fuck buddies don't act like this (Gojo x Reader)

Chaptet 65

Fruitless that is what the day has become.

Your finger light upon the rim of the glass as it halos a ring of delight, once half full now stands empty waiting for seconds to pour down from the skies and lick away the thirst from your lips. But that would be too easy now wouldn't it especially so when you're in the presence of a man that slogs cider as if he's had one far too many. Gojo practically teleported to the opportunity of being close to you after you had uttered the outing for tonight. The date itself – his words not yours, it really doesn't bother you as it bridges the gap between friends and something other – is simple. Casual and all the while telling of something you had long ago forgotten, Gojo Satoru is not a casual drinker by any means.

A mistake that now hangs above his head like a dog to a bone.

The third round has barely begun and he has already gingerly taken to the corner of the booth with his head encased in his arms as he merely turns into a blubbering puddle upon the sticky surface of the table. His freshly tucked in lilac silk shirt stains against him as the arms grow taut and crease at his elbows the cuffs buttoned up barely meet halfway up to his wrists. Gojo had long forgone his deep circular sunglasses as they now lie a strewn on the table more so near you, far away from his sloshing pitcher.

Which now dribbles down the side of his glass onto his fingers the clear golden streams remind you of something else and if your inhibitions weren't so dulled now, you would have shaken the thought away. Yet now you lay languidly numb to your surroundings embracing the thrilling memory of Gojo licking clean his fingers as if the juices had become honey, dripping down to his wrists after he had fucked you so mercilessly with them. He was damn good with his fingers and even better thrusting his cock in and out of your sweet tight cunt.

His crystal blue eyes blow out to black as he gushes more about you and is incredulous desires as Gojo was never one to care much about his prudish surroundings even before this whole façade. Your cheeks grow hot, and you could lie about it being due to the alcohol consumption, yet you feel bold without your worries hindering you. Fingers grace upon the sticky lacquered surface that each time they pad up the sound of the sticky residue kisses the air. Gojo's eyes turn into slits watching your fingers drum whilst his dopey boyish grin dribbles onto his bent elbow.

"I... ah, misshed yooou." He hums butchering his words.

He has spoken of his longing several times now, once upon arrival and many times during his tipsy to slobbering drunk stage. It's endearing to say the least yet all you do is slouch further into the uncomfortable wooden booth maintaining a strict poker face. You're not so easily swooned by his charms despite how ecstatic you feel about his comments, you are alas a simple woman with simple needs met by this complex creature.

The idle indie music filters in through the chattering crowds of sorely drunk men and women far too concerned about themselves to interfere with either of you. Peace finds you at least within this cubby corner of a pigeonhole bar, Gojo slurs again his lips working against his brain's better judgement as his eyes continue to flick around himself. At first you didn't know what to expect from this little outing, enlightenment surely wasn't on the table yet so wasn't finding out that Gojo isn't much of a drinking partner. Hikaru can hold up better than he can, and she was the lightest light weight you had come across but sadly Gojo takes first place yet again in that roster.

A quick soft giggle thrums past your lips and Gojo stands to attention his eyes narrowing and his boyish dopey grin expanding, he forgoes his half empty pitcher to the side and reaches out. His long slender fingers gently grace the side of your arm that grinding your jaw square for a muffled exasperated sigh nearly betrays you.

"I misshed, huck, seeing you, ha, be-ingk... near yoou." He hiccups cocking his head further so he can continue gazing at you from his languid angle.

His touches grow bolder travelling along your arm as you would like to think that sober Gojo would have at least some more class but then you remember that he's just as provocative as he is cunning. The bastard constantly knows what he's up to all the time that simply batting him away fans the flames for his amusement and desires to plainly blossom before you.