␥ 🐚 ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. im black (nigerian) and occasionally write whenever i find time. im always welcome to being moots so feel free to just slide thru my ask box ᯓᢉ𐭩
summary: sukuna's a culinary student by day and soundcloud rapper at night. he's pretty popular in the scene and had a good amount of listeners. one of his guilty pleasures is indulging in your onlyfans page, late at night when he's pent up. one night when he's watching your latest upload, you make the sexiest sound he'd ever heard and just has to sample it in his new track. what happens when you catch wind of this song and use it in your next vid? cw: suggestive! (soft(ish) kuna ft. his cute cat zooter!!) *DAW is a music app.
wc: 2.6k || art creds: @/679sora || mdni || asked to write by @xoxolivvyyy !
sukuna’s been rapping on soundcloud since high school. he’s got what, maybe 12k monthly listeners? sure, he’s not massive, but the tatted-up man’s just fine with that. he does it for fun, not necessarily fame.
he’s got his airpods in, playing around with DAW, making beats and messing with the reverb on the latest bar he’d recorded. he’s got the lyrics done and dusted, the beat almost perfect, there’s just one thing missing and it’s seriously, seriously driving him insane.
he huffs like a child and groans, before slipping his airpods out and falling back onto his bed. zooter, his black and white cat, takes this as a sign to sit on his chest.
ryomen’s scowl quickly turns into the biggest, goofiest smile as he cradles the kitty in his comically big, muscular arms.
“aww. who’s a good boy?” he coos, scratching the back of his ear with one finger.
with his mood now improving and zooter jumping off his chest and onto the floor to sleep, the man decides it’s time to clock out and pass out.
only, when he gets all comfy under the covers, his cock decides he’s got other plans. an itch only you can satisfy.
well, not actually you, no.
but the sight of you? hell yeah.
you were taking over his pathetically horny brain as of late. the beloved onlyfans girl he’d fucked his fist to every night for the past three months. unfortunately, you were located hours away. (and yeah, he’s done the whole cross-referencing, stalkerish pinpointing off photos on your thriving instagram.)
so, even if you did the whole sex work thing, he couldn’t indulge even if he wanted to. he couldn’t fantasise about bumping into you on the street, or even interacting with you outside of watching your videos. so the best he could do was donate a little extra and make sure your views were up.
he took his phone and opened up the home page of OF. a new video pops up from your account just like he knew it would. it’s pathetic how well he knows your upload schedule, hell, he knew it better than his own class timetable.
he hits play as his left hand snakes down into his sweats, pumping at the thick, hard base of his cock.
the video starts with you yapping a bit about your day, showing the camera your new nails with a pretty smile on your face. sukuna smiles, this is why you were his favourite (and only) OF model.
you had a beautiful sense of style. your lounge room alone radiated that amber and deep red type of vibe, with candles and small, multi-tile stained lamps giving off the only glow of light. like kim kardashian’s old 2000s home, not whatever minimalist bullshit she had now.
sukuna fucked with it heavily.
you were always cracking jokes at the beginning, smiling like you were there with your hundreds of thousands of viewers, reminding all of them you were a person and not just a body for them to gawk at. that’s most likely why you were your area’s top creator, and why your comment section was significantly less disgusting than others.
you finish up your little spiel about your nails and begin to undress.
as you begin to play with your nipples, sukuna palms his cock in time with your movements, picking up the pace as your hand moves lower and lower and lower.
the video plays on, and he listens to your voice intently. you had brilliant vocal cords, was that weird to say?
he focuses on the tone, the adorable way your voice cracks when you get ahead of yourself. he’s pumping, pumping, when suddenly, he hears you make a noise so hot he physically jolts into his palm.
it’s a soft, sensual “fuckkk.” he feels his body light up with excitement.
this. this is what he was missing.
after he finishes up (ungodly nut, by the way), he cleans himself and hops back into bed. only, instead of shutting off his phone and tucking in, he reopens the video.
he plays the soft curse over and over again, until he can literally hear it morphing with the track he’s producing.
he smiles to himself, screen-records that section, puts it into DAW, and isolates the moan.
“god, i’m a fucking genius.”
~
two weeks later, you’re happily sipping on a sweating glass of rosé in your to-die-for city apartment, scrolling through your instagram dms.
you swirl the liquid in your glass as you skim through the horny guys, the overly passionate fangirls, and the scammy brand deals.
after replying to a few of your devout followers, a specific message catches your eye.
among the multiple “I LOVE YOU AND YOUR CONTEXT SO MUCH AH!!”'s and, “i wanna fuck you so bad…”'s you see a simple few words with a link.
@/hotoo.2929 hey, this guy sampled your voice on his song and it’s been popping off on soundcloud. -> https//ryo
“hmm.”
you click on the link (media literacy of a frog but fiwb) and the song starts playing.
you lean back into your couch cushions and let the slightly more intense beat than what you’re used to invade your ears.
the lyrics are clean, the beat is nice, overall the song actually slaps. but it’s the first few seconds that get you.
you could never mistake your own moan.
it’s expertly encased and mixed to blur with the audio, sounding like it was made to be a part of the track.
whoever wrote this has some serious talent, it’s giving metro boomin-level production.
obviously, you click on his profile to see what this guy is all about. if he was anything like his voice, you were expecting some guy in his 30s from the low decibel.
you see he’s made quite a few songs, none you recognise, but they have to be pretty popular with the amount of plays he’s pulling.
you click the link to his instagram in his bio, and surprise surprise, he was already following you.
upon closer inspection, you quite literally have to slap a hand over your mouth.
this guy was smoking.
he had two posts. one was a series of sexy, low-exposure gym pics showing off his insanely defined muscles, and the other was him with both arms wrapped around two equally attractive men, tagged @/toji.fush and @/cho.kamo.
he had piercings on his face and tattoos all over his body. yes please.
you bite your lip and follow him back, deciding to shoot him a message as an idea pops into your head.
@/y/n.baby: hiii! i love your new song so much, do you mind if i use it in the bg of my next of viddd??
sent✓✓
~
a few hours away, sukuna is in culinary class with the smell of scallops warm in the air. the chef teaches him and his classmates how to sear the seafood perfectly on a hot plate.
he’s been in a pretty sweet mood recently. after releasing your song (as he likes to call it), it’s been doing tremendously. he’s racked in 100,000 plays in two weeks. that’s like, crazy numbers.
as he’s locked in flipping the perfectly golden-brown pucks, his phone on the bench next to him lights up with a notification from instagram.
he briefly looks down when, wait.
“what the fuck?” he says loudly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he didn’t expect it to come out so brash, laughing awkwardly at his classmates who are now peering over. “shit, my bad guys.”
he puts his pan to the side off the heat and picks up his phone.
a message notification, from your username?
@/y/n.baby: hiii! i love your new song so much, do you mind if i use it in the bg of my next of viddd??
seen✓✓
oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.
ino, sukuna’s only close friend in cooking (all his other friends did business or finance, eugh. have some spice, guys), peeks over the larger man’s shoulder and lets out a laugh.
“hey man. isn’t that the chick you’re highkey obsessed with? you should totally say yes.”
sukuna lets out a disbelieving laugh and nods.
“yeah, yeah i should.”
@/ryomen.sukuna: hey, thanks so much. i don’t mind at all, sweetheart.
sent✓✓
@/y/n.baby reacted to your message with ‘❤️’.
~
like any man would do in sukuna’s situation, from that point on he obsessively refreshes your page even though he knows you’re not due to upload for another few days.
one night, when he’s playing with zooter on the kitchen counter, he feels a ping go off in his pocket.
he reaches in and pulls out his phone, only to see that the notification has finally come through.
@/y/n.baby has posted a new video ;)
oh fuck yes.
he gives zooter a kiss on the head and quickly scoops his gourmet wet food into his little personalised bowl (only the fancy shit for his baby), then rushes to his bedroom, locking the door behind him like he has a human roommate who could ruin this amazing moment.
flopping onto the bed, he pulls up the video and notices the runtime is exactly three minutes and thirty seconds. the same as his song.
he’s getting embarrassingly giddy over this for such a big, strong man.
he watches as you lean toward the camera as the song starts playing, your pretty face taking up most of the screen in the moody light of your lounge.
“hello my beautiful babies, i wanna give a quick shout out to ryo, who wrote this song in the background!” you lean back against your couch, then quickly move toward the camera again.
“oh yeah, i forgot to mention he even sampled my voice in this track! everyone should go stream!!”
the grin on his face is so big he feels his cheeks start to ache. you were seriously so adorable.
normally, this is where he’d pull out his cock and start stroking in time with your movements, but he can’t. all he can do is stare in awe at your body moving with the rhythm of his song.
he watches your smile widen when you hear your part, like it makes you genuinely happy that someone put so much effort into incorporating your voice into something.
letting out a disbelieving laugh, he pays close attention as you grab a red toy and start fucking yourself on it for the camera.
yet, today he’s not as focused on the act. he’s in shock at how you seem to be getting off on the sound of his bars.
every time his lyrics float through the air, you speed up with the track, and it drives him wild.
he’s harder than he’s ever been, but he can’t do anything except watch.
the video ends when his song finishes, right after you blow a kiss to the camera. one that strangely feels very directed at him.
was he probably delusional and parasocial? yeah. but he doesn’t give a fuck.
sukuna stays still with the phone resting in his lap, the screen dark.
holy fuck.
you made a video to his song.
and not just used it, but borderline got yourself off to the beat.
he drags a hand down his face and stares at the ceiling for ages, then exhales a laugh that’s stunned and giddy all at once. his chest feels too full, like he needs to do something with it or blood will start pumping out of his pores.
he sighs and opens instagram. your conversation is pinned at the top of his dms, he keeps it there because scrolling down started to get annoying when he wanted to reread it (pathetic, he knows).
he opens it and contemplates texting you again, sending some suave line that’ll probably weird you out. was he being creepy?
he pushes the thought aside and bites the bullet.
fuck it.
he sends not one, but two messages. what a brave boy.
@/ryomen.sukuna: hey, really digged the new video, sweetheart.
after a second, he adds the other.
@/ryomen.sukuna: and thanks a bunch for using my song 🖤
okay, when the hell did he ever use hearts? when was he this polite? you were seriously screwing with his head.
he almost chokes when your reply comes thirty seconds later.
@/y/n.baby: hey, thanks so much!
it’s so simple and sweet. he smiles before he can stop himself, shoulders loosening a little.
then another message pops up.
@/y/n.baby: i loved the sound of your voice while i was touching myself 🙈
oh.
oh wow.
his cock starts to throb like never before. he stares at the message like a seagull eyeing your chips.
his whole body feels hot and sweaty. his thoughts plunge straight into horny fantasy.
he types, deletes, types again, deletes, types.
@/ryomen.sukuna: oh yeah?
real creative, ryomen.
@/y/n.baby: yesss!!
@/y/n.baby: but you know
@/y/n.baby: i could really use the real thing, yfm ? 🙈
his mouth opens and he almost moans.
you can’t be serious.
his fingers dance over the keyboard as his face somehow heats up more.
@/ryomen.sukuna: you’re such a tease.
sent.
three dots appear instantly.
@/y/n.baby: [address]
@/y/n.baby: [time]
he stops breathing.
then chokes like a loser.
the phone lowers as he stares at the off-white wall across from him, suddenly the most unreal thing he’s ever seen. his thoughts completely stall out.
this can’t be real.
two weeks ago he was losing his mind over a missing piece in a track. now the song is climbing the charts like crazy, you made a video doing yourself to it, and now he was staring at your actual address sitting there as a hook up invite.
what the fuck is his life.
he takes a deep breath and types,
@/ryomen.sukuna: i’ll be there.
sent.
a second passes.
then you like the message.
oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.
another notification pops up, this time an image?
he opens it curiously.
it’s you, dressed in a lingerie set that makes your body look unreal. it’s the same shade of pink as his hair. fuck, was that on purpose?
you’re lying on your stomach with the camera angled just right so he can see your ass. you’re throwing up a peace sign with that pretty smile you always wear.
the photo is captioned in the bottom right corner: can’t wait.
he drops back onto his bed like his legs give out, phone clutched to his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, a wide grin pulling across his face.
he lets out a long groan that's kind of also a laugh.
what the fuck.
what the fuck?
this was never part of the plan.
he was supposed to finish a song, maybe post it, maybe get a few extra plays. not this. not you.
he finally sits up, runs a hand through his hair, and lets out a quiet laugh that sounds more awed than amused.
“guess i found the missing piece,” he mutters to nobody.
his phone lights up again in his hand, your photo still open, pink fabric and that smile burned into his brain. he locks the screen, sets it face down on the mattress, and stares ahead with a grin he can’t get rid of.
