Just wanted to let you guys know that there are two pages on this app that like to troll and make very degrading stories about black readers! @/suckmuballs and @/whotookmynameareuserious these are two little white girls pretending to be black, who are MINORS.
For starters, im a black girl myself in case you guys didn’t know that. I find this very disrespectful and this is not my first time encountering something like this on an app built around community. So if you support me and follow me and you happen to find their accounts “funny”???? Please feel free to block me or message me to have yourself removed.
I don’t play that weirdo and disrespectful shit, it’s not cool and I don’t fuck with it. It’s 2026 and we’re still making trolling pages and lying out our age AND race to tear down another just because black girls and boys come on here and have to request for things to be inclusive. These are minors. Report them, do whatever. PLEASE SPREAD AWARENESS & REPOST‼️‼️
I haven’t seen any big accounts spreading awareness on this topic so please. Thank you guys, that’s all.
Tagging some of moots to spread the message and deal with this disgusting behavior: @mooniesmoochies, @jellywrites1218, @aizawash0e, @neverstopthekashh, @liliacsdelight no pressure only getting the message around.
This is sickening behavior, who is doing the raising of children like this? I'm honestly disgusted, these people need to get lives.
to even have the AUDACITY to first take your time and energy to hate like this is crazzyyyyy! like please go do your algebra homework, get a job or a life🙏🏾 maybe an education if available
to be this obsessed with a race to the point where you research and carefully implement stereotypes against said race nd make whole fics revolving around them.. u acc have to be mental to do this
soft sukuna's had his eye on you ever since you joined his chemistry class. after crushing on you for months on end, he finally plucks up the courage to ask you out on a star gazing date for valentine's day ! 💘 apart of my valentine's day event !
a thought very prominent in ryomen sukuna's mind as of late.
chemistry class used to be such a drag, he'd show up, do absolutely no work, complain that he failed to all of his fratty friends, then do it all over again the next semester.
until, of course, you joined his line.
you were the picture perfect example of a shy, nerdy girl. with your clothing an array of soft colours and vintage hollister sweaters, your notes all neat and thorough, and your eyes always focused on the professor, you had him awe struck from the second you walked in.
it was a little strange, considering he was 6'5, 95kg of pure muscle, pierced to hell, and tatted from head to toe in fierce markings. you two seriously couldn't of been more different.
still, nothing enthralled him quite like seeing you every monday morning.
he'd started showing up to class early everyday to catch you on your way in, pushing the big, heavy door open so you didn't have to tire such pretty little hands. he'd started sitting in the row behind you instead of way up the back, just so he could watch the way you wrote so nicely.
he'd even started paying attention, proving to the assholes he left in the back row that he was smart when he applied himself.
answering questions in class became a regular, just so he knew you could hear his voice in a different sense than goofing off in the corner, or making bad jokes with his mates. he clocked the way you'd look over your shoulder briefly in surprise whenever he got stuff right, and his heart had never thumped faster.
so, after about three months of obsessing over a girl he hadn't yet spoken to, (not because he was nervous, frick no.) he'd decided with valentine's day coming up, now was a better time than any to ask you out on a date.
y'know, how normal people pursued a relationship, not the age old snap n tap method he'd been using since highschool...
so, with all the courage he could muster, a week before valentine's day he'd waited after class for all the other kids to filter out.
you always stayed behind to look over your notes, something he'd always admired about you was your dedication. as well as being admirable, it gave him the perfect slot to get you alone and finally pop the question.
he'd been rehearsing it in the mirror of his ensuite for the past week, it couldn't go wrong, it shouldn't go wrong! he had the perfect ratio of nonchalance and chivalry packed into his planned out attack, it just had to go smoothly.
he watches you from a few rows back, the lecturer had slipped away and it was just the two of you.
you can do this, ryo.
he pushes up from his seat before he stress too hard about it. the row of chairs creak as he steps sideways through the row, one hand braced on the backs so he doesn't trip over his own boots. this was supposed to look all suave and smooth, effortless, even.
it really, really didn't. he looked like an oaf.
he moves down the steps, eyes fixed on you where you sit looking over your notebook, flicking through the pages with your lips around the tip of a pen in concentration. fuuuck.
mind out of the gutter, ryomen.
he tells himself to slow down and walk like normal, he can't look like he's stalking up to you for any nefarious reasons.
but, as god would have it, by the time he reaches the last few steps you're already packing up.
no.
no, no, no. shit!
your pencil slides into your case, your notebooks shut, and your bag zippers get pulled shut. crap, he was supposed to catch you before that. say something casual while you were still seated so you couldn't escape.
instead, you stand.
he gets choked up halfway down the steps, brain going blank because this was not a part of the plan.
you swing your bag over your shoulder and turn toward the aisle, eyes down as always, clearly aiming for the door before anyone can corner you.
he sighs and books it, he's not acting all cool and composed anymore, no way. he couldn't just let you get away, he was desperate.
he takes the last few steps too fast, almost missing one, then strides down the aisle with a pace that borders on a jog. the sound of his boots slipping and slapping against the wooden floor echoes so loud he might as well have yelled at you by now. you glance up at the noise, looking all cute and startled.
you try to sidestep him in fear of getting in such a big man's way, but he panics and plants himself directly in front of you.
it happens in a split second. your bag catches against his hip, your stack of textbooks jostle loose, and multiple papers slide free like a magician’s trick gone horribly, terribly wrong. everything spills to the floor between you in a loud, humiliating cascade.
the dull sound hits him straight in the gut.
“fuck. i am so sorry.”
he practically screams that, he winces at himself immediately, hands lifting as if that fixes anything. you are staring at the mess, then at him, eyes wide and absolutely mortified.
“god, i didn’t mean to block you. i just, i was trying to—” he cuts himself off because explaining while your notes are scattered everywhere makes him look ten times worse.
he drops to a crouch, the floor is cold against his palms as he starts gathering all the loose pages, careful with the edges like they might and will tear under his big fingers. your handwriting is small and tidy, lines straight as if written at the edge of a ruler.
“shit, i’m sorry,” he tries to mutter a little softer than the ear rape from before.
unfortunately you decide to kneel down and pick up some stray pencils just as he shoots back up to hand you the papers, and your heads collide with a dull crack.
it is gnarly enough that he hears both it and the hurt little sound that hisses past your lips, more surprised than anything. you rock back on your heels at the contact, and that wincing look on your face smashes his heart smack bang in the middle with a wooden, spiked mace.
“oh fuck—” he hisses, reaching toward you instinctively. “are you okay?”
his hands hover near your temples, big fingers spread wide and ready to check your skin for a bump. he stops himself an inch away, since touching you out of nowhere is probably the worst possible move he could make at a time like this. you already look like you want the floor to swallow you whole.
he pulls his hands back so fast it almost looks like he got burned.
“sorry. sorry. i didn’t mean to— i just—”
jesus christ, get it together.
he smooshes a hand down his face, very annoyed at himself. this was supposed to be all smooth and simple. stroll up, say something chivalrous, then ask you out like a normal person.
instead he has assaulted you and ruined your cute little organized notes.
real charming.
you press your fingers lightly to your forehead, blinking up at him. “i’m fine,” you say quietly.
he doesn't believe you, that much is obvious. the spot he knocked feels fine on him, but you are most definitely not built for hard knocks like he is. guilt creeps into every pore of his skin.
“i should’ve watched where i was going,” he says, even though it was very much him who stepped in your path. he shoves the rest of your papers into a neat stack and holds them out to you with surprising care. “i, uhm... i didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
that part slips out honest.
you nod shyly, then take the papers from him. your nails brush his tough skin for a good second and it sends his brain haywire. it was insane how even the smallest of touches could make him shiver.
he straightens up, giving you space this time, forcing himself not to loom over you like a weirdo freak. the door is right behind him, and you glance at it, then at him. waiting.
he can feel the opportunity slipping through his hands again.
say it.
his mind supplies every rehearsed line he practiced and then promptly erases them. all that comes up is the image of you walking out that door and him sitting with this embarrassment for another week.
he swears at himself internally, vicious and relentless.
you had one job. do not mess this up.
“i wasn’t trying to block you,” he says, finally. “i just needed to talk to you for a second.”
you look up at him through pretty, fluttering lashes, blinking away some of the leftover pain before nervously nodding. “hm? what is it?” you murmur.
you were so shy, he could crush you with two fingers if he wanted. he meant to be gentle with you.
he takes a deep breath, then bends down a little, trying his best to be on your level. “i think you're really cute... y'know that?” he starts. “n' i think i could treat you real nice.” he chokes a bit when your face somehow twists into a shyer expression.
“jesus christ— i.. i would really, really like to take you out this weekend. i get that it's valentine's day, it might be a bit much right now, but i—”
“okay.”
“...what?”
“i... uhm. i said okay?” you repeat.
the smile this man cracks is embarrassingly cheesy.
“wow, sweet! that's sweet. i'll uh... can i get your number? shit— probably should've asked that first—”
before he can panic any further, he's ripped from his ramble by the heavenly sound of your soft laugh.
he stops immediately, a hand flying to his neck to rub at it softly as his smile grows tenfold. you're holding out your phone, your phone number displayed on the screen. “cool... cool...” he smiles, typing in the digits.
~
[ryo] 7:42pm: hey. how’s your head?
he stares at the screen with the nail of his thumb between his teeth, flops back against his pillows and then immediately sits up again... because what if that sounded too blunt? maybe too concerned? too much?
three dots pop up almost right away and he almost shits himself. you're texting him. right now. holy fuck.
[name❤️] 7:43pm: hi!! i’m all goods (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
[name❤️] 7:43pm: it was just a tiny knock!
he exhales through his nose, shoulders finally dropping.
[ryo] 7:44pm: tiny knock
[ryo] 7:44pm: i literally clobbered you with my thick ass skull.
he winces at the memory and it replays on loop. y'know when you do something so embarrassing and you just can't stop hyper fixating on it? yeah, that's what he'd been doing for the past two hours.
[name❤️] 7:45pm: it was kinda funnyy
[name❤️] 7:45pm: well, after the shock wore off kdkxjsjdj
he grins at that despite just cringing over it all a second ago.
[ryo] 7:45pm: yeah? didn’t look funny. your poor face was all scrunched up
he runs a hand through his slick hair and starts pacing now. his roommates are loud in the hall but he's shut his door, he needed quiet for this very important moment.
[name❤️] 7:46pm: nooo
[name❤️] 7:46pm: you just surprised me is all
[name❤️] 7:46pm: i’m okay, promise (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
that stupid little emoticon turns his ears a raw red, you were so dorky, it was adorable.
[ryo] 7:47pm: good.
[ryo] 7:47pm: wouldn’t be a great start to valentine’s day if i concussed my date.
he cringes after sending that. hmm, was that too forward? or too confident?
[name❤️] 7:48pm: noo it's okay, my head feels good!
he laughs under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
[ryo] 7:48pm: okay thank fuck
[ryo] 7:49pm: i know i'm a little rowdy, i mean obviously after that little display. but i can tone it down if you scare easy.
he bites the inside of his cheek the second that goes through. why would he say that? he's throwing.
[name❤️] 7:49pm: i don’t scare easy!
[name❤️] 7:49pm: i just… startle easy 🙂↕️
he imagines you typing that with your little nose scrunched trying to defend yourself.
[ryo] 7:50pm: noted.
[ryo] 7:50pm: i’ll try not to charge at you like a linebacker next time.
he sits at the edge of his bed now, phone in both hands. his heart will not calm down. c'mon. this is texting, he's done this a thousand times! it's just, with you? it feels so intimate and.. different. like he's whispering in your ear. maybe he was just a pervert.
[name❤️] 7:51pm: i appreciate that very much
[name❤️] 7:51pm: my poor textbooks would too
he groans quietly, dragging a hand down his face.
[ryo] 7:51pm: don’t remind me.
[ryo] 7:52pm: i’m still embarrassed about that
[name❤️] 7:52pm: you said sorry like… five times, it's fine!
[ryo] 7:52pm: wasn’t enough.
there is a pause. longer this time. he almost types something else just to fill the space but decides that might come off too strong and stops himself.
[name❤️] 7:54pm: it’s okay, really
[name❤️] 7:54pm: i only got a small bruise
his stomach drops.
[ryo] 7:54pm: you’re kidding.
[name❤️] 7:55pm: nooo it’s tiny
[name❤️] 7:55pm: wait i’ll show you
he quirks a brow at that.
show him?
a second later, an image comes through.
[name❤️] 7:55pm: {image attached}
you are sitting cross legged on a soft looking bed with a pale pink duvet and copious amounts of plush pillows stacked behind you. youre staring at the lens all smiley, giving an adorable little thumbs up to the camera. there's the faintest shadow of a bruise high on your forehead, barely noticeable unless you were trying to really look for it.
still, it guts him. or maybe turns him on, he can't really decide right now..
he actually makes a strangled noise in his room that's somehow a laugh and a groan at the same time. he stands up, and starts pacing again.
“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he sighs to himself.
you look so stupidly cute tucked into your bed with your hair loose and a sweet sweater swallowing your hands whole.
and you sent that to him. him!
he drops back onto his mattress, staring at the photo picking apart its every detail. like a loser.
[ryo] 7:57pm: you look fine.
[ryo] 7:57pm: cute, too.
his thumb hovers over the word cute before he sends it. too much? too soon? he sends it anyway.
[name❤️] 7:58pm: cute?? (///▽///)
[name❤️] 7:58pm: that’s not fair i look like a marshmallow
he laughs again.
[ryo] 7:58pm: i love marshmallows
he immediately groans at himself, that was so corny.
[name❤️] 7:59pm: oh my god
[name❤️] 7:59pm: what a line
[ryo] 7:59pm: shh
[ryo] 8:00pm: i’m tryna be suave
[ryo] 8:01pm: you really are okay though?
[name❤️] 8:01pm: yes sir
[name❤️] 8:01pm: it’s barely even there
[ryo] 8:02pm: don’t call me sir. makes me sound ancient.
[name❤️] 8:02pm: sorry, sorry. how old are you, btw?
[ryo] 8:03pm: a year older than you.
[name❤️] 8:04pm: you are ancient !
[ryo] 8:05pm: stop being a brat 💔
he winces at himself for that, maybe that was a bit too relationship-y... oh well, he could save it.
[ryo] 8:06pm: so
[ryo] 8:06pm: about saturday
[name❤️] 8:06pm: yeahhh?
okay he's locking in.
[ryo] 8:07pm: i was thinking i’d pick you up around seven
[ryo] 8:07pm: there’s this lookout spot just outside town. not a lot of people know about it
[ryo] 8:08pm: figured we could go stargazing?
he stares at the message, that sounded decent, romantic but not cringe, right?
[name❤️] 8:09pm: stargazing!
[name❤️] 8:09pm: that sounds so fun!
[ryo] 8:09pm: yess
[ryo] 8:09pm: we'll have blanket and snacks and no loud idiots.
[ryo] 8:10pm: promise i’m not taking you out there to kidnap you or anything
the second it sends he wants to launch his fuckass phone across the room.
why would you say that, who says that?!
three dots appear then disappear then appear again.
[name❤️] 8:11pm: HAHAHA
[name❤️] 8:11pm: that’s exactly what someone planning to kidnap me would say
he lets out a relieved laugh.
[ryo] 8:11pm: yh i walked into that one
[name❤️] 8:12pm: it sounds really nice though!
[name❤️] 8:12pm: i’ve never actually been stargazing before (๑°⌓°๑)
[ryo] 8:13pm: then it’s settled
[ryo] 8:13pm: first time for you. i’ll make it good
he pauses, then adds:
[ryo] 8:13pm: the stargazing. i mean
he buries his face in his pillow with a groan.
[name❤️] 8:14pm: i knew what you meant!!
[name❤️] 8:14pm: you’re so awkward it’s kinda cute
cute.
you called him cute.
he stares at that word until it feels hot branded into the folds of his brain.
[ryo] 8:15pm: don’t get used to that
he is grinning like an idiot in his empty room.
[name❤️] 8:15pm: awe man
there is something about the way you type that's so careful yet playful, he adores it.
[ryo] 8:17pm: seriously though.
[ryo] 8:17pm: i’m sorry again about earlier.
[name❤️] 8:18pm: awe sukuna, it's fine!
his name on your screen makes him jitter with excitement.
[ryo] 8:18pm: you can call my ryomen, if you want. or ryo?
[name❤️] 8:18pm: ooo okay! ryo it is.
[name❤️] 8:18pm: i promise i’m not secretly mad at you or anything, btw, so don't stress it
[ryo] 8:19pm: okay good
[ryo] 8:19pm: i’d hate to think my first move was almost knocking you out cold
[name❤️] 8:19pm: you’re being dramatic
[ryo] 8:20pm: i’m allowed, you have a bruise with my name on it
he lays back again, phone above his face waiting.
[name❤️] 8:21pm: well
[name❤️] 8:21pm: i guess that just means you owe me a good date 😊
he laughs out loud.
[ryo] 8:21pm: oh i plan on it
[ryo] 8:23pm: hey. can i get your socials too?
[name❤️] 8:24pm: sure!
[name❤️] 8:24pm: it’s @—— on insta
[name❤️] 8:24pm: and the same for twitter but i barely use that one 🙂↕️
he immediately opens instagram, types your handle in, and your aesthetic little profile pops up.
your smiling face looks back at him for the second time that night and he smiles just as big as before.
[ryo] 8:25pm: got it
[name❤️] 8:25pm: ur stalking me already?
[ryo] 8:26pm: absolutely
he switches back to instagram to properly stalk your page.
he's not thinking about parties or stupid hookups or whatever his friends are doing down the hall, no. he's dreaming about saturday. about you under the night sky and about him trying his hardest to not mess this up
~
pep talk time.
it's the day of valentine's day, and sukuna's standing in front of his mirror talking himself up.
you can do this, you're a sexy guy.
he's got his best looking jeans on, a studded belt, some nice sneakers, and a black beater. his jewellery matches for once, with his face an array of shiny silver to match his rings and chain.
he looked good, better than usual.
he could do this.
on his way out of the frat after getting good luck wishes from his brothers, he's up and out the door checking his appearance one more time in the reflection of his phone.
he pulls up to your dorm a little before sunset with the busty engine rumbling beneath him as he parks out front. he cuts it, but he doesn’t get out straight away,
he just sits there with the bouquet of lilies resting on the passenger seat, wrapped in brown paper with a neat little twine bow he tried desperately to tie himself. he'd spent half an hour in the florist with the old store owner picking out the perfect ones for the occasion, making sure they'd fit your personality just right.
he runs a hand over his mouth, then through his hair, then checks his reflection in the rearview mirror for the fifteen hundredth time.
“you’re fine,” he mutters to himself. “you look good. you’re hot. she already said yes.”
he grabs the flowers before he can stress even more about it and steps out, boots hitting the pavement.
the air’s cool and the sky’s all streaked with orange and hues of pink. perfect conditions for the perfect date he'd been meticulously planning. he leans back against his truck for a second, rolling his shoulders, then walks up to your dorm entrance.
he knocks twice, waits a minute, then almost fucking chokes at the sight of you, standing there in the doorway, framed by the warm hallway light behind you.
your outfit is this cute downtown girl kinda vibe that's short enough to show your legs but still loungey, very star-gazing appropriate. your makeup’s done all nice with glossed lips and pretty lashes. you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag, fingers twisting it nervously.
he stares in awe, his brain shorting out completely. he was prepared for you to look nice, not this good. jeez, were you tryna kill him?
“hi,” you say softly.
“hi,” he manages back.
red orbs drag over your being before he can stop himself. not in a pervy way. just… taking you in.
he clears his throat quickly and thrusts the bouquet toward you like he almost forgot he was holding it.
“these are for you.”
your face lights up. “oh wow…”
you take the lilies carefully, bringing them close to your nose.
“they’re so pretty,” you murmur, smiling up at him.
he rubs the back of his neck, shy himself. “of course... uh— you deserve somethin' pretty.”
your face grows hot at his flirt.
“you look amazing,” he blurts out before he can overthink it. “like— so pretty. just... wow.”
you duck your head a little, clearly very flustered. “thank you..." you start, "you look really good too.”
he grins at that, confidence creeping back in.
“yeah?” he steps a little closer. “told you i’d clean up nice.”
you nod shyly, hugging the flowers tighter.
“i’ll just put these in water really quick,” you say, stepping back inside.
he stands there awkwardly in the doorway while you move to a little table beside the entrance where a glass vase is already sitting. already filled with water.
he notices that.
you were expecting flowers? shit, he's glad he asked nanami for some first date tips earlier that week.
you slip the lilies into the vase carefully, adjusting them so they sit just right. then you turn back to him, smoothing down your top.
“okay,” you smile. “let's go.”
he offers you his hand without even thinking about it.
you look at it for a second, then place your smaller one into his.
it fits. perfectly.
he cups his fingers around yours gently, not too tight, and leads you down the steps toward his hilux.
he opens the passenger door for you, hand steady at your waist as you climb in. he shuts it carefully, then jogs around to the driver’s side.
once he’s inside, he starts the engine and peers over at you. you’re sitting there with your hands folded neatly in your lap, looking a little nervous but still harboring a smile.
“thanks for coming out with me tonight,” he says after pulling away from the curb.
you stare up at him. “of course. i'm excited.”
“yeah?” he asks, trying not to sound too hopeful.
you nod. “yeah.”
he relaxes into his seat a little.
“i’ve kinda wanted to ask you out for a while,” he admits with his eyes peeled on the road for once. he couldn't drive recklessly like with the other chicks he's used to, no. you weren't like that and he couldn't risk you thinking he was an asshole.
you turn toward him more fully now. “really?”
“yeah,” he huffs a throaty laugh. “i’ve seen you in class since the start of the semester. always sitting there so engaged.”
you giggle softly and he almost swerves. that sound hits him straight in his ridiculously fast beating chest.
“don’t do that,” he mutters under his breath.
“do what?” you ask.
“laugh like that. it’s distracting your uber driver.”
you giggle again, trying to muffle it this time.
he shakes his head, smiling. “you even made me start paying attention.”
you nod. “i noticed.”
“oh, you did, huh?”
“mhm. you started answering questions more, n' stopped sitting all the way at the back.”
he glances at you impressed for taking note of him.
“damn. you pay attention too.”
“i do,” you say proudly.
“well,” he continues, “you kinda inspired me. i didn’t wanna look like a total idiot in front of you.”
you blink at him. “you’re not an idiot.”
“good,” he says lightly. “i’m tryin' real hard not to be tonight.”
for such a big buy, he was shaping up to be more awkward than you. you could get used to this.
the conversation starts moving along quickly as you drive further.
he tells you about how he switched majors once before settling where he is now. about how his brothers at the frat drive him insane half the time and that he's getting a little sick of the party animal lifestyle everyone loved to glorify. about how he likes working out because it clears his head of the stress of life.
you tell him about your favorites, about how you almost dropped the class the first week because you thought it would be too hard.
“no way,” he says. “you? you think chemistry's hard?”
you roll your eyes playfully. “it’s intense!”
“you’re intense,” he shoots back.
you look at him like you don’t know if that’s a compliment.
“in a good way,” he adds quickly. “you care about stuff. that’s, like, rare.”
frank ocean plays quietly in the background while trees zoom past the window. he throws in a few dumb jokes here and there to keep you entertained, and you laugh at almost all of them. every time, he has to clutch the wheel tighter in fear of crashing.
by the time the town lights start thinning out and the road gets darker, you’re both talking over each other a little, interrupting, smiling, and laughing like you were already a couple.
he pulls into the lookout, gravel crunching under the tires. your eyes are wide, staring out at the open sky. the first stars are already visible like little flickering fireflies in the big black ink.
“wow,” you sigh, but he's watching you, not the sky.
“you like it?”
“it’s so beautiful.”
he kills the engine and turns toward you fully.
“sit tight,” he says softly. “i’ll get the tray ready.”
you nod and offer him a smile. “can’t wait.”
he hops out, heart racing for a whole new reason now, and moves to the tray of his truck.
he rounds the back of the hilux and drops the tailgate with a metallic clank that echoes out over the quiet lookout. you hear him shuffle around back there, the soft click of a switch, then another, then a string of warm yellow blinking to life.
“okay,” he calls, trying and failing to sound casual. “c’mere.”
you hop down from the passenger side and walk around the truck, hugging your arms around yourself against the cool evening air.
and then you see little lights. fairy lights. strung so prettily along the inside edges of the tray, looped around the bars in uneven lines that clearly took effort. a thick mattress laid out flat with layered blankets in different colors, big pillows (some with the tags still on them, bless his heart for buying the expensive ones for such an occasion) piled up against the cab. there’s a little wooden crate acting as a table with snacks stacked on top, chocolate, strawberries, chips, a thermos, even those stupid little heart candies that taste like chalk but everyone eats on valentine's day regardless.
you stand there in complete and utter awe.
“well?” he asks, suddenly very insecure and unsure, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck again. “is it… is it too much?”
you shake your head quickly. “are you kidding me?”
you step closer and trail your fingers over one of the fairy light wires, staring at the glow against the darkening sky.
“you did all this?”
“yes, ma’am,” he shrugs, but he’s watching your face so closely it’s almost comical how nervous he looks. “figured valentine’s day deserved something better than a movie and greasy takeout... not that i’d ever dream of taking you out on something like that! i just— i mean—”
“it’s beautiful,” you cut him off.
he stops and sighs so deeply. “thank god,” he says with a small grin. “took me forever to figure out how to make the lights not look so stupid.”
“they don’t,” you promise. “they’re perfect.”
he steps closer without really thinking about it, stopping just in front of you. the fairy lights reflect in his red eyes, turning them golden at the edges.
“may i?” he asks quietly, with his hands hovering near your hips.
you nod, and he smiles.
his hands settle at your waist and he lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all. you let out a cute, surprised laugh as he sets you gently onto the mattress. you flick your shoes off, then crawl back a little, getting comfortable against the pillows, smoothing your skirt down. he watches your every movement with a fond expression and climbs up after you, sitting on the opposite side at first, legs stretched out, bracing one arm behind him.
you tilt your head back and look up. the sky has gone fully dark now, stars scattered everywhere, more than you’ve ever seen on your light-polluted campus.
“the sky's so gorgeous,” you whisper.
“yeah,” he says. but again? he’s not looking at it. he’s looking at you.
the lights from the strings frame your face in gold and your pretty lashes cast tiny pinned shadows against your hot cheeks. your lips are still glossy, and he swallows down the thought of what it would be like to kiss such perfection.
you don’t notice because you’re too busy tracing constellations with your finger in the air. “i can’t believe you did this,” you say gently.
he exhales a short laugh. “i can’t believe you even said yes to me.” that makes you glance over, surprised. “hm? and why wouldn’t i?”
his eyes drop to his hands and he opens and closes them bashfully.
“i dunno. you’re just… you.”
you frown. “huh? what does that mean?”
he combs his thick fingers through his pink spikes.
“means you’re smart as hell. and sweet. and you actually care about stuff. you sit in class taking notes while i’m trying to remember not to fall asleep.”
“yeah? but you’ve started paying attention,” you remind him.
“because of you,” he says immediately. “that’s my point.”
you blink up at him as he explains further. he huffs, frustrated with himself.
“i just— i feel kinda outta place sometimes. being this… attracted to you.”
your heart stutters at that.
“attracted to me?”
he scoffs lightly. “don’t act surprised.”
you smile shyly. “i’m not acting.”
he leans back against the back of his truck further and nods.
“i guess you’re just… a little different to the chicks i’m used to.”
he thinks back to the amount of girls he’s hooked up with three minutes after meeting them. he can’t remember any names or any real conversations.
“they’ve all been kinda shallow. or maybe i’m shallow, i don’t know. but this is…”
you blink but you don’t pull away.
“but you?” he continues. “i’ve been sitting behind you in chem for three months trying to figure out how to ask you to coffee without sounding like a fucking moron.”
you laugh softly.
“it’s not funny,” he mutters, though there’s no bite in it. “i’ve never had to rehearse a sentence in my entire life.”
“you rehearsed?”
“mhm. in the mirror,” he admits. “today. for like ten minutes.”
your hand flies to your mouth to hide your giggle.
“that’s actually really cute.”
“don’t call it that,” he grumbles.
“why not?”
“because i’m trying to look cool.”
“you’re failing.”
he narrows his eyes at you, but there’s amusement in there somewhere.
you scoot your butt a little closer across the mattress until you're almost touching him.
“i’m glad you’re into me,” you say quietly.
“yeah?”
“yeah. i always thought you were really cute.”
what?
“what?”
you feel a little self-conscious now. “i just… didn’t think someone like you would go for someone like me.”
his head snaps toward you.
“what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
you look down at your hands. “you’re charismatic. confident. everyone knows you. and i’m just…”
“just what?” he presses.
“shy.”
“you think that matters?”
you hesitate. “doesn’t it?”
“no,” he says far too loud. “no, it doesn’t.” he corrects. “you’re the one who shouldn’t be into me.”
your eyes widen. “what?”
“yeah,” he says, getting worked up now. “you’re organised, you’ve got your life together. you’re probably gonna graduate with honors and get some insane job. i mean, i live in a frat house with idiots who think setting a couch on fire is peak entertainment.”
you giggle.
“i’m serious.”
“i know,” you say, smiling.
“i’m not used to girls like you,” he admits, voice dropping again. “girls who… don’t just want the version of me that’s all loud and risky at functions.”
you reach out without thinking and rest your hand on his forearm.
“i like you how you are,” you say.
“oh yeah?”
“mhm. the guy who ties twine bows really badly and buys silly fairy lights to make things moody.”
he looks away, embarrassed.
“shoosh.”
“no,” you say softly. “i really mean it.”
you scoot even closer than before, then lean your head gently against his shoulder.
oh god.
he's had girls straddle his lap five minutes after introductions. he has had hands in his hair and acrylic nails down his back, mouths on his neck without a single 'hey, how are you?'
and yet, something as mediocre as putting your head on his shoulder has him cheesing.
you look up at the guy. “you okay?”
“yeah,” he says.
“you’re really stiff.”
“i’m fine.”
you smile against his arm. “relax.”
easy for you to say.
he forces himself to loosen up, letting his shoulder drop slightly so you’re more comfortable. after a second, he lifts his arm and carefully drapes it around you. ok, getting bolder.
you tuck into his side closer happily.
he stares straight ahead at the horizon, trying to steady himself for what he's about to spill.
“you make me nervous,” he admits quietly.
“me?” you sound genuinely shocked.
“yeah. you.”
your heart jumps and flutters with all different species of butterflies, “yeah, why?”
“because i don’t wanna screw this up.”
your hand curls lightly into the fabric of his black beater.
“you won’t.”
“you don’t know that.”
“i do,” you say simply.
he looks down at you, “how?”
“because you care,” you answer. “and guys who care usually don't screw stuff up.”
okay, he guesses that was true. he hadn't tried this hard for anyone else, so it had to be why this was going so well and he hadn't totally fucked everything up.
the fairy lights glow around you, little reflections dancing over the blankets. somewhere far below, a car drives past on the main road, its headlights tiny in the distance.
“you’re seriously the cutest girl i’ve ever seen,” he says suddenly.
you blink up at him.
“i mean it,” he continues. “the way you get all serious in class. the way you correct the professor under your breath. the way you just—exist.”
you hide your face against his shoulder.
“stop.”
“no.”
“you’re embarrassing me.”
“good,” he murmurs.
you laugh softly.
“i’m really glad i asked you out,” he says. “i almost pussied out.”
“well, i’m super glad you didn’t.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” you nod. “i would’ve never done it myself.”
“why not?”
“duh. i thought you were out of my league.”
he lets out a disbelieving sound.
“that’s insane.”
“is it?”
“yes,” he says firmly. “if anything, i’m the one punching above my weight here.”
you lift your head. “you really think that?”
“i know that.”
your smile turns softer this time.
“well,” you say, settling back against him. “good thing we both ignored our own bad opinions.”
he laughs for the millionth time that day, something very out of the ordinary for someone like ryomen. “i guess yr' right.”
“hey,” he says after a while of just being in each other's presence.
“hm?”
“this is just our first one.”
you look at him. “first what?”
“first valentine’s day together.”
your heart grows ten times in size.
“first, huh? that's bold of you,” you tease softly.
he smirks. “well, i don’t plan on going anywhere.”
you smile and press a small kiss to his shoulder through the fabric.
oh god. oh god. we got a kiss boys.
his body's gone completely stiff. every. single. part..
"someone's all nervous again, y'know, ryo? you're really—hmph—!"
he cuts you off with a proper kiss, one smack bang in the centre of your lips with one hand tilting your head to face his, deepening it all.
as you're kissing back, his hands grip up on your waist. you reply by snaking your hands up his shirt against his warm torso, feeling each and every one of his rippling abs.
“not so shy now, huh?”
"what can i say... i'm getting comfortable." he laughs in reply, kissing you harder.
he moves his hips around, then grips your waist and lifts you straight into his lap like it’s nothing. you gasp softly against his mouth as you land there, legs settling on either side of his meaty thighs.
this kiss was nothing of the gentleness the first one had.
it’s much slower but somehow so much deeper.. he's got his hand placed at the back of your head, pushing your mouth against his rougher, the other holding you tight and snug against him. he tilts you just right so your lips press harder together.
you kiss him back just as eagerly, fingers pushing higher beneath his shirt, palms skimming over his pecs now.
he exhales through his nose, almost a laugh.
“best valentine’s day i’ve ever had,” he murmurs against your mouth.
you smile into the kiss.
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he says, nudging you gently until you’re both tipping sideways, down down down until the blankets catch your weight. he lowers you down, hovering over you for a second, eyes dark with want but still appreciative.
this date? complete win, go ryomen.
and as he leans back in to kiss you softly, the fairy lights glowing around you sparking long like a second set of glimmering stars, he knows he’s never going back to anything less than this. than you.
valentine's day with the cute girl from his chem was a complete success.
oh? you want to see what dates the other college jjk characters would take you on? then look no further! my valentines writing event has all you could ever need ! sixxels' valentines event masterlist 💘
this fic is good because you can read my frat!sukuna x shy!nerdy!reader headcanons AND oneshot as add ons!
All work belongs to @sixxels Do NOT repost, modify, translate to another language, or plagiarise in any way on ANY platform.
A lady’s heart is quick to ignite,
From a glance to a flame,
from a flame to delight.
From delight to devotion,
from devotion to vow,
She will not be wed without love to endow.
She dreams of a man who cannot disguise,
The truth that burns deep when he meets her eyes.
A man undone, who at last must declare,
The weight of his soul in a moment laid bare:
"You’ve bewitched me—body and mind.
No refuge I seek, no escape can I find.
Your gaze is a spell, your voice is a snare,
And I am content to be captured there.
I crave your touch, the shiver it brings,
The fire that awakens, the song that it sings.
Your hand in mine, your breath on my skin,
A world begins where our vows begin.
Let carpets be worn by the steps we take,
Let promises bind us, let none ever break.
No son, no brother, no title remains,
All else is forgotten, all else unchains.
I am not a lord, nor heir, nor son—
I am only yours.
And when the world asks who I am,
I will answer with one truth:
I am the man undone by your touch."
You’ve read the countless stories—messing with a police officer never ends well. Most couples break apart; some divorce within months. Still, that didn’t stop you from provoking Satoru, Chief of Police, the highest rank you could cross in the force these days, aswell as nepotism considering how young he was.
The first night you crossed paths with him was your friend’s twenty-first birthday—free drinks, cake, the kind of night no one wanted to miss. He was at the bar with his own circle, half-drunk, voices rising over the music as they laughed about things only privilege could afford. Then he saw you. The alcohol in his veins mixed with his natural arrogance, and suddenly he felt untouchable. In that moment, you weren’t just another face in the crowd, you were the final prize, the goal he couldn’t leave without claiming.
He walked towards you when you were alone getting another round for your table when he came over, maybe a little too fast and clumsily, because as soon as he was within a few feet of you he accidentally let his own drink fall from his hands, the cup immediately fell onto your new dress, the cold liquor soaking into your clothes almost immediately
"what the hell's your problem?" ouch, so much for his first impression
"can't get too mad at me, sweetheart" he murmured drunkenly, as he flicked out his badge, arrogance slickened within his words, never mind your own friends being somehow swooned over by his group of friends so no one coming to defend you anyhow.
"fuck you" you spat at him before you start to turn around to head back to your table, mood for the rest of night officially ruined and now wanting to go home.
He caught you back with words, "let me take you back to my place, and i can help you get out of those clothes, hm? I'll even pay you back for whatever the dress was and double it" His voice carried that desperate edge, arrogance fraying at the seams. You paused for the time he tried convincing you, torn between tipsy want and petty spite.
That’s what you were supposed to do at least, just go get another shirt to cover up and leave but, against all odds, you were laying in his bed and he was on top of you . His hands, impossibly gentle, traced the line of your body, learning the language of your shape. They skimmed the soft curve of your hip, the dip of your waist. Then, his palm cupped the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the fabric, and every coherent thought you’d ever had simply dissolved as he explored you.
He undressed you slowly, like unwrapping a sacred offering meant for the gods. The fabric of your dress whispered against your skin as he gathered it at your hips, his movements deliberate, reverent. With a final, fluid pull, it was gone, swept over your head and discarded onto the floor. The cool air of the room was a sudden shock against your bare skin.
His pupils blew wide, eclipsing the color of his irises with a primal, consuming darkness. The sight of you braless, your breasts exposed to the cold air hit him with the force of a physical blow. A low sound, half-groan, half-sigh, rumbled in his chest. It wasn't without question that within the moment, he thought you were the most perfect woman ever to lay in his bed like this, hair sprawled out and you looking straight up at him, lips parted and eyebrows slightly furrowed, sharp breaths coming from you as he groped a part of your body you were specifically sensitive in
He leaned down, his gaze locked on yours, and the heat of his breath ghosted over a pebbled nipple just before his mouth closed around it as your back arched off the bed, a silent plea for more. He took his time, lavishing attention on one, then the other, until you were writhing beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.
His other hand began a slow descent down your stomach, tracing the line of your panties. When the lace finally cleared your ankles, he didn't just drop them. With a flick of his head, he sent them flying across the room, where they landed immediately forgotten on the floor.
"I'm not gonna nut inside you i promise" he winked looking down at you, with a need that was already overriding his own good intention , his boxers were off a long time ago, he started off slowly, coming in inch by inch, you whimpered as you gripped his arms incredibly tightly, nails digging into his biceps leaving little reddened crescent shaped dips
"oh my god! satoru, pl..please wait" you cried out, it wasn't like he was going extensively fast, at least he thought he wasn't, your tight clit taking in his pretty pink tip as precum leaked out into you
Then suddenly he slammed his hips into yours, immediately your back arched in response as you let out a quiet yelp. Followed by a slow, teasing circle that made the intensity build to an unbearable peak. One hand left your side and pressed flat against your lower stomach, he grinds into you teasingly, one hand on your tummy wanting to feel the bulge as he presses down on it, tears forming in the crinkles of your eyes.
"That's my girl," he whispered, his praise a low rumble.
"I've got you sweetheart" His movements became relentless, a steady rhythm that left you no room to think, only to feel. And then you did. You shattered, a wave of release so powerful it whited out your vision, your back bowing as a cry was muffled by his hand. He didn't stop, guiding you through it until you were spent, limp and trembling beneath him.
and it felt so fucking good too
Only then did he still his hips, staying deep inside you, his weight a comforting anchor. He lifted his hand just enough for you to drag in a wet, shaky breath.
He kissed the corner of your mouth, a touch that was surprisingly soft. "You're not going anywhere," he murmured, a clear statement of fact. He rolled his hips once, a slow, deep thrust that made you feel every inch of him. "Not until I say so."
You’ve read the countless stories—messing with a police officer never ends well. Most couples break apart; some divorce within months. Still, that didn’t stop you from provoking Satoru, Chief of Police, the highest rank you could cross in the force these days, aswell as nepotism considering how young he was.
The first night you crossed paths with him was your friend’s twenty-first birthday—free drinks, cake, the kind of night no one wanted to miss. He was at the bar with his own circle, half-drunk, voices rising over the music as they laughed about things only privilege could afford. Then he saw you. The alcohol in his veins mixed with his natural arrogance, and suddenly he felt untouchable. In that moment, you weren’t just another face in the crowd, you were the final prize, the goal he couldn’t leave without claiming.
He walked towards you when you were alone getting another round for your table when he came over, maybe a little too fast and clumsily, because as soon as he was within a few feet of you he accidentally let his own drink fall from his hands, the cup immediately fell onto your new dress, the cold liquor soaking into your clothes almost immediately
"what the hell's your problem?" ouch, so much for his first impression
"can't get too mad at me, sweetheart" he murmured drunkenly, as he flicked out his badge, arrogance slickened within his words, never mind your own friends being somehow swooned over by his group of friends so no one coming to defend you anyhow.
"fuck you" you spat at him before you start to turn around to head back to your table, mood for the rest of night officially ruined and now wanting to go home.
He caught you back with words, "let me take you back to my place, and i can help you get out of those clothes, hm? I'll even pay you back for whatever the dress was and double it" His voice carried that desperate edge, arrogance fraying at the seams. You paused for the time he tried convincing you, torn between tipsy want and petty spite.
That’s what you were supposed to do at least, just go get another shirt to cover up and leave but, against all odds, you were laying in his bed and he was on top of you . His hands, impossibly gentle, traced the line of your body, learning the language of your shape. They skimmed the soft curve of your hip, the dip of your waist. Then, his palm cupped the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the fabric, and every coherent thought you’d ever had simply dissolved as he explored you.
He undressed you slowly, like unwrapping a sacred offering meant for the gods. The fabric of your dress whispered against your skin as he gathered it at your hips, his movements deliberate, reverent. With a final, fluid pull, it was gone, swept over your head and discarded onto the floor. The cool air of the room was a sudden shock against your bare skin.
His pupils blew wide, eclipsing the color of his irises with a primal, consuming darkness. The sight of you braless, your breasts exposed to the cold air hit him with the force of a physical blow. A low sound, half-groan, half-sigh, rumbled in his chest. It wasn't without question that within the moment, he thought you were the most perfect woman ever to lay in his bed like this, hair sprawled out and you looking straight up at him, lips parted and eyebrows slightly furrowed, sharp breaths coming from you as he groped a part of your body you were specifically sensitive in
He leaned down, his gaze locked on yours, and the heat of his breath ghosted over a pebbled nipple just before his mouth closed around it as your back arched off the bed, a silent plea for more. He took his time, lavishing attention on one, then the other, until you were writhing beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on.
His other hand began a slow descent down your stomach, tracing the line of your panties. When the lace finally cleared your ankles, he didn't just drop them. With a flick of his head, he sent them flying across the room, where they landed immediately forgotten on the floor.
"I'm not gonna nut inside you i promise" he winked looking down at you, with a need that was already overriding his own good intention , his boxers were off a long time ago, he started off slowly, coming in inch by inch, you whimpered as you gripped his arms incredibly tightly, nails digging into his biceps leaving little reddened crescent shaped dips
"oh my god! satoru, pl..please wait" you cried out, it wasn't like he was going extensively fast, at least he thought he wasn't, your tight clit taking in his pretty pink tip as precum leaked out into you
Then suddenly he slammed his hips into yours, immediately your back arched in response as you let out a quiet yelp. Followed by a slow, teasing circle that made the intensity build to an unbearable peak. One hand left your side and pressed flat against your lower stomach, he grinds into you teasingly, one hand on your tummy wanting to feel the bulge as he presses down on it, tears forming in the crinkles of your eyes.
"That's my girl," he whispered, his praise a low rumble.
"I've got you sweetheart" His movements became relentless, a steady rhythm that left you no room to think, only to feel. And then you did. You shattered, a wave of release so powerful it whited out your vision, your back bowing as a cry was muffled by his hand. He didn't stop, guiding you through it until you were spent, limp and trembling beneath him.
and it felt so fucking good too
Only then did he still his hips, staying deep inside you, his weight a comforting anchor. He lifted his hand just enough for you to drag in a wet, shaky breath.
He kissed the corner of your mouth, a touch that was surprisingly soft. "You're not going anywhere," he murmured, a clear statement of fact. He rolled his hips once, a slow, deep thrust that made you feel every inch of him. "Not until I say so."
Toji can’t hold himself back when you’re so soft wit him, his dick start to twitch uncontrollably at the very slightest innocent touch you do to him, almost losing his mind and trying his best not to take you right there and then.
Always in the mood for some kind of dry humping, it could be the most discreet in public where you’d have to swat him away to keep him at bay, he ends up grumbling under his breath and sulking like a whiny little kid but alas, at home there’d be no stopping him.
You’ve always wondered why, almost out of nowhere, he’d just pull you close, incredibly close. You could just be browsing through clothes and he’d just pull you close to him, not knowing he was just using you as a shield to cover his hard on from when you bent over to look at a piece of clothing. You’d think “oh he’s just being protective, that’s just how he is!”, “god, you’re so naive.” he always thought to himself.
He’s absolutely testing your obliviousness, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh, first he’ll start closer to your lower knee, then it’d move higher and higher ‘till he sees that flustered state you’d have on your face when it got closer to your inner thigh. That stupid smug smirk he does to you when he knows he’s messing with you and got you on the spot.
Sometimes, when you’re perched in his lap innocently scrolling on your phone, you don’t notice how still he’s sitting. You’re moving around slightly, and he’s grinding his teeth, dick throbbing under you, basically begging for you to ride it. You’ll finally ask, “You okay?” and he’ll just let out an obviously sexually frustrated grumble, “yeah, yeah.”
Whenever you stretch or yawn, your shirt just riding up a little, Toji will groan under his breath. You’ll think he’s sore or annoyed, but really it’s because you just flashed a sliver of skin and he’s painfully hard in his sweats.
Toji always positions himself so he can see down your shirt. When you both were dinner, on the couch, even when you’re leaning over the counter. He doesn’t even hide it. If you catch him staring, he’ll shrug and say, “What? Somethin’ on your shirt?”, you glance down, totally oblivious, while he smirking weirdly.
