down.

There was that perfect sweet spot where you had just swam in each other in bliss and peace. You didn’t have to stop his gear changes anymore because his body had adjusted to this new universe. And you were in tune with each other. But now, now it’s bad again.

But in a different way.

Luffy is exhausted but so desperate still. His tears have started again and he doesn’t know what to do and he can’t even move and every part of his body aches. You’ve never seen him like this during sex, he’s never weak or tired. But his body is drained.

But that drug won’t let go.

“You ok?” you’re whispering, hand on his face. You lift Luffy in your arms and place him on his back. His eyes won’t leave yours, he’s starry eyed and love struck through his tears.

“Mh…” is all you can make out. He looks down at himself, his body is dripping wet and his cock is hard again, throbbing hard in overstimulation.

Every touch seems like it’s painful to him now. But he wants more so, so bad. So you place a pillow under his head, you curl up against his body, and you rub him with your hand. Your arm gets tired but you keep going for as long as you possibly can. And sometimes Luffy will open his mouth in a silent, breathless moan, sometimes his body will convulse and his cock will twitch. But his orgasms are dry now. There’s nothing left in him.

The last one, that’s when he grabs your face. With his last bit of strength he rolls onto you and clutches your cheeks in his hands and just stares at you, not letting you move, his thighs squeezing your leg. He rubs himself off on you one last time and with a final shudder he’s done. It’s all gone. It’s over.

He collapses into your arms, too tired to breathe anymore. You expect him to just sleep right there but instead he twists onto his back, batting at your face with his palm lazily, playfully. He giggles. He looks dreamy and dazed. But happy, actually. Really happy.

“Feeling alright?” You’re worried. You’re guilty, still. You’re praying nothing hurt him or made him sick.

“Mhm. Feel good!” Luffy’s beaming as if he already forgot everything that happened. He’s glowing, chest rising and falling heavily. But he tilts his head questioningly, “you?”

“Yeah. Just sore.” To which he rolls onto his elbows, kicking his legs in the air, he holds your body, he gives your hips a soft kiss. He’s appreciative, he’s so soft now, honey skin glowing in the sleepy sunshine.

But everything is wet. Your clothes on the bed next to you, the sheets, your bodies and hair. So with your arms around his shoulders, because it will be hard to walk for a while, the two of you throw on robes and step outside. You forgot the smell of fresh sea air after that mist of sex and sweat. Luffy’s heart beats against yours, calm and healthy, steady.

He sets you down and you take him in your arms, now, laying him against the mast. You take a towel to his hair, drying him, the sun on the wind sending the dewdrops you’re made of falling away from your shoulders in rainbows. You’re glittering, you and Luffy.

You should get you both some food soon, you should give yourselves a real bath, you should go and comfort Zoro and assure him that you’re both ok. But not yet. You don’t want that yet.

You avoid the eyes of the others as they pass below. You don’t want to talk about this with anyone but Luffy right now, the boy who looks like an angel resting below you, chiseled glistening body, sunlight divinity. He opens his mouth, he kisses your fingertips as you brush hair from his cheeks.

He wants to talk to you at first but he finds that his eyes are too heavy. He just yawns instead, and bares his teeth in a smile. And he holds your hand tightly with this deep, profound gratitude. You hear him whisper, beneath his breath, that he loves you.

#luffy x reader smut #one piece smut #luffy x reader #one piece #luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy smut #aphrodisiac luffy #luffy x f!reader

1K notes · View notes

suga-kookiemonster · 28 days

Text

ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral

a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up.

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #bts fic #mine #fic: ctrl alt del #bby

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nouearth · 2 months

Text

a day at the office.

jim halpert x male reader.

summary: what happens when jim finds out that there's a secret place in the warehouse that's used for sleeping? hint: it's not used for sleeping.

wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: coworkers, top!jim, bottom!reader, bigdick!jim, spit as lube, fingering, milking, over-stimulation, spitting, kissing, lots of french kissing, breeding, public sex, established relationship, au where pam is with someone else, jim has a bi-awakening, seasons 1-4 jim!

It was a call-back that he’d been expecting. It didn’t take much of an utter of the familiar client’s voice, the principal of Dunmore High School, to assure Jim that he had already secured another renewal of paper supplies for the school; an impressive three-year loyalty from the school, but who was counting?

Jim held the phone and watched you at your desk, two sections diagonal of him. He looked pleased when the client began voicing out compliments because of his efficient service, smiled because you were absolutely terrible at playing computer Chess despite lowering the difficulty settings, and beamed when you caught his gaze, warm like the mug of coffee sitting by the small picture frame of your dog on your desk.

It was impossible to know if you could hear what Jim was saying, but the grin on his face told more than a thousand words and you bid him a thumbs up when he looked up from his notepad after scribbling the client’s purchase.

“All right, and before I let you go, our customer service representative will follow up with a short survey regarding our products and services.” A question followed after. “Yep, similar survey as last time—you got it. All right, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Take care.”

Despite originally feeling aversion for his job, he couldn’t lie about feeling some sense of accomplishment whenever he secured a huge order. Not to mention how much of an ego booster it was since he earned a commission out of the sale. Gradually over time, Jim found himself to be one of the top salesman at the office, convincing himself that his stay at Dunder Mifflin would only be temporary.

Then the gratification completely ceased, weakly fluttering like a limp balloon, when he looked at the time on his taskbar.

It was only 10 AM.

This is going to be a long day. Jim groaned, slouching in his seat because the negotiation felt like forever, sucked out all of the energy left in him during the half-of-an-hour call despite fueling himself with caffeine and random fruits he’d stolen from his roommate. They were nearing that gross, wrinkly stage anyway.

When he turned his attention back towards you, the phone was in your hand, the other typing on the keyboard what Jim presumed would be the client’s answers to the survey questions. There was always a smile on your face, even if the client couldn’t see you. And then tone in your voice. It was inviting and personable, a voice that made people feel safe and heard, as if that mattered at all because how could buying paper feel anywhere near dangerous?

Or maybe it was simply because Jim was too high on his own infatuation for you, that he was mostly projecting his appreciation.

A couple of hours had passed, 1 PM, and Jim managed to make a few sales here and there. A couple of clients hadn’t finalized their choice of supplier yet, but Dunder Mifflin was certainly being alluded as the option once he offered free deliveries on the count that they ordered a certain number of shipments of paper. That always sealed the deal.

To be honest, other than enduring many of Michael’s annoying antics with Dwight being his right-hand man, most days in the office were exactly as mundane as today was turning out to be. Usually, he would find himself passing time by hanging around your desk, catching you up on the weirdest news he discovered through a deep-dive in the internet.

And you wouldn’t believe what’s about to happen next…

What..? Don’t tell me they found the fing— Yep, they found the finger in the chicken tenders. Cooked. Medium-rare. Crisp to the bone. Blistering. Oh god—that’s horrifying! Jim—

And usually, they were lies that he made up on the way to your desk, mainly because he loved drawing a reaction out of you. And you were also extremely gullible, which made it all the easier to do so.

But as far as today was concerned, you were knees-deep into your responsibilities. Phone calls concerning shipment delays siphoned you into brief turmoil because—of course there were going to be delays, we’re in the middle of February where the earth was working in mysterious ways to conjure up snow days!

As much as Jim wanted to cut the phone line off when a client had suddenly erupted into an audibly loud one-sided yelling match—he was winning, of course—it always impressive how calm and composed you were under those circumstances.

Though, while he acted the same way regarding his approach to customers, he preferred to give people time and space to calm down. Whereas you accessed the situation and carefully structured how you sounded to hopefully pacify their anger. Your voice was gentler, but it never faltered into a frailness that made you a pushover for the client to rag on. Rather, it was stern, especially authoritative when you would assert, “Sir, I understand this situation is very frustrating for you, but I am here to help. And I cannot help you if you do not tell me your order number. And it would also be very much appreciated if you lowered your voice.”

You were fairly new to the company, a little over two years in your position, and every day, as a little more of you unfolded, you’d shown Jim why you were hired on the spot. You were practically the face of what Dunder Mifflin desired, of what any company expected really; friendly, collaborative, hard-working, efficient, all those cliché keywords on a résumé.

A golden boy, Jim liked to describe you as. He didn’t mean anything negative by it, simply by evidence of your personality at first. But when he mentioned that moniker for you one day, of course you laughed like it was the funniest thing Jim had told you since you’d introduced yourself, because you were a people-pleaser. Easy to get along. Charming. Handsome. Bright. Golden.

That was you.

Honestly, Jim never expected to cross ‘fall in love’ off his New Year’s resolutions right before the year even started. He also never thought he’d strike out ‘discover your bi-awakening’ in any timeline of the universe—only because he didn’t even know he had a type in men—but the future worked in wondrous, confusing ways. Though, if someone actually asked for him to describe his type, it would be indescribable because Jim doesn’t know exactly what made him fall in love with you, except for the fact that it was you. Your presence. Your personality. Your looks. You.

Jim liked how you would say greet everyone ‘good morning,’ but it was him that you held in high-regard. He liked how you were shorter, like many others in the office were compared to him, but you had a build, or maybe a presence, that made him want to take you in his arms and never let go. He liked how you would end up snorting at his jokes because he never found his jokes incredibly funny. It was mainly a tactic, or rather an invitation for you to know that he wanted to be friends. With every laugh that spilled out of your mouth, fortuitous snorts that would embarrass you when Jim kept the joking going, a mutual bond was shortly formed and it felt even better than scoring a huge sale.

He liked how you were generous, tossing a bag of chips on his desk after a visit to the vending machine, and he’d suspected that you’d been watching him too, because you always got his favorite flavor without Jim ever telling you the minor details of his insignificant life.

He also liked how confusing it was to like you, to suddenly develop a crush on a man like he had just discovered a new aspect of life. There was something exciting and new happening in his mundane world, giving him a newfound motivation to come to work other than to pay his bills. He thought he discovered everything about himself by his early 20s, but you’d shown him that life truly does throw you off-course, or in Jim’s case, on the right side of the path.

He casted doubts about his sexuality early on, pondering that loneliness had caught up to him and constructed an entirely different narrative as a last ditch effort to set him on an expedition to find love again.

But would loneliness really be influential enough to compel him to suddenly kiss you in the parking lot after having dinner together? He recalled you gasping, pulling away, thankfully not because you were repulsed by him, but because you were in complete shock that Jim was even into men in the first place.

Jim never realized how much he brought up his ex-girlfriends to overcompensate for this sudden attraction for the opposite gender until you brought it up.

I don’t know yet, about all of this… I’m still figuring things out, but I really like you, (M/N).

Jim, I think you had too much to drink.

All I had was a Sprite—

He pondered that night, then many more until it began weighing on his conscience.

But he oddly found himself kissing you again a month after, properly this time, in his Subaru when he took you home after your car broke down. He felt like a volcano erupting when his lips landed on yours, soft and delicate like the first time he kissed you. His breath rattled into your own hesitation with every exhale, but then you took him in, let him in, and Jim melted.

And then calmed, stilled, when you led, cupping his jaw to keep Jim from pulling away, and instead closer, leaning over the armrests of each respective seat and center console. The leather pressed uncomfortably into his body, but when you slipped your tongue inside of his mouth, he was spellbound, then purged of any feeling other than the ones you’d enthralled him with.

As you assured him on that night, with a late night conversation that refused to let you out of his car and Jim out of your neighborhood street, that was when he found himself.

Huh.

What?

Nothing… Usually my gay-dar is pretty spot on, so if I knew you rocked that way, I would’ve flirted with you early on.

Okay, one; never mention gay-dar to Michael or Dwight ever, because then they’ll go ‘I told you so’ on me. And two; you had a crush on me? Tell me more.

You’d be surprised how much height can make a gay man go feral, Jim.

Seems like you managed yourself pretty well, don’t you think? That you know of.

You animal…

Another hour passed by as Jim willingly let himself be sucked into a black hole of thoughts recalling those moments with you, those ‘firsts’ that could keep him distracted for another two hours or so. Alongside his first kiss with you, there was the first time he touched you; clumsiness took his hands to roam around your chest, stomach, then erection until you blew from Jim’s increasing interest, and then profound knowledge in your body.

He kissed you elsewhere other than your lips. It started off with your neck, then your shoulders, chest, and so-on, until his lips suddenly began wrapping around your own length without warning, sucking you off with cloddish, yet enticing attempts that made you laugh, because Jim was greedy, awkward with his tongue, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him to yourself.

You pulled him off and made him lean back on the couch instead, settling on your knees and then rewarding his service with your own mouth, to show him how to properly work a cock. Jim was never a man that was enticed by blowjobs, only because a mouth never felt gratifying enough, but with every swirl of your tongue, every spit that dripped off of his thick cock and back into your mouth, he was fully convinced that he was a changed man by the time he filled your mouth.

He then intruded deep inside of you because to fully have an understanding of your body, he needed to explore every inch, every surface, every crevice. It was on his bed, in his messy room that Jim tried to hurriedly clean before you came in, that could barely accommodate room for two, but it was you who made it work when you straddled on his lap and rode him instead. You’d never felt so full, you said it yourself he was balls-deep inside of you.

And jesus christ, Jim knew he was big considering the women he’d dated were apprehensive about taking him, barely taking his cock before surrendering. It gave him deja vu with the way you held your eyes shut, bracing your position by having one palms on his chest, and the other guiding his cock carefully into you, controlling the stagger of your breath to the best of your ability.

In the moment where he’d expect you to stop pushing yourself and tell him to settle for a blowjob instead, determination set you aflame like the painful stretch Jim had been providing you with, and with three more pulses to your breath, a brief break to apply more lube on Jim’s erection and your hole, you were entirely breached when Jim aided your hips and pushed you down until you were flushed against his body, flesh sticky and sweaty from your persistence.

You’re amazing… Jim, I’m close. Harder—

It was a memorable night, a messy one where you offered to change his sheets, and Jim swore he could’ve gone all-night if they hadn’t had work the very next day. Instead, he held you close, panting and continuing to fill you despite your protest to shower, gazing into your eyes while you held his stare with a warmth that might have rivaled his own infactuation for you, and smiled.

I really like you.

I really, really like you too, Halpert.

And now Jim was here, fantasizing in his seat with an aching hard-on, but absolutely guilt-free this time, because it’d been a few months since you two made it official.

It took several pings from Jim’s computer to put his musing to a halt. He leaned forward to view the unread messages, tending to his erection with a few gentle squeezes, then peeked over his monitor with a grin when he realized it was from you.

[M/N]: lunch? [M/N]: hellooooo

[M/N]: if you don’t answer i’m ordering ahead without you [M/N]: wow you’re really out of it [M/N]: stare deep into space if you hate me [M/N]: wow, jim.

“Hey,” A gentle kick to your shoe knocked your attention up to Jim, where he greeted you with a warm smile as soon as your gaze fell on him, a coat draped over his arm. “What are you feeling today?” The weather wasn’t too cold, the coat mainly providing an obstruction to the evident outline in his khakis.

Glistening, you returned his smile tenfold in brightness, sprouting from your seat to stretch your arms over your head, loosening the tuck of your shirt crinkle by crinkle until you felt a pleasing crack to your back and shoulders. “Anything’s fine. Sushi? Wait, no—we had that last week.”

“You have…” Jim rolled a sleeve up to check the time on his watch, and your eyes immediately pivoted towards the veins in his forearm, endearing and taunting. “…the two minutes it takes to get to my car to decide.”

“Wait, but that’s not even enough—“ He turned his body so you were complaining towards his back, broad and firm through his blue dress shirt. You’d never felt so envious of a piece of clothing hugging tight on his body when that could’ve been you.

“Up and at ‘em, a minute and twenty seconds now.” Jim began walking towards the entrance, chuckling as he could hear you scramble through your desk in search for something. “Gotta find my wallet first—“

“Seriously? It’s already been thirty seconds now!”

Turned out, all that rushing was for nothing as Jim had other plans when he pulled you past the exit to the parking lot, and instead another floor lower, and then another, until you and him reached the warehouse. He acted on impulse, his sudden thirst for you taking the reign of his actions that he didn’t exactly know what to do had the warehouse not been empty. Luckily, it was and Jim would keep that in mind for the future.

“Uh… Jim, why are we down here?” The warehouse was bigger than you last remembered from the brief introductory tour you were given. Though, to be fair, you were running on a half-mug of coffee, and the adrenaline rush of meeting everyone for the first time hadn’t worn off yet.

“You’ll see,” Jim shrugged, nonchalant in his demeanor as his gaze was seemingly in pursuit of something above him along the rows of storage shelves and units. “Don’t want to ruin the surprise for you.” The words rolled off of his tongue suspiciously, and beneath the growing smile on Jim’s face that was supposed to keep you calm and composed like it did on normal circumstances, was something that did the opposite, riling a wave of conflicting feelings within you.

Especially when Jim began to climb a ladder and step into a shelf space in the back of the warehouse that was hidden impressively well from the entrance.

“What—What are you doing?! Get down here!” Your eyes widened in panic, scanning the space from left to right multiple times in case any of the warehouse employees were within vicinity. “Jim!”

“It’s fine, come on up!” He waved you up once he got himself situated, head awkwardly bent and shoulders slant because of the shelf barely accommodated for his height and build.

“No way. We’re going to get fired if we get caught.” You frowned, crossing your arms as you stared up at him, baffled.

“You know, it would help your case if you weren’t standing where everyone could see you.” Jim reasoned and you huffed after. “I promise, we won’t get caught. I’ll keep an eye out. And if it helps, Darryl told me about this area. Toasty in here too.”

Apprehensively, you took ahold of the ladder railings and climbed your way to the shelf space where Jim awaited for your arrival, anticipated with a smug smile as he held out his hand to pull you in once you took his palm.

The shelf was in the darkest corner of the room. A few lights above had been burnt out for quite some time, and the large boxes of paper supplies that surrounded the perimeter casted shadows that ultimately provided an agreeable space despite your original complaints. In this case, as you cataloged the pillows and one throw blanket around you and Jim; a comfy place to rest your eyes.

“You took me here… to nap.” You stated matter-of-factly and stared at him disengaged, but nonetheless foraged a pillow behind your head and snuggled up to his left side when he opened his arm up.

“The things I do for you. Absolutely no appreciation whatsoever.” Jim joked, then pinched your nose with a chuckle. The gesture always managed to pull a smile out of you, and he already anticipated you mirroring it back at him, to which he keenly blocked with a strong hold of your wrist. Then another when you attempted sneak attack with a neck-chop with your other arm.

“You know…” Your voice wandered to a deepness, a slight hush as if anyone around you could hear. “You could’ve just told me you were horny.” You tugged your hands in resistance.

“What—How did you know?” Jim broke out into a toothy smile despite being caught red-handed.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly hiding your boner that well. A hand isn’t going to cover that.” You nodded your head towards the size of his bulge, the center of Jim’s khakis creasing when his erection greeted you with a throb. The boxes of paper supplies couldn’t shelter Jim had they tried.

“Hey, are you shaming me for having a big penis? Wow, (M/N). I thought you were different.” He loosened his hold on your wrists, but nonetheless kept them within his grasp to guide your right hand to his inner thigh, dropping the other after. He leaned in, his gaze pivoting to your wet lips when you licked your lips. The scent of his cologne, along with the way Jim’s eyes glazed over you like a piece of meat, stirred something inside of you. Your pants felt tighter than a couple seconds ago.

“If blowing you until you finish in my mouth is shaming, then…” Jim’s hand pressed on top of yours to move you upwards to his bulge, but you resisted, a teasing grin beamed towards the smug smile on his face before you enchanted his lips with a soft, languid kiss. “Call me a monster.”

Jim abandoned your hand to take ahold of your jaw, cupping the underside of it softly while his thumb caressed the structure with composed strokes. Your breath tasted like coffee, sweeter than how Jim preferred his own cup, but perfectly delectable when it came from your tongue.

“You stole my line.” He joked again, then kissed you harder; a stroke of his tongue parted your lips again in desperate need to take you, in a sloppy pursuit of some kind of reward for his terrific work this month. His tongue explored your mouth, panting among both parties, your own wet flesh gliding and slipping against and around his needy endeavors, prompted by the gentle squeezes and strokes on his erection, and it didn’t take very long before you were completely captivated by Jim and the way he took you, your body going limp except for the growing tent in your pants.

You palmed him through his khakis. Your hand barely moved up his thigh before you could feel a long and thick lump residing beneath the crinkle of his left pocket, and a moan slipped from your throat because you could never stop marveling over the size of Jim’s cock. “We only have twenty minutes.” It was a complaint rather than a reminder. The clock ticking in your head peeled you away from the captivating kiss, frowning because there was so much you wanted to do to Jim, for him.

“Better get to work then.” You felt his hands suddenly begin to work at your belt, unbuckling them with deft and efficiency. Impatience left the leather hang loose, flopping stiffly as Jim unzipped your pants, and then pushed them down to your ankles after turning you on your side, your back facing him.

Jim snapped your briefs below the smooth curve of your ass, plumping them with the help of the tight restraining digging into your skin and pushing your mounds of flesh upwards. It was a delicious invitation for him to spank your right ass cheek once to watch how his slap reverberated off your flesh in soft jiggles, then another because your hushed whimpers were the perfect accompaniment to the force of his palm.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about your ass today.” He confessed while the strong kneads to your ass, palms of thick flesh groped and spread, provided proof to his confession.

“Yeah? Is that why you couldn’t keep it in your pants today?” You groaned when something wet and lean slid nimbly inside of your hole without warning. Tight and warm, you squeezed around Jim’s lone finger as it thrusted inside of you. Whimpered when it curled, another finger joining after a couple of flicks of his wrist, with the intent to wreck vengeance on the source of his erection.

“You know it,” His voice ghosted over your ear, closer than you expected, and your head knowingly turned to meet his lips for a yearning, sloppy kiss that Jim mutually had been craving all day for. He pushed himself closer to you, your mouth and his parting open and lingering as tongues mingled for an open-mouthed kiss. It was wet and sickly, enough to get you high on the act alone, cock throbbing when Jim closed his mouth around your tongue and sucked the spit bubbles off your tongue. All of that simultaneously stirring butterflies in your stomach while he worked your hole open, presently stretching you out with three fingers barreled into your cavity.

Usually three fingers was enough to take Jim’s cock. It was uncomfortable, at times painful when you barely stretched yourself. But you liked that you could feel every inch of Jim’s muscly cock pushing you open. You likened it to rolling out a tight muscle after a tough workout. Painful, but incredibly satisfying once you felt him turning you out. Plus, it never failed to make Jim incredibly gratified, his cock somehow growing harder, thicker while he was shelved inside of you.

It wasn’t the most ideal position; you were facing boxes of copy paper that instantly evoked shame, the Dunder Mifflin logo plastered across the cardboard seemingly mortified by the lack of restraining when it came to your boyfriend. It wasn’t often that you two involved yourself in public sex, but when Jim was either too impatient to wait at his apartment, or you needed something to recharge you in the middle of the day, those circumstances mainly resided in his car. You bought extra blankets to cover up the windows too, though ultimately, they served no purpose because you were here—ass out, jerking yourself off to the hastened sound of Jim’s belt unbuckling, khakis and boxers shoved down to his ankles similar to yours in turn.

“Shoot,” Jim grunted irritably. You turned your head over your shoulder, curiously finding the source of his evident annoyance along with him as Jim began searching through his coat pockets, only after taking a long peek at the glorious throb of his cock.

“What? Having regrets already?” You grinned, and you discerned a vacant smile of his own, Jim’s mind occupied by a multitude of thoughts.

“I forgot the lube. I thought I put it in my pocket, guess not…” A sigh of disappointment came after Jim’s habit of clicking his tongue whenever he felt any kind of feeling. “Well, I guess we could try—“

You suddenly took Jim’s hand and spat in it, Jim watching wide-eyed, stunned, while you pushed a few more out with your tongue since saliva never had the ideal longevity and viscosity of lube. “Hurry before it dries.” You turned back calmly, beckoning for his cock with a push of your ass.

“I’m in love with you.” Jim breathed out, a toothy smile you could imagine from the giddy tone of his voice. The spit in his hand was then used to lube his thick cock, in a thick sheen you presumed from the sticky sounds that tingled the tips of your ears, then the base of your tightened balls.

“Prove it to me.” You folded the arm you were lain on behind your head, cushioning the weight of it while your other hand reached back to lather his cock in your saliva after spitting a few more times into your palm. You felt veins pulsing strong with every stroke, a weight of thick cock that made your wrist sore, and then as you pivoted towards the pink glans of Jim’s dick, a bulbous head that intimidatingly maintained the girth of his shaft.

“You’re going to regret it.” He said smugly, adjusting himself closer and lower to match your smaller build. His moans were bitten back, swallowed down with hard gulps while you were carried away in providing him a temporary relief that you were too impatient to ignore.

Your hand continued stroking him off, your saliva sticking on his cock and then eventually in between your ass as you guided him towards your entrance, immense warmth emanating from the blood surging through his cock veins. “Have I ever?”

“No,” Jim replaced your hand, making it return back to fondling your balls, and teased by running his cock over the crack of your ass. You felt his cock bolt with a spring, taunting when the plump head pressed its slick pre-cum to your pucker. He loved how he could see your ass clench in desperate efforts to lure him in, but it was futile as he’d return to sweeping over your hole with languid swipes, drawing out whimpers that signified that your impatience was running thin.

“And I love you even more for that.”

He suddenly pushed. Your breath got caught in your throat from the abruptness of it all, and your body immediately tensed in turn, frozen in place when a burning sensation from beneath alerted you to stay put and just breathe. Jim groaned, already feeling the swell of your pucker refusing to let the head in, so he pulled himself out and restarted. Harder, he pushed his cock inside of you again, persistent despite your body naturally arcing forward to escape the emerging pain, but his hand on your hip pulled you back, anchoring your withering body, until the thick inch of his cock slid in.

“Careful—F-fuck, Jim.” Your stomach was in knots as it always was when he would first push inside of you. Feelings, conflicting ones of need, want, and regret battling for the throne of your body, of your mind, as Jim kept pushing, sliding in and out, rough and impatient because he needed you to open yourself up for him.

He was so big, too big at times, and you felt so pathetic because you thought you’d get used to him by now; used to the way you felt so full even when only his head had penetrated you; used to how your hole stung as more of Jim sheathed inside of you, slowly with a couple of thrusts aiding its insertion.

“I know, I know…” He breathed with a rattle, the tightness in your cavity gripping pleasurably around him as he thrusted with only the first few inches in, absolutely riveting that he couldn’t help but let his desires dominant his methodical approach in letting you adjust to his large size and instead, making you to take it all at once with one long and deep push.

“J-Jim!” A scream abruptly left your throat and before you could let another slip out, his hand suddenly came up to cover your mouth, pressing his palm hard to your face and squeezing your cheeks. Your eyes shut, and your body writhed from how Jim’s cock roughly worked you opened. You felt uncomfortably full, beyond stretched to your limits as Jim was balls-deep inside of you now, but most importantly, you felt so wanted.

Bounded by the strong hold around you; his hand squeezing your cheeks in his palm to muffle your moans; his cock penetrating you deep and hard with fast and needy rhythms; his lips soft against your neck before they surprised with a painful suck to your jawbone; you were enraptured by Jim’s dominance over you, leaking from the tip of your cock in heavy drips while he fucked you from behind, the metal of his belt clacking with every precision of his thrusts.

“You’re so tight. Fuck. No one can take my dick like you.” Jim panted, embellishing your neck in hot breaths before climbing to kiss you on the lips again once you were prompted to turn your head.

It was the small sounds from you that drove Jim nuts. They spilled into his mouth without restraint, an open-mouthed kiss again as he licked into you, suckled on your tongue, and let drool join your own slick mess at your chin. Tiny whimpers and occasional gasps when he hit your prostate fed his thirst for you, knowing that only he could drive you this mad; fumbling over your begs and surrendering because his cock was too good for you to think properly and find your words again.

“Harder. Harder.” You gulped, your demands muffled as Jim had his thumb in your mouth now. After, you went back to sucking his thick thumb off, tongue laving him in circular motions, as best as one could as Jim sped his pace and fucked you into oblivion. “Harder.” You gritted your teeth, hustling through the burn as the saliva had dried off his dick by now. You were beating your cock, pumping it with an ample amount of strength that rivaled Jim’s hips against you, motivated by the ticking countdown of your lunch break coming to an end soon.

It still stung. You barely had time to adjust to him before you were completely taking Jim’s cock as if you were a cheap flashlight he bought online, a piece of silicon that he’d break. Your hair bounced, sweat-dripping down your forehead while you felt his own sweat dripping of his forehead and staining your dress shirt. The back of your shirt felt damp, heat building up at your back-side as Jim had enclosed around you with an embrace that thawed any ounce of pain and replaced it with intoxicating pleasure. An onslaught of thrusts kept you writhing by your toes, then curling into the blanket that had bundled beneath your feet.

Harder. Your demands were immediately met after Jim pulled himself out completely, as if he was recharging his strength, lubed his erection with a spit to the palm, then shoved himself back into you with one strong thrust, sending your body into an arc that he’d immediately restrained back with a push to your abdomen, forcing you to take his cock in full stride. Your ass rippled like the rattle in your moans, flesh clapping loud whenever Jim met his groin to your skin, and you couldn’t get enough of it, the sounds glorious in your ear. Your hole clenched in vain as Jim always managed to power through and forced you open again, hollowing you out until your pucker shaped itself to the exact size of his thick cock.

He would marvel at the gape when he pulled himself out again, for his own sake as he was nearing his climax, and spread your cheeks open. “Just for me?”

“Just for you.” You used the small break to catch up on your breath, wetting your parched throat with multiple gulps as you turned over your shoulder to catch him staring, finding it futile as your throat felt brittle again.

He clicked his tongue multiple times, that habit again whenever he felt something, when the rim of your hole tensed up at the multiple spanks he’d given you, seemingly swallowing at nothing but air, until he breached himself back in, angling his hips perfectly to press at your prostate.

It was nearing—your climax. You rarely touched your cock, abandoning it because your arms tend to be locked behind Jim’s warm embrace around you, but it sprouted strong in between your legs, aided by the repeated violation against your prostate. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head multiple times, Jim’s large cock knocking the breath out of you with every snap of his hips, pounding into the swelling of your insides.

“Oh god, Jim—“

That spot again, he never missed once in hitting your prostate, a storm of delight torpedoing the pit of your stomach as Jim impaled into you like lightning. Jim muttered something under his breath, striking on your skin as he bit into your neck, then pressed hard against your hip bone.

“I’m gonna—“ Jim gripped at your hips harder, a slur of words near your ear making goosebumps raise all over your body, beneath the layer of sweat that had dampened your clothes.

“Too, me too—“ You huffed, closing your eyes, but deftly finding Jim’s lips when you turned your head to kiss him one more time. An immediate tangle of tongues was enforced, your mouths mutually opening on impulse while he held your head comfortably to keep you from straining your neck. You moaned, reeled your tongue back from the slippery closure of his mouth, and cried out as your pucker clamped down on his large cock moving inside of you. Your hole throbbed around his girth with exquisite spurts that came from within, pulsated with the veins that had adorned Jim’s cock delectably, grasped him like a tight sleeve that refused to let him go.

When you opened your eyes, you were blinded by the lights that had donned over you instead of casted shadows, a heavenly choir celebrating with holy bells when your balls tightened once before loosening when your cock erupted thick cumshots onto the boxes in front of you, painting the cardboard in thick layers of yourself, of your desires, with the help of Jim’s cock, pounding strong ropes of cum out of you until they’ve hit every box like target practice.

“Fuck.” Jim let out a deep groan, pushing painfully into you, his hand reaching over to milk your cock until you were only spewing out the tiniest bits of cum left in your emptying sack. Your whimpering and the convulsion of your body, as he continued to milk your cock, triggered Jim to finally break within a couple more thrusts and a deep grunt, his cock exploding hot and thick in the confines of your ass, flooding your tender hole with his thick cum loads.

“Jim.” You whined, drawing out his name. His cum was dripping out of you, a few thick droplets rolling to the side of your ass as Jim’s thrusts were beginning to shallow, but never once pausing. “Fuck—“

“You feel so good like this.” Jim was creaming your insides, using your ass to ride out his orgasm and milk his hard cock inside of you, even when he was beginning to feel sore at the base of his balls. You whimpered quietly, knowing it was such a waste of cum dripping out of you like that, but also because you felt your cock hardening again despite just now recovering from Jim’s devious hold on you.

“We’re going to be late if you keep this up.” You should’ve known better. Any time you offered him a reason not to do something, Jim was motivated to do the opposite.

His thrusts remained the same, shallow yet deep against you, and right when you thought you felt soaked in your ass, Jim pressed another low grunt to your lips, snapping once into you and rattling another moan out of you, before the convulsions bound his body to your backside once again, and let him spill another load inside of your creamy hole.

Jim shuddered, feeling drained and especially aching as his cock went limp and slipped out of you, the only connection between you and him being the sticky cum that had webbed his cock and your ass together as you involuntarily pushed his cum out of your tender hole in a daze.

“Think you can work the rest of the day like this?” The pleasure subsided into exhaustion, a wave of drowsiness hitting you and Jim like a truck despite the uncomfortable pool of cum sitting beneath you two. Jim kissed your shoulder, then pulled your briefs back up, your pants following after.

“No way.” You laughed, lightly punching at his shoulder after buckling your belt because now all you wanted to do was use what the shelf was actually purposed for: sleeping. “You owe me a hot bath later.”

“Tch, the things I do for you. You're ungateful.”

"You love me for it."

"I do."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#✰ : nou.fics #jim halpert x reader #jim halpert x male reader #jim halpert x y/n #jim halpert x you #jim halpert x m!reader #x you #x reader #male reader #x male reader #male reader smut #✰ : nou.tv #✰ : nou.theoffice #jim halpert fic #jim halpert fanfic

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ladyqueendrag · 6 months

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“How About You Use Your Body To Pay?”

Part I

Squid Game The Salesman x OF f reader

This is an expansion to the Drabble I wrote

Pairing: The Salesman x OF Reader

Rating:NC-17 but this chapter doesn’t have the sexy part yet 😩 bare with me, you sexy assholes, you!

Warning: smut, stalking, blackmail, dubcon, The Salesman being a sexy creep, reader is an OF girl so ya know, dirty talk, oral, a slap, just dirty, you guys, it’s just filth.

Summary: The Salesman was told to pick the next player… And he messed up badly.

You play the game and win. That’s all they have to do. Play. And just maybe win.

“Good luck.” Said the Salesman to himself in a smug way as his eyes skimmed the streets of Seoul. He was looking for a particular face in the crowd. Your face. He was given a list of names of those down on their luck. And it was finally your turn to play on his list.

He sat down on an empty bench and opened his briefcase, looking at the picture of the girl he was searching for. Your face. He wasn’t going to admit it; quite frankly he wasn’t allowed to admit it, but the second he saw your picture, he felt a little flutter as his eyebrow cocked to the side and a quick tightness in his slacks.

He knew your face, your place of employment, and where you liked to hang out. That was more than enough for him. And if the worse was to happen, he had your home address as well.

He put your picture away in his briefcase and made his way to the foreign bookstore he knew you worked at. The small chime on the door dinged and he heard a soft voice. “Welcome.” A soft women’s voice said in a heavy American accent.

Bingo. He found you.

You never took your eyes off the task at hand, even when greeting customers. You were too miserable to be courteous. You were a struggling woman in the heart of Seoul trying to get by; you moved to South Korea with the prospects of being close to your friends and getting a good job where you didn’t struggle paycheck to paycheck. And then all of that went to shit. After borrowing all the money you could from friends and family back in the states, you picked up a job at a small book store. But that’s wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough to make ends meet.

What is a girl to do who’s shit out of luck and can’t catch a break? You did what you would hope no one ever would find out; you became a camgirl and did sex videos to make money.

You became numb to your schedule. Bookstore for the majority of the day, then rush home and turn on that camera and get naked. Quite frankly in the beginning you didn’t mind it too much. Other than the occasional paranoia of someone you care about finding out what you do, your sex drive made the humiliation tolerable.

You were throwing your usual pity party as you got on your knees and started to sort out books by alphabetical order, not realizing the pair of eyes that were watching you closely. You self-consciously tugged at your mini skirt and pulled up your tight blouse, knowing better you should have packed an additional set of clothes and not worn your “other job’s uniform” to work. But you didn’t have the time today. You never wore such an outfit to the bookshop but you were strapped for time and your work slacks were in the wash.

“Pardon me-“

“AHH!” You screamed and dropped the books as you turned around on your knees, glasses almost falling off your face.

The man in front of you in a suit and tie gave an amused look, smirk plastered on his handsome face as he took a step back.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said as he squatted down to retrieve a book that made its way in front of him. Your cheeks flushed and you adjusted your glasses as you took in the gorgeous stranger in front of you.

“Oh, it’s quite alright, I startle easily, I think.” You said, trying to push past the embarrassment as he handed you the book in his hand.

“Well, try not to. It’s not like you’re alone here.” The man said as he smirked, knowing full well she was in fact alone today in her day shift.

“Oh, well I actually am today.” You said as you placed one book on top of the other, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire.

“What? You are?” The man bullshitted in false pretense and even let out a small tsk. “Well, I do apologize for startling you, ma’am.” He gave a smile and held out his hand to you. It was only then that you realized you were looking for support to stand up from the ground. Could this get anymore embarrassing?

You took the stranger’s soft hand and stood to your feet, smiling back until you heard a small pop.

More embarrassing? Well, it just became absolutely, painfully humiliating.

His eyes went wide as he narrowed down to your chest. A button had popped off your top, revealing the top of your breast and the lacy red bra underneath. You slowly looked down at yourself and then brought your gaze up to the man’s surprised face.

“Well, now that I have made a complete and total fool of myself, twice, I’m gonna go back and do my inventory before my skirt falls off or I throw up.” You gave the gentleman a bow and turned around, wanting to drop dead at that very moment.

“Oh, miss, I don’t scare easily. At all.” You turned around, holding the books to your chest like some school girl talking to her crush.

“Actually… I was wondering if I could talk to you for just a second.” He said while slipping a hand into his pocket and placing his briefcase on the floor.

Your eyes went from the briefcase to his face a few times. “Sorry, we’re not soliciting anything at the moment, sir.” You said, pushing the glasses once more up your nose.

He grinned again and you felt your pussy spasm. What the fuck, bitch? Why are you so quickly smitten by any handsome man that shows you interest? But there was something about this man… This Salesman?

“You know, I get that a lot… But I would love to steal a moment of your time.” You bit your lip at his words, your high heels tapping against the tile floor loudly.

And the Salesman couldn’t help but to take in your figure, feeling like a fucking perv at that moment.

“I… I’m-I’m so sorry, I really need to get back to what I’m doing but if you have any questions about any book…” you started to turn around, starting to feel a bit nervous but his voice made you stop on your track.

“There’s no one here… Y/N.”

Your eyes went wide and you were struck with fear. You did not own a name tag for anyone to know your name. What. The. Fuck?

You slowly turned on your heel, removing your glasses and you felt your heart pounding in your ears.

“… Who are you?” You said in a shaky voice. And of course, that caused the man to grin wickedly.

………

“You want me to do WHAT, now?!”

You both were sitting on a desk behind the bookstore, your feet tapping once more as you listened to this man’s ridiculous words.

“I’m asking for you to play a game with me.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out two envelopes, a red one and a blue one. Why the hell was this man smiling so damn much knowing he was scaring the fuck out of you? And why did he have to be so fucking handsome?

“For money?” You asked, earning a nod from him.

“Against you?” And that earned another nod from The Salesman.

Your eyes went from the envelopes to his eyes, your breath caught in your throat. “What’s the worse that can happen, Y/N?” He asked, cocking a brow as he tilted his head slightly.

You swallowed hard, silence filling the store for a moment.

‘It would be so easy, Y/N. And you can give up your second job.’ You thought deeply for a second. A shaky hand reached up to his, slowly inching up to the red envelope when you stopped yourself.

“… No. No, thank you.” You said and stood up, fearing the worst about this game and where it would lead.

That took The Salesman by surprise and he gave you a confused look.

“Aren’t you sick of working in a bookshop, living paycheck to paycheck with no end in sight?”

So he didn’t know? About your second income? What a fucking relief!

“Actually, sir, I don’t live paycheck to paycheck. Not anymore. Thank you for your offer, but I’m gonna have to respectfully decline. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

‘Second income? She doesn’t have a second income.’ He thought to himself as he placed the envelopes back in his chest pocket.

“There’s no need to lie, Y/N. I know this is your only source of money and you need it badly.”

There was a switch in your brain the second you looked up at the old grandfather clock. It was time to clock out and go to your second job. It was as if another personality took over your body and you slowly turned to face him, a sensuous look on your face as you started to approach the Salesman.

Now it was his turn to swallow hard as he gave you a quizzical look. You strutted to him, hands at your hips until you were inches from him, and then you trapped him against the desk, hands slamming down on each side of the desk.

“If only you knew.” Your voice changed, your nose just a hair away from his and his eyes went wide.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He asked as he pulled back away from you.

“I make more than you probably do, sir. Way more… And you don’t wanna know. Trust. Me.” Your nails dragged against the desk and you pulled away from him, leaving the Salesman with confusion and a hard-on he wasn’t expecting.

“Now, lock up!” You threw the store keys at him, his hands barely catching them as you stood tall with dripping sexuality. “I trust you to have a goodnight, dear sir.” You grabbed your Louis Vuitton from beside the desk and strutted away, slamming the front door. And he was so damn confused. A second form of income was not at all in your file.

“Well… That’s a new one.” The Salesman thought to himself, eyes moving rapidly in confusion.

‘She’s lying. And I’m gonna make her play the game. One way or another.’

#squid game #the salesman #the salesman squid game #the salesman x reader #squid game smut #drabble #gong yoo #gong yoo imagine #the salesman smut #f!reader

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whorror-barbie · 2 years

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Salesman x Fem! reader masterlist

Note: I only write for fictional characters and not the actors themselves, so please keep that in mind. All of these fics are 18+.

Smut = 🙈

Slow burn = 🔥

One wrong move 🙈

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Shady deals and cheap thrills 🙈

Part 1

Part 2

Horrible boss 🔥

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

service🙈

Part 1

Corruption 🙈

A night of fun

Part 1

Like a slut thief in the night 🙈

Han Yun-Jae x Fem! reader masterlist

Disgusted 🙈

Sexercising

Part 1

Part 2

Spice it up a bit 🙈

Part 1

Yeah, that's it for now, I'll be updating it when I can ☺️

#salesman imagine #salesman x y/n #salesman x reader #gong yoo #squid game smut #squid game fanfic #the Salesman #the salesman x reader #silent sea fanfic #Han Yun-Jae #Han Yun-Jae x reader

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wyvernne · 2 years

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for this one i’m actually letting you kids decide. diluc solo fic or the full version of the a/b/o drabble?

#it’s smut ofc #which one u kids want first #the solo fic has to do with a strange whopperflower’s pollen and a raunchy gift from a salesman from fontaine #and innapropriate usage of slime #choose now 🔫🤨

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julesthequirky · 5 months

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The Choice

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Reader x Dean, Reader x Beau Arlen, Reader x Soldier Boy, OC mother, antique salesman

Warnings: (Warnings will be updated when chapters are released) Language, typical SB behaviour, smut, asshole mom.

W/C: 19,348 (so far)

A/N: All spicy chapters will be symbolised with a chilli pepper.

The Choice now has a Spotify playlist, which will be linked here.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven 🌶

Chapter Twelve

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cupid-styles · 4 months

Text

december with you

the tattoorry christmas one shot is finally here :D I know you guys really loved their original story so I hope people like this little look into their life together during the holiday season!!!!

read only angel (the original series) here

word count: 4.2k

content warnings: mentions of y/n's terrible parents, smut (dirty talk, a bit of degradation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of impact play, grinding, daddy kink)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

December 5, 2023

"Have you ever had a real Christmas tree?"

Y/N and Harry are currently both bundled up in layers of sweaters, scarves, and puffy jackets, but their fingers are still messily intertwined and hidden in Harry's coat pocket. They're walking back to his place from the shop after a long day of work and school, and Y/N can't help but gaze longingly at the Christmas tree salesman across the way. There's an array of forest green trees and wreaths, the comforting balsam and pine scent creating a fragrant wintertime cloud around them.

Harry's so focused on braving the cold with his girl that it takes him a moment to register that she's said anything at all. He thinks for a moment — he hasn't gotten a Christmas tree for the past few years of living alone, but the employees usually stick a small one in the shop for a hint of holiday spirit.

"Yeah, we always got them growing up. My mom had a thing about 'em, always said they were better than fake ones."

She hums as they pass the display, Harry gently dragging her along down the block — his apartment is so close he can taste the warmth. They've only been properly dating for a few months now, so he's still learning about her communication tells and body language, and it's only then that he realizes that's her way of saying, I never had one before.

"Did your parents put up a Christmas tree?" he asks. He knows it's a sore subject, that she's still very much in the process of healing from years of trauma, but she tends to be comfortable with questions that aren't directly related to them. Things like, what was your favorite Halloween costume growing up? and what did you want to be when you were little?

"They did, but it was always one of those fake white ones." Y/N replies with a wrinkled nose. Finally, they're approaching the front of Harry's building, his keys already in his hand and prepared to unlock the front door. They make quick work of shimmying into the lobby, immediately breathing out mutual sighs of relief from the instant temperature increase.

"Those barely count as Christmas trees," Harry murmurs, pressing the elevator button. She nods, agreeing and following him inside. She buries her mitten-clad hands into the pockets of her jacket as she watches him press the floor 4 button. "Maybe you and Luce can get a real one?"

"She's Jewish. I think I'd feel bad about putting a tree up."

Harry nods his head, unsurprised by his girl's ever-polite nature in never wanting to make anyone else uncomfortable. Realistically, her roommate probably wouldn't care if she wanted to get a real Christmas tree, especially knowing her history with her parents.

The conversation ceases as he unlocks the door to his apartment. As soon as they step inside, they perform the routine they've been following for the past few weeks — shedding of jackets, scarves, and gloves, toeing off shoes in the entryway, and Y/N shuffling in the direction of Harry's bedroom to change into comfortable clothes while he proposes dinner options.

She's currently changing into her favorite pair of his sweatpants and an equally worn and cozy sweatshirt (Harry specifically did laundry the night before, knowing she'd want them) as he calls out takeout suggestions.

"Italian?"

"Mm, Lucy and I made pizza last night, so pass!"

"Sushi?"

"Last time you didn't like it, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbles, mainly to himself, "Chinese, then? I'm in the mood for something noodle-y."

"Chinese is good," Y/N says as she walks out to meet him in the living room. He grins when he sees her, the image of her in his clothes never quite getting old. Even though it's something he witnesses multiple times a week, he can never help his length from thickening up in his briefs. "Can you get me the veggie lo mein? And maybe we can split some dumplings if you want?"

"'course, dovie."

He unlocks his phone and pulls up the food ordering app while Y/N occupies herself with cozying up on the couch, bundling underneath the fuzzy pink throw blanket. She watches him as he looks down at the screen in his hand, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus. He looks so cute, Y/N thinks — sometimes it's silly to her that someone like him could like her, but he never makes her doubt his adoration.

"Alright, all ordered," Harry announces with a smile. He leans over the couch to press a kiss to her hair. "I'm gonna go change, you wanna pick something to watch?"

She hums noncommittally, her eyes fluttering to his as she looks up to see him standing over her. She reaches out to clasp a hand around his wrist — for what, they're both unsure of in the moment, and it seems like she's just as surprised as he is. He quirks a brow in silent questioning and her lips part, the pink tip of her tongue running over the ridges of her two front teeth.

"About the tree," she forces out, a look of distress so severe you'd think she was asking to marry him. "Did you... like it?"

"...did I like the tree?"

"Yeah," she nods, shifting onto her knees so she can lean her chest against the back of the couch and face him. "The tree your mom would get. Did you like it?"

"Sure. It was nice," Harry replies with a shrug. He reaches out to thumb over her plushy bottom lip, giving it a small squeeze. "What are you getting at, dove?"

Harry tries to practice this with her frequently. He's learned that she tends to be afraid of asking for what she wants, even if it's something small like stopping at the grocery store on their walk home. He knows it's from years of trauma from her parents, but he also knows that she's beyond capable of voicing her wants and needs. He's not sure if she's aware that he does this with her — some days are better than others and he always promises himself to take it easy with her.

"I was just wondering if maybe we could go see them. The trees."

He smiles gently. "Yeah, we could do that. Do you just wanna look at them?"

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, a bashful blush blooming over her skin.

"We could get one if you want," he murmurs as he ducks down to catch her eyes. "We could put it up here."

"Really?"

His heart squeezes at the instant twinkle in her eyes, a hopeful expression painted over her features. He grins and nods.

"Of course. We can go tomorrow."

"Okay," she agrees with a smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. He gasps in fake shock and she giggles.

"Careful dovie, I might just think you like me."

. . .

December 14, 2023

Y/N hates the cold.

Today, it's bitterly cold, the tips of her ears red from the harsh winter wind nipping at them all afternoon. Her hands are stuffed in mittens, she's wearing multiple thermal layers beneath her North Face puffer jacket (an early Christmas gift from Harry, who claimed her current coat wasn't cutting it), and her toes have officially surpassed an acrid sting and live in the completely and utterly numb category.

But she supposes it's worth it all to walk arm-in-arm with Harry as they explore his favorite holiday market.

He's been blabbing her ear off about it since it started in the last week of November, explaining that he discovered it his first year living in the city, just a few months after opening the shop. He said that business was slow and he couldn't afford to visit his family in London for the holidays, so he was feeling particularly down, but this market actually awoke a bit of festive spirit in him. Ever since then, he comes back every year, gets a hot chocolate, and walks through the rows of vendors, even if he doesn't buy anything — and he was beyond excited to experience it with Y/N this year.

It just so happened that they hadn't taken the weather into account. Harry asked Y/N about a million separate times, making sure she was still okay with going (and while she much would have rather stay home, snuggled up with her boyfriend with a Christmas movie on, she couldn't bare ruining his plans, especially given all that he did for her).

And the thing is, Harry can tell that she's borderline-miserable in the cold. But every time he asks if she wants to go home, her chapped lips form into a small smile, shaking her head, insisting that she wants to keep going.

Finally, Harry spots the hot chocolate vendor at the end of sidewalk; a much-welcomed excuse to hopefully warm his girl up.

"This place has the best hot chocolate," he says as his pace quickens slightly. If Y/N's arm wasn't looped around his, she's sure she wouldn't be able to keep up with his long stride.

"Oh, yummy," she mumbles, digging into her pocket to pull out her wallet, "Do y'wanna share one or each get one?"

"Put that away." he instantly replies with a scoff. In a second, he's produced his own wallet, quickly ordering one hot chocolate each.

"Harry," Y/N whines quietly, "You always pay for things, why couldn't you let me get this?"

"'cos I wanted to."

"That's what you always say!"

He chuckles as he graciously accepts the hot chocolates from the salesman, then hands one to Y/N without a second glance. She huffs to herself as she pulls her hands from her pockets to clutch the warm cup. It already smells heavenly, her eyes nearly fluttering shut from the coziness oozing from the warm steam.

"Seriously, will you let me get us dinner or something tonight?" Y/N asks as Harry guides them towards a bench. She's not really in the mood to perch her bum on a freezing cold slab of wood, but if today's anything to go by, she'd do anything for Harry.

"No," he replies with a cheeky grin. "I like spoiling you."

"But I don't want you to spend so much—"

"It's not about the money, Y/N," he says, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. "You deserve the very best and I will give you that. Okay?"

Truthfully, she can't tell if she's more surprised or turned on by Harry's sudden harsh tone, but nonetheless, she nods her head.

"Good. Now drink your hot chocolate, dove."

Wordlessly, she lifts the cup to her lips and takes a sip, the decedent taste instantly outweighing the slight sting of pain from the warm liquid hitting her tongue.

It's delicious, just as Harry promised. She doesn't think he could ever steer her wrong, even in the context of something small like a beverage. It's something she learned quickly into meeting him — even when they were just friends, she trusted him implicitly. Perhaps it had been naive on her part, but in all honesty, she wouldn't change it for the world. She feels so lucky to have someone who cherishes her as much as he does, even knowing all the nitty gritty details of her life.

Despite the comfortable lull in conversation, they shuffle closer until their puffer-covered arms are flush against one another. His glove-clad hand reaches out to give her thigh a small squeeze as she people watches and takes in the wintery scenery around them.

"Thank you for bringing me today," she says through cold swollen lips, "I really like it here."

He smiles. "Thank you for coming. Know you're freezing."

She giggles and takes another sip of her hot chocolate. He's just about to ask her if she's ready to head back to his place when a smattering of applause distracts them both. They turn around to see a man on one knee with an engagement ring in his hand and his girlfriend — or fiancee now — nodding her head enthusiastically. It's a picture perfect moment in front of the large decorated Christmas tree with onlookers cheering them on and taking pictures.

"'s sweet." Y/N murmurs, shifting her posture to turn back around. Harry swallows before humming quietly in agreement. He stands from his spot on the bench and holds his hand out to take her empty cup, tossing them both in the garbage can before nodding his head in the direction of the exit.

"Would you ever want something like that?" he blurts out before he can force himself to swallow the words down. She glances up at him as she loops her arm through his, burying her hand back into the warmth of his pocket.

"Like what?"

Harry shrugs. "Like... a big proposal."

"Oh," she wrinkles her nose. "I've never really thought about it, to be honest."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. I always assumed my parents would just marry me off to someone they approved of."

"I'm sorry," he mutters with a shake of his head. "That was a stupid question."

"It's alright. I guess I can think about it now."

He smiles as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn.

"Why're you asking?"

Harry clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders again. With a small smile, she bumps her arm against his, a silent and sweet encouragement to voice his thoughts.

"I think about a future for us, is all."

"You do?"

He returns her smile as they walk across the street, nodding his head. "Of course I do."

"What do you think about?"

"Well, I think about us maybe moving a little further out of the city, but not too far so I can't get to the shop every day. Maybe a dog or a cat... you're working in publishing or editing or doing whatever you want. And we're just... we're happy."

A grin flowers over Y/N's face. She wriggles her hand out of her pocket to grab Harry's, doing her best to give it a squeeze through the layers of their thick gloves.

"That sounds nice," she replies softly as they pass by the familiar shops on the way to Harry's apartment, "Do we get ever get engaged?"

Harry glances down to look at her, a small wrinkle between his eyebrows. "Only if you want that."

She hums. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

She nods as they approach the front of his building.

"Only if you let me get a real Christmas tree every year."

Harry laughs.

"I'll get you one every day if you let me marry you."

. . .

December 23, 2023

"I have an early Christmas present for you."

Y/N peers up at her boyfriend over the frames of her blue light glasses. She's finally finished with finals but has been checking her grades religiously, waiting for them to be posted. With the time she unintentionally took off this semester, she had to work harder than ever to make sure she passed everything.

"Are you trying to distract me from worrying about my grades?"

With a smirk, he shrugs his shoulders boyishly. "Maybe. We both know you killed it, dovie, there's no use in stressing."

She sighs lightly and closes her laptop, placing it on the coffee table.

"Plus, you deserve a reward for doing so well," he murmurs, sitting down next to her. "Do you want your gift?"

"I feel like you're gonna give it to me regardless of what I say."

"You know me well," he says through a laugh. "Alright, close your eyes."

She does as she's told, preparing herself for something silly, like a pack of her favorite Christmas cookies or a coupon for a kiss. Instead, when Harry tells her to open them, he's holding a massive, cuddly teddy bear.

"Oh," she smiles. "This is cute. I had one just like this at my parents' place."

"I know."

It's only when her eyes flitter to his face and she sees his smirk that she realizes he's recounting much dirtier memories than her. Instantly, she blushes, remembering how he somehow figured out what she'd done with her stuffed animals in the time they'd spent apart.

"Do you wanna show me how you did it?" he nearly purrs, kneeling down so he's eye level with her, "I've thought about it almost every day since you admitted to grinding your cute little pussy on your stuffed animals, thinking of me."

She nearly chokes on her spit. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to the way Harry can flip at a moment's notice, his demeanor switching from her sweet, kind boyfriend to a hot domineering version of himself that always manages to fluster her.

The thought of doing... that in front of him is somehow humiliating, even if he's done far dirtier things to her before. Still, though, she doesn't want to disappoint him, and she can't help that the prospect of being a little embarrassed is a turn-on for her — something she only discovered because of him.

"'kay," she breathes out with a small nod of her head.

"'kay?" he echoes with a chuckle, "You wanna show me, pup?"

"Mhm."

He places the teddy bear on its back on the carpeted floor before turning back around and holding his hands out. He guides her down, pretending not to notice the tremble in her hands, and presses a kiss to the side of her head. Ducking down slightly, he tells her she doesn't have to do anything she's uncomfortable with. She's quick to shake her head and give his hand a squeeze, mumbling out, "I want to."

He hopes that she knows well enough to exercise her right to consent at any point — they've had just about a thousand conversations about it over the past few months, and Y/N always swears up and down that she'll tell him if she feels even the tiniest smidge of discomfort.

She straddles the stuffed animal between her thighs like she's done it a million times before, and it makes Harry's stomach squeeze knowing that she has. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she pulls her thin sleep shorts to the side, revealing just the smallest bit of her mound to him.

"Show me, dove," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. He places gentle hands at her hips as he slowly helps her rock forward, a breathy whimper falling from her lips almost immediately. "There you go, that's my good girl. Keep going."

She swallows harshly and repeats the same movement once more, allowing Harry's hands to fall more so in the background. He's not used to seeing his girl in control, but on the rare occasion where he does, it drives him absolutely insane.

With his knees pressing into the fluffy carpet of his living room floor, he suppresses a groan as he watches her; his sweet, soft girl in her flower-printed shorts as she trails deft fingers up to her chest, giving her breast a squeeze. His eyes roam over her body — the dimples in her thighs that appear as she grinds her hips, the slight jiggle in her ass punctuated by quiet moans. He gives her left hip a harsher squeeze to remind her that he's there and her eyes flutter open.

"Does it feel good?" he asks huskily. She nods quickly, though he can tell her thighs are beginning to strain. "Do you need daddy's help?"

He glances down to where her core meets the soft stuffing and smirks when he sees the matted material, a clear sign of her arousal dripping down. He sneaks a hand down below and cups her warm pussy.

"Let daddy have a look, yeah?" he mutters, pushing her body up so he can the study the mess between her legs. "This drippy and swollen just from humping a teddy bear?"

With flushed cheeks, she nods.

"Silly girl."

He lightly pushes her back down so her pussy makes contact with the wet spot she left behind. She gasps quietly as his hands find purchase back on her hips.

"Daddy'll help this desperate pussy cum, alright?"

In a moment, he's guiding her hips up and over the teddy bear, making it so she's doing minimal work. Her eyes fall closed again as her moans get louder and breathier, a telltale sign Harry's learned to look for and adore.

"Atta girl," he mutters lowly, "Let daddy do all the work. Can't believe how cock dumb you get from this— 's kinda pathetic, really."

"'s n-not," she utters through a whimper.

"No? 's not? Then how come you're about to cum from it?"

She wants to fight him on it, even if she normally never would. She's typically quite submissive and it's a dynamic they naturally fell into; one that they're both comfortable with. But with the growing stressors of school constantly thrumming through her brain and Harry's active attempts to teach her to better stand up for herself... well, he's the only person to blame for this sudden change in attitude, after all.

"'m not," she replies with a clenched jaw, holding in the moan threatening to spill from her spit swollen lips. He laughs humorlessly, quirking an eyebrow at her sudden boldness.

"You're not?" he asks, steadying his hands and stopping the rapid gyration of her hips. She puffs out a frustrated breath when he prevents her from moving, suddenly aware of how quickly her heart is beating. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you. I'll make sure you don't cum for days if you wanna act like a brat."

"I'm not being a brat."

Harry snorts and reaches for her hair, twisting his fist in it and pulling. She gasps.

"Say that again."

It's a threat and they both know it. He's curious to see where this goes — if she's really that set on this back-and-forth or if she's ready to be his good girl again.

With her head ducked back in his grasp, her throat bobbing with nerves, he's shocked by her response: "I'm not being a brat."

"Bullshit," he spits. In a second, the tight grip he has on her hair is released, but he's pushing her down, a hand between her shoulder blades so her core and chest are completely flush with the fluffy material. She sounds out a quick oh!, shivering slightly from the rough maneuver. "I'm done helping you. Get yourself off on your own, brat."

She feels like it's a test, but she's leaking now, humiliatingly so, so she issues a tentative roll of her hips, half-expecting some sort of teasing insult from him. He doesn't say a word but he's also removed his hands from her completely now. She feels empty without his touch, though the all-encompassing need to finish is expanding through her body, completely distracting her from any sort of normal response.

"Tell me when you're gonna cum." he says lowly. She nods, feeling his presence from behind her, almost emitting a taunting, looming air. It's only when she hears the familiar slick passes that she realizes he's not as unaffected as she assumed he was. It delivers an ego boost to her, swelling up in her chest as she moves her hips, grinding down against the fabric wet with her juices, knowing that her mean, grumpy boyfriend is watching and getting off to her.

The steady stimulation against her clit is so delicious that she's quick to get to the edge, clawing her fingernails into the carpet. Her jaw drops as she feels her muscles contracting, her eyes rolling back.

"Cum," she pants out in a whimpered tone, "G-gonna cum."

"Good girl."

She gasps from the full-body pleasure, her form shaking as she clutches to the floor for stability. Her orgasm is strong and occurs perfectly in tandem with Harry's, who she realizes is finishing just as she reaches the end of hers. She hears him groaning and it makes her clit buzz, and then feels streaks of hot cum painting her ass. She gasps out in surprise, her lower half still twitching from the intensity.

"Fuck, you're so fucking hot," Harry grunts through clenched teeth, "Fuck."

She continues laying there obediently, waiting for him to finish. She thinks she could fall asleep right here if she wanted to, but Harry is quick to maneuver his position so he's back on his knees in front of her.

"You okay, dove?" he asks gently, smoothing her hair. "Know that was a little rougher than normal. Was it okay?"

With a hazy smile, she nods. "Mhm."

"Alright," he chuckles. "I'm gonna go grab something to clean you up with. Stay here."

She listens to the sounds of him traipsing through his apartment, returning a few moments later with a damp washcloth. He cleans the mess between her thighs followed by the one he painted on her ass, then wraps an arm around her waist to guide her to his bedroom.

"Wait— I don't wanna go to sleep yet," she says with slightly rounded eyes. "It's almost Christmas and— well, we haven't, like, sat by the tree yet."

Harry raises his eyebrows, "Sat by the... tree?" he turns around, glancing at the Christmas tree they purchased a few weeks back, when Y/N originally asked if they could get a real one. If he's being honest, it was overpriced and they haven't been taking the best care of it, so he assumes it'll be dead shortly after Christmas. (He's kind of dreading having to take it out because he's nervous she'll get sad.)

"Yeah... when I was a kid, I always wanted to sit by a real Christmas tree and drink hot chocolate and watch a movie." she explains with a small shrug, "We don't have to do that though, I know you're probably tired from work—"

"I'd love to," Harry's quick to cut her off with a shake of his head. "Why don't you go and put some sweats on and I'll make our hot chocolates, okay?"

"Really?"

He chuckles softly. "Dovie, I'm not sure how you haven't realized this yet, but I would do anything for you."

Her grin is so wide that Harry hopes it never leaves her face.

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