getting stoned with your best friend expands into uncharted territory.
the room is hazy, thick with smoke, sunlight, and something else. something slow and syrupy, settling warm in your stomach.
the blunt sits forgotten between hamzah’s fingers, burning low, but neither of you seem to care all that much.
you’re both sunk into his bed, half sprawled against each other, shoulders touching, legs tangled.
it’s.. comfortable.
it’s always been just comfortable with him, nothing more.
hamzah exhales, lips parted, watching the last bit of smoke curl from his mouth before glancing over at you. his eyes are heavy-lidded and red-rimmed.
“y’wanna shotgun?” he murmurs, his voice slow.
if you weren’t so stoned, maybe you’d be surprised that he asked that out of nowhere.
the high that’s taken over your mind and body makes you a lot more laid-back compared to your usual self. it’s a sweet escape.
instead of any flicker of shock crossing your countenance, his question simply makes you laugh.
“you just want an excuse to put your mouth on me.” you retort with a lazy chuckle.
he grins back, completely unbothered. “and?”
you roll your eyes but still shift closer to him, close enough that you can feel the low buzz of warmth radiating off of his shirtless torso.
he takes one last slow drag, feeling the smoke swirl through his lungs on the inhale. he leans over to the nightstand and ashes out the end of the blunt while he holds in the smoke.
his eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second before he’s tilting his head closer and exhaling the gray plume right against your eager lips.
instinctively, you breathe it in, letting your mouths hover close.
closer than they probably should be, in terms of what kind of proximity best friends should stay within.
but then - he moves. just barely, but enough for his lips to ghost against yours. the small movement causes you both to realize that this isn’t typical. it’s an entirely unmapped territory in your friendship.
yet, neither of you pull away. hell, the thought of rejecting this doesn’t even cross your mind.
you exhale slowly, letting the last ribbon of smoke spill from your lips onto his. hamzah’s eyes drop to your mouth, watching it all happen.
and then he’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him right back.
it’s hazy at first, slow and unharmonious, like neither of you fully realize it’s happening.
but when his hand finds your waist, and you sigh against his lips, you’re suddenly shifting onto his lap and settling yourself ontop of him without stopping to try and think it through.
hamzah groans softly, fingers pressing into your hips - but he doesn’t rush it. his mind is definitely too flooded with the effects of the weed to make any sudden movements.
he simply tilts his head, deepening the kiss, allowing you to straddle him like this is something normal happening between the two of you.
you pull back just enough to meet his reddened gaze, your breath unsteady. “s’probably a bad idea.”
he breathes out a slow, amused laugh. his hands slide up your sides, warm and easy. “probably.”
neither of you stop. again - you don’t even think about stopping.
his fingers slip under the hem of your tank top, dragging slow, lazy circles with the tips of his fingers. your head tilts back as his mouth finds your throat, open and unhurried.
“this is.. you - you’re.. definitely so fucking high,” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw.
you smirk, tilting his chin back up so you can kiss him again. “so are you.”
“yeah,” he breathes, grinning against your lips. “and.. and you’re kind of on my dick right now.”
you nod, shifting just slightly. his grip on you tightens.
“fuck,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before looking up at you again. his hands slide back down, settling low on your waist, holding you there while holding himself back.
he exhales. “if you don’t get off me right now, i think i might.. i don’t know - fuck something up with us.”
you blink at him. your heartbeat is slow yet somehow still pounding in your ears. your hands press against his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the rise and fall of his labored breathing.
neither of you move, not really.
except you, you think it’s a good idea to shift your weight, barely, and hamzah makes a sound - low, caught somewhere between a groan and a curse. a noise you’ve never heard from him before.
his fingers dig into your waist like he’s physically restraining himself. like he’ll do something really fucking stupid if he doesn’t hold onto you and keep you still. his head falls forward, his slightly damp forehead pressing against your shoulder.
you watch him through half-lidded eyes, the slow drag of your hips becoming constant, like it’s an instinct more than an intention. it’s your own curiosity.
you’re high, sure, but not high enough to miss the way he’s struggling with this. “you okay?” you whisper, keeping your voice low like you’ll shatter the moment if you interrupt the air.
hamzah blinks like he’s processing the question in slow motion. “i..” his voice comes out wrecked, deeper than usual, a little raspy from the smoke. he swallows hard, shaking his head. “no. no, i’m - fuck, dude.”
he’s gone already. the poor boy’s fully lost himself in you.
you have to fend off the grin that threatens to appear on your lips. “dude?”
his hands flex on your waist, his jaw tightening. “shut up.”
you shift again, slower this time, watching how he reacts. his fingers twitch like he wants to press your hips down onto him, to make you move. he’s started to grow hard underneath you, his length pressing into your pussy through layers of clothing.
“bro,” he exhales shakily, eyes screwing shut. “you - fuckin’.. stop. like, actually stop.”
you smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his stomach. “why?”
he groans, head lolling forward as his eyes snap open, dark and glassy. “because, you..” his breath stutters as you shift just right, and his hands slide up, gripping your ribs now, higher than before, like he’s fighting himself. “you’re not even doin’ anything, and i feel - shit..”
he cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, his head tipping back again, his blunt nails beginning to dig into your skin.
you dip your head downwards, pressing your mouth just under his jaw. he shudders beneath you, his fingers twitching against your skin.
“what do you feel?” you whisper against his throat.
his jaw clenches. “like.. like if you don’t stop, i’m actually gonna fucking embarrass myself.”
your stomach twists, heat swirling and coating your insides. there’s that syrupy feeling again.
hamzah never talks like this. sure, he’ll have some trouble reading out loud, but he hardly gets flustered or loses track of what he wants to say.
except - right now, he’s wrecked, undone, his head spinning from the weed, from you. you start to realize that you really, really like it.
your fingers slide up to his neck, playing with the curls at his nape. “s’that bad, huh?”
he huffs out a laugh, shaky and uneven. “worse than bad.” his hands slide back down, squeezing at your waist before exhaling sharply. “dude, please.”
you don’t move too much. maybe another shift of your weight, the barest roll of your hips, to momentarily press your clothed clit against his erection. still, even that’s enough for him to lose his bearings.
“fuckin’..” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “dude. dude, i’m serious.”
you tilt your head, gazing at him while your nails scrape across his scalp. “about what?”
his grip on you is firm and a little desperate. “about you - about this,” he swears under his breath, his voice strained. “you’re like - grinding on me.”
you blink innocently. “am i? really?”
hamzah lifts his head, and fuck, he looks absolutely destroyed. his lips are swollen from how he’s been biting at them. “you know you are,” he mutters.
his hands twitch again, like he wants to move you for himself.
“but you like it.” you whisper back.
his jaw clenches so hard, it looks like he might crack a tooth.. “that’s the problem.”
you press your hips down onto him again, almost as if you’re testing him. his reaction is instant - his whole body shudders, his fingers are gripping you so hard it feels like it could bruise your skin.
his breath becomes lodged in his throat. “you..” he swallows thickly, trying to focus. “you gotta stop, or i swear-”
you lean in, brushing your lips over his ear. “what?” you taunt. “what do you swear?”
“shut up. i don’t know.” he grumbles in frustration, shooting you a dark look. his hands trail upwards until he’s gripping your face, tilting your head up so you’re right against his mouth. his breathing is erratic and uneven, his chest rising and falling without pattern against yours.
his fingers are warm against your jaw, his lips just inches away from yours. his dick is now unbearably hard and his whole body is tensed beneath you, like he’s hardly holding himself together.
like he’s waiting for you to finish what you started.
you inhale slowly, resting a gentle hand on top of his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding under your fingertips. “hamzah, i-”
and then - three quick knocks at his bedroom door.
you both jump like you just got caught doing something illegal. hamzah flinches so hard he almost knocks you off his lap, his hands immediately dropping from your face like he wasn’t just about to kiss you ‘till your lips got all red and swollen.
“bro,” a voice, one which you quickly recognize as martin’s, is heard through the door. when did he even get here? “we gotta go to the office. cory’s waiting in the car.”
silence hangs heavy in the smoke-filled air, the soft rays of sun pouring through the window suddenly feeling like a spotlight beating down on you - exposing you.
hamzah stares at you, breathing hard, pupils blown, mouth still so close to yours. his hands hover just above your skin, like he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore.
“uh.” he clears his throat, voice cracking. he swallows hard, blinking like he’s still catching up to what just happened. “um - yeah, just.. just give me a sec.”
hamzah’s bedroom is deathly quiet. you’re both still frozen, your fuzzy brains not quite catching up with what’s actually going on right now.
you simply sit and stare at each other, red and glossy eyes meeting each other, your hearts pounding in sync.
then - the door swings open. “dude, hurry the fu-”
you throw yourself off of hamzah like you just touched a hot stove, nearly falling off the bed in the process. hamzah flinches so hard he hits the back of his head on the headboard.
martin stops. he stares, blinking a few times.
“…oh.” he sniffs the air. “were you guys smoking? or, like.. fucking?”
hamzah chokes on his own breath, his cheeks burning up. “bro - what the hell, man?”
martin just shrugs, unbothered. “what? s’what it looks like to me.” he grins, greeting you with a casual wave.
you press a hand over your mouth to hide your laugh. hamzah looks murderous.
he shoves himself off the bed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. martin backs away down the hall, his laughter echoing.
hamzah flips him off behind his back before grabbing his lighter off the nightstand and heading for the door. he pauses when he reaches it, glancing back at you. your eyes drop to the painful-looking bulge that resides in his sweatpants.
he points at you, narrowing his eyes. “not a single fucking word.”
you frown, tilting your head. “damn. not even a ‘thank you’?”
hamzah groans loudly before walking out and slamming the door behind him.
a/n: get edged lol #bringbackdryhumping
xoxo giulia
transformation of the day
another blunt, another step over the blurred lines between friendship and romance. read part one here
it’s been a few weeks. maybe longer.
you realized that time gets weird when you’re trying to avoid something you’re not ready to name, with someone you’re not used to being apart from.
but, inevitably, here you are - same bedroom, same lazy sun slicing through the blinds, same warm smoke swirling through the air.
the awkward tension, though? that’s new.
you’re sitting beside hamzah again, shoulders touching, thighs close but not overlapping. a fresh blunt hangs from his lips as he flicks the lighter alive - this’ll be your second, and you both went heavy on the first - to make up for lost time, maybe.
he takes a long drag, leans his head back, and exhales slow. the wisp of smoke curls above your head.
“been thinkin’ about last time,” he says suddenly, voice rough.
you slowly blink, letting the words sink in. hesitantly, you turn your head to look at him. “yeah?” you reply vaguely.
he glances at you from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t fully look at you. “yeah.”
you take the blunt when he silently offers it to you, your fingers brushing during the exchange. you bring it to your mouth, inhale, then hold it in.
“what part?” you ask quietly.
“c’mon,” he scoffs, the hint of smirk ghosting across his lips. “you know what part.”
you do. you definitely know.
but you exhale slowly like it’s nothing, letting the smoke pour from your lips. “we didn’t even do anything.” you mutter.
hamzah fully turns toward you now, his body angled, one arm slung over the back of the bed. his eyes are deeply red and half-lidded, but still focused.
“exactly,” he says lowly. “that’s the problem. that’s why i can’t stop thinking about it.”
your pulse skips. you shift a little, not enough to make a scene, but he notices anyway. he always does.
“we could, uh..” he pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. “not do anything again.”
you raise your brows.
he clears his throat. “like - you could just sit on me.”
you blink, a hint of confusion crossing your countenance.
“on my.. y’know,” he clarifies, gesturing vaguely to his lap. “just sit, nothin’ else. i won’t even move.”
“that’s not ‘nothing,’” you say, lips curving slightly upwards at his twisted logic.
“but it’s not sex,” he argues. “not technically.”
you narrow your eyes at him, but you’re fully grinning now. “you sound really dumb right now.”
he shrugs. “we’re already high. we’re allowed to be dumb.”
you hold the blunt out to him, eyes sharp. “but what happens when you can’t sit still?”
his smile spreads lazily across his face as he takes it back from you. “dunno. we’ll see.”
you’re straddling him a few minutes later, slowly sinking onto his cock with a soft, shared breath like you’re both easing into warm water.
his hands are on your thighs, steadying you as you take him in, inch by inch. you feel full immediately, your breath catching in your throat as you settle against him.
you’re both still clothed. his sweats are shoved down just enough. your underwear and shorts are lazily tugged aside.
but you’re skin to skin where it counts.
he’s thick and warm inside you, and you don’t move. neither does he.
you just sit there, bodies molded into each other like it’s natural, like this is just another way to be high together. like this is just something that best friends do on occasion.
hamzah leans back against the wall, head tilted up, exhaling smoke slowly past his parted lips. “holy fuck.”
you laugh quietly, resting your hands on his chest. “you good?”
he looks at you hazy, red-rimmed eyes. “yeah. s’just..” he trails off, swallowing hard. “really warm.”
you reach for the blunt, take another hit, pass it back. he accepts it from your fingers like a ritual, and smokes while he’s inside you.
you two are just smoking together, per usual.
the only difference is that his cock is pressing into you so deeply, your mind is starting to melt.
minutes pass, exactly like that. slow and hazy. you manage to stay still - both of you are too high to rush, too obsessed with the strange intimacy of it all.
until he shifts.
just a little. barely a flex of his hips.
it still makes you gasp involuntarily, your teeth instinctively pinching down on your bottom lip.
“accident,” he mutters, his gaze fixated on your mouth. “kinda.” he adds with a teasing grin.
your narrow your eyes at him, furrowing your brows in frustration. “don’t do that.”
he smirks again, a clear sign that he’s not going to listen to you. and then - of course - directly opposing your wishes, he does it again.
it’s a slow, controlled roll of his hips that has your breath lodged in your throat and your thighs clenching around him.
“hamzah.” you hiss, sucking in a sharp inhale though your clenched teeth.
“not movin’,” he muses, even as his hands grip your ass and roll you down into him again.
the blunt’s long gone now, fizzled out somewhere in the ashtray - forgotten, just like your original agreement to stay still.
now he’s actually fucking into you, slow and deep, your bodies flush, sticky, and buzzing with heat.
your head falls onto his shoulder, your breath shaky in his ear. “you’re a fuckin’ liar,” you whisper, even as you grind down onto him without thinking.
he’s breathing heavy, and his voice comes out small. “still don’t think this counts as sex.”
you’re about to reply when your phone starts vibrating, the noise rattling through the air.
you both freeze. a name lights up across your screen: mandy.
your eyes widen. hamzah simply grins, evil and amused.
“answer it.” he whispers.
you shake your head immediately. “no, are you crazy?”
“c’mon,” he coaxes, thrusting up just once, sharp and slow.
you gasp, your free hand scrambling for your phone on the bedside table while your other one grips at the fabric of his hoodie. “fuck. you’re such an asshole.”
“answer it,” he repeats in a murmur against your neck, the same teasing edge evident in his tone. “and keep your fuckin’ voice down.”
begrudgingly, you hit accept and hold your phone to your ear.
“hey!” mandy chirps, way too loud for the situation you’re currently in. “we’re still going to brunch tomorrow, right?”
hamzah fucks up into you again.
your mouth falls open but no sound comes out. you weakly clear your throat. “y-yeah. yeah, for sure..”
his hand slides up your back beneath your shirt, the other gripping your hip as he moves again. you slap your hand over your mouth, stifling a moan.
“babe, are you okay? you sound out of breath.”
“i’m fine,” you breathe out, trying to not give away the fact that hamzah’s pushing into you at a pace that’s making your thighs tremble.
“okay, cool!” mandy’s voice is all sunshine on the other end of the phone. “you good with our normal place? i got us a reservation already.”
you shudder and squeak out, “perfect, that’s-” hamzah thrusts deeper in the middle of your sentence. “mmh! - perfect..”
“are you sure you’re okay?” mandy asks again.
“i’m - yeah, i’m-”
hamzah does it again and you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder with a glare. he simply laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck.
“m-mandy, i gotta go,” you gasp. “uh, it’s.. an emergency. love you, bye.”
you hang up before she can say anything else, dropping your phone on the bed.
hamzah’s immediately moving again, his hands locked on your hips, his mouth dragging down your throat.
neither of you are pretending anymore.
he’s deep inside you, rhythm getting rougher, breath getting heavier, when it hits you - how close that just was.
your hand is still shaking from the phone call, your skin buzzing, but the high is starting to twist into something sharper.
anxiety. awareness.
you pull back just slightly, your hands pressing against his chest. “shit.”
hamzah doesn’t stop right away - he’s too far gone, hips still grinding up into you, but your voice brings him back a little. “what?”
you look at him, heart hammering now for a totally different reason. “she knew something was off. if i’d messed up any more..”
he swallows, blinking quickly like he’s trying to sober up. “yeah. yeah, okay, you’re right. fuck.”
his hands slide off your hips slowly, like he’s just realizing how far he let himself go. you stay where you are for a second longer, still straddling him, still full of him - but now you’re both frozen still.
“we really almost got caught. again.” you whisper, staring at him.
he laughs sheepishly under his breath. “yeah. that would’ve been.. bad. martin already saw us last time.”
you finally lift yourself off him, legs shaking slightly, and collapse beside him in a warm, hazy heap. neither of you say anything for a moment.
then hamzah mutters, “mandy’s totally gonna interrogate you.”
you let out a breathless laugh, covering your flushed face with one hand. “trust me, i know.”
xoxo giulia
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GOOD GRACES
You meet Gojo at a party and tell him he needs to prove his worth before you let him take you out.
Or, the four times Gojo tries to date you and the one time you try to date him.
The dress you’re wearing is impossibly tight against your figure, and this night is impossibly boring. You’re a good friend. A great friend, even. To put yourself in a room with all these stuffy, high society people. You think you deserve some kind of award for it.
When Utahime asked you to join her, there was no contest. Of course you’d say yes to your best friend, no matter how heinous her request was. She’d been unable to find any plus one and she knew half the people at this event would turn their noses up at the fact she’d shown up alone. That was enough to deter you but the desperate look on her face had you accepting.
That’s why you were here, sitting on a table on your own while she mingled with others. You think it might be some alumni event from the rich high school she went to. Jujutsu Tech? You remember she showed you the tuition her parents used to pay once and you nearly passed out. You’re sure that's an amount of money you’d probably never see in your life. God, you hate the rich.
At least some of her peers were hot. You had your eyes on the blonde wearing blue and cream. Definitely boyfriend material. You tug your dress up your body. Utahime was definitely smaller than you, and the expensive dress she’d lent you was much more revealing on your body than it was hers. You wonder what all the high class teachers thought of your cleavage popping out of your dress. You wonder what blue suit thought about your cleavage sticking out of your dress.
“You look like you’re having fun.” A voice teases.
“I’m glad somebody’s fooled.” You reply, looking up at the man standing in front of you.
He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice about him. You’re sitting down but you’re sure even if you stood he’d still be towering over you, long limbs that cross over a broad chest. You can see the outline of muscle through the black button up he’s wearing, and the thickness of his thighs that stretch his black slacks. And his hair is white. Dusting over his eyes that are impossibly blue, crinkled with amusement as he looks down at you.
You hold a hand out. “Hi. I’m Y/N.”
His brows furrow slightly at your hand. But he still grabs it and his palm is warm as he shakes your hand.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I don’t think I recognise you. You were in the class of 2018?” He tilts his head slightly as he asks the question.
“Oh, God no. I’m here as a plus one.” You shake your head.
“You don’t sound too happy about that.” He grins, taking the seat beside you. You turn a bit so that you're slightly facing him, rolling your eyes.
“Of course I’m not happy about it. This place is way too prim and proper for me.” You sigh.
Gojo laughs. “What, high society not doing it for you?”
“Hell no. It’s like every conversation I’ve had is just a competition of who can brag about their wealth more. I’ve taken to just lying about it all.”
“Lying?”
“Yeah. You have two yachts, then I have three. You have one million, I have two. I can go all day.” Gojo laughs again and it makes you grin.
“Well, Y/N. You’re a good addition to these things. I hate them too. Everyone’s always all over me, you know. I was valedictorian, the teachers love parading me around to the current students.”
The very unsuccessful attempt at subtle bragging is not lost on you. Something about him, the attractiveness and cockiness rang familiar.
“Hm. You’re Gojo, right?”
Gojo narrows his eyes. “How did you know?”
“Oh, Utahime told me about you. Full of himself and tall, amongst other things. I think you fit the bill.” You pat his shoulder affectionately and he pouts.
“I can’t believe she’s been chatting shit about me. I’m a great guy.”
“It’s never the great guys who need to say they’re great guys, my friend.”
He pouts again and you giggle. You lean back, taking another sip of your champagne. You don’t notice the pair of blue eyes intently watching you do it.
“God, there’s a box of chocolate and a movie marathon waiting for me at home. I just need to power through this.”
“Oh yeah? What are you watching?”
“Romcoms. Tooth rotting romcoms.”
“Oh I love romcoms. You know, a lot of women say I’m just like-“
“I’m going to stop you right here.” You hold up a hand in his face and Gojo huffs, reaching up to grab it and move it.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I’m sure I can guess and none of it makes you look good.”
He’s still pouting and also still holding you. Long, slender fingers that basically engulf your own hand, they’re that much bigger than yours. You wonder what else-
Okay. Maybe no more champagne for you. You tug your hand out his grasp, trying to play off the blush that dusts your cheeks.
“If you wanted to hold my hand so badly you could just say, Gojo.”
“I want to hold your hand.”
You fluster. “Shush. What’s your favourite romcom?”
“You just told me to ask. And.” He pauses, thinking. “27 dresses.”
You grin, now turning to face him completely. “I love that movie!”
“Me too!”
“Wow. I thought you were just lying to get into my pants. But you’ve got good taste.”
“Yeah, I definitely have good taste.” And he looks at you in that intense way again that makes you laugh nervously.
“So what do you do, Gojo?” You clear your throat, changing your mind and downing the rest of your champagne. You could do with the confidence.
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Oh, cool. Like in suits.”
Gojo snorts a laugh. “Yes, like in suits. Though I think I’m much more attractive than that Harvey guy.”
It’s your turn to laugh. He pouts again. “What, you don’t agree?”
“I don’t know. I’ve not actually watched the show.”
“Take my word for it. I am much more attractive than him. I’m taller, too.”
“What, that’s important to attractiveness?”
“Well, you know what they say.”
You roll your eyes, cheeks reddening again. You do know what they say and some part of you knows Gojo is probably not only blessed in the wealth department.
Jesus. You really need to stop drinking so much at these things. You glance at the empty glasses near you and you pretend they don’t exist.
“Gross.”
Gojo grins again, flashing those pearly white teeth.
“So, are you-“
“Gojo, fuck off.”
Utahime’s voice is whispered as she speaks but Gojo’s face twists like he’s been yelled at. He stands and tries to pull her into a hug but she shoves him away.
“Utahime! It’s been so long, you grew up so beautiful!”
“Shove your compliments up your ass, Gojo. Come on, Y/N, we’re leaving.”
You frown slightly, glancing at Gojo who also looks slightly dejected. But Utahime warned you of what he’s like. And while all the flirting and everything was nice you’re sure it’s all just a ploy to fuck you and leave. You were not going to be another woman under his belt. That poor girl that he fucked once.
But he’s so hot. That button up is hugging his biceps so deliciously you have to physically pull your eyes away.
“It was nice speaking to you, Gojo.” His eyes widen as you go to leave.
“Wait, can I get your number?” He asks quickly.
“No, you can’t get her number. I’m not letting you fuck her over.” Utahime snaps, pulling you up on your feet.
For the first time a twinge of irritation crosses Gojos features. “Come on, Utahime, don’t be like that. I’m not-“
“I don’t care, she’s not interested. It was not nice seeing you.” She snarls, dragging you away.
You always commend Utahime on her strong character but you sort of wish she’d just shut up. You give one more wave to Gojo, and you sigh at the sight of him standing there, because you know it's the last time you’ll ever see him.
——————-
It turns out you will see Gojo again. Or more accurately, his wealth.
You walk into your office the next day to see a very expensive looking bouquet on your desk. Blues and whites, all different types of flowers that bend and twist over each other. You slip off the card that’s attached to the bouquet and smile slightly at the very bad drawing of Gojo imprinted on the front. And a phone number scribbled underneath. A quick google search tells you these flowers cost a few hundred pounds. You’re so shocked by the sight of the price you don’t hear Utahime slide up beside you. You do hear her annoyed sigh.
“Let me guess. Gojo?”
You slip your phone in your pocket. “Might not be. I could have a secret boyfriend.”
“Yeah right. Like you can keep a secret for longer than a second.” She grabs the card out of your hand.
“Tell me you’re not going to message him.”
“I think I might. Thank him for the flowers, you know?”
Utahime brows furrow at your sly smile. “Whatever. I can’t stop you. You’re a grown woman. It’s your funeral.”
She raises her hands in surrender and passes you the card again. You pocket it and decide you’ll message him after work. You spend the rest of your shift staring at the flowers, wondering when he’d had the time to even get them here. Had he been thinking about you as much as you had him? Because you had been, last night, as you were falling asleep. Thinking about his height, those slender fingers, that grin. You realised it had been a bit too long since you’d been with a man.
You decide to text him on your way home. You’re squeezed on the train between an old man and a woman you think is about to fall asleep on you.
You: thank you for the flowers mr gojo
Gojo: 😁😁 Did you love them so much
You: I did
You: thought they take up a lot of room in my office
You: how much did you spend on them 😭
Gojo: Only the best for you baby
Gojo: And price is no issue
Gojo: You deserve them
Gojo: Surprised you’re even messaging me
Gojo: Utahime finally lay off?
You quickly realise that Gojo is not against double texting. Or quadruple texting, it seems.
You: I told her to fuck off >:)
You: jk
You: I told her I’m a big girl who knows what she’s doing
You: especially with guys like you
Gojo: 🤔 Guys like me!?
Gojo: Incredibly handsome and rich and talented and funny and smart guys??
You: modest too..
You: no, I mean guys who fuck girls and then expect them to leave right after
Gojo: If EYE fucked you you wouldn’t be able to leave
Gojo: But I’m not like that 🙁🙁 what has Utahime been telling you about me
You: im gonna ignore that first message for ur own good
You: and she told me enough 😒
Gojo: Whats enough
You: what’s your body count first
Gojo: … 😅
Gojo: Okay not fair I used to be a slut when I was a teenager
You: look i won’t say I’m not interested
You: ur hot and ur funny and u have good taste in movies
You: but I’m 24 😭 I’m not getting involved with someone who isn’t considering long term
Gojo: But I am considering long term
You: really?
Gojo: With you yeah
You: you prove that to me then
Gojo: 😫😫😫 HOW
You: YUCK don’t use that emoji
Gojo: 😫😫 WHY
You: looks like ur in the throes of an orgasm
Gojo: LMAOOO
Gojo: I look much sexier when I orgasm thanks
You: okay luckily my stop is next so we can stop talking about your orgasms now
——-
The flowers become a regular thing. So does the texting. You let Gojo know after the third time of leaving them at your desk that this wasn’t proving he was serious about you. He tells you he knows, and that he just wants to spoil you. You pretend that it doesn't leave butterflies in your stomach.
It’s been two weeks and you find yourself growing more and more attached to him. He messages you every morning and every night, during his breaks at work. He sends selfies too, with his three trainees, the smiley one with pink hair, the moody black haired one and the girl with a killer bob. Selfies of him in his suit for work, of him at the gym. You think those are definitely your favourite.
It’s weird that someone like Gojo is interested in someone like you. You’re sure there’s a thousand girls who are prettier and rich like him he’d get on with much better. You told him as much one late night, insecurities churning in your head, the early hours of the morning loosening your lips.
Gojo: Shut up don’t say that
Gojo: I like you because ur funny and kind and ur so smart
Gojo: I could give two shits about how much money you have
Gojo: And you’re beautiful Y/N
Gojo: Why do you think I approached you in the first place?
Gojo: Once you finally say yes ur definitely wearing that dress again 😋
You: thank you Gojo <3
You: and that’s utahimes dress I had to give it back :/
Gojo: I’ll buy you ten like them
You’ve not actually seen Gojo since the party. But you couldn’t mistake the figure chatting to your receptionist as you leave for your lunch break as anyone else.
“Gojo?”
He looks up the second he hears your voice. And you think his eyes brighten a little when he sees you, and he bounds over. He stops in front of you, warm hands dropping on your shoulders.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m taking you to lunch.”
“I’m not going on a date with you, Gojo.” You cross your arms.
He smiles slightly, shaking his head. “Not as a date. As friends. We’re friends, right?” He smiles wider and you couldn’t say no to him if you tried.
You begrudgingly walk out, waving goodbye to Doris at the front desk. She winks at you and you shoo her away. Gojo ends up driving you to a cute little ramen shop not to far from your place. He orders something he insists you’ll love. He commends his choice again as the steaming bowls are placed in front of the two of you. Before you could call him too confident, you practically moan when you take the first bite.
“Oh my god, this is so good.” You speak through a mouthful of noodles and Gojo nods.
“I know! You’ve never been here before?”
“No! If I did I don’t think I’d ever leave.”
The two of you chat about work. Gojo tells you about his latest case, and you listen intently, only a little jealous of how fun it sounds.
“The most interesting thing that happens at my work is someone eating someone else’s lunch.” You huff. “Or maybe the huge bouquets of flowers that keep showing up at my desk.”
Gojo leans forward slightly at the sight of your teasing smile. The table the two of you are on is small enough that when he does so his legs press against yours. You sit up a bit.
“Glad I can bring some entertainment to your office.”
“You’re giving me way too much. I had to give one of the bouquets to my mum, I had no space at my place. And she’s asking questions.”
“Oh yeah? Who’d you tell her they were from?”
“My stalker.”
Gojo splutters. “Your stalker? That’s not fair!”
You laugh. “Why not!”
“Well, that's ruined my first impression. I need my in-laws to like me.”
You roll your eyes. “What happened to this just being lunch?”
Gojo hums. “I can’t be prepared for the future? Who knows what it holds?”
“Shut it you.” You dunk your chopsticks into your bowl
He just looks at you. You glance up at him. You think catching him in the act will make him stop, but he doesn’t. Just keeps staring at you.
“You alright there?”
“You look really pretty today.”
Your face heats and you swallow. “Thanks.”
“This blouse.” He leans forward, fingers curling into the collar of your button up. He’s about one inch away from touching your skin and you want him to, want him to reach and trace his fingers down your chest.
“Looks good on you.”
You nod. Eyes transfixed on his. “T-Thanks. Yeah. Thanks.”
He grins once again, something glinting in his eyes.
————
A week later, the office postman drops something at your desk. An envelope with messy handwriting you can immediately recognise as Gojo’s.
You rip the envelope open and two slips of paper fall out. You quickly deduce that their tickets. Your eyes skim over them quickly. Your mouth drops open when you read the loopy calligraphy on them and you grab your phone, immediately dialling Gojo’s number.
“Gojo! You didn’t!”
“Wait, what did I do?” His voice comes confused down the other line.
“The tickets! To the outdoor movie night thing at the park! They were sold out, how did you get them?”
“Oh, that! Yeah, I know someone who works there that owes me a favour.” You can almost hear the smug tone in his voice but you don’t care.
Because the truth is you really wanted to go. Those outdoor movie parks. You always loved the picnic blankets all spread across a field, watching the sunset behind the movie screen. And not only was this one in the prettiest park in your town, but it was also showing one of your favourite movies ever. You usually went every year and you’d tried to buy tickets but you missed the cut off and they’d all been taken. You tried not to dwell too much in your disappointment, but this was too much.
“God, Gojo, thank you. How’d you even know I wanted to go?”
“You mentioned it like. A week or two ago? When I called you during my lunch break, remember?”
You barely did, so you have no idea how he did. You say as much to him and he laughs.
“I don’t know either. It’s not important. I hope you enjoy them.
He pauses suddenly.
“Also, this isn’t me like- asking you out subtly. They’re yours, you take who you want.”
God. Was Utahime sure this is the same Gojo she had gone to school with? Bceuase the man she’d described was nothing like the one you were on the phone with.
“Shut up, I’m taking you, obviously.”
“You really don’t need to.”
“I know. I want to.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll pick you up after work, then?”
“I finish at five.”
“I’ll see you then.”
——
It’s been a month and Gojo doesn’t know what to do.
He hates it. Never in his life has he been this enamoured with anyone. It’s usually the other way around and usually he’s the one rejecting unwanted advances. As vain as it sounds, Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever met a woman who’s taken longer than a few days to fall for him. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much more. You respect yourself too much to fall for the stuff his usual girls do.
Gojo will be honest. When he approached you at the party, his one goal in mind was to get you in bed. You just looked so good. Tight dress clinging around your curves, those tits almost spilling out. The expanse of your legs, paired with those heels. God, he’s only human. How could he not come over to you?
But then he’d actually spoken to you. And you were funny, and witty, and he kind of wanted to introduce you to his mother instead of just fuck you. And then Utahime had to ruin it all before he even had a chance.
So Gojo’s been trying so hard to win you over. Done everything he can think of. And it’s worse now, because the more he tries to win you over, the more he gets to know you, and the more he wants you. Not just physically but in every way of the word. He wants to take you out on dates, and wants to introduce you to Geto and Nanami. Buy you necklaces and bracelets that cost half his paycheck, introduce you to his family.
And most of all, though, he wants to spread you open against his bedsheets. Kiss his way down your neck, your chest. Make you whine underneath him, come undone under his hands.
That’s all minor details. Patience is what Gojo needs and what he definitely doesn’t have any when it comes to you.
He walks into his office, cursing the wasted good weather as he signs in. He waves at the receptionist Ijichi, a cheery, starry-eyed man a few years younger than him. Before he can reach his office he sees Yuji and Nobara standing in front of the door, giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Megumi is standing off to the side. He looks uninterested but Gojo can tell by the way he’s slightly leaning towards them he’s listening too.
“Is there a reason you young trainees are giggling in front of my office?” Gojo asks.
He feels oddly like their teacher, even though new hires are sort of everyone’s responsibility. They always only come to him. Megumi is probably his favourite but he’ll never tell them that.
Yuji giggles again. “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend, Gojo.”
Gojo’s brows furrow in confusion. He tilts his head to the side. “Apparently I didn’t tell myself either. What are you talking about?”
Nobara joins him, grinning. “Yeah, is she hot? I bet she is, you’re too vain to date someone ugly.” She shakes her head scathingly and Gojo splutters.
“Both of you shut up. Go do some work.” He shoos them away and they stalk off.
Gojo mumbles some choice words under his breath. He walks in and instead of seeing his messily kept desk he’s met with a bouquet of flowers on his desk. They’re definitely smaller than any of the ones he got you, but they’re pretty and pink. He plucks the card off the side and scoffs at the clumsily drawn person he’s guessing is supposed to be you.
Gojo: Blushing so hard in the office rn 🙈
Soon to be gf: do you love them :D
Gojo: They’re very pink
Soon to be gf: does that hurt ur masculinity :(
Gojo: Of course not
Gojo: I love them😆
‘I love you’ is what Gojo wants to say but he holds his tongue. That’s always his issue. Gojo doesn’t love a lot but when he does, he loves hard. Loves so much that he thinks it might kill him, swallow him whole.
He spends the first few hours of his shift idly working, eyes darting to the flowers that sit pretty on his desk. The trainees keep trying to find stupid excuses to walk in so they can try and see who they’re from, but Gojo just waves them off every time. He decides to go out for his lunch break, because the sickly sweet smell of the flowers is only reminding him of everything he doesn’t have.
And then he sees you chatting with Ijichi at the entrance and he remembers what this is all for. Your face lights up when you see him, grinning cheekily.
“Did you like your flowers, Mr Gojo?”
“I did indeed.”
You rest your head on your hand, leaning against the desk. You’re wearing a summer dress, something blue and patterned that clings to your chest and torso and flits around your lower half. The skirt rides up your thighs as you lean forward to whisper something to Ijichi and he curses under his breath.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo walks until he’s right in front of you.
You look up, something mysterious in your face.“I’m taking you out for lunch.”
Gojo tilts his head. “You’re taking me out? What's the occasion?”
“Just felt like it. Come on.”
Gojo follows obediently as you grab his arm, linking yours in it to walk him out the building. You chatter about something or the other. He can’t really focus because the sun is shining off your skin and your smiling and he just wants to reach over and touch you.
“Okay, we’re here!”
You pull Gojo into a bakery. There’s cakes and cupcakes and pies all lined up in glass cases, and the other half of the shop is filled with sandwiches and savoury treats. Gojo is practically drooling as he reads the menu.
“What- Why are we here?” He asks, eyes still trailing over the long expanse of desserts to choose from.
“I know you like your sweets so I looked around for a good bakery and this one was right here, right next to your work! So I thought I’d take you here so I could-“
You pause. “Yeah.”
“So you could what?”
“No matter. Now go pick something.”
You end up taking the desserts to go after the ten minutes it takes for him to decide what he wants. You lead Gojo through some pathways he’s never been down before. He asks you if you plan on murdering him and you roll your eyes. Doesn’t deny it though.
The end result is not his murder location, but a cute park, with ducks and a pond. They sit on a rusty bench dedicated to someone gone, and eat their desserts. You scrunch your nose at the amount of sweets he can eat in one sitting. The two of you talk about everything and anything, until you start looking nervous.
“You okay? You’ve gotten all fidgety.”
“Mhm. I’m okay. Just nervous.”
Gojo is confused. Nervous about what? About him?
“What’s there to be nervous about?”
There’s a soft breeze blowing wisps of your hair into your face. It's only twelve o clock so the sun shines brightly above the two of you. The park is pretty empty, though, the occasional dogwalker or old man idly walking by. You bite your lip, scratching at your cheek.
“I just don’t know how I’m going to ask you out.”
Oh.
Your cheeks flush red almost the same second as the words leave your mouth.
“Shit. Fuck, I didn’t mean- Oh god, I’ve ruined it.” You groan, covering your face with your hands.
Gojo breathes a laugh. “What- What's going on?”
You shake your head, still hiding in your hands. “God, I just. I like you, I realised. Really like you. And I think that- that I want to be with you. So I thought about asking you out and I was going to do all the things you did for me, like the flowers and everything. But I’ve fucked it.”
You look up at him and he looks at the crease between your eyebrows, the small pout on your lips. And it seems the only thing he can do is reach forward and kiss you. His hands reach up and curve under your jaw, fingers toying with the hairs on the back of your neck. You make a little whine as he licks into your mouth and it makes him press closer. He’s sure you can probably feel the arousal on him, and he knows that as he lets his hands slip to the small of your back and pull you onto his lap.
“So beautiful, you know that? Been dreaming about this.” He groans, kissing your jaw, down your neck.
He licks at your pulse and you moan slightly and he can feel the heat on your face as you cards a hand through his hair. You pull him back, and it’s his turn to moan at the pain in his scalp mixed with the delicious pressure of you sitting in his lap.
“Gojo, we- we’re in public.” You laugh.
He leans forward, dropping his forehead on yours.
“I don’t care. I’ve been waiting for you for a month, you temptress.” He sighs dramatically.
“Ask me out first at least, gosh.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope you all enjoyedddd! i just randomly had the idea for this and i hope you all like it. also i really wanna write smut but i also cringe out so much?? so one day just expect at the end of one of these oneshots y/n getting dicked down!
as always asks are open, so plz feel free to leave me some suggestions!
just appreciating his hands
one smiley boy!!
i love all this pure content they're giving us 💕
The map flag had the same color scheme as the pan flag and now they’re switching to the bi flag
If you see anyone with this flag or any variation
Run
Don’t fucking hesitate to block because pedos are now using this new “flag” and other forms of it
Can I get a signal boost from larger accounts? Start tagging people so this will spread