Tìyawn

You and Kirara sat across from each other on the couch, dumping out your Sephora bags and chattering away as you did your makeup hauls. Currently she was showing off an eyeshadow palette she bought. It included a range of pinks, browns and glitter that she seemed excited to try.

"They're all just so pretty, I don't know which I want to try first! Anyways, what did you get?"

A mischievous smirk spread across your face as you held up a certain tube of lip gloss for her to see. She raised an eyebrow at your expression before leaning in to read what was on the tube out loud.

"Instant Lip Plumping Gloss?"

You nod enthusiastically at her, a devious chuckle escaping you as you explained your evil plan.

"Y'know how glosses like these tingle, right? Well I thought what if when Kinji got back we ambush him with kisses, but both of us are wearing this!"

Her face lit up with mischief to match yours before enthusiastically agreeing.

"Baby, you're a genius!"

When Hakari returned he opened the door to the two of you giggling as you did each other's makeup. Kirara held your chin up as she applied the lip gloss you had bought to your lips, already wearing it after you had put it on her earlier. Your attention turned towards the door at the sound of it clicking closed, spotting your boyfriend approaching the two of you on the couch. Kirara shoots you a knowing smirk before greeting him, shuffling away to make space between the two of you.

"Welcome back, Kin!"

He sat down with a hum, throwing his arms over the sides of the couch as you and Kirara put your plan into action.

"How're my girls doing?"

The two of you closed in on him, leaning against his sides. Your girlfriend traced a line up the front of Hakari's neck while you caressed his chest.

"We're fine. Just got back from shopping," you answer before making the first move. You leaned over to plant a kiss atop of his cheek, before moving down and pressing them across his neck and collarbone. Kirara was quick to follow your lead. Hakari basked in your guys' attention, eyes closing as he relaxed deeper into the couch. Moments later the skin that was stained pink from your kisses started tingling.

He opened his eyes, though still narrowed, as he looked between you and Kirara. She was doing a better job at playing innocent while you, not so much. Hakari noticed the corner of your lips twitch up into a smirk almost instantly.

"What did you do?"

"Kiss you," you respond, acting smart while you pressed another kiss into is cheek. He shifted to be facing you entirely, Kirara adjusting her own position to now be leaning against his back with her chin resting atop his shoulder. Hakari grips your face with one hand before pulling you in to kiss you on the lips. Just as he suspected, the tingling sensation started up again.

"Why does it burn," he questions with furrowed brows, causing Kirara to giggle. He glances over at her atop his shoulder. "You're in on this too."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she fibs, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Maybe it's just passion," you say in response to his question before glancing over at your partner in crime. "Right, Rara?"

She nods in agreement, leaning over Hakari's shoulder to give you a kiss.

"Passion? Sure," your boyfriend scoffs before sitting back into the position he was in earlier, this time wrapping an arm around each of your waists and pulling both of you to be sitting half way on his lap. "Whatever it is, though, I like it."

otaku!gojo, who is just happy a girl (that isn’t shoko) likes this toned-down version of him enough to be his friend. 

so now suguru’s only hope is you’ll be the one to figure it out and finally fuck his loser bestie—freeing him from this hellish third-wheel purgatory.

of course, it’s partly suguru’s own fault gojo is stuck in the liminal hell of ‘friend zoned’. he’s the one who warned gojo that if he really wanted to be your friend, he’d need to rein in his  depravity—explaining that just because you’re a pretty girl into anime—maybe even enough to be an otaku yourself, doesn’t mean you want to be treated like a walking trope with tits.

that’s the primary reason he doesn’t have girls who are friends now (besides shoko). 

otaku!gojo who nearly had a panic attack over the epiphany that he was the problem he couldn’t get girls. desperately begging suguru to write down a complete list of things he could and couldn’t say that he could use as a reference. suguru shot that idea down fast—realizing giving satoru a guide to normalcy would be longer than a set of encyclopedias—and reluctantly promised instead to stick around when the two of you hung out and keep gojo from blowing things with you.

that was three months ago though. 

otaku!gojo who—despite a few nearly catastrophic slip-ups—hasn’t scared you off…yet. suguru thinks, maybe you’re someone who could actually handle the real him unfiltered.

hell, you might even fuck him.

someone needed to make a move, anyway. yeah, satoru is his best friend, but this whole thing is seriously cramping suguru’s style. not like he could double-date either, y’all nerds would cuck him for sure.

suguru trails behind the two of you now, resisting the urge to rub his face in exasperation as you both bicker loudly—turning heads even in the noisy quad. he slows his pace bit by bit, quietly testing if gojo will notice him missing if he completely dips out.

thankfully, suguru’s salvation comes in the form of toji and sukuna, his frat brothers, smirking like predators in-wait at a table just off the path. they never miss a chance to mess with gojo—and lately, that’s meant catcalling you just to see if it’ll finally make him snap and grow a pair. 

otaku!gojo who is too deep in another heated debate with you to notice them—that is until toji lets out a low, wolfish whistle.

“not much skirt for all that leg you got, nerd,” sukuna mutters with a smirk as you bristle, stopping in your tracks.

“yeah, it’s chilly out today too, ain’t that right kuna?” toji adds, thighs manspread, patting one in invitation. “if you’re cold, we’ll warm you right up, baby.”

the both of them chuckle as you puff your cheeks in indignation. with a huff, you turn back to gojo as choosing to ignore the two football jocks completely would be the most damaging to their trumped-up egos. you weren’t even sure why someone as nice as satoru is even friends with them anyway.

you blink, realizing gojo’s not next to you any longer. just now catching that suguru’s fallen behind, suguru gives gojo a quick wave and a look that clearly says: go. please.

you frown, annoyed at gojo’s adhd attention span that always seems to be hyperaware of suguru. 

you’ve recently started picking up on suguru’s restlessness—but you think it's because you were tagging along too much. not that he wanted to leave. especially since gojo always seemed to like having him around. you just didn’t have the balls yet to say you wanted him all to yourself too.

a small, ridiculous voice in the back of your head even wonders if maybe gojo’s in love with suguru and hasn’t realized it yet and you are the one who is the third wheel.

“satoru!” you snap, elbowing him in the ribs and grabbing his arm. “i wasn’t done making my point.”

otaku!gojo who jolts at the sharp sensation, his eyes darting to where your hand clings to his sleeve… then past you, catching the smug grins on toji and sukuna’s faces. they’d said something to you again that he didn’t catch. probably hitting on you again. 

and why wouldn’t they? you’re hot. smart. actually like the same nerd shit he does, but you don’t look like a loser, not like him anyway.

they probably think they’re being funny. maybe they are. he just wishes it didn’t always make him feel like he’s already lost.

gojo blinks, trying to play off his insecurities as your pout deepens. you wrap your fingers fully around his arm now, grabbing onto him like it’s no big deal.

it is—it’s the longest a girl has ever willingly touched him. 

he, however, is not unbothered as you seem to be. his ribs still sting a bit where you poked him and his heartbeat’s beats faster the longer your fingers linger.

“ah—! sorry, sorry,” gojo blurts out a little too loud and a little too quickly, “go on. i’m listening.”

your smile beams in victory as soon as you have his attention again and you’ve yet to let go. you might just have to wrangle him like this more often. “ahem… as i was sayingggg, arukenimon is totally based on the greek myth of arachne, mother of spiders.” you push up your glasses. “soooo… as mother aka queen of spiders, while being femme fatale in her human form—she’d most definitely gives black widow vibes if she was a real spider, toru!” 

your enthusiasm is infectious. gojo immediately perks up. nobody else debates this stuff with him like you do. his nerves start to settle as his usual otaku-fueled confidence kicks back in.

“that's a cute headcannon, bunbun. but arachne actually spun webs. arukenimon doesn’t, her mist is more akin to laying traps. she hunts on foot. she’s basically a woodlouse spider with a glamour buff.“

you stomp your foot, leaning on gojo fully now.

“but woodlouse spiders aren’t poisonous, you dork! and arukenimon has acid mist!” you narrow your eyes, not realizing how close you've gotten to him—while gojo is trying oh so very hard not to peer down your low cut shirt. “were you even paying attention in entomology today, toru?!”

to be honest? not one bit. 

otaku!gojo, who although he hadn’t heard what sukuna and toji said, he’d definitely noticed your skirt being too short wayyyy before they did. he hadn’t absorbed a word of the lecture on arachnids, too distracted by the way your galaxy-print mini rode up your thick thighs while you sat. the hem of your thigh highs revealed to be hugging your curves so tight they barely seemed to contain them—similar to the slutty school girls in his h-doujins.

but the real crisis came halfway through class when you conveniently dropped your pen right beneath your chair and asked him to grab it for you. 

gojo gulped hard.

otaku!gojo who had the moral dilemma of his life not turning his head up to you before he was back above waist line to sneak a peak at your panties.

a classic hentai scenario and he totally blew his chances of living out—but he couldn’t risk you never wanting to speak to him again—and there was no time to signal to suguru to keep you distracted long enough for him to get a good peak either. 

“er, um, yeah—you’re right about that,” gojo concedes quickly, eager to change the subject from what had been distracting him. “but the coloring’s still off. if you want a red one that hunts without webs and lures prey… that’s redback spiders. flashy colors. silky traps. total predators.”

you shake your head, a glint of challenge in your eyes. “mm, i see your points but nah. black widow’s still more fitting,” you quip.

“nu-uh!” gojo shoots back and your geeked-out discourse charges full speed ahead once again.

otaku!gojo, who is so caught up in spider talk, doesn’t even notice when suguru finally catches up.

“yo.” suguru gives a nod to toji and sukuna, who are both watching you and gojo like you’re some kind of live-action freakshow. “what’s up?”

suguru drops into the seat beside them. he’d already planned to dodge the walk back to gojo’s dorm—and now he had the perfect excuse seeing toji and sukuna.

sukuna rolls his eyes. “not much. just watching these two try to out-dork each other for gold in the nerd olympics.”

toji snorts, “yeah, have you ever seen two more obvious virgins? kinda funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

you hear it—of course you do. with toji’s loud ass mouth, you’d have to be deaf not to.

but you don’t react. you just stay focused on gojo, pretending you didn’t hear a thing.

thankfully, aside from the slight flush creeping up his neck, gojo seems to ignore them too. or tries to at least. if anyone asked him, it’s the crisp fall air chilling him and not the crushing embarrassment.

“go on with out me—i’ll catch you guys later,” suguru interjects after a few minutes. no one but gojo, who looks dejected, is convinced he actually will. “i gotta catch up with these clowns—frat business and all.”

sukuna and toji share a look. they’d let that ‘clown’ remark slide, this time, seeing as how desperate they knew suguru had been to escape his dork monitoring duties. 

otaku!gojo who can’t even object as you grab his hand and tug him along in the opposite direction—your smaller, softer, fingers now fully intertwined with his own hands. 

the action successfully short-circuits his entire brain so gojo follows your lead without resistance. without even a word actually—barely registering toji and sukuna howling after him about “finally making it to second base for dweebs.” no, he’s far too focused on keeping his breathing steady, praying his hand doesn’t get sweatier to realize: oh god—you’re coming back to his dorm. alone.

otaku!gojo , who is a bundle of nerves, even more than usual once you both enter his room. it isn’t the first time you’ve been in his dorm but it is the first time you’ve been in his room without suguru chaperoning.

thankfully, not only does gojo have a single-room to himself, the dorm has thoroughly been “pussy-proofed” it, as suguru called it weeks ago. hiding his more lewd and unsavory hentai merch, doujins and onnaholes in the back of his closet so he doesn’t scare you off. 

However what gojo is really concerned about right now is his big fat mouth. 

he barely can contain himself when he has the adhd compulsive urge to say something or his brain randomly makes the connection to something in anime he thinks is insightful—even if more than not that insightful comment ends up being particularly debauched or ecchi coded. 

even if gojo isn’t saying it in particularly a perverted way, suguru still told him it was a huge no-no. suguru always recognizes better than he does when he’s heading down the path to cucking himself so he’s always been there to stop him, until now that is. 

you suggest a movie but gojo quickly suggests you both play digimon cards as a way to settle your earlier argument for good. he also realizes it's safer to stay in neutral territory of a digimon battle—he couldn’t slip and say anything too crazy if he solely focuses on the game and nothing else. 

you agree but instead of taking a seat at the small table you always play at, you sit on his bed for the first-time making yourself comfy as you take off your jacket and untie your boots.

otaku!gojo who nearly drops dead on the spot. eyes wide, he turns away fast, muttering something about grabbing sodas from his mini-fridge. anything to not explode from the casual, completely normal and boringly platonic—but somehow still wildly overstimulating sight—of a pretty girl undressing to any small degree on his bed.

soon returning with two bottles of mountain dew, you and gojo start playing digimon cards, the room settling into an awkward silence—broken only by the occasional callout for card plays.

gojo being quiet is unusual, and since the only thing that’s changed is suguru not being here, you assume that’s why. maybe he misses him.

so you go quiet too.

you focus harder on the game—trying to beat him even harder than usual.

you hate that you’re jealous—but you can’t help it. gojo’s eyes always flick to suguru like muscle memory, like instinct. as you reconcile just how hard you are crushing on the otaku it makes you wonder if you’ve been orbiting a star that could never be yours to begin with.

and gojo?

his brain is spinning. trying to figure out why you seem so upset right now and how to fix it. 

was it something he did? or something he didn’t do? maybe it was the comment toji and sukuna made. they had been teasing you even more lately and maybe you’re mad they lumped you in with him.

otaku!gojo who gets stuck on that thought.

he is he obvious virgin—not you. it wasn’t fair of them to say that about you and things had been a bit awkward since then, especially now that suguru wasn’t here as a buffer.

“…uh, i, um…” gojo starts, voice cracking. “sorry toji and sukuna called you a virgin, bun. it’s not fair of them to assume a girl like you would be…”

your head snaps up, mid-play, right before you are about to cinch your victory, too focused on the game and proving you’re better than suguru by beating gojo—something suguru could never do when gojo did force him to play.

“excuse me?!”

a girl like you…did gojo—did he just call you a slut!?

but when you look up, he’s pink-cheeked, sheepish, and unknowingly bending the hell out of an extremely rare holographic card in his hand.

“i mean—i mean a hot girl like you… you’re not a loser or a dork like me. i’m sure you’ve had chances to—if you wanted to that is! i just—uh—that’s how they always joke with me and you just happened to be there and they know how much i like hanging out with you so they lumped you in… and uh, you’re my only girl friend.. ack! uh, i mean well girl who is a friend…well, besides shoko, but she doesn’t count—"

otaku!gojo who is rambling now. he refuses to make eye contact with you but the one eyed-bandit in his pants is practically jumping out of his sweats to stare you down. annnnd gojo’s hard. of course he is. 

the idiot practically combusts at the thought of sex. something you know his ecchi coded brain thought of often, too often. 

you’ve known for a while. i mean he was an otaku after all, you were well aware. the missing spaces with light dust rings on his awkwardly filled shelves. the suspiciously placed laundry pile in his closet. 

you’d found the hentai stash of dvds and doujins the day your lip gloss rolled under his bed.

you’d known. you’d just pretended not to, especially when suguru was around—because gojo didn’t need to be more embarrassed than he already was. especially if he was trying to not look like a loser with all his tentacle porn in front of…oh!

the realization hits you as you realize how it was suguru who tried to stop you from grabbing the lip gloss that day as gojo was already out of the room, having went to the bathroom. 

he’s also interjected to keep you from connecting the dots to gojo’s hentai references…references that of course as a hentai watcher yourself you’ve of course picked up on but the subject was always changed before—

oh snap—so that’s it. 

suguru wasn’t guarding you from gojo—he was guarding gojo from himself. not a love triangle. just two socially inept idiots and a very tired babysitter making sure gojo didn’t scare you away.

Loser—did he not know you were just as big a freak as him yet!?

you stare at him. one second. two. three. he’s still panicking, pupils shaking behind those foggy glasses—about to cry, maybe. you smile wider as you watch gojo continue to fumble around his words, now confused thinking you were laughing at him.

i mean you are, but to be fair, you’re a virgin too. and that loser status? that’s fine. you’ve made peace with it. you didn’t care to impress anyone, especially the likes of toji and sukuna.

but the virgin part? that’s something you can do something about—the both of you together.

you place your cards down gently and reach over the bed grabbing his hand before he tears off the corner of that rare card completely.

“it’s okay, toru…” you say softly, cutting off his spiral as he now looks all nervous, hopeful and stupidly sweet. “…i’m actually a virgin too. but—i mean. we don’t have to be.”

otaku!gojo who very nearly has a brain aneurysm before he recovers enough for the two of you to end up here—with you on your back splayed out on gojo’s digimon bedsheets, the both of you clumsily fumbling through the initial steps of sex like two newborn calves trying to stand for the first time.

in missionary, his pathetically shaky arms frame your face, elbows locked like he’s bracing for a natural disaster. and honestly, the rhythm of his hips might qualify as one—chaotic, unpredictable, and dangerous.

the second he finds a particularly rough speed and really starts drilling into you with his very much long-n- thick-not-so-dorky cock—he panics and freezes, sucking in a sharp breath and slowing to an agonizing crawl before he can cum too fast.

and when gojo slows after his frenzy, you feel everything. in excruciatingly intense detail. the drag of him along your walls. the way the veins on his cock pulse against your g-spot frantic and desperate as his heartbeat out of his chest. 

it doesn’t help either that he keeps stopping entirely to check on you through his slobbering drools and broken moans— 

“are you okay?”

“am i doing okay?”

“like how my cock feels, is my drill piercing your heavens my ecchi angel?”

otaku!gojo who is trying so hard it’s both painfully cringe and devastatingly cute. you’d laugh in his face if you weren’t losing your mind on his dick. trying to keep your moans down in order not to alert the RA on the floor. 

“yes—ah,fuck—yesss…j-just…ah-hahhh—m’b-breathe toru!” you gasp, mimicking deep inhales and exhales as an example, to remind him to take breaths as he was beginning to turn blue in the face from exertion.  

he should be the one talking you through this of course, but you have to do that job for the both of you as you also try to keep your shit together. but him stopping and slowing his thrusts so erratically before picking up the pace again is unintentionally edging the everloving fuck out of you. 

you’re so wound up it’s insane. even the warm puffs of his breath against your skin—paired with his not-so-subtle muttering of “ora, ora, ora” under his breath to pace himself—send goosebumps racing across your body, every nerve lit up as sparks flare down your spine.

otaku!gojo who is under astronomical pressure, finally getting a taste of pussy, for a guy who got so flustered when you held his hand earlier.

the imaginary chorus in gojo’s head continuously taunting—

sukuna: don’t be a cuck, rich boy, fuck her right. toji: i’mma be shocked if ya last more than three seconds. suguru: look—even if you cum early, just don’t quote anime while inside her toru, for the love of god…

all efforts focused, his jaw is clenched, cheeks flushed all the way to his ears as sweat beads down his temples. gojo is literally fighting for his life and any remaining dignity he had left as a now not-so-cherry-otaku not to bust inside you prematurely. 

he couldn’t. not after pinky-swearing you he wouldn’t cum inside. not like he owned condoms, you also weren’t on birth control and neither of you losers had the foresight to think you’d actually need them.

but honestly? you love him for trying so hard. he’s your otaku loser now.

in the future, you’ll whisper filth against his reddened sweat-slicked temple—utterly depraved, super hentai-coded things that’ll make him explode in under ten seconds and you’d make him continue to fuck you through his tears.

like he did earlier when you gave him his first handjob after telling him to “show you his bankai” which then turned into his first blowjob, still twitchy and overly sensitive from spurting all over your fingers, as thick tears fogged up his glasses and rolled down his cheeks.

but tonight? you’ll let him have this one for his own pride’s sake. 

“i’m close, s’toruuu,” you whine heady as you settle for digging your nails into his biceps, half to steady yourself and half because it makes his twisted-lil-wannabe-masochist brain visibly malfunction as the slobber continues to pour down his chin.

his hips stutter. you suppress a giggle, well no, his cock did that for you actually, unnecessarily driving even harder into your womb, threatening to cave your cervix inward by the force of it. shit it feels good though—and you suppose you’re a bit of a masochist too now. 

the clumsy drag of him inside you feels too good for any discomfort to last, and whatever blood there is leaking from your first time only makes your pussy slicker. the schlick, wet and obscene sounds echo in his dorm, squelching between your thrashing limbs and pooling beneath you into the sheets.

gojo whimpers crack as you tighten up around him, he wouldn’t last much longer at this rate.

“gud b-boy,” you murmur, voice slurring, reaching up to thumb drool away from his lips. “dun open your eyes yet tho toru… m’playing my clit, yeah? gonna cum s’gud all over your cock baby.”

otaku!gojo who thinks he’s never been so close to death. your pussy is so sloppy yet so tight—like really tight—and some distant part of his brain remembers suguru once saying something about crazy girls being the tightest. and you drive him insane in multiple ways daily, so it makes sense your deadly angelic ecchi pus—

no. stop. focus.

he might lose to you at digimon more often than he’d like, but he’s not losing at this. Just like a saiyan, even gojo had his pride.

you’re going to cum first.

eyes squeezed shut, gojo concentrates like his life depends on it—because if he opens them and sees the way the bite marks he left on your cute tiddies jiggle with sweat rolling off them or the way your pink manicured fingers move petting your big slutty and engorged clit, he’s done for.

this is the single most important thing gojo’s ever done in his twenty-one years of life.

thankfully, soon after that thought gojo feels you shatter beneath him. your delicious broken moans squeaking out as he feels your mushy core gush around him so hard that causes him to choke. 

dizzy, and finally able to pull out and release, gojo’s entire body locks up as his vision temporarily goes white.

your own eyes have already rolled back into your head so when you hear gojo strangled groans and warm droplets spray your neck, chest and tummy you assume he is able to pull out.

that is... until you feel warmth balloon against your womb and realize he’s still inside you.

wait…what!?

coming down from the high you struggle to open your eyes. yet when you do, it looks like a crime scene as all you see are red droplets all over your body—not to mention the sheets. "oh—oh my god! are you okay, toru!?"

otaku!gojo who slides out of you, sitting up, one hand clamped over his nose, blood pouring through his fingers, eyes glassy with tears as he thinks this might be even worse than prematurely cumming before you. 

he looks dejected and silently prays you aren’t mad enough to never talk to him again, much less fuck him as now that he’s had a taste of your yummy cunny he think he might die without it.

“m’ sworry, b-bunny!” gojo sways a bit looking like he might actually faint.

you wince looking around and grab the giant tissue box on his bedside table, shoving a cluster of them into his hands. 

they all soak instantly.

“...damn toru…” you mutter, surveying the bloodied scene in comparison to the light streaks of red between your thighs, “you bled more than i did…is that even medically possible?!”

gojo goans, plugging his nose and tilting his head back.

you look around nervously, unsure of what to do to help the poor sap who seriously just busted in more ways than one all over you.

“um, you d-do you wanna stick a tampon up there?” you suggest hesitantly, “i carry some emergency light flow ones in my purse, should be able to fit…” 

you carried them so you wouldn’t be caught lacking if your period came a bit off schedule but you never in your wildest dreams expected they might come in handy in this situation too.

“...shut up.” gojo mumbles wanting to crawl beneath his blankets in shame. 

he just might bleed out at this rate, he didn’t realize he’d been tensing, straining so hard he’d popped multiple blood vessels all in an effort to please you. 

yet a dozen tissues later the box is now empty and there’s still blood trickling out.

“how are you getting hard right now?! didn’t realize you still could with all the blood loss.” 

you can’t help but gawk as you tease him, looking around for something better like a towel. 

i–i don’t know,” gojo slurs, dazed. “you look like a blood-drenched vampire goddess right now... like some castlevania final boss... fuck, it’s hot. you’re like—my sexy, unholy queen of darkness. makes me wanna let you drain me again…”

good god. he’s a perverted otaku to the max alright. you giggle. lucky for this freaked out otaku though, that turns you on too and you smirk though as a thought crosses your mind.

“well…,” you say sweetly, slowly swapping positions with him and easing him back against the headboard of the best to rest his head, “if i am a blood sucker, that would make me kind of like a black widow spider too right? i did lay traps for you after all…”

you continue as gojo looks up at you confused in his blood-loss daze. 

“...wore that short skirt just for you today. even dropped my pen to see if that’d make you notice.”

your eyes are half lidded as you lean closer, grabbing his growing length in your hands and giving it a few pumps, noticing the blood in his nose begin to dry more as his cockhardens.

“you know black widows drain their mates from both ends, right?” you grip his cock tighter causing him to squirm and croak beneath you. “and i’ve just accomplished that like a true femme fatal—just like arukenimon, right?”

with a heavy sigh, gojo concedes—too dizzy from blood loss to argue, and way too stunned by the revelation that you wanted him to look at your panties earlier to do anything but nod and obey.

 “…okay,” he wheezes, pre-dribbling out more as you finger the foreskin on his tip. “you’re right. just—another tissue please, bun.”

you lift the empty box and shake it with a smile.

“fresh out. and this is value size too Toru…so tell me…how many did you use on this perverted otaku cock—fapping just thinking about wanting to fuck me, hm?”

otaku!gojo who's eyes widen in realization. oh my god. she’s not just my dream girl—she’s a boss-level ecchi final form waifu.

in the end, you climb onto his lap, cockwarming him with your chin on his shoulder, fingers lazily playing with his undercut while he keeps his head tilted back.

your logic? keeping him hard might redirect the blood flow long enough to stop the nosebleed for good—and maybe train his oversensitive cock not to bust so fast, too. practical and scientific, if you do say so yourself.

gojo’s head rests against the headboard, nose very professionally plugged with your light-flow tampons  he’s mortified—but significantly less so with you straddling him and his cock happily twitching inside of your warm walls, snug as a bug. ultimately, gojo thinks could fall asleep like this he’s so content.

he almost does too—until he hears the click of your phone camera go off.

“Hah—!?”

otaku!gojo who flinches like you just hit him with a kamehameha.

“collateral,” you purr, grip tightening at the back of his neck like a leash. “eyes on me and listen good toru.”

you grind down slow but firm, dragging another desperate whimper out of him—and god, you love how easy it is to ruin him.

“unless you want me to post this pic of ‘heavy flowjo’ to my stories—complete with hashtags—i suggest never, ever questioning my digimon theories again—especially in public in front of your bro-brained frat friends.”

gojo stares down at you, blinking slow, dazed—completely gone. heart-eyes and dumbstruck, because you’re cruel, calculating, and so obscenely perfect for him like the hentai gods made you especially for him.

“…yes,” he breathes out eagerly, “my hentai goddess dive. mommy. queen. ma’am.”

you pat his cheek and rest your head in the crook of his neck dreamy sigh.

“that’s a good boy, toru.”

otaku!gojo who hums under his breath, twitching in your warmth. “um, hey, bunny?”

“yeah?”

“...think i’m in love with you.”

“figured.” you smile against his neck. “me too tho, dork.”