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gojonanami · 2 months

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❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 ! ❞

❝ SATORU GOJO KNOWS JUST HOW TO KEEP YOU COOL DURING A HEATWAVE - WITH HIS D!CK !! ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x reader

✧ summary: it’s a heatwave in tokyo and who better to spend it with than satoru, who has an interesting idea of how to pass the time — fucking the heat away.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, porn some plot, best friends to lovers, tiny bit of angst about suguru, inappropriate uses of popsicles, fucking in the heat, ice play, sex (p in v), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), cum eating, cum fucking, pussy drunk satoru, implied multiple rounds, fanart by @ / umbra3terna on twt / tumblr (pls go follow htem, they are so talented)

✧ w/c: 7,161

“It’s so fucking hot,”

“Then let’s fuck to cool off.”

What?

You stared at the strongest sorcerer, his face flushed red, heat clinging to his cheeks, white locks blowing in the cool breeze of the fan, his shirt lifted up to cool him or maybe to tempt you, his melting popsicle dripping onto his burning skin — and your eyes flicked to the blue liquid slipping down his abs, then back to his face.

The low buzz of the fan filled the silence between the two of you as you stared at him, “what?” The question slipping from your mind out your lips.

Satoru Gojo had far too many outrageous things leave his mouth — he was insolent, arrogant, and even mildly violent (mostly towards Ijichi) — but you didn’t know if it was him or the heat — but you were considering it.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

(Him. It was him that was wrong with you.)

It was a heatwave in Tokyo. The one rare time you hadn’t been sent away on a mission, and you couldn’t even leave your apartment with the heat warning issued. Not to mention your central air breaks down, with a repairman nowhere in sight.

It was just your luck.

You rub at your eyes — and you weren’t sure if they were burning from your sweat or your lack of sleep last night. You’re blasting your fans around your apartment, stripped down to your shortest shorts and lightest tank top. You’re walking around your kitchen, using a takeout menu to fan yourself as you watch your order drive towards your place. There was no fucking way you were cooking in this weather.

And you see a phone call come through — Gojo Satoru’s name flashing across the top of the screen. You sigh, contemplating ignoring the phone call, but you know he would only call a million times more, and you pick up.

“Why did it take you so long to pick up my phone call?” and you shake your head, placing the call on speaker as you watch your takeout arrive at your place.

“It literally rang twice,” Satoru’s patience had not changed since your time Jujutsu Tech — as you glance at your contact photo, a picture of him dressed in Shoko’s skirt from your school days, with Geto snickering in the background — though a lot of things had.

“Two times too many,” you knew he was pouting.

“Satoru, unless the next words out of your mouth is an offer is to fly me to a place where the weather is better, I’m gonna hang up on you,” you sigh, making your way to the door, opening the door to find Satoru standing there, looking far too stylish in a white t-shirt, his blue shorts hanging low on his waist, and sunglasses perched precariously on his head, your takeout in hand, “what are you doing here?”

“Well I thought you wouldn’t want to take a beach day with me unless I showed up to your place. Ta-da!” he lifts up a duffel bag, seemingly stuffed to the brim.

“Satoru, there’s a weather advisory out. I’m pretty sure all the beaches are closed, and even if you’re immune to heatstroke, I’m not,” you step aside to pull him inside, the humidity sucking the little cool air you have in your apartment, “why did you think going to the beach in this heat was a good idea?”

He shrugs, “An excuse to get out of the house, plus, my apartment’s cooling is out—“

“So you thought even if you couldn’t go to the beach, you could steal my A.C.?” you sigh, collapsing on the couch, “well too bad because mine’s busted too,” you glance over, but your gaze doesn’t find Satoru, seeing his paintbrush head stuck in your freezer, “you’re going to melt—“ he turns around to have a blue popsicle stuck in his mouth and you almost snort at the sight, “bring me one too.”

“What should we do?” you murmur, sticking the popsicle in your mouth, as you laid back on the couch, sucking on the end of it, “watch a movie?”

“It feels too hot to do anything but lay here,” Satoru sighed, the crinkle of his second popsicle white noise as you scroll through possible movie options on your phone, until you toss it away, metal overheating just as you were.

“Well, we have to fucking do something other than just burn,” and you glance over, his white tee rolled up to expose his stomach as he ate his popsicle, and you raise an eyebrow, “what the hell are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? Enjoying my popsicle,” he half mumbles as he continues to suck on the colored ice, “it’s better than it getting on my shirt,” You watch the popsicle drip onto his exposed abs, liquid pooling in the crevices of his toned muscles, you lick at your own popsicle, catching the drops off the melting ice with your tongue, wondering how much sweeter it would taste to lick it off his abs, “see something you like sweetheart?”

His teasing words and wide grin pry you from your reverie with the subtlety of a crowbar, and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes, “You’re a dumbass,” you mutter, and he snickers at you, as you avert your gaze from him, and go back to eating your popsicle.

You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you as you slide the popsicle into your mouth, and you definitely don’t miss the way he eyes you as you suck at the fruity ice, before letting it slip from your lips, leaving only the tip of it pressed against your lips.

“See something you like, Satoru?” and he has no reaction, shamelessly staring still, as he tilts his head.

“I do,” he says without missing a beat, lifting his gaze to meet your own, “are you offering?” and you blink, before looking away — why was everything with Satoru a game of chicken? A bull’s rush to the line the two of you refused to cross, but did everything to pull the other over it. But neither of you had faltered, not in all these years.

Not since the very last summer just like this.

The sun had sunk past the horizon line, the summer night only predicated by the harmony of cicadas and the humidity that still stubbornly clung to the air, despite the sun being long gone. And that’s when Satoru had knocked on your door to tell you — tell you what had happened with Geto.

He was gone. He had left. And he wasn’t coming back.

And why was it that the signs were all there, laid out before you like directions to where he was going — and you didn’t see them, obscured by his empty reassurances and your own selfishness.

You didn’t blame Suguru. Not after everything that had happened with Riko, Haibara, and everything else. But when you saw Satoru before you, despondent and broken — not a single inch of his usual flippant humor present, not a bit of his joy that he always had. But a part of you wanted to blame him — blame him for hurting Satoru, for hurting you, so prolifically.

But you couldn’t blame him all the same.

Satoru had spent the next few nights in your place, even sharing your bed at time, waking up with his long limbs tangled with your own, his face often buried in the crook of your neck, and you could see the evidence of dried tears on his face, despite his best efforts to cover his own tear tracks.

“Do you think I could have stopped him?” he had asked you that night, his head laid in your lap as you flipped through the channels of the shitty TV you had brought from home and refused to replace, “do you think he would have listened?”

“I think Suguru is even more stubborn as you are — because you were stubborn enough not to listen to your best friends,” your fingers cupped the bottom of his chin, “there wasn’t anything you could do — you can’t help someone who wasn’t willing to accept it,”

“I could have made him,” and his skies contained in his eyes were infinite — just as he thought of himself — but he wasn’t. Because unlike the sky, he was human.

“No, you couldn’t have,” you flick his forehead, and he pouts up at you, “and sitting here and wondering what ifs will do nothing for you — except drive you and your very excellent best friend crazy,”

“Lucky for me she loves me even when I drive her crazy,” and you roll your eyes, a smile pulling on your lips, as he stares up at you, your fingers mindlessly tracing the length of his jaw, feeling the quake of his body as he shivered under your touch.

“Very lucky,” and you could feel the pull between your bodies, the ever so slight way you leaned, willing for once to cross that line for him, for you — but he turned on his side, facing the TV instead of you.

“What should we watch?”

And you had promised yourself that night, you wouldn’t let your feelings get in the way of your friendship, you wouldn’t do that to him — because you knew he had already lost too much.

But now—he was the one trying to cross the line.

You stared at him, before scoffing, “Shut up,” but you were too afraid to let him. Your eyes drift back to the TV, leaning back against the couch — it was for the best this way, “think the heat’s getting to you more than you admit,”

“Maybe,” he hums, as you finish your popsicle and sigh, leaning back on the couch again, with a groan.

“It’s so fucking hot,” you sighed, leaning back on the couch, head hanging over the armrest.

And you could feel his gaze on you, undeterred from before, “Then let’s fuck to cool off.”

You almost think you heard him wrong, as you slowly lift your head to look at him. You must have heard him wrong. Satoru was known to make bad jokes or say ridiculous things — but not like this. And you find a smirk across his lips, but the heat in his gaze had not a hint of humor in it — burning hotter than the sun taunting all of Tokyo.

“What?” You don’t know what you want him to say — say that it was a joke, say that you heard him wrong, or just say it again. But your eyes can’t pull away from his, the blue of his eyes pulling you close instead of pushing you away unlike his technique by the same name.

“You heard me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head, biting into his popsicle, letting the tip slip into his mouth, “we could fuck the heat away,” the idea slips so casually from his lips, as if he was recommending a movie or a book, and not fucking you here and now.

“Satoru—“ your voice is chiding, you’re shaking your head, but the couch creaks as he leans forward, the remnants of his popsicle slipping down his abs and through his happy trail and seeping into his shorts, “don’t fuck around—“

“Do you think I’d say that to you of all people just to fuck around?” he raises his eyebrows, and your words flee your mind just as you wish to, but you sit, wondering if this is a literal fever dream from the heat, “you don’t have to think about it so much,”

“Don’t I?” you scoff, shaking your head, as you get to your feet, wiping the sweat from your forehead, “Satoru, why—“

And he’s getting to his feet, wiping the melted popsicle on his stomach with his white shirt, no longer caring as much as he said he did. And you can feel the heat radiate from his body, all consuming just as this heatwave was — clinging to you even as you tried to keep cool, sweat dripping off your flesh like the pleas that left your lips.

“I’ve thought about this for too long, too many times,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against your cheek, featherlight as if you’d break apart under his touch, “we’re sitting in your place — it’s just you and me. You’re asking why, and I’m asking why not?”’

“I don’t want to sleep with you just like that, I can’t. I want it—“ you cut off, but he doesn’t let you turn your head, hand cupping your cheek now.

“You want what, sweetheart?” Your mouth was impossibly dry, the words unable to force their way from your throat, “tell me, please,” and the pleading in his voice breaks you.

“I want it to mean something,” and his gaze softens, as your eyes meet his again, a ghost of a chuckle on his lips, “it’s not funny—“ and he’s daring even closer, a hand sliding down your side.

“It’s funny because you could think I would ever want anything that’s to do with you to be only meaningless,” he murmurs, words fanning your skin, and god it was so fucking hot. Between the temperature, his closeness, and his words, you were sure you’d pass out, “do you know how many times I wanted to do this? So many times during the days and nights we’d spent together, I wanted to just reach over and pull you into a kiss,”

“Then why didn’t you?” your brow furrows, “and why now?”

“Because I’m tired of waiting for a sign, for something in my head to tell me it’s safe, that you won’t disappear,” his thumb rubs back and forth, “just like every good thing in my life,”

“I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me at this point,” and his lips curl, a breath away, “Toru—“

“Can I kiss you?” and you almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but you can’t, the heat so thick it feels as if every molecule of your body was on fire, and the only thing that could quench the flames was his lips. So you just nod wordlessly.

His lips find yours. It was chaste, a brush of his lips against yours, the lingering sweetness of the popsicle dancing on your tongue. It’s too soon that he’s pulling away, your lips mourning the absence of his touch already.

“Feeling cooler?” his words warm your lips, but even so you’re pulling him back into another kiss, lips sliding against his firmly, his fingers tangling in his hair, wanting nothing more than to melt into his grasp.

And you part your lips from his for a moment,” Not at all,” and your eyes flicker to your refrigerator, “but maybe we can cool down.”

“Fuck,” Satoru shivered, and he wasn’t sure if it was your lips against his pulse, or from the drag of the quickly melting popsicle against his burning skin. But neither of those compared to the soft groan ripped from his lips as your tongue dragged up his side, following the sticky, sweet trail of melted ice, mixing with his sweat, “well, am I sweeter than ice cream?”

He’s too sweet.

He’s certainly sweet like this, laid out on your bed for you, his shirt long discarded, his shorts about to join them. Soft pants made his chest rise and fall, slowing and quickening with your touch — his pulse thrumming under your touch.

But he’s also sweet with the way he looks up at you, soft eyes to match his smile, as if he was made to look at you like this. And a part of you wanted to believe he was — even if most of you couldn’t quite believe it.

Your lips curl, humming as you press a wet kiss to his sticky skin, “i don’t know, I need more time to make my final decision,” you lick up the length of the rapidly melting sweet, droplets of sweet sugar water dissolving on your tongue, but you knew it really was nothing compared to the taste of his lips.

But you weren’t going to tell him that.

You take a bite of the popsicle, before leaning down to kiss him, letting the ice melt between your tongues, as his fingers tangled in your locks, and soon enough he’s rolling you onto your back, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

And he leans forward, eating the last bit of the popsicle from the stick, “Well it’s my turn to taste now,”

“You can’t even wait your turn for this, huh—“ the last word is a squeal as his fingers slide into the waistband of your shorts, snapping it against your heated skin, flames licking everywhere he touches.

The melted popsicle runs down his muscles, rivulets running down the contours of his body, before dripping onto your burning skin, nipples pulling taut from the sticky sugar. He leans down to tease one nipple, sucking the melted liquid off, before doing the same to the other.

“I’ve waited long enough, sweetheart,” and he’s dragging your shorts off, thighs crying out in relief as the cool air of the fan did it’s job to ebb away the heat ever so slightly, drying the layer of sweat, “I don’t want to wait another minute,”

“So impatient,” you chide teasingly, voice lilting and yet he looks at you with a half lidded gaze, sending a wave of heat right to your core. And the way your thighs press together doesn’t go unnoticed, fingers splayed against the plushness of your thighs, forcing them gently apart. Your cheeks burned, and this time not from the weather, “Toru—“

His cerulean eyes find the wet patch of your panties, a smirk pulling at the corners of his pretty lips, “Don’t think this is sweat, baby,” he teases, fingers skimming over the damp spot, “or should I make sure?”

“Satoru—“ and your chiding is cut off by the sinful press of his fingers to your clothed cunt, his dark eyes lidded as they watch your slick soak through the ruined panties already. And you can’t help the way your hips buck against his hand, “you motherfucker—“

“Funny coming from the one humping my hand,” he grins, and his thumb grinds down against your clit, his other slipping under your ass to knead the soft flesh, “maybe it is sweat and I should just leave you to cool off,” his fingers slipping away, delicious friction that your cunt was already spread open, wet, and willing for—

A whine leaves your throat, an all too pretty noise, “Toru, please, I—“ and his fingers are hooking in the fabric of your panties before ripping them off, quite literally, the sound of tearing fabric making you gape at him, “what the fuck—“

“It’s too hot for these anyway,” Satoru pockets the panties in his shorts, “look at this, you’re burning up,” he stares at your leaking pussy shamelessly — because shame was a word that Satoru Gojo did not know, “and I think I know just what to do to cool you down,” his head leans down, blowing softly at your inner thighs, over the sweat mixed your pre that coated your skin, your folds twitching, just as the corners his lips did, “so needy,”

“You’re the fucking worst,” your words a mutter unfolding into a gasp as he drags a single finger up your leaking folds, gathering your slick on the tip of his index, and then he’s tracing a slow circle around your clit, “Toru,” your words are half pleading, half pouting. It’s so hot, his touch only serving to make you sweat — literally and metaphorically. You were sure your sheets would be ruined after this — and not just from your sweat.

“Lemme savor this, you kept me waiting so long, Princess,” his reverent words pressed against your inner thigh, teasing butterfly kisses that make you squirm, a flick of his sharp tongue that tastes the sweat against your skin, “how’re you this sweet? S’perfect,” his words are seemingly more for him than you, pussy drunk without even taking a single sip.

But not for long.

His nose bumps against your clit, tongue flicking against the seam of your messy cunt, eager fingers pulling the sticky, sweaty skin apart, and your cheeks burn with how exposed you feel—and how self conscious you were.

“M-maybe this isn’t a good idea. I’m really sweaty—“ and the flat of his tongue drags up your sopping pussy, and fuck, good wasn’t enough to describe it.

“Then I better clean my nasty girl up, right?” he cools your sticky skin with another soft puff of air blown between lips glossy with your precum, making you whimper as he pulls away, “one sec, sweetheart, think I need reinforcements,”

The creak of the bed as he scurried off for a moment making you lift your head, an embarrassingly strong ache between your legs making you whine, legs closing, as you bit your lip, “Toru, what the fuck—“

And he’s back, but not empty handed — a glass filled to the brim with ice, a grin on his lips, “ready to cool off, Princess?”

~~~

“A-ah, too cold,” you whine, and Satoru can’t help but disagree it’s far too hot — and it wasn’t the weather. It was you.

You were always hot. You always had been — otherwise how else did you melt his icy demeanor from the moment you met? Too big of a chip on his shoulder from all those years spent at the lonely top of his clan, and you had no problem keeping company up there while kicking off his pedestal.

Fuck, you’re so pretty like this. Gasps pulled from spit soaked lips, chest rising up and down, and your legs spread open just for him. You shivered as he dragged a half melted ice cube along your collarbone, water trailing behind that he was more than dragging his tongue along, the sweetness of your skin mixed with the tang of your sticky sweat.

How had he resisted for so long?

It had been years and years of pining. Of late night spent watching movies, of days spent fighting alongside each other, and even more days spent trying to get home to the other. And all that time, he still had stayed at the same distance.

Because it was safer. It was easier. But he wasn’t know what it was — the heat, patience wearing thin, the fucking sight of your smile even in this fucked world — but he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Not without you by his side.

“Think the ice would beg to differ, sweetheart,” he hums, as he presses a kiss over the pooling ice as it melts right above the swell of your breast, “I’d say it’s much too hot,” your nipples grow hard under his treatment, a hiss leaving your lips, as he sucks the ice water from one nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger.

“Toru, fuck, please—“ your words cut off with another gasp as he buries his face in the swell of your breasts, licking up the valley, before his lips find your pert nipples, lips closing around, sucking and licking, before nibbling at the skin.

“You always this needy, pretty? Or is it just for me?” his words are said teasingly, but his eyes are just as desperate as yours, fingers dragging down your sides now, “better be just for me,” he mutters more to himself than you, as you gasp, ice cold fingers prying your thighs apart, “heh, what a mess you’ve made,” his fingers skim your dripping cunt, and he lifts his fingers to spread them in front of your face, your pre strung like spider webs between them, “don’t think sweat’s does this, does it?”

And he turns his head, pressing kisses to your thighs, a glorified slip and slide from your sweat and pre alike, but how was it that you still tasted so sweet? A whimper escapes your bitten lips, his breath warming your pussy, a puff of air blowing over your twitching entrance, eyes sliding to the glass of melting ice.

“You put a fucking ice cube in me and I’ll—“ he snorts, but grabs an ice cube all the same.

“Only I belong inside you, baby, nothing else,” and he presses the ice cube to his lips, your eyes hypnotized as you watch him drag it back and forth, until he lets it slip into his lips, melting as he leans down, “now let me cool you off,” he presses his lips to your clit, a short kiss that has him melting all the same.

You jerk. Cold. His lips tingled as his lips enveloped your clit, and his tongue was no better. Fucking freezing, a yelp that he rips from your body, as you can’t help but squirm. But he doesn’t let you get away that easily. Because nothing about the two of you was ever easy.

His fingers press into your hips, arms pinning your body to the mussed sheets of your bed, as his tongue circles your clit, cold ebbing away with each stroke, until he’s lost in the warmth of your pussy.

And Satoru only could wish he set up a camera — so he can watch you again and again with your gaze hazy with lust, tears welling like the condensation on the glass on making your eyes just as glassy, but you stared at him all the same.

So he might as well give you a show.

“Fuck, could live in this tight cunt, you’re gonna be the only sweet thing I drink all summer,” the only summer drink he will settle for — the only thing sweeter than sugar itself — and he only one he wants. His tongue parts your folds, sinking deeper past your entrance, until he’s practically tongue fucking you, face buried in your cunt.

“T-Toru, ngh, too much,” and it was all too much for him — your soft moans, the lewd squelch of your pussy, the tremble of your thighs as he ate you out, and his tongue pulls back a moment, choosing to focus on your clit, as he sinks a cold finger inside, “fuck!”

“Now you’re getting it, Princess,” he coos, and your scowl only lasts a second as his thick finger fucks you open, “gotta make sure I fit don’t I?”

“You’re so fucking full of it—how about less talk and more—“ and he presses his erection against your leg, letting you feel how hard you’ve gotten him, and how fucking much he could cum in his boxers here and now. And you whimper, pussy clenching at the sight of him, “Toru, how will you—how—“

He’s so fucking big.

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” and he’s slipping in a second finger, as his tongue laps at your clit, “I’ll make myself fit,” and he would be the only one who would fit, the only one that could fuck your cunt, have his fingers curling deep, the only one making your head loll back against the pillow, “she’ll let me in, fuck you right, make sure I can carve out a nice place for myself — when I fuck every inch of her,”

And his fingers piston into you, surely pruning with how your pre slips down his wrists and the wet sounds of your sloppy cunt grow louder, almost louder than the moans you make.

Almost.

“Said I’m the fucking worst, but it sounds like I’m the best, huh?” and you’re too far lost in the pleasure, nodding your head, as he’s fucked all the logic from your mind — leaving only want behind. And it seems like you both were on the same page now.

It was nasty, the way his tongue took turns lapping at your walls, before teasing them open with his fingers. The way his sweat dripped down his face and mixed with your pre as he glued himself to your pretty pussy — and he was sure he could die of heatstroke with how fucking warm your pussy was.

And he would die happy.

But he knew you were close — with the way your hips were nearly grinding against his face and fingers, spit mixing with pre as he pulled away a moment, continuing to hit every spot that drove you to the edge closer and closer, “G’nna cum already, baby?” His taunting lilt makes you scowl, even with how far gone you were, “s’cute, is it that easy?”

“T-toru, I swear—“ and his lips latch to your clit, sucking hard, right as his fingers find that spot—and he swears your soul leaves your body, your body tenses under his touch, lovely lips falling open with his name on it as you cum.

Well, more like squirt, your release making even more of a mess of yourself, the sheets, and him. It splatters across his face and hands, and he’s groaning, vibrating against your cunt, as he fucks you through your orgasm, sucking and slurping every drop you gave him. And it’s a feat as you absolutely drench his mouth, slick, sweat, and spit, dripping down his jaw.

And he’s a fucking vision, once you get it back, far gone in the pleasure, as he continued to lap at you, until he finally pulls his fingers from you, and your eyes flutter open, chest rising and falling as you watch him lick each one of his digits clean, sliding him into his mouth, “what? Y’know i love my sweets,” his tongue then darts out to clean your slick from his face, before wiping the rest off.

You’re reaching for him, eager fingers finding his shoulder, as you tug him on top of you, before flipping him with ease, so his back hits the mattress. He stares up at you — and god, did he always look at you like this? And how did you never see it — and how would you ever stop?

“Princess—” but you don’t let him protest, lips meeting his, a soft groan as you taste yourself on his lips, palms sliding down his sticky chest, and your lips journey downwards, ghosting down his body. Your lips linger over his raised nipples, tonguing and teasing them, a hint of sweetness that lingers from his popsicle undoubtedly.

“And you said I was sweet, you’re the one covered in melted popsicle,” you mumble, and he smirks, but his reply melts into a groan as the tip of your tongue traces the ridges of his abs, “can’t take it, Toru?”

“F-fuck, can you blame me, sweetheart? Been thinking about this for too long. Wanted nothing more, nothing more than you,” and your lips graze down his happy trail, a sharp inhale as he shudders as your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, tugging it down.

He’s perfect — just like every part of him, almost annoyingly so, if you weren’t too busy drooling over it. Swollen tip flushed a deep red, while the rest was a perfect blush pink that you wanted to paint your cheeks with, glossy with precum and sweat, begging to be touched.

And you were more than happy to oblige.

He nearly cums then and there when his cock grazes your cheek, smearing his pearly precum across your face. You turn your head, letting his tip drag over your lips, painting your lips with his pre.

“Shit—“ he sucks air between his teeth, fingers digging into the sheets of the mattress, “not gonna last long at this rate—“

“I’ve barely started, surprised the honored one hasn’t cummed in his boxers yet,” he pouts, before he’s hissing as your lips press teasing kisses to your inner thighs, “can’t handle the heat?” And the tip of your tongue licks at the pubes above his cock, the melted sugar water clinging to the skin there, leaning down to kiss the tip of his cock— “then maybe you shouldn’t have started this—-“

And his fingers sink into your flesh, and now you’re on your back, sweat making you nearly stick to the sheets but you could care less with the sight above you. His cheeks flushed as he looks at down at you, but his lips curled in the same grin he always had, “oh, I’m going to be the one end it,”

“End it? Don’t tell me this is the last I’m seeing of you,” vulnerability creeps back in a moment, and his fingers traces the curve of your cheek and down to your lips — “didn’t take you the type to hit it and quit it,”

And he snorts, “I didn’t take you as the type to know what that means,” but his thumb rubs back and forth across your bottom lip, “but do you think after all this time I could ever quit you?”

His fingers grasp at the base of his weeping cock, groaning as he teases your entrance with his tip, marking you with his precum, your gasp making his dick twitch, as if it’s begging to be inside you. “All of this is for you,” he grunts, guiding your hand to his chest, feeling his heart thus underneath your palm, “it’s always been for you,”

“I’m starting to think you didn’t wanna just fuck the heat away,” and he laughs, his tip kissing your entrance, just as he brushed his lips against yours.

“Well, who said that was the only reason?” And he’s sinking inside you, inch by inch. And there far too many fucking inches. He groans at the sight of your folds, swallowing his cock whole, walls stretching around his length, “look how good you take me — this perfect pussy was made for me, isn’t that right?” and you’re nodding wordlessly, lips parted in a silent moan, as your walls pulled him deeper and deeper, “not g’nna be able to control myself, shit, feels too good, princess,”

“Feels too good to be like this,” you’re panting as the words leave your lips, your eyes glassy with lust — Satoru swears you could look at him, and it would be enough for him to fuck you all over again, “too big, Toru — you gonna fuck me stupid,” and you can feel his dick grow, pushing against your walls as he bottoms out, and you whine in return, “hngh, I wasn’t being serious—”

“So tight,” An almost guttural hiss pulled from the back of his throat, and he’s smug as he looks down at you, mouth fallen open, “I’m always serious about fucking you stupid, sweetheart,” as he lifts your legs, pressing them to your chest, your ankles dangling next to his head, as he kisses the soft skin there, a wicked grin, despite the sweat trickling down his face, “it’s the one time I can be smarter than you,”

He’s torturing you. Torturing you as he grinds his hips roughly against you, the lewd noises of your sloppy cunt and the sticky perspiration between your bodies deafening, yet still won’t give you what you want. More than that, the heat between your bodies was too much — flames engulfed every muscle with every brush of his body against yours, every twitch of his dick inside you, and veins full of fire rather than blood. And you were sure you’d spontaneously combust in this heat, and he’d still fuck you all the same — letting himself be swallowed up by the fire just as well.

Your moan was almost unrecognizable to you, the pleading in your voice bone deep, just as the heat was, “Please, Toru, move,” and he’s grunting, and you know he wants you — has wanted you all these years, and he only smiles at your words, a short laugh on his lips.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” and his fingers dig into your hips as he begins to fuck you, hard and fast. His balls slap against your skin, the noise ringing in your ears, and your cunt resists every time he pulls out — as if you never want him to go. And he never will. He can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this — see the way your lips part in moans; the way your eyes glaze over in pleasure; the way sweat drips down your face, running down into the divot between your tits; the way your tight cunt bulges at the sides as you take his dick so well — no, this is a sight just for him, “s’pretty, and all for me,”

You’re already s’close after all the teasing all night, the sounds of his grunts and groans doing nothing to help as his tip rams against your cervix, and you’re sure his dick is fucking places you only dreamed of reaching, but still you can’t help but want more—so much so that the word slips from your mouth.

He laughs, fingers pushing on the slight bulge in your stomach making you gasp, the sweat of his palm mixing with your own that gathered on your stomach, “Even when you’re getting your guts fucked, you want more, sweetheart?” and his fingers rub meanly at your clit, pinching and pulling at the sensitive spot as his tip hits that spot that has your vision blurring again and again, “I’ll give you anything you want, because you’re mine,”

And you’re surprised the bed frame doesn’t break as he begins to slam into you, but it does creak, begging for a break, just as you had begged for this dick. Your eyes water as he rams into you, rutting like a dog in heat, and maybe he was — maybe you both were.

“Toru, Toru, I’m close, s’close, I can’t—“ and you’re so cute, like this, whining and begging for him, for the thing only he can give you — and he’s twitching inside you, and he knows he’s not far behind.

“Cum for me,” he nearly orders, and his words are the thing that makes the ribbon of heat in your cunt snap. Your toes curl, as you cum hard around his cock, walls squeezing and shuddering around him as he only pistons into you harder and deeper, intent on making you feel pleasure in every inch of your body, and he’s shifting your legs, hands helping you wrap them around his waist, as he ruts into you, chasing his own high.

You’re boneless and long gone, as your chest bumps against his as he fucks you, but you still manage to find words to push him over the edge, goad him as you always did, because you know right where to touch (especially now).

“G’nna cum inside me, Toru? Fill me up with your release?” and he swore he lost the ability to breathe, heat and your words stealing the breath from his lungs, as he ruts into you, mix of sweat and sex making his head spin, but not as much as your sweet cunt does.

He’s close, he knows he is, especially when he looks to see the ring of cum and sweat around the base of his cock, and when your fingers thread through his white locks, thumb rubbing against his undercut, to pull him back into a bruising kiss, right as his cock hits your deepest part again—

“Cum for me, Toru,” and he does, uncoiling at your command, spurting thick ropes of cum inside your walls, painting your insides, as he fucks it deeper into you with every roll of his hips. Debauched groans leaving his lips as he murmurs how perfect you are, because you are — even more than he could have ever imagined. His thrusts slow, the sticky sweat and cum drenching both of you and the sheets alike. He pulls himself gently from inside, groaning at the loss of your warmth, but also wondering if your cunt doubled as an oven — the cool air of the fan sliding over his bare skin a relief.

He eases onto your side, pressing sweet kisses all over your face, before you bury it in the crook of his neck for a moment, before pulling away, “You’re all sticky,” you wrinkle your nose, with a whine, and he laughs, a shit eating grin on his lips — more euphoric than sarcastic.

“Well, who’s fault is that?” and you’re pouting, brow furrowed.

“The same guy’s bright idea it was to fuck in the middle of a fucking heatwave,” and he props himself up, the sheets nearly glued to him as he took in the damage, mussed and ruined with the mess of cum, sweat, and spit all over, “you’re buying me new sheets,” and he chuckles, leaning over to peck your lips.

“I’ll buy you a new bed if you ever let me do that again,” and you shake your head, eyes fluttering open and then closed, as he nosed as the column of your neck, completely fascinated with the way your skin was glowing still after all of that, “you just gonna doze off after all of that? Such a nasty girl, we gotta clean up after all that, don’t we?”

“Don’t wanna get up,” and he chuckles, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head, but the touch seems to make you whine, “fuck, but its so hot,”

“And yet I didn’t hear you complaining when I was fucking you,” he tilts your chin up, glazed over eyes fluttering open to meet his, and how was it that your gaze alone was enough to want him to pin you down and fuck you all over again? “Told ya it was a good idea to fuck the heat away,”

“Except when it ends up like this,” and he sighs, the creak of the mattress underneath, as he gets to his feet, “what are you—ah!” he’s lifted you into his arms, sweat soaked bodies sticking together nearly as he carries you through the living room, making a small pit stop to grab two ice cold water bottles, sounds of the TV still floating through the apartment, towards your shower.

“Who said this heatwave was over yet?”

A weather report was playing, a snippet Satoru caught before he shut the door. Reports say the heatwave is going to continue for the rest of the week. Residents are advised to stay inside until things finally cool down!

“You hear that, sweetheart?” as he sets you down, turning on the water of the shower, letting the cold water soak you both, as he loomed over you, pinning you against the shower wall, “guess it’s just you and me for a week,” and he opens the water bottle, taking a sip before pressing his lips to yours, forcing you swallow the water, tongue seeking after it.

His fingers rest below your chin, as his lips ghost over the curve of your jaw and the slope of your neck, before his teeth graze the hollow of your throat, as his fingers sneak down to tease at your aching cunt, sinking in to stuff his cum dripping down your thighs back inside, “lucky I know just how to keep you cool, right?”

✧ a/n: its been super hot here where i live and i'm dying so i want gojo to come fuck the heat away.

✧ taglist: @mysticaltigersorceress, @kentocalls, @biblioth-que, @dreamtardisspace, @augustwinesworld, @totallytatum, @hanxyy, @sxnkuna, @spindyl, @rosiesroseas, @kxouri, @elisaj313-blog, @theelegantpotato, @peppertoastuniverse, @alwaysfreakingout, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @pompompurin-rambles, @catsgomurp, @admirxation, @ninikrumbs, @equanimoushuman, @mysticaltigersorceress, @eightantseatingapplesss, @notgoodforlife, @satowooo, @gojo-gets-me-wetter, @ivypinsss, @fayyyrieee, @hcn-eyes, @designerpvssy, @mua-for-now, @sukunabish, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @suguwife, @forest-fruits-jam, @pinkyvomit, @ranatherealestsigma, @gojosbrat, @megumibrainrot, @pxppygirl

#sab [mlist]#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen

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neo-percs · 11 months

Text

CAR SEX:: ( day 16 )

WARNING:: Street racer! sunghoon, street racer, fem!Reader, praise, hair pulling, fingering, finger sucking,dirty talking, dacryphilia, riding.

SUMMARY:: after winning tonight's street race it was unethical for police to chase after the rowdy crowds, Sunghoon doesn't expect for his opponent to cover for his ass.

WORDCOUNT:: 4.3K

A/N:: repost from my old account.

Engines were revving on the black asphalt, rap music playing throughout different car speakers and the bright-colored headlights flashed down on the women wearing short, revealing, yet stylish outfits, and men who wore baggy clothes, snapbacks, and most up-to-date shoes.

Your car was parked at the starting line as you finish waiting for the next racer to pull up. The sound of a deep rumbling engine made you turn your head. A bright green car with green LED lights under it, the painted dragon.

The windows were not tinted yet it was hard to see who was in the driver's seat. People clearing the path for the car to easily make it through and reach the red spray-painted finish line.

Once the car pulls into the space next to you behind the sloppy drawn red line the driver's door is pushed open, and you could see a pair of shoes pop out and then ahead from behind the door. Standing at his full height you could see a blonde tall boy, with messy hair, with an intimidating face. He was wearing baggy black cargo jeans, a tank top matching showing off his buff arms, and a small silver chain on his neck.

You turn to look at the man who was running the racing stipulation for the night. You sat on the hood of your car not daring to turn your head. "Tonight you're racing, for 10,000 dollars. At the end whoever makes it from here and around the corner and back to this red line wins. Now I got a good surprise at the end so be ready" the man spoke, he had an Afro with a comb sticking out on the side.

You nod your head "so we're all putting down 2,000?" One of the other men said sitting on his golden hood "yeah, and if you can't give that much you ain't racing" the man said, holding his hand out. You pull a small stack of money out of your butt pocket and push yourself off the hood of the car. Walking up to the man hand off the cash.

As you turned around you met with the buff chest of the blonde man, stopping in your tracks you could see him tower over you. His brown eyes look at yours as he lifts his arm to hand off the cash. "Enough heart eyes get in your cars," the man said, making you smile and shake your head pushing the blonde by his shoulder to walk past him.

You walk to the driver's side door feeling the eyes of the sunghoon burn through your figure as you open the door and rest and hand on the hood as you lean down to sit against the furry seat cover. You lift your legs, let them rest on the car floor and shut the door.

You push your keys into the ignition and your engine rev. The crowd jumped a bit seeing a flame spill from the exhaust pipe. The man with the Afro began waving the crowd to back up. "That's right back yall asses up before you get grilled" he shouted seeing the men and women move away from the street and onto the curb and wide walk.

The other men that were also competing in the race began to get inside their cars and rev their engines. A woman in a crop top and some baggy jeans that rested on her hips walked in front of the cars. "First one here and around the block back wins," she said loudly over the engines "ready?!" She asked with a smile growing on her plump red lips. She flipped her black curly hair over her shoulder raising her arm. The cheers of the crowd got louder as the revving became louder.

"Go!" She shouted, dropping her arm. You press your foot on the gas, shifting your gear into the sport and watching how the speedometer moves. The small arrows on your indicator shoot from 10 to 80 as your gear shifts, the wind pushes pressure into the air as you speed up, and although cars were shooting past you, you were in no rush.

"Just wait" you mumble pushing the gas harder going from 80 to 110 speeding past silver and blue glowing cars decorated with LED's and stickers, you switch lanes making the car behind you try to speed up and unconventionally bump the back of your bumper.

You growl looking into your mirror seeing the blonde with a small smirk on his plump lip, the look on his face drives you to speed up to 200, smoke coming from your tires from how hard your tires rubbed against the gravel on the road.

your eyes flicker back onto the road ahead of you as you go onto an empty road one of your hands leaves the wheel to press the button on the radio and turn up the volume. The rap music puts you back into your racing headspace. The bass was vibrating your whole car.

Seeing the other cars go speed up closer to you and sunghoon made you narrow your eyes through the mirror. Meanwhile, sunghoon sat idly in his car shoe pressed against the gas hard as sweat began to slowly Pearl on his forehead.

The empty streets make it easier as you speed through your engine waking up the neighborhood. As soon as you turn the corner you see a bridge which was a straight shot to the finish line.

"Woah,'' Sunghoon says at your sharp turn speeding down the back streets, nearing the familiar crowd, your car drifting and leaving skid marks on the dirt and asphalt making one more sharp turn and drifting before seeing the crowds that were forming at the finish line.

You hear another engine rumble behind you, your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and you felt dizzy. You see the green color of sunghoon's car in the corner of your eye which makes you scoff.

Just as you had officially left the speed from the 100s to the 200s as you rolled your eyes as you saw him wave with an easy grin. You both speed side by side, looking onto the road trying to steer as the cool leather wheel gripped with your sweating palms.

You stepped on the gas as hard as you could and once you had made it closer to the bridge you could see it lifting on both sides opening a bit down the middle. You slow down whispering to yourself "this is bullshit" but when you saw the green car speed past you and fly over the bridge's gap you realized the race was still on.

You press the gas hard in hopes that even taking this jump you would win in the end. Once you feel how light your car is speeding over the gap between the bridge you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you scream.

Your car jerks as your tires hit the ground, your front bumper hitting the road and falling off with a 'clunking' sound, you groaned. Pressing the gas and shifting gears your car began to catch the wind of sunghoon.

But once your cars were close enough to the finish line you could see how sunghoon pressed harder on the gas passing you making you feel your face heat up in anger seeing as his two front tires touch the red line before yours.

"Shit" you curse under your breath passing the red line with a bitter mood. Stopping a few feet behind him seeing how he stepped out of the car to be crowded by people cheering him on. Pulling your keys out of the ignition you get out of the car walking in front of it to see how bad your front bumper looks.

"That's gonna cost a pretty penny, right?" You hear coming close behind you with the sound of shoes pattering on the concrete. "I fix my cars so no, not really," you say snarking, turning to look at sunghoon who stood over you holding out your money.

You snatch it out of his hand "I didn't need it back but I'll take it" you say with a grin as you stuff the folded money into your pocket. "You're welcome," he says, cocking his head to the side. You were about to respond but the sound of police sirens made your eyes widen.

You look at the blonde male "we gotta go now or they're gonna bust our asses" you say grabbing his wrist and pushing him to the passenger side of your car. "What about my car?" He asked worriedly, opening the door and tossing himself into the seat shaking the car.

" Your keys are still in there, someone's gonna take care of it, don't worry I'll figure out who," you say opening your side of the door and tossing yourself into the seat and the both of you slamming your doors shut.

Twisting your key that was still in the ignition you shift in reverse backing out the crowd and shifting gears into driving your foot stomps on the gas in hopes that no police car follows. And unfortunately for you, a cop had managed to follow you halfway around the city.

You had made it onto the highway, and because it was so late in the night there were barely any cars. But fortunately for you and the buff man in the seat next to you, once you had switched lanes in front of a semi-truck the police had lost sight of you which gave you the chance to take the interstate closest to your left and turn on a dense road.

Once you had been set back on an empty road with nothing but empty grocery store parking lots you had decided it would be best to cool off and stay there for a while until the cops stop searching the area.

Once you found a parking space closest to the middle of the lot you had to turn the car off and shut off the headlights. The lights of the storefront logo emit deep shades of red and blue. Your back was pressed to the seat as your head pulled back with exhaustion.

Your head drops to the side of your shoulder as you look over at sunghoon with curious eyes. When he felt your eyes burning into him he couldn't help but meet your gaze "what? Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a smile plaguing his lips as his eyes narrowed.

"Nothing, you just- seem so calm for a guy who just won 10,000 dollars and went on a police chase with some random girl" is all you say shrugging your shoulders and hearing the fabric of your shirt rub against the fur-covered seat. "Well you keep looking at me like that and see where it gets you," he says as he shifts around in his seat.

"And where will that get me?" You ask, leaning onto the middle console and staring at his side profile with low eyes."You think you're funny?" He asks, arching his brow at you. Biting your lip to hide your smirk "the funniest" you rasp as you let him see the smile settled on your plump lips. "Yeah?" He asks leaning in closer "definitely" you answer back. "God damnit" he whispered, turning to lean over the console as well cupping your jaw and pulling you into a rough kiss.

Your teeth clash as you leave open mouths kissed against each other, his lips were soft and warm. your hand moves from gripping the seat cover to running through his blonde locks. Your eyes fluttered shut as well as his making you tug on his tresses earning you a small groan.

Your lips trace each other to the point you wouldn't break from the kiss until your lungs screamed for air making you pull away. Sunghoon didn't care to catch his breath, he began leaving kisses down your neck sucking small red spots that would soon swell over into bruises in all kinds of shades from purple, blue, and red.

His hand that once touched your jaw was now clutched on your waist. He was high off just the sound of the small moans and little puffs of air you let out of your mouth while he continued to lick and suck harshly against your neck. "Fuck, you're so cute" he whispered looking up at you with soft brown eyes and his pupils blown in adoration.

he can't help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek. Pulling it away with a soft pop a small groan leaves his lips as he lets his mind wander.

The hold you had on him was tight and you didn't even know it, it was like you were a love-sick Anaconda and with that, your grip on him had become almost deadly. He felt like he was choking up his words because his mind was too clouded by the feeling of your skin on his.

His hand's grip on your thigh wanting to pull you in his lap, your knee knocking against the console as you shudder at the feeling on his teeth, and plump lips dragging against your skin that he had marked as his for the night. "Sit in my lap" he mumbled in hopes of wanting to fulfill whatever raunchy fantasy you had been living at the moment.

Pulling back you see the small grin on his lips from how disheveled you had looked. Your chest was rising and falling in an uneven battle of tug of war with your lungs. You sit up on your knees trying your best to climb over the console that had been in the way.

You had let yourself straddle over his thighs that took up a portion of the seat- yet it wasn't like you were complaining. The pad of his thumbs found their way under your shirt and rubbed gentle circles on your bare hip as he continued his assault on your neck as if he was a painter letting the hickeys become his paint and your neck and chest were the blank canvas he needed to douse in color.

His palms pushed into your hips as he trails small pecks up your neck and jaw, you felt like you were in a state of euphoria the way your eyes soften looking into his gaze. Your mind was in such a haze you hadn't realized the both of you were mindlessly grinding against each other.

No matter the tight space you had yet to let that affect you. Your noses brush against each other and you could feel sunghoon's breath on your face, your hand finds its way to his hair pulling him in by the back of his head until your lips trace his. The sound of heavy breathing and clothing rustling around in the passenger seat of the car was the only thing that could be heard.

Your hips began to slowly begin to move as your ass pushed down on the bulge poking his pants "feels so good" he mumbled against your lips as he let out a small moan. His hands grip the back of your thighs as he puffs out shaky breaths. "Can you lift your skirt for me?" He asked nicely, you could only comply. Your stomach churned hearing the way he asked.

You murmur out a small 'yes' as your hand gets a grip on the hem line bunching it over your hips and you slide your shoes off as well as your panties. sunghoon's eyes connect to your pussy that was aching and covered in slicked-up arousal. "All this from kissing? damn," he groaned to himself.

You press yourself down on him, feeling the fabric of his pants against your throbbing core makes you whimper. "Open your mouth," he says, this time it wasn't so polite. Your jaw slacks a bit and you stick out your warm tongue seeing how his eyes darken and almost made you moan.

Bringing his hand up to your face his middle and ring finger pressed against your tongue making you close your mouth a suck. sunghoon could feel your tongue swirl around his fingers while the both of you make direct eye contact. He felt like he could flush under your gaze and melt from the view of your face alone.

You moan against his fingers as you continue to jut your hips and feel pleasure jolt through your body sending shivers down sunghoon's spine. Pulling his thick fingers past your lips. You lift your hips seeing how his hand gets lost between your plush thighs.

Rubbing the pads of his fingers against your entrance that was already soaking, teasing your slit feeling you clench around nothing alone just from friction made sunghoon throb in his boxers. he moaned into you before easing his finger passed your entrance. the added stimulation had you mewling.

You hiss at the stretch as sunghoon adjusted himself in the seat and reached his opposite hand between to push the seat back enough to have him leaning back and watching the perfect view of you perched in his lap.

"I didn't think you were the type to let people you meet in the same night fuck you," he said as he let his finger slip deeper inside your clenching walls. "I guess you're just lucky" you moaned, feeling him pump in and out of your sopping pussy with an all too loud squelching sound.

Your hand grabs needly at his shirt hoping for more pleasure. "More- please" you whimper as your hips twitch with pleasure. I mean who was he to oppose the idea of getting you off? He did as asked pushing his other finger at your entrance hoping you would loosen even just a bit "why are you so fucking tight?" he moaned as he feels you practically suck in his fingers. He pushes them deep enough to touch his knuckles, your slick created small strings against his fingers each time he'd stuff you full of his fingers.

It felt just so right— the way the cold metal of his rings pushed against your slit as he sped up his pace. Your sticky walls could feel every last part of his thick fingers that could make you quiver "fuck- fuck" you moaned as your fingers bunch up the fabric of his shirt.

the beginning of your orgasm begins to build deep in your stomach. "your fingers... feel so good, fuck," you moan. He smiles at you, beginning to curl his fingers instead. "fuck!" you gasp. "Keep doing that, oh god," you moan, gripping his sheets as you try rolling your hips. He smirks at you, moving them slightly faster.

You could feel yourself coming closer to the painstaking orgasm and all you could do was moan and let your eyes pinch closed. "Open your eyes, I wanna see the look on your face when you cum" he says as his fingers repeatedly pound into the spot that made your legs shake and your back arch.

"I'm gonna cum! please let me cum" you whimper as your hands shake. You had opened your eyes to be met with the view of sunghoon and his blonde hair sticking to his forehead with a sheen of sweat on his body, he only nodded his head and let out a small 'mhm' giving you the green light. You felt the pleasure spillover as you cum "oh my god" you moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your release drips down his fingers and palm as you grind against his fingers. Slowly you inch away from his fingers as small thin white strings of slick cum keep the both of you connected.

Your breathing was slightly off-putting the way you felt him pull his fingers out of your silky walls slowly making you feel empty. You felt dizzy just off of that. But you knew there was more to come when sunghoon began to fiddle with the button and zipper on his jeans.

His happy trail that touched his naval down to the base of his dick became prominent as his fingers dug to pull down his briefs as well as his pants letting them fall to his knees and his dick breathing freely in the warm air of the car.

The windows began to fog over as the red and blue hues from the market front shop sign had become even brighter on your skin.

He was hard, and his tip shined with precum at his soft blushed head, his slit leaking with arousal. The sight alone made you rub your thighs together as that incessant warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger.

you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his dick into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb. His hips buck as he let out a small wince at the sudden contact on his shaft.

You arch your back as you push his tip against your slit rubbing it against your clit that had been covered in a mix of your release and arousal. You push his tip in feeling how your ridged walls clenched from just his tip.

sunghoon tossed his head back against the seat hearing a small 'thump' in return. His jaw was clenched tightly making his jaw look narrow and sharp. "Fuck" he groaned loudly letting his hands grip at your ass as you ease down his shaft until your ass pressed against his pelvic bone.

You felt like you were stuffed, sunghoon sat up until your chests touched. He slowly began guiding your hips to bounce repeatedly at a set pace. The way you sink into him was addictive. Your hands move back to grip at his hair, you tug and pull with each bounce.

"You feel so good" you whisper into his ear, sunghoon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head from just hearing you talk dirty. He began to thrust into you setting a faster pace. You moan at the feeling of his thick shaft rubbing against your silky walls and his tip practically kissing your cervix.

His nails began to dig into the fat off your ass as he continued to let you bounce in his lap, the sound of your moans and the creaking of the car was all sunghoon's ears could pick up on with his foggy and fucked out mind.

He was drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his cock like this and it felt amazing. You whispered heavy 'please' for him to go harder as you rut yourself against his base.

A small ring of white began to drip from his base as his thighs hit yours as he continued to pound into you harder. You feel hazy as you moan your hand slides against the window leaving a slippery print.

You clenching down on down on sunghoon kept his mind set on doing one thing, and that was making you cum all over him. Your hair bounced with every hard thrust he delivered to you sweetly. His hand found its way to your hair gripping at your tresses making your eyes water at the pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, you look so damn good when you cry" he choked out along with a whimper as his tip practically bullied at your cervix. The twist in your stomach made you realize that you were close "I'm so close!" You had moaned feeling your walls spasm around him sunghoon began to thrust into you faster as he felt that same feeling bubbling up inside of him.

From any onlooker, the way he pounded into you could make it seem like a pornstar was just doing child's play. He couldn't help but let out a string of curses and moans "fuck, fuck" he groaned feeling how you squeezed down on him letting your orgasm wash over you.

The sweet moan you let out pushed him over the edge as he let his cum paint you white on the inside. He could feel you throbbing and his cum spilling past your walls. He couldn't help but thrust deeper into you fucking his cum deeper inside you.

Your hips are shaking with overstimulation. You couldn't even put together a coherent sentence. You just let him fuck you dumb. Your whimpers fall on deaf ears as he lets you rest against his chest.

"it's okay, just take your time" he whispered into your ears kissing your temple repeatedly as you let your eyes heavily fall closed. His lips turn into a smile as he feels nothing but a haze wash over him. Leaning into him your nose brushing over his and your lips pressing small pecks to his, your hand on his jaw.

He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips.

"You wanna lend me some cash to fix my car?" You huff jokingly, "I just won 10,000 dollars, I think I can spare you some" he laughs breathily. God he felt like he was in heaven.

#𖦹—( neo percs )#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts

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