#this actually doesn't answer the prompt precisely but I hope you enjoy anyway

[rriavian]

Another mini fic for the flower prompt exchange @bobbole @windsweptinred and I are doing. It's a little rough, and I might actually add more to it before cross posting to ao3. But I think I might start writing more for this pairing because I loved this.

I hope you enjoy!

Dream and Lucienne: Clematis, evergreen, Paper Ring Wedding, Prompt if you fancy, include the words, "I know it's not much... "

-

It’s only when she gives Dream the ring that Lucienne realises it’s probably a stupid idea. 

The very feeling of that is strange—this sudden anxiety foreign, bubbling up like butterflies in her stomach—insecurity like this not something she’s used to at all.

Lucienne is always certain, always sure; precise, methodical, should be equally meticulous even in gifting Dream this thing she feels may risk mistranslation, may reveal itself to be poorly worded. The feeling shifts when she tries to examine it, for all Lucienne is nervous it doesn't hurt, isn't truly uncomfortable, an investigation that nonetheless reveals a shyness she’d not expected to find. It’s not that she considers her offering poorly made, not that Lucienne thinks she isn't worthy.

It’s not that at all.

Just an awkwardness in allowing herself to be so easily perceived.

The band of the ring is slim, formed of interwoven strands of paper, improbable in the Waking World but more than possible here. If one looked closely enough it is possible to see words. If one was allowed close enough they could see it’s inscribed with words chosen from the books in Lucienne’s library. Dream’s gift to her, her gift to him; painstakingly written out—lines they've both enjoyed, quotes, little favourite phrases—these things she’d wanted to give to him to carry wherever he goes. Not weight. Lucienne would not add that. And it's not to lighten a load either.

Perhaps a grounding, perhaps reminding, perhaps she’d wanted to add reasons for the appearance of his smile.

Dream smiles now. 

He slips the paper ring onto his finger, so careful as he settles it into place, because even in the Dreaming paper is still delicate enough to be easily torn. 

Lucienne’s own ring sits gold on her finger; simplicity, elegance in the lack of intricate adornments, bland only in contrast to the crown Dream had wanted to give her alongside it. Not to buy her affections with splendor, but to forge something reflective of her worth, to smelt love into metal. Lucienne had wanted to give him something too, this exchange of rings not only a tradition to be followed, yet what could she give to him when he could make anything he desired? What unique thing could she add when Dream had made this realm, this palace, this library, all of it so achingly beautiful, so exquisite even in darkness. 

Lucienne opens her mouth—

Dream anticipates.

He knows as he always knows.

“My Lucienne,” He says softly, eyes lifting from the ring as if he’d found a palace there, a sun in her. “Your love could never be inadequate; a treasure, an oath, a gift from my first raven, a tether from my wife.”

The insecurity stabilises, relief uncurling the tension from Lucienne’s shoulders, until all that's left is what inspired her need to get this right. A blossoming of affection soft and fond at hearing Dream’s solemn but earnest tone, a love so deep her shyness only rippled the surface, a feature not a detriment. There is no lie in Dream's voice. He has no need for that; if he didn’t love her he’d say so, if she didn’t love him she’d do the same. And Lucienne knows that she should not have worried, feels pleased by the reminder anyway, finds contentment in the proof of Dream’s appreciation for small things, for paper as well as gold.

“Then you like it?”

Lucienne asks despite already knowing the answer.

Dream glances back down, smiles again, soft in fascinated distraction, as if he is reading all of the words she’d written across the band of that paper ring. He is, Lucienne reminds herself, is brushing against them to feel the curve of her pen, the time she’d taken to write this ring into being, all she'd given to it.

“I will never take it off.”

“It’s settled then.” Lucienne teases. “Eternity it is.”

“Eternity.” Dream repeats; his own tease in how he plays at testing the word as if he doesn’t yet know what it means, as if it is still a new thing for this Endless being to learn.

“Did you ever think I would give you anything less?”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: What character ends up with a reputation as the anti-JGS (they will acknowledge ALL their illegitimate children) and how did that come about/is it justified?

Got Without Merit

“You can’t just throw the boy out like that!” Lan Qiren exclaimed.

He waved a hand over to his attendants, who got the hint and rushed down to the bottom of the stairs of Jinlin Tower to see if the boy that had just been thrown down those stairs was all right. Those were an awful lot of stairs, and he was still only just a regular mortal, even if he had a cultivator’s bloodline.

Though perhaps that made it worse, in some ways, given that the cultivator whose bloodline he shared was the one who had had him thrown out like some pile of trash.

“Why not?” Jin Guangshan asked, utterly disinterested and a little surprised by Lan Qiren’s reaction; it was clear he hadn’t expected any of the more respectable guests at his legitimate son’s birthday – among them the leaders of the other Great Sects, who he’d decided on a whim to invite mostly to show that he could – to follow him outside. “I certainly don’t want the brat here.”

“Are you or are you not a cultivator?” Lan Qiren snapped. “Your duty is to protect the innocent, to fight evil and stand up for the common people – and tossing a boy that barely seems any older than ten or twelve down multiple flights of stairs is hardly any of those! Even if he were a complete stranger to you, you’d owe him more civility than that!”

The other sect leaders were watching the discourse in the same way they might a game, their heads swiveling back from Lan Qiren to Jin Guangshan in anticipation of his retort.

Noticing their gazes, Jin Guangshan’s face reddened a little bit – with anger, not shame.

“It’d be one thing if he was a stranger, but he’s here claiming to be my bastard son,” he said coldly, sparing only a quick glance backwards as if to assure himself that his fearsome wife was not there. “Assuming he’s correct, then I have the right to deal with him as I please, and without argument or comment from you. A father is an absolute tyrant where his son is concerned, and anyone who sticks their nose in other people’s business is the one who’s wrong. Isn’t that right?”

Lan Qiren’s cheeks were flushed red with rage as well. He seemed genuinely offended, his fingers shaking with fury, and it seemed like swallowing down his anger might cause him to break something.

“That assumes he’s your bastard,” Lao Nie put in, an unexpected entry into the game – everyone turned to look at him. “The principle of a father and son is correct, to be sure, but for it to apply, you must befather and son. Does that mean you’re acknowledging him?”

“Certainly not!” Jin Guagnshan scowled at the dazed-looking boy being brought in front of him once more by solicitous Lan sect disciples. “His surname is Meng; his mother is Meng Shi, one of the most famous prostitutes in Yunping. While I certainly don’t deny bedding her, who’s to say that I’m the father? Perhaps she was mistaken.”

The boy looked stricken by Jin Guangshan’s words, his expression twisting with despair: despite his best efforts to keep his face neutral, his lips were trembling a little, his eyes filling with tears as his hopes were brutally ripped away in front of him.

“Hey now, that’s true, that’s true. Maybe she really was mistaken,” Lao Nie said, his tone amiable and friendly in a way that usually preceded him being especially troublesome – tellingly, Wen Ruohan had already started smirking in anticipation – and then he added, “You know, I’ve been to Yunping myself. Maybe she got the sect leader part right, and the rest wrong.”

Jin Guangshan stared blankly at him.

Everyone stared at him.

Lao Nie grinned back at all of them, completely unashamed.

“Of course, that would be rather awkward,” he continued thoughtfully, stroking his chin – he had a beard today, small and well-trimmed; it lent him even more of an air of reliability than usual, however false that impression was. “If he really were my son, Guangshan-xiong, you wouldn’t have just assaulted some random boy on the street, but the son of another Great Sect. I could start a war over a slight like that if I wanted to. Isn’t that right?”

“Don’t be preposterous,” Jin Guangshan snapped.

“I’ve been to Yunping, too,” Wen Ruohan said mildly, and the words dropped into the conversation like a stone into a well, sending ripples of dismay everywhere.

Lao Nie might be martial and fierce, but the Qinghe Nie were loners by nature, disinclined to spread their power much beyond the borders of their rich and fertile lands. In contrast, Wen Ruohan was an empire-builder, ambitious and hungry as a ravening wolf at the door: unlike Lao Nie, he might really take the excuse, however flimsy, as an opportunity to start a war that could by some stretch of the imagination be considered justified, just for the chance to conquer the territory that opposed him.

“We’ve all been to Yunping! There was a discussion conference there a little over decade ago!” Lan Qiren said, either completely missing the context or deliberately ignoring it. “None of that changes the fact that the boy can’t be tossed around as if he were an empty pillowcase – there’s disciplining your child, and then there’s wanton cruelty. The former is every man’s right, but I will not tolerate the latter!”

“You know, I think he’s right?” Lao Nie remarked into the air, tapping the side of his nose. “We really were all in Yunping all that time ago – Sect Leader Jiang, that was the conference you hosted, wasn’t it? Yunping being in Yunmeng and all that.”

“That’s right,” Jiang Fengmian said, not looking especially pleased about being dragged into the conversation. “I did indeed host a discussion conference around that time in Yunping.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Now that I think of it, I remember it quite well. Your Yunmeng hospitality is well known for a reason – as is the potency of your liquor, of course. Really, who can say that they remember everythingthey did in the half-month we were all there?”

“You can’t seriously be claiming a prostitute’s bastard as your own son!” Jin Guangshan shouted. “Lao Nie, you have two sons already – would you dirty your ancestral line by throwing filth onto it? If your sons die, would you really risk a cuckoo stealing your ancestor’s blessings?”

Lao Nie’s smile faded into a scowl at once at such inauspicious words, and he started to look angry. It did not take a great deal to make a Nie angry, much less the Nie sect leader, and implicitly cursing his children to an early death was by far the fastest.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Lan Qiren asked, voice cross as if he were belatedly catching up with the conversation and was thoroughly annoyed about his own late entry to the party. “Well then, why not say he’s mine? There’s no line of succession to worry about with me. Everyone knows I’m only sect leader in the interim, waiting for my nephews to grow up and inherit their birthright.”

Wen Ruohan coughed into his sleeve, only barely bothering to disguise his laughter. “That’s true, Sect Leader Lan,” he said, his eyes curved up into one of his increasingly rare genuine smiles. “Of course, it would require you to have slept with a prostitute.”

Everyone took a moment to consider the remoteness of that possibility.

“As Lao Nie has pointed out, the liquor in Yunmeng is quite strong,” Lan Qiren said with dignity, though his ears had gone decidedly pink. “Who’s to say what did and did not happen?”

“Sect Leader Lan, you don’t drink,” Jiang Fengmian pointed out.

“How would you know? Do you check on your guests’ whereabouts after they’ve gone to sleep?”

“I – no, of course not – ”

“You know, out of all of us, Jin Guangshan excluded, the only one who is rumored to have bastards outside the home is Sect Leader Jiang,” Lao Nie put in, having put aside his anger and resumed his original expression of glee in destruction. “With that rogue cultivator, Cangse Sanren, was it? You brought him home just recently…and you know what they say, where there’s one there may be more. I nominate him as an equally plausible candidate.”

“Wei Wuxian is not my bastard –”

“Don’t just dismiss me out of hand, Lao Nie! It’s entirely possible that I could have –”

“I feel like I’m being overlooked here,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “One could argue that my surname Wen the most commonly spread out –”

“He’s obviously mine!” Jin Guangshan roared, silencing them all with his frenzy. “Look at his face – he’s got my nose and eyes! What is wrong with all of you?”

Everyone quieted down to look at the boy, who shuffled his feet a little in embarrassment.

“Why, so he does,” Wen Ruohan said, mild and poisonous as always. “Quite classic Jin sect features, if a bit more charming and delicate than the usual run of the line.”

“Unmistakable, I suppose,” Lao Nie said, giving a dramatic sigh. “Nothing to be done about it. Hey, boy! What’s your name?”

The boy blinked owlishly at him. “This – this one’s name is Meng Yao.”

“Yao, huh? What character?”

The boy told him.

“Auspicious enough, I suppose. What’s the current generation name for the Jin sect? Ru?”

“No, it’s Zi,” Lan Qiren said. “Together with his given name, it would be Jin Ziyao – I suppose that’s what you’re getting at, Lao Nie?”

“It most certainly is.”

“What are you talking about?” Jin Guagnshan demanded. “I’m not acknowledging him!”

“Really?” Wen Ruohan asked, demonic smirk appearing on his face as a perfect match to the one currently lighting up Lao Nie’s expression. “Isn’t that what you just did?”

“I – that is –”

“Are you really that set on entering the Jin sect, Ziyao?” Wen Ruohan asked, turning to look at the boy directly. “I assure you that you’ll have a miserable time of it. And by chance Wen Ziyao is a perfectly auspicious name –”

“Sect Leader Wen! You can’t recruit the children of other sect leaders like that,” Jiang Fengmian protested, looking thoroughly alarmed, possibly at the chance that Wen Ruohan might get it into his head to make that Wei Wuxian boy he’d brought home a similar offer. “Stop handing out your surname like – like some sort of party favor!”

Lao Nie cackled. “Oh, I like that! Like a party favor!”

“You can come study at the Lan sect regardless of your surname,” Lan Qiren told the boy, deciding to ignore the whole lot of them; screeching jackals and cackling hyenas, one and all. “We take guest disciples from every clan, and you wouldn’t have to give up the Jin surname to do it, either. Lao Nie’s eldest boy came to study with me just last year…”

“Now I’m starting to feel left out,” Lao Nie mused. “Hanhan gives promising people his surname, Qiren takes them as students, and everyone else has got bastards…should I set up some sort of adoption program?”

Jin Guangshan looked around at all the other sect leaders, each one smirking or smiling at his misfortune – even the normally placid Jiang Fengmian looked as if he were having at least a little fun at his expense, and Lan Qiren might not have an expression but his opinion on the matter had been made quite clear – and gritted his teeth. “Don’t be absurd, he can stay here,” he forced out.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jiang Fengmian said, and he sounded sympathetic. “Isn’t your wife the jealous type? You wouldn’t want to anger her any more than this will already…”

Lao Nie punched him approvingly on the shoulder.

“She’ll understand,” Jin Guangshan said, very stiffly and a little nervously; it wasn’t very believable at all. “It’ll be fine.”

“Maybe you should send your wife to visit Lanling for a bit,” Wen Ruohan remarked to Jiang Fengmian, clearly intent on pouring oil onto a raging fire. “She’s practically sisters with Sect Leader Jin’s wife, isn’t she? She’ll help calm her temper.”

“Sect Leader Wen, what in the world are you talking about?” Lan Qiren demanded, sounding bewildered. “The Violet Spider doesn’t calm anyone down. She’d only make things worse…ah, that is, no offense meant, Sect Leader Jiang.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I know my wife.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea, though,” Lao Nie said thoughtfully. “After all, someone ought to keep an eye on how things are going in the Jin sect if the boy stays, shouldn’t they? Make sure the boy isn’t being abused?”

“What?! How dare you imply -!”

“We did just see you throw your son down the stairs, Sect Leader Jin, and that was before he even had the slightest bit of cultivation to protect him,” Lan Qiren said icily. “A father may have control over his son’s life, but ethics demand that we not look away when there is the possibility of suspected abuse. A monitor seems perfectly reasonable.”

“But…”

“Would you prefer to have someone from the Wen sect monitor you, Sect Leader Jin?” Lan Qiren demanded. “I’m certain that Sect Leader Wen would not object to sending someone.”

“I most certainly would not object,” Wen Ruohan said, smiling. “In fact, it would be my pleasure.”

Jin Guangshan went a little pale. “That won’t be necessary, Sect Leader Wen.”

“You could have someone from the Lan sect go,” Lao Nie said. “They’re known to be honest. Honest and thorough.”

“We would be more than happy to host Madame Yu,” Jin Guangshan said hastily, clearly imagining one of the more censorious Lan sect elders following him around and commenting on his conduct. “Isn’t Sect Leader Jiang’s daughter affianced to my son already? It’d be an excellent opportunity for them to meet.”

“I’ll…pass along the invitation?” Jiang Fengmian said, sounding a little confused as to how things had gotten to this point. “I’m certain A-Li would be happy to visit Lanling.”

“Well, then it’s all settled, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said happily, clapping his hands purposefully. “Off you go, Jin Ziyao. I look forward to seeing you alongside your brother Jin Zixuan at the next discussion conference – my own two boys are half-brothers, too, but they’re as close as blood-related siblings. I have every confidence that you two will soon be the same.”

And I’ll have questions if you aren’t, his smile said.

“If you’ll all excuse me,” Jin Guangshan said stiffly. “I will go see to it that he’s properly settled.”

The moment he had left the balcony, everyone – sect leaders large and small – finally burst out into the laughter they’d only just barely been suppressing, all but Lan Qiren who was looking around with a slightly mystified expression.

“Congratulations,” Wen Ruohan said to Lao Nie. “You’re officially Sect Leader Jin’s opposite: he doesn’t take in any of his Jin bastards, whereas you adopt them into the Jin sect for him.”

“Good for me,” Lao Nie said, looking smug. “Me and Qiren, of course. Couldn’t have done it without him.”

“Leave me out of your nonsense,” Lan Qiren said.

“I will do no such thing. Hanhan, don’t you think Qiren owes us some more detail about all the prostitutes and drinking he may or may not have been doing behind our backs after we all thought he’s gone to sleep?”

“That was – that’s not –”

“Oh, to be sure. After all, I am certain that the Lan rules say ‘Do not lie’, do they not?” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes for once bright with humor rather than calculation.

“I raised a possibility!” Lan Qiren yelped. “A possibility!”

“Oh, I’m not getting involved in this,” Jiang Fengmian said, standing up with a grin of his own. “I have a letter to write to my wife. Have fun, Sect Leader Lan.”

“You did this to yourself,” Wen Ruohan told Lan Qiren, not even pretending to be sympathetic. “You know that, right?”

“Preserving life even at the cost of your own,” Lao Nie said, and pretend to wipe away a tear. “You’re so noble, Qiren, really…someone get us some wine! We have an experiment to conduct!”

“Lao Nie! Get your paws off of me!”

[nanaminokanojo]

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

CHARACTERS: Sukuna X You | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Maki | Fushiguro Toji | Baby Megumi | Megumi's Mom (OC) CHAPTER COUNT: 1/3 WORD COUNT: 8900+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | (eventual) smut | ooc sukuna | female reader CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity/strong language | alcohol use | cigarette smoking | age gap | unhealthy simping XD SPOILERS: N/A

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20210618]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.