You Don't Even Need This Job
Title: You Don't Even Need This Job
Author: yoshimotourie
Rating: NC-17 maybe.
Pairing: Joe/OFC (unnamed)
Summary: Working until closing at a trendy clothing store sometimes has it's perks.
Disclaimer: Don't own, not real.
Author's Notes: Here's the Joe fic that I mentioned in my last post. I'm much more proud of it. It was inspired by my roomate, once again, but this time, it all had to do with pants. I still don't quite remember what the conversation was, but I believe it had to do with Joe basically having every color of jeans possible. Then this started to form in my head. Also, the title comes from an inside joke with some friends... I thought it would work out well as the title. Enjoy! ^___^
Day after day, night after night, here I was. It's not as if I wanted to be overbooked and overworked, folding clothes, hanging clothes, eating, breathing, shitting clothes. I just needed money to support myself, and if that meant that I had to sell and maintain clothing for the trendy-hipster set, then so be it.
"Well, I'm out for the night," my supervisor said, pulling her long jacket over her arms. "You'll be okay to close on your own, right?"
"For sure," I said with a forced grin, thinking, why must she ask this every single time?
"Alright," she smiled, "remember to lock up before you leave. Just be careful not to lock yourself in!"
Locked in here? Might as well be, I thought, but instead of verbalizing this, I laughed. "I won't, don't worry. See you tomorrow!"
As soon as she left, I let out a deep sigh. Fifteen minutes to close up, leave, and make it to the bus on time. No way in hell.
I left the front counter and walked to the entrance to lock the door. I was just sliding the lock into place when something hit the glass, something large, and I screamed and jumped back. After a moment, I realized it was a human, a tall male with long dark hair. As it was close to eleven PM, it was dark and I couldn't see much else. He peered in at me through the glass with a look of desperation in his eyes. He pointed to the lock with fingers wrapped around the handle and mouthed, "Please?"
I wasn't supposed to open the door to anyone after closing, but he looked quite desperate. He was also very cute. Very typical of this store in his style, but very cute. Ignoring everything I've ever heard about serial killers usually being attractive young males, I thought, he doesn't look like a criminal, what's the harm?
I slid the lock back and opened the door just enough to peek my head out.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh, yes... yes. There's these pants."
He didn't say anything else. I blinked.
"Pants?" I couldn't hold back a smile. "Yeah, we definitely sell those... but we're closed."
His thick, dark eyebrows fell over his brown eyes and his bottom lip pouted. "Aw, come on. Please? It's really important that I get them for tomorrow."
I couldn't say no. He was even better looking in the light, and that pleading expression was not helping matters. I rolled my eyes and opened the door. "Come on in, I guess."
He smiled. "Thank you so, so much." He walked inside and I locked the door again. I'd already taken in one stray tonight, I didn't need any more.
When I turned around, he was looking at the display of skinny jeans, each row a different color of the rainbow. And then some. I wasn't surprised that brightly-colored skinnies would be his thing. He wore a black vest over a white dress shirt (with a pair of white Ray-Ban rip-offs hanging from the collar), and, well, red skinny jeans. The same brand as the ones he was looking at.
"What color were you thinking?" I asked and stood next to him.
"Well," he said, "I already have blue... purple... white... obviously red..." his eyes scanned the display. "So I was thinking maybe orange?"
I looked at him, then the orange jeans, and laughed. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth.
He smiled. "What?"
I shook my head. "No... nothing."
"No, really, what?" He picked up a pair of the orange pants and held them up to his legs.
"Well," I shrugged, "they're... orange. They do not match your skin tone in the slightest, they make you look like a spray-on tan accident."
He bit his lip and giggled under his breath, looking down. I was a little bit shocked at my own bluntness. "I'm sorry... that was rude, I-"
"No, not rude," he said, "honest. I like that." He folded the pants and put them back. "My name's Joe, by the way."
I shook his hand and told him my name. "And, in my honest opinion," I smirked, "you'd look much better in green."
"Hm. I've never thought of that before." He picked up a pair of the green ones in his size and looked them over. "You think so?"
"Yeah," I nodded, "do you want to try them on?"
He looked over at the change rooms, then back to the pants, then me. "Okay, yeah."
On our way through the dimly-lit store, I noticed that Joe was licking and biting his lip. I couldn't help but admire it. It was almost hypnotizing, the way his teeth captured the dry skin, pulled it, then the tongue licked it better. All the while, though, I started to think about what an idiot I was. I couldn't believe that I had let a complete stranger into store after closing. I felt like the world's biggest dumbass. Hence why I was walking with him through the store: he seemed like a nice guy, but I had to make sure he wasn't going to pull any fast moves.
Once at the change rooms, I motioned toward an open door. He smiled, thanked me, and walked in, closing the door behind him.
I stood outside. I could hear zippers and buttons. Fabric rustling together and rubbing against skin. I leaned on the wall and sighed, shaking the leg that wasn't supporting my weight. He was taking a long time in there. Plus, the clothing sounds had stopped.
"Joe?" I stepped toward the door, "... Joe?"
I had just put my fist up to knock when it opened, and standing there was Joe, wearing the green pants with his vest on the floor and his shirt entirely undone and open. His tan skin, speckled in dark freckles, was practically taunting me. And I had been right: green really did work for him.
"Need something?"
"I... I-I... uh..." I stammered, "I was just... checking on you, never mind-"
"You're flustered," he smiled, "why are you flustered?"
"Maybe because you're an attractive guy with his shirt half-off, wearing ridiculously tight pants, looking at me like I'm a piece of meat! I don't talk to guys very often anymore since I got this job and now the most attractive one I've seen in a very long time is throwing himself at me!"
For the second time tonight, I was shocked by what I had said. It was almost as if Joe hadn't heard me, the expression on his face hadn't changed. He grabbed my hand, pulled me into the change room, and kissed me. He kissed me so hard that he backed me onto a wall using mainly his lips. I tried yo resist for a second, tried to pull away from him, but he introduced his tongue to my mouth and I melted inside. He kicked the door closed and locked it with one hand while gripping my hip with the other. The sudden "privacy" seemed to melt away my fear, even though it honestly made no difference.
My hands traveled his stomache and his chest while he kissed me. His tongue pushed circles around mine, and I returned the favor as my hands ran over his nipples and grasped the collar of his shirt. Without missing a beat, Joe released my hips and slid the shirt off, onto the floor that I had tidied only a half-hour before. He held onto either side of my face, barely letting me come up for air. Not that I cared much by this point.
I grabbed for his fly, but he said "no" into my mouth, sliding his hands down my body and back up under my mod-style dress. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and pulled them down to my knees. I bit my lip and worked them off with my legs.
While I was doing that, I hadn't noticed that Joe was lifting my dress up. He had it to my chest, just below my breasts. I lifted up my arms and he pulled it off of my body.
"Mm, not fair," I murmured, reaching for his pants again. He let me this time, his head down, watching me while I unbuttoned and unzipped my contribution to his outfit. As I pushed down on his green jeans, I noticed just how hard he was. It made me grin.
Joe stepped out of his pants and grabbed me around the waist. He pulled me up to carry me, so I thought fast, wrapping my arms and legs around him so that he could lift me and bring me wherever he wanted to go. I couldn't help but giggle.
He carried me the short distance to the solid bench protruding from the wall and laid me down. He got onto his knees on the bench and climbed over me.
"I've wanted this for a long time," he mumbled, kissing my neck. My heart suddenly dropped in shock.
"... We just met."
He looked up at me. "Why do you think I own so many pairs of colored jeans from this store?"
Still a little bit shocked, I sighed and smiled, sitting up just enough for him to unhook my bra. As I was laying back down, he was slipping off my panties and letting them fall to the floor. He looked me over and seemed satisfied. He was about to take off his boxers but I sat up onto my knees and took over. The fabric grazed his erection and revealed it. I smiled and pulled them down to his knees, at which point he had to sit to take them off completely. I sprang into action in that moment and took control. I straddled him, hovering over his dick, and I bit at his jaw. He moaned and squeezed my hips.
"Let me fuck you," he said, "sit down and let me fuck you..."
I laughed quietly into his ear, then I sat down on him slowly, encapsulating him inside of me. His breath was quivering and shaky, as was my own. I tightened my grip on his hair and moved upward with his hands and threw my head back when he pulled me back down. He did this again, the pulling up and down, and I pushed our bodies closer. I just wanted his warm skin against me, beginning to slicken with sweat.
Once we were at a steady pace, he thrusted up when he pulled me down. There wasn't much I could do other than moan and grasp at him, riding out the rhythm that was driving me insane.
One of his hands let go of my hip and slid down between us. He ran his fingers vigorously over my clitoris in a repetitive fashion and I yelped as I started to tighten around him.
"Joe... Joe, I'm gonna-" my warning was cut short and I saw fireworks behind my eyelids as I came, crying out and grasping at his shoulders. While I was riding out my orgasm, Joe came as well. It was apparent in his tangled expression and his repeated cursing and moans of my name.
With a few more out-of-sync thrusts, it was over. Joe's lips were parted breathing heavily, same as I. We sat there, still in the same position, recovering.
Finally, I unstraddled him and stood. I picked his boxers up and tossed them to him. He caught them with a smile and pulled them on as I slipped back into my undergarments.
"So, uh..." I grinned, "how long were you stalking me before tonight?"
He laughed, buttoning his shirt. "It wasn't stalking, it was more like... admiring?"
"Yeah. That's what all stalkers say."
"I wasn't stalking!" he said, still laughing, "I really did think that you were really cute. And I liked how you carried yourself. Like you don't even need this job but you do it anyways."
"Oh, believe me, " I said, "I need this job." I looked myself over in the mirror, now completely dressed. "I need this job just to-" I froze. "Fuck!"
"What?"
"The bus! I missed the bus! Ugh, it was the last one, too!"
Joe walked over and wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay. I'll give you a ride home."
"Really?"
He smiled. "Of course." He kissed my cheek. "I only have one question, though."
"And what's that?"
His expression became devilish once again.
"When I say 'home'... yours, or mine?"
Author: yoshimotourie
Rating: NC-17 maybe.
Pairing: Joe/OFC (unnamed)
Summary: Working until closing at a trendy clothing store sometimes has it's perks.
Disclaimer: Don't own, not real.
Author's Notes: Here's the Joe fic that I mentioned in my last post. I'm much more proud of it. It was inspired by my roomate, once again, but this time, it all had to do with pants. I still don't quite remember what the conversation was, but I believe it had to do with Joe basically having every color of jeans possible. Then this started to form in my head. Also, the title comes from an inside joke with some friends... I thought it would work out well as the title. Enjoy! ^___^
Day after day, night after night, here I was. It's not as if I wanted to be overbooked and overworked, folding clothes, hanging clothes, eating, breathing, shitting clothes. I just needed money to support myself, and if that meant that I had to sell and maintain clothing for the trendy-hipster set, then so be it.
"Well, I'm out for the night," my supervisor said, pulling her long jacket over her arms. "You'll be okay to close on your own, right?"
"For sure," I said with a forced grin, thinking, why must she ask this every single time?
"Alright," she smiled, "remember to lock up before you leave. Just be careful not to lock yourself in!"
Locked in here? Might as well be, I thought, but instead of verbalizing this, I laughed. "I won't, don't worry. See you tomorrow!"
As soon as she left, I let out a deep sigh. Fifteen minutes to close up, leave, and make it to the bus on time. No way in hell.
I left the front counter and walked to the entrance to lock the door. I was just sliding the lock into place when something hit the glass, something large, and I screamed and jumped back. After a moment, I realized it was a human, a tall male with long dark hair. As it was close to eleven PM, it was dark and I couldn't see much else. He peered in at me through the glass with a look of desperation in his eyes. He pointed to the lock with fingers wrapped around the handle and mouthed, "Please?"
I wasn't supposed to open the door to anyone after closing, but he looked quite desperate. He was also very cute. Very typical of this store in his style, but very cute. Ignoring everything I've ever heard about serial killers usually being attractive young males, I thought, he doesn't look like a criminal, what's the harm?
I slid the lock back and opened the door just enough to peek my head out.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh, yes... yes. There's these pants."
He didn't say anything else. I blinked.
"Pants?" I couldn't hold back a smile. "Yeah, we definitely sell those... but we're closed."
His thick, dark eyebrows fell over his brown eyes and his bottom lip pouted. "Aw, come on. Please? It's really important that I get them for tomorrow."
I couldn't say no. He was even better looking in the light, and that pleading expression was not helping matters. I rolled my eyes and opened the door. "Come on in, I guess."
He smiled. "Thank you so, so much." He walked inside and I locked the door again. I'd already taken in one stray tonight, I didn't need any more.
When I turned around, he was looking at the display of skinny jeans, each row a different color of the rainbow. And then some. I wasn't surprised that brightly-colored skinnies would be his thing. He wore a black vest over a white dress shirt (with a pair of white Ray-Ban rip-offs hanging from the collar), and, well, red skinny jeans. The same brand as the ones he was looking at.
"What color were you thinking?" I asked and stood next to him.
"Well," he said, "I already have blue... purple... white... obviously red..." his eyes scanned the display. "So I was thinking maybe orange?"
I looked at him, then the orange jeans, and laughed. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth.
He smiled. "What?"
I shook my head. "No... nothing."
"No, really, what?" He picked up a pair of the orange pants and held them up to his legs.
"Well," I shrugged, "they're... orange. They do not match your skin tone in the slightest, they make you look like a spray-on tan accident."
He bit his lip and giggled under his breath, looking down. I was a little bit shocked at my own bluntness. "I'm sorry... that was rude, I-"
"No, not rude," he said, "honest. I like that." He folded the pants and put them back. "My name's Joe, by the way."
I shook his hand and told him my name. "And, in my honest opinion," I smirked, "you'd look much better in green."
"Hm. I've never thought of that before." He picked up a pair of the green ones in his size and looked them over. "You think so?"
"Yeah," I nodded, "do you want to try them on?"
He looked over at the change rooms, then back to the pants, then me. "Okay, yeah."
On our way through the dimly-lit store, I noticed that Joe was licking and biting his lip. I couldn't help but admire it. It was almost hypnotizing, the way his teeth captured the dry skin, pulled it, then the tongue licked it better. All the while, though, I started to think about what an idiot I was. I couldn't believe that I had let a complete stranger into store after closing. I felt like the world's biggest dumbass. Hence why I was walking with him through the store: he seemed like a nice guy, but I had to make sure he wasn't going to pull any fast moves.
Once at the change rooms, I motioned toward an open door. He smiled, thanked me, and walked in, closing the door behind him.
I stood outside. I could hear zippers and buttons. Fabric rustling together and rubbing against skin. I leaned on the wall and sighed, shaking the leg that wasn't supporting my weight. He was taking a long time in there. Plus, the clothing sounds had stopped.
"Joe?" I stepped toward the door, "... Joe?"
I had just put my fist up to knock when it opened, and standing there was Joe, wearing the green pants with his vest on the floor and his shirt entirely undone and open. His tan skin, speckled in dark freckles, was practically taunting me. And I had been right: green really did work for him.
"Need something?"
"I... I-I... uh..." I stammered, "I was just... checking on you, never mind-"
"You're flustered," he smiled, "why are you flustered?"
"Maybe because you're an attractive guy with his shirt half-off, wearing ridiculously tight pants, looking at me like I'm a piece of meat! I don't talk to guys very often anymore since I got this job and now the most attractive one I've seen in a very long time is throwing himself at me!"
For the second time tonight, I was shocked by what I had said. It was almost as if Joe hadn't heard me, the expression on his face hadn't changed. He grabbed my hand, pulled me into the change room, and kissed me. He kissed me so hard that he backed me onto a wall using mainly his lips. I tried yo resist for a second, tried to pull away from him, but he introduced his tongue to my mouth and I melted inside. He kicked the door closed and locked it with one hand while gripping my hip with the other. The sudden "privacy" seemed to melt away my fear, even though it honestly made no difference.
My hands traveled his stomache and his chest while he kissed me. His tongue pushed circles around mine, and I returned the favor as my hands ran over his nipples and grasped the collar of his shirt. Without missing a beat, Joe released my hips and slid the shirt off, onto the floor that I had tidied only a half-hour before. He held onto either side of my face, barely letting me come up for air. Not that I cared much by this point.
I grabbed for his fly, but he said "no" into my mouth, sliding his hands down my body and back up under my mod-style dress. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and pulled them down to my knees. I bit my lip and worked them off with my legs.
While I was doing that, I hadn't noticed that Joe was lifting my dress up. He had it to my chest, just below my breasts. I lifted up my arms and he pulled it off of my body.
"Mm, not fair," I murmured, reaching for his pants again. He let me this time, his head down, watching me while I unbuttoned and unzipped my contribution to his outfit. As I pushed down on his green jeans, I noticed just how hard he was. It made me grin.
Joe stepped out of his pants and grabbed me around the waist. He pulled me up to carry me, so I thought fast, wrapping my arms and legs around him so that he could lift me and bring me wherever he wanted to go. I couldn't help but giggle.
He carried me the short distance to the solid bench protruding from the wall and laid me down. He got onto his knees on the bench and climbed over me.
"I've wanted this for a long time," he mumbled, kissing my neck. My heart suddenly dropped in shock.
"... We just met."
He looked up at me. "Why do you think I own so many pairs of colored jeans from this store?"
Still a little bit shocked, I sighed and smiled, sitting up just enough for him to unhook my bra. As I was laying back down, he was slipping off my panties and letting them fall to the floor. He looked me over and seemed satisfied. He was about to take off his boxers but I sat up onto my knees and took over. The fabric grazed his erection and revealed it. I smiled and pulled them down to his knees, at which point he had to sit to take them off completely. I sprang into action in that moment and took control. I straddled him, hovering over his dick, and I bit at his jaw. He moaned and squeezed my hips.
"Let me fuck you," he said, "sit down and let me fuck you..."
I laughed quietly into his ear, then I sat down on him slowly, encapsulating him inside of me. His breath was quivering and shaky, as was my own. I tightened my grip on his hair and moved upward with his hands and threw my head back when he pulled me back down. He did this again, the pulling up and down, and I pushed our bodies closer. I just wanted his warm skin against me, beginning to slicken with sweat.
Once we were at a steady pace, he thrusted up when he pulled me down. There wasn't much I could do other than moan and grasp at him, riding out the rhythm that was driving me insane.
One of his hands let go of my hip and slid down between us. He ran his fingers vigorously over my clitoris in a repetitive fashion and I yelped as I started to tighten around him.
"Joe... Joe, I'm gonna-" my warning was cut short and I saw fireworks behind my eyelids as I came, crying out and grasping at his shoulders. While I was riding out my orgasm, Joe came as well. It was apparent in his tangled expression and his repeated cursing and moans of my name.
With a few more out-of-sync thrusts, it was over. Joe's lips were parted breathing heavily, same as I. We sat there, still in the same position, recovering.
Finally, I unstraddled him and stood. I picked his boxers up and tossed them to him. He caught them with a smile and pulled them on as I slipped back into my undergarments.
"So, uh..." I grinned, "how long were you stalking me before tonight?"
He laughed, buttoning his shirt. "It wasn't stalking, it was more like... admiring?"
"Yeah. That's what all stalkers say."
"I wasn't stalking!" he said, still laughing, "I really did think that you were really cute. And I liked how you carried yourself. Like you don't even need this job but you do it anyways."
"Oh, believe me, " I said, "I need this job." I looked myself over in the mirror, now completely dressed. "I need this job just to-" I froze. "Fuck!"
"What?"
"The bus! I missed the bus! Ugh, it was the last one, too!"
Joe walked over and wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay. I'll give you a ride home."
"Really?"
He smiled. "Of course." He kissed my cheek. "I only have one question, though."
"And what's that?"
His expression became devilish once again.
"When I say 'home'... yours, or mine?"