gfd things that give me 🦋🦋🦋

nerdjo and a goth fem reader that probably pegs him (how things should be)

synopsis: like no plot it’s just freak shit but isn’t that what the world needs…… think about that

erm there’s dry humping in this and like heavy petting ? plus like makeouts and stuff

satoru was sitting on the edge of your bed, messing with the sleeves of his sweater and pushing up his glasses every now and then. you looked over at him in the reflection of your mirror and smiled a bit, he had no clue what to do with himself right now. he looked up at you as you dragged black lipstick across your plush lips, face growing red. “toru.” he made a noise. odd. “you wanna say something or just stare at me?” you teased your hair in the mirror, making the back of it fray out in every which way. 

the platinum blonde looked back down at the floor, shaking his head. “it’s fine.” a nervous laugh escaped his lips as he started to pace around the room. he chewed on his nails as you looked back completely this time. 

“someone’s nervous.” you stood up from your vanity chair and stopped him, messing with the fabric of his shirt. “talk to me.” you dragged a sharp fingernail down his exposed neck, making him wince under your touch. 

he honestly enjoyed whatever you did to him, satoru was reactive when it came to you. the blush on his face only grew bigger, spreading to his ears and his exposed chest. you moved to unbutton a button on his shirt, mindlessly messing with his clothes. he didn’t answer until you flicked his forehead, whining. “can we skip the studying today?” his words came out like one, making you laugh. you knew him well enough to think about him practicing that request in his head for hours before you invited him over to your dorm. 

you ran a hand through his soft hair, watching his knees buckle. he almost fell into you, it was endearing how whipped he was for a bit of physical touch. you nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek, completely forgetting about the lipstick on your lips. when you pulled away, you gasped. “sorry, baby.” you reached for a makeup wipe on your vanity table, he stood behind you and looked at the kiss mark in his reflection. when you turned around and tried to wipe it away, he stopped you. 

“do that again.” 

something in his voice changed, lower and a little more demanding. you couldn’t just deny him like that, no matter how fun it’d be. you grabbed his face in one hand, kissing him again, this time on his lips, pushing him back until the back of his legs hit the edge of your bed. almost immediately, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, kissing you with a newfound hunger. he whined against your lips before you pulled away. you laughed to yourself at the amount of lipstick staining his face. he leaned to try and kiss you again, being stopped by your hair as you applied more lipstick. “needy.” this earned another groan from him. your boyfriend was very dramatic. 

you pulled his shirt over his head, staring down at all the skin you could cover in black lipstick kisses. your fingers trailed over his burning skin. he cursed under his breath and reached to push up his glasses again. “more— i need it.” his head fell back as he bucked his hips up against you. 

“like i said before…” you left a kiss on his chest, feeling his heart beat out of his chest. “needy.” 

he made beautiful noises as you left a kiss on every part of him. almost every part. when you finally made it back to his face, he smiled before he pulled you in for another kiss, holding your waist like a lifeline. “i love-“ he kissed you again. “i love kissing you.” another kiss. “so much.” and another. “i know we should be s-studying.” kiss. “i can’t keep my hands off you.” kiss. kiss. “i love you.” kiss. 

you held his face between your hand, squeezing his cheeks. “you’re adorable, toru. i love you too.” he made another noise at the simple manhandling you pulled on him, pressing the tent in his pants into your thigh. “i know, baby.” you whispered in his ear, grinding down into him. a strangled noise came from his throat as you grinded back and forth against him. 

satoru leaned into the crook of your shoulder, biting the skin there and groaning. the books on your bed slipped off the blankets hitting the floor and startling the both of you. you winced at how hard he bit into you then, but he immediately apologized and kissed the spot he bit into. “can i make it up to you?” he pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside. 

“i’d rather you see what you’re doing, toru.” you grabbed his glasses and placed them on his face again, smiling. “and how do you plan on making it up to me, hm?” you leaned in close, lips centimeters away from each other, basically breathing life into each others lungs. this would be more intimate than the kissing and grinding you two were already doing. you were completing each other right now. with each inhale, he exhaled, making you feel whole. and with each exhale, he breathed in like you were his life force. maybe you were. you were nice, something he loved about you. 

but this was satoru, he loved everything about you. 

the grinding got messy. 

the tugging of bright white hair. 

stuttered hip movements. 

long, saliva filled kisses. 

it was basically debauchery. 

you two loved every second of it. 

lipstick was smeared across his face, some of it even got on the tip of his nose. when you pulled away, you could only laugh. maybe it was a laugh, he was pulling noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make. “satoru- shit-“ you moved your hips against the bulge in his sweats, watching his glasses slide down his nose again. he was adorable and it almost made you mad. almost. “-so good.” you kissed his neck over and over. 

your boyfriend on the other hand, was a complete mess. gripping your hips like a vice and making these loud breathy moans in your ear. he found enough composure to laugh, still whining a bit after. “am i- doing good?” he kissed along your jaw, lifting his hips closer between your legs, giving you the stimulation you needed. “please.” he kissed your skin again. “tell me i’m doing good.” he looked up at you with tears in his unnaturally blue eyes, waiting for any type of praise or validation from you. 

you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, grinding your hips in slow circles against him. “very good, toru, i promise.” you tugged on his hair, another thing he loved receiving from you. more kisses were shared between the two of you as his hand trailed down between your legs, accidentally biting your bottom lip. “what’s wrong?” you asked almost patronizingly. you knew exactly why he got startled. 

he pulled away, trying to catch his breath. obviously he failed, the next sentence coming out of him winded. “no panties? you didn’t tell me? seriously?” his fingers were still wandering between your legs. what a pervert. he started to loosen his pants, you quickly stopped him and gave him a certain look. one that made him stop in his tracks, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. “inside? please?” 

you shook your head and held his hands behind his back, kissing his lips. “this is all you get, satoru.” he almost started crying about this, making your hips meet again, your breath hitched at the sudden movement. “make it count. make me cum and i’ll think about it.” you kissed him again, moaning into his mouth at the friction between the two of you. he pulled your hips down, basically fucking you through his sweatpants. the slick sound started to get louder as tears spilled down his cheeks. you looked down for a second, noticing all the pre staining the fabric of his pants. “you’re doing- so fuckin’ good, toru…” your nails dug into his shoulders, breaths getting shorter and shorter. 

he didn’t stop the constant stimulation, kissing your neck hard enough to bruise and trying not to spill into his pants. you pushed up his glasses and breathed into his ear. “so close… keep going.” with this, he held your hips and pinned you to the bed, bulge pushing into you over and over. right now, you were regretting not letting him actually fuck you, but the look on his face made it all worth it. you pulled him in for another kiss, whining into his mouth and tugging his hair even harder. “shit— toru—!” 

“please. pleasepleaseplease.” he kept muttering the plead over and over, applying the perfect amount of pressure and making your hips jerk. 

your hands ran through his hair as you fluttered around nothing, gritting out his name before biting his neck, hard. maybe you drew blood, he didn’t care. all he wanted was you, whatever you had to give him, he took it with a complaint. his movements came to a stop, he covered his mouth as the fabric between you two quickly became soaked. you reached to pull his hand away. “let me hear you.” 

and that’s all it took. your boyfriend was very vocal in bed, something you always enjoyed. he was basically screaming your name in your own ear as he fell apart.

because of you. 

after the two of you calmed down, he pulled you close to his chest and kissed the top of your head. “you’re so good to me.” another kiss. “i love you.” more kisses, you were drowning in them. you were drowning in him. he pushed up his glasses and tried to wipe the smeared makeup from the sides of your lips. “pretty.” 

you blinked up at him and pointed to the small container of makeup wipes on your vanity. he listened even though you didn’t say anything. before he got up, he kissed your forehead. you pulled him back as he held the wipes in his hands, straddling him once again and cleaning off his face. he reached behind him for a pair of your sleep shorts and slowly pulled them on. “perv.” you wiped his chest and flicked his forehead. 

“i’m putting your shorts on, not taking them off.” his ears got red as he carefully fixed the small black bow on the front of the shorts. “opposite of perv.” he tried to kiss your face, but you stopped him. immediate puppy dog eyes. 

you messed with his hair and laughed a bit. “lemme finish cleaning you off. then you get a kiss.” 

Coming to, you open your eyes and find your arms are wrapped around something fluffy like usual but it's not your plush from home. Smells wrong, too. There are sheets and a comforter tangled around you and it takes effort to get yourself free. The textures are wrong. But somehow you still don't feel like you're not at home. A part of you feels like this is all normal. At the edges of your vision, hypnapompic sprites dance and play.

Last night you dreamt of a girl you never learned the name of. She picked you up and carried you away. Her hands touched and explored ever nook and cranny of your body, inside and out. You felt more vulnerable than ever before. Her touch was electricity, and when she opened her mouth you saw worlds inside.

This bed is larger than yours should be, too. What happened last night? Your mind is taking longer than usual to boot up. You feel relaxed still. You should be worried but everything feels nice. Not quite like you slept well, like there's a weight off your shoulders. No reason to rush.

Her eyes were stars. Yellow masses of nuclear energy larger than you could possibly imagine. You were nothing before her, pulled into orbit around her, taken into a new home by her. You were a lost dog and she was holding a leash. You were a picture in her wallet. You were a piece of candy she was eating.

Memories are still blurry. Your mind is slow to take action. You want to figure out why everything's unfamiliar but your mind is fighting you. Your phone wasn't in your pocket nor is it on the bedside table. Maybe it's somewhere else in the house. Try to remember your way around it, then?

The dream falls through your fingers like sand. Memories reduced to hallucinations. Your brain clings to it but you fight it off like running a hand through cobwebs. Sticky and distracting. Focus on the present.

Last night you met someone new. That wasn't the dream, was it? And she showed you... something? Or was it something she said? And then you went with her. Why did you do that? It felt right at the time. You weren't worried about your phone? You didn't tell anyone where you were going? No, something is terribly wrong.

Yet it still doesn't feel urgent, like your mind is telling you this is where you're supposed to be. A part of you is yawning and begging you to go back to sleep. But what happened? Turn the lights on to see the room properly.

The comforter has an orange, red, and brown checkered pattern on it and it's in a messy pile twisted up off to your side. There's a corkboard covered in prints, scenes of girls with wings of chains and painting rainbows in dreary cities. Above, the lights hang from the ceiling and are too bright to look at right now. Blink away radioactive spots in the shape of it. To your right, the doorway is unlocked. Stretch out and stand up.

"Hey, where are you going?"

The lights woke her up. Her voice reminds you that this is where you're supposed to be. Desperately you try to keep going to get up to leave but each step away from her hurts. You turn to look at her while you exit the room.

It's the girl from your dream. For a second she looks like just an ordinary girl, then you meet her eyes and remember what she is.

Her hands are in your hair and you're mewling under her caress in seconds. Apologizing for trying to leave. She understands, though. She tells you she knew you'd come back eventually. She really does care about you.

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Oh? What's what? Oh! Yeah, sometimes when I'm talking to people there are match cuts to spiders wrapping up and eating various insects, mirroring our positions. No, no, you don't need to worry about it at all. It's like a metaphor for how comfortable you are.

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