todosdream

[todosdream]

I can fix that | ony

2.7k wrds. black fem reader. fluff.

warnings: cursing, men can be sucky, bluecollar!ony, flirting

pliers, pliers, pliers, you think to yourself as you search through the store.

about a week ago, the stream on your shower head started acting funny. at first you could just hit it a couple of times with the perfect amount of strength and it’d be knocked back into its senses. over time, the trick started to work less and less.

one particularly frustrating day led to a swing with too much umph in it, unfortunately knocking the thing out of commission. after a brief moment of frustrated silence, you decided to just replace it. you’ve already picked out the fancy massage shower head you want. now, here you are in good ‘ole home depot, searching for all the tools needed.

you’re roaming the aisles and trying to look like you have at least the slightest clue what you’re doing, even though your source of knowledge for the particular task at hand is just… well, the internet. it probably isn’t a good idea, you doing this yourself, but there’s no way you’re paying out the ass for something you can let youtube guide you through. hopefully you won’t make it worse. if all else fails, you can just continue to take baths for now.

“pliers!” you smile to yourself when you notice the rack. your smile slowly but surely dwindles when you realize just how many types there are up on the wall, the variation of colors and shapes immediately making you regret your decision. “what the fuck,” you mumble.

combination, flat nose, linesman… the list goes on and on and on.

before you can let out a sigh of frustration, you hear the agitating sound of someone clearing their throat behind you. “need help, little lady?” a voice calls, sounding almost slimey in its delivery.

you turn, top lip already itching to raise in irritation, but you see it’s one of the employees. the bright orange apron is an insult to your eyes, but it’s not as bad as the look on the guy’s face. “oh. um... yeah, if you don’t mind. I just need a pair of pliers to change out my shower head,” you say casually.

he hums with a raise of his eyebrow, eyes flicking up and down your form. it’s a judgemental gaze, very telling for how this conversation is about to go.

oh, brother.

“you sure you can do that all by yourself? pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to get your hands dirty,” he drawls, a smirk tugging at his lips. it almost makes you want to gag.

“I’m sure,” you say blandly. you definitely didn’t come here to talk to mr. greasy, despite his attempt. “I just need a basic pair of pliers. please and thanks.”

he doesn’t seem to like your tone, smirk falling as his ego is bruised. he must pull shit like this all the time. it’s a wonder his ass hasn’t been fired.

“well, I can’t just sell you anything basic, sweetie. that’d be doing you a disservice,” he tries again. he walks past you to the wall display, gesturing with his arms. you get a whiff of funk every time he moves. “these here are top notch. definitely what I’d recommend. there’s no way you’ll mess up.”

before you can give the nastiest eye roll manageable, a voice grumbles from behind you.

“aye, bruh, you can chill with all that sales shit.”

ony had approached behind you a few moments prior, several feet back as he waited for the two of you to move and stop blocking the wall.

his trip to the store was supposed to be simple. he just wanted to get a new pair of tongue and groove pliers, maybe some more bug spray for his home, and then get an icee from the gas station after working all day in the damn heat.

but here he is, sighing softly to himself as he listens to the worker attempt to ruin both of your days. he figured he’d put himself and you out of your misery.

when you turn to inspect the newcomer, who’s quite frankly saying what you were thinking, it’s like a scene from a movie. you can hear the imaginary music playing and everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion.

behind you is the finest man you’ve ever seen. dark skin, locs pulled up into a messy bun, bushy eyebrows pulled into a slight frown. he’s handsome, kind of like the men you’d expect to be in a monthly calendar of fine ass, hardworking beaus. light brown eyes, beard in slight need of a trim. his arms are crossed and big, covered in tattoos and small scars, and his form towers over yours. rugged but sexy.

“that’s what I’m supposed to do, sir,” the worker says with a tight smile. “is there anywhere I can point you to? I’m a bit busy helping this girl right now. as you can see.”

your gaze flickers back and forth, taking in both men’s demeanors. now, how did I end up in this? you ask yourself.

“nah. I’m good here,” ony responds with a shrug. his gaze is steady and doesn’t even shift your way. he stares down the employee with a calm look, seemingly unbothered. “this young lady don’t need you in her face if you gone be condescending. and she needs a basic tool for a basic job, not something she’ll have to spend big money on to use once.”

the worker’s eyes narrow, but before he can respond, someone speaks over the intercom.

“buford please report to aisle 13. buford please report to aisle 13.”

the worker, now outed as buford, huffs and crosses his arms. “alright, miss, I’ll be right back, okay? if this guy bothers you, just come grab me.” you give a tight lipped smile in response. “yeah, sure. thanks.”

with one last (supposedly threatening) look to ony, the employee walks off, grumbling softly under his breath. there’s a quiet tsk from the man still standing next to you, and he shakes his head as he watches the other retreat.

“sorry about that,” ony says with a nod in buford’s direction. his tone is softer now, but not overly so, and the strength of his gaze is now on you. it causes a warm feeling to bloom within you and a small smile to tug at your lips.

“yeah. being a woman means unfortunately being used to it,” you say with a soft laugh. “I’m not opposed to a knight in shining armor from time to time, though.” you tilt your head with the tease, a flirty sparkle in your eyes.

hm. ony doesn’t like that fact that you’re used to it, though he understands. but he does like the flirting tease from you.

his eyebrow raises as a smile crawls onto his face. such a pretty belle you are. and a fun personality is there too, he can tell. “I ain’t a knight, I’ll tell you that. but I can fix that shower head for you. if you want.”

“mmm, I don’t know,” you say, a playfully suspicious look on your face. “you’re still a man. don’t want just any stranger in my home.”

“I don’t have to be a stranger,” he smiles, obviously quite tickled. the action makes a deep dimple appear on one side, as if the man could get any finer. “but I do this shit forreal, I swear. here, let me getchu my card.”

he reaches into his wallet and pulls out a slightly crumpled business card, handing the item to you. you take the card and glance over it, noticing the lackluster design layout and plethora of services offered.

“interesting design. onyankpon, huh?”

“close. onyankopon, but I go by ony,” he says lowly, correcting your pronunciation. he tilts his head a bit, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “that face says you think it’s less than interesting. what’s ya name, pretty?”

“ᥫ᭡,” you answer with a smile. “the seems… slightly legit, I guess. I keep that thang on me though, so how about an exchange of services, mr. ony? I can design a new card for you. this is cute and all, but I can make it better.”

the idea is appealing to the man, but you’re where his full interest lies. there’s a teasing tug in the way you interact with him. he likes it. “a trade,” he says with a nod. “I can do that. I was fully ready to do it at no fee, though, darlin’.”

you shrug, face warming just a smidgen. “I don’t mind. keeps my skills sharp.” you pause, looking him up and down. “you are legit, right?” you question with a squint of your eyes.

ony chuckles then, rubbing at his jaw. “I’m forreal. got a truck with my name on it and everything.”

you hum and place your hands on your hips. “‘kay then. I don’t have to buy the pliers anymore, right? this place is a nightmare. spooky.”

ony shakes his head, dimple on full display with his handsome grin. you’re just too cute to him, all jokes and beauty. “nah. I do, though. ‘scuse me, ᥫ᭡.”

the sound of your name from his lips sounds unfairly addictive. you look up at him as he reaches over your shoulder, body close but not close enough. he keeps his eyes on yours as he grabs the pliers he needs, the scent of his cologne only adding to the experience.

gah damn.

the man gives you another charming smile as he steps back. “I have to go do another job in a few, but call that number when you wanna schedule somethin’. hope to see you later, pretty. don’t leave me hangin’, yeah?”

ᥫ᭡

“nice spot you got, darlin’,” ony murmurs as he walks through the doorway. it’s a cute sight, seeing his large frame treat your comfy home with so much respect.

he wipes his work boots on your doormat for a long moment, ensuring he won’t track anything around. he’s sure to adjust his work belt so he doesn’t budge anything. he’s looking around with rapt curiosity.

“thanks. took me a while to decorate how I liked, but it was worth it,” you smile. “c’mon, I’ll show you the bathroom.”

ony follows behind you, wondering if you wore the cute lounge outfit you have on for him. he intentionally keeps his thoughts respectful, but little does he know, you absolutely did.

he steps into the bathroom behind you, noticing the scent of jasmine and sandalwood from the wax warmer. your place is definitely a woman’s place in all the best ways, and he has no choice but to smile when he sees how cohesive the decor is.

“okay, darlin’. lemme take a look,” he mumbles. you step aside and wait with your fingers interlocked. after stepping into the shower and looking over the situation, he lets out a focused hum.

“yeah, definitely time for a new one. I’ll get this off real quick, you’ll be good as new in a few,” he nods. “where’s the replacement?”

“right here in the sink,” you point, happy to help. it feels like opening the door when someone carries a couch or something. like you’re not doing the hard work but still contributing.

ony lets out a warm chuckle, once again amused. you’re just happy to be here and he adores that. “good. you mind handing it to me when I ask?”

“nope!” you chime.

he shakes his head with a grin, dimple once again capturing your heart. he works efficiently for the next few moments, quickly dismantling, cleaning, and prepping. “alright, pretty,” he murmurs, holding out his hand.

you happily plop the replacement head into his hand and he takes it with a smile. “a lil helper, huh?” he asks as he easily completes his task. “alright. I just need to check for leaks and you’ll be good to go. easy peasy.”

“perfect, thanks so much, ony, I really appreciate it,” you smile. who knew a trip to home depot could kill two birds with one stone? free assistance with the shower and a fine ass man.

“no problem,” he chuckles. “just leave a good review on my site,” he winks.

“will do. five stars, I promise,” you grin. “I’m gonna run to the other room real fast.”

ony lets put a hum of acknowledgement as he checks over the shower head, vigilantly searching for leaks. you turn to exit, heading to the living room to grab the small cardboard box on your coffee table.

“what’s that?” you hear him ask from behind you. you turn and shake the box in your hands, enjoying the rattle. “your cards! you didn’t forget about our deal, did you?”

the man smiles as he crosses his arm, leaning on the doorframe. “I told you I was fine with doing it for free.”

“oh, well,” you roll your eyes. “c’mon, check em out. I only got a few in case you didn’t like ‘em.”

he hums as he approaches you, stopping just short of your frame to take the box from your hands. he lifts the lid and slides a couple out, eyebrows raising in surprise when he sees the new look.

“damn. this shit look professional as hell. I like the color too.”

“yeah?” you smile. “I made sure it looked as nice as possible, some color to liven it up a little. added your logo from your site. now you just need to keep them in something so they’re not rumpled when you hand them out.”

he chuckles in response and nods. “hell yeah. I like these much better, forreal. thanks, ᥫ᭡.”

“no problem,” you wave dismissively. it really hadn’t taken long at all. “service for service, right? I would’ve struggled with the shower, and no disrespect, that card was all over the place. misaligned, boring with no color. hope you didn’t pay the designer much.”

ony licks his lips and sheepishly rubs at his jaw. “mm. I was the designer, pretty.”

“oop-“ you immediately respond, laughing softly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that.” you did, but now you felt bad, so you feel the need to spare his feelings as much as you can. he probably tried his hardest.

“s’no problem. you were right. this is definitely an upgrade,” he nods, waving the card in his hand. he can’t be mad if he just doesn’t have the skill, and he never got around to paying someone to do it. “makes me feel all official and shit with my name on my truck and now this. I’d say this was a good trade. except…”

“except?” you ask with a raise of your brow. you were pretty sure you did a damn good job, checking several times that the design was crisp and typo free.

“except,” he starts, “I traded for you to redesign my card. not print them.”

you blink at him. “I’m missing your point? I told you I only got a few.”

he shrugs, twinkle of mischief in his brown eyes. “still paid for them. that’s technically a service and a purchase. it ain’t fair, y’know?”

“I mean, it’s not really a big deal…” you trail off with a mumble.

“ᥫ᭡,” he says warmly, looking at you with a dimpled smile and a tilt of his head. “I’m tryna ask you on a date. just go with it.”

you blink again before you have to fight a smile. cute. really cute. he’s fun.

“hmmm,” you start, tapping your chin. you’re playing the part now, and you have to admit it’s very amusing. “you might be right about that. s’not a fair trade. we should discuss this further.”

“mhm,” he smirks. “how about… dinner? my treat.”

you bite you lip and tilt your head slightly. “dinner and a drink,” you rebutt.

his smirk widens, a twinkle in his eye. “dinner and drinks.”

“you’re a bad negotiator. you know that?” you question, squinting playfully.

“I don’t know, I feel like I should throw in some extra for emotional distress,” he shrugs. “an unfair trade can be a lot to deal with, you know.”

you laugh and shake your head in disbelief.

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal, mr. ony. dinner and drinks, I’m sold.”

a/n: just a little meetcute :) get the title reference?

this is inspired by one of my text aus lmao. writing a lil everyday is kinda gettin me out this funk ngl. feedback always welcome and wanted <3

[todosdream]

boyfriend texts | ony

fem black reader. text message au. fluff. suggestive.

ony makes it a regular thing to come scoop you when he’s going for food. he knows you’ll be mad if he even thinks of going without you, but that usually means you picking where to eat

ony looooves taking off guards when y’all are on ft and posting them on his story. he has a whole folder dedicated to them (and also keeps them for blackmail)

when you’re living together, arguments can fuck with the vibe a lot. sometimes you need space to breathe but ony makes sure you know you can’t hold off on the much needed convos for too long

there’s a bunch of cats in y’all’s neighborhood that you like to leave food out for. soon the cats start to hang around and beg for food, much to ony’s dismay

whenever he gets a haircut, you’re the first to see

your laptop needs servicing and ony doesn’t like the way the servicer interacts with you while you show him the issues. after a few less than savory comments from ony, you put him in time out

a/n: I’m going through ony withdrawals 🫩

[todosdream]

love island addicts | ony, eren, connie

black fem reader. text message au. fluff.

you’ve been watching the new season of love island. now your man’s hooked too.

ony

eren

connie

a/n: another severe case of writer’s block has hit, but baby’s starting to work on consistency even if I can’t put out what I really want. bear with me. here’s a lil someee

[todosdream]

can I? | ony.eren (prologue)

10.6k wrds. flashbacks. angst.

warnings: bi!ony, bi!eren, miscarriage mentioned, sickness/death mentioned (minor character), grief, eren has a learning disability, and a potty mouth, repression issues, cursing, weed smoking, dealing with self-worth/comparison

a/n: the story of our boys before their lady is introduced. hope you enjoy <3

you can touch my heart and soul,

as well as my body, if you please.

the story of the sun and moon,

joined by both fate and destiny.

amari can barely hold her excitement in as she waits for her friend to arrive at their favorite cafe. the lighting is soft and welcoming and the smell of coffee grounds reminds her of all the times she’s sat in this very booth, either alone or with company. her husband chuckles and softly rubs her back as she all but dances in her seat, happy to be home, happy to see her friends.

he’s watching her with those eyes she loves so much, the ones that see her clearer than anyone else. his admiration for his lady is palpable from the other side of the room, eyes holding his heart and soul as he gazes at the embodiment of love and joy. “I love yo’ lil ass, you know that?” he asks fondly.

the woman smiles and leans into him, softly cupping his jaw as she presses a kiss to his cheek. then another and another because there’s nothing that could ever keep her from showing her love, not a person or location. “you better,” she grins, eyes lifting to meet his. “hate to bring a giant down in front of all these lovely people.”

armond’s head tilts back with laughter. he *loves* his wife, adores everything about her. especially her sense of humor and tendency to threaten. establishing dominance, he guesses.

“yeah, okay, love. look, here they come,” he says as he nods his head at the door. entering the cafe are carla, amari’s closest friend, along with her husband grisha. the doctor lightly presses on carla’s back to encourage her to sit while he places their order.

amari squeals and stands, holding her arms out to welcome the woman. it takes no time for the two to come together in the tightest hug known to man, swaying side to side dramatically as their jewelry jingles and clinks.

“oh, I missed you!” carla gushes as she squeezes her best friend. “tell me everything and don’t leave a single detail out!”

amari tugs carla to sit at the table, and after carla and armond exchange hugs and greetings, they all gather in their usual corner. grisha joins as amari begins the top to bottom story of her and armond’s most recent travels. she talks about the welcoming people, the beautiful culture, the water that stretched beyond what the eye could see.

her husband watches her with a tender gaze as he lets her talk, chiming in to remind her of small happenings she might’ve forgotten. the group is in their own bubble as they listen to her, her shine even brighter than normal.

“and…” she begins the ending of the story by lifting a bag that was previously hidden under the table. she slides it towards carla with a big grin on her face and the woman just rolls her eyes with a grin. “you better have gotten me a small gift this time. I’ve run out of space for all the souvenirs you’ve brought back!”

amari just bites her lip and pushes the bag closer, armond hiding his grin in his wife’s curls as they watch the other couple. carla digs in the gift bag and pulls out a piece of cloth.

her eyebrows furrow. amari usually doesn’t buy her clothes because carla’s quite picky.

her eyes widen and her jaw drops when the cloth unfurls. it’s a onesie with the words ‘you can stop asking now’ in cursive.

“shut. up. you are not!” carla beams.

amari and her husband nod with excitement in their eyes. they’d already privately decided that after this trip they’d be ready to welcome a bundle of joy. turns out said bundle was baking the whole time.

“yes, ma’am! we’re pregnant!” amari laughs joyfully.

carla wants to reach across the table and shake the woman with how excited she is. she doesn’t know what to do first, cry or scream or run outside to yell “finally!” even if it scares the people on the street. she’s going to be an auntie, and she’ll be spoiling this baby with all the love she can give.

well… as much as she can.

she and her husband look at each other with something in their eyes. “this is insane,” grisha chuckles in amazement. he nods his head at his wife in encouragement.

“what, what’s happening?” amari asks. she was expecting a big reaction, and although she can see the excitement in the other woman’s eyes, she’s surprised at how frozen they are. carla just purses her lips as she places her own gift bag on the table. she covers her mouth, speechless.

the two stare at each other.

“…you’re kidding,” amari mumbles, eyes widening. carla just shakes her head, tears building in her eyes.

after years of trying, an angel sent to heaven before they could bless the earth, and so much disappointment, carla is finally pregnant.

“we- we waited before saying anything. just to make sure nothing happened. but the baby is completely healthy and we’re so blessed,” carla sniffles. it was hard to keep the secret, but they just couldn’t take another round of what happened last time. bagging up all of the things they’d purchased in preparation, breaking the news to family and friends, dealing with a loss they’d prayed to never experience.

amari briskly stands and walks straight to her best friend. she takes the woman into her arms as her own eyes start to leak. “holy shit, carla. oh my God. I’m so happy for you, love.”

grisha and armond look at each other, communicating silently. the whole table is in shock, neither couple expecting the other’s news. there are blessings overflowing.

the two best friends are crying in each other arms, hug lovingly tight as they both absolutely ruin their makeup.

”I can’t believe it, mari,” carla sniffles. “I can’t believe it. we’re gonna be mommies.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” amari murmurs. little ony just won’t stop crying no matter how much she rocks him. he’s fed, changed, and just had his nap. she’s hoping nothing’s wrong with her baby boy, but her nerves are so frayed from the day.

her back hurts and her head is starting to show signs of an oncoming headache, but she perseveres. “c’mon, baby. what’s wrong?” she coos. “mommy’s right here. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

she jumps a bit when a hand starts to softly rub her back. she didn’t even hear her lover return home from work in all the noise and exhaustion, but as he pulls her into him, it soothes her in a way no one else can.

“I got it, sweetheart. why don’t you take a rest, hm?” armond asks tenderly. amari frowns with worry as she leans closer to her lover, her husband gently taking their son from her arms. she feels inadequate, like a bad mom. frustrated with her own incompetence, exhausted from the day and her sweet baby boy.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” she murmurs. “I’ve done all the things, but he’s so upset and I don’t know why.”

armond places a sweet kiss to her forehead, then ony’s. “he’ll be just fine. you’ve done so good, you know that, right? you’re a great mommy, honey,” he mutters reassuringly. “lil man’s just fussy. go lay down and don’t get up until you feel rested. you let me know if you need anything and I’ll take care of it.”

amari sighs and rests her forehead on his shoulder for a moment. he’s her rock, her everything. she doesn’t know what she’d do without him. days like this, he’s like a cool breeze in the middle of june. “okay,” she answers softly. “I just- I wish I could calm him.”

“baby,” armond smiles down at his lover. reassuring, loving, soothing as always. “you gave birth to him. you take care of him. but you’re not doing this alone. I’m here for both of you. go rest up, mama.”

amari lets out a breath, shifting to rest her cheek against his bicep. her face is all cute squished against him like this, like a pouty little chipmunk. “I love you so much,” she says softly. armond hums as he presses another kiss to her forehead.

“I love you more than I can express. now go lay down, mister man done stressed my baby out.”

amari places a kiss to ony’s cheek, then her husband’s before heading up to their shared bedroom. she gets cozy on armond’s side of the bed to immerse herself in his scent, snuggling into the soft fabric. sleep immediately begins to welcome her after such a tough day, her body weak and mind tired.

before she dozes off completely, she hears ony’s cries start to subside in his father’s arms.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“alright, eren. if I have to change your diaper again, you’re sitting in the tub,” carla huffs as she sits with said boy in her lap. the boy, only seven months, just laughs and reaches for her hair.

amari snorts as she burps little onyankopon. “good luck with that. he’ll just be sittin’ and shittin’,” she chimes in. the little carla look alike is already showing signs of being more than a handful, but he’s just so cute and goofy and loveable that it almost excuses all of it.

ony’s a much more mild-tempered baby, though he does cry a lot. he’s a velcro baby through and through, always wanting to be in someone’s arms. all he has to do is pout his little lip and everyone in the room comes running with open arms. the two have adorable little personalities already and it’s hard to believe that they’re going to be watching two little humans that they birthed grow.

if carla and amari thought they were bonded before their little ones were born, they’re practically attached at the hip now. learning and experiencing motherhood together makes it just a bit easier to get through the tough moments, so they spend a lot of time together. it helps that they’re babies are only a couple months apart.

the two are sitting in amari’s living room with ms. rachel playing softly in the background. eren’s had his diaper changed for the nth time, and now he’s babbling nonsense as he reaches for his baby colleague. amari turns just slightly to where ony, currently on her shoulder, can see him.

“careful, baby,” carla mutters as eren tries to get closer. ony is staring wide eyed in wonder as carla’s mini-me reaches for him, grin on his face and babbles falling from his lips. ony lets out little sounds as he watches, a smile crawling across his chubby face. he squeals excitedly and starts to reach back.

“we made the cutest babies to ever live,” carla coos, eyes watering as she watches the two experience life through their little eyes. she’s so blessed to have her eren, so grateful that the two get to grow up together.

amari’s already imagined it all. they’re going to be close just like their moms are, always having a friend to lean on and have through life’s ups and downs. she’s excited to be able to have a front row seat for it all. “they’re literally gonna be best friends,” amari giggles.

“they have to be. that’s the only thing I’m forcing on this child,” carla snickers.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“eren, do not climb on that!” grisha scolds, lifting the young boy into his arms. the duo is waiting for armond and ony outside of the zoo and eren’s excitement for the day is high. so high that he needs an outlet now, and grisha can barely keep up. the little gremlin is always giving him a run for his money, and most times he can’t help his laughter.

he’s glad he brought the backpack leash, as embarrassing as it is.

eren starts to wriggle around in his father’s grip, tantrum imminent, but grisha can see armond walking up with ony in the distance. he sets his son down, maneuvering the backpack onto his body because he knows the little trickster will try to take off as soon as he sees his friend.

“you lockin’ lightning up?” armond calls out with a teasing grin, using the nickname he gave eren. they’re still a good few feet away and eren starts to pull against the backpack leash as he reaches for them. “set that lil man free!”

“can’t do that,” grisha chuckles as he watches his overexcited son. “not unless you want to chase after him all day. maybe say hi to the lion when he climbs the fence?” armond just snickers in response and pats the other man’s shoulder.

“rennie!” ony grins, barely being able to pronounce his r’s with his speech impediment. the two fathers watch as eren lets out some type of war cry before charging to hug ony tightly. with all of his energy, the brunette tries to lift the smaller boy in his arms. it’s a struggle because of his lack of strength.

“eren, be careful,” grisha chastises. him and carla are a bit overprotective as parents, especially after losing their first. it doesn’t help that eren’s got the energy of five kids. “did you even ask if you could do that?”

eren just pouts and hugs ony closer. as far as his little brain can comprehend, ony is his. if he wants to lift him, ony’ll let him. “my friend!” eren responds, tugging the other boy closer. ony smiles and throws an arm over eren’s shoulder. “best friend,” ony grins.

it’s adorable how close they are, precious even, but they need a bit of correction.

“I got it, grish,” armond chuckles, placing a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. it takes a village to raise a kid, and he never minds stepping in. “hey, boys, lemme talk to y’all real quick, yeah?”

the boys watch as armond crouches in front of them. “first, you have to be careful, okay? you don’t wanna get hurt or hurt someone else. I know you two are friends, the best of em all, but you still have to respect each other,” armond smiles warmly. “also, asking for consent is asking for permission. it’s very important because everyone can say ‘no.’ maybe they’re not feeling good and don’t wanna be touched. you guys understand that?”

he gets two cute little nods in return, eren pouting a bit because he feels like he’s in trouble. he just got excited, that’s all. little ony holds him tighter, hoping to hug his sadness away.

“hey, it’s okay, lightning. just be careful from now on,” armond ruffles the young boy’s hair. “just think of it this way: when you’re with someone you care about, they should get the most respect you can give ‘em. that means everything you do and say matters, even the smallest thing. it’s how you show you care and think about their feelings. you get me?”

the boys nod dramatically, always all ears when it comes to armond’s words of wisdom.

“good. gotta raise you boys right,” he grins. “now let’s go see some stinky animals.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“ony-ony!” eren gasps when he sees a car pull up into his family’s driveway. he’s been looking forward to having a playdate with his friend all week and he’s finally here! the little tike can’t help but giggle and bounce in excitement as he watches mrs. amari open the back door to her car.

carla smiles as she watches her son bounce around in excitement, the flopping of his hair a reminder that it’s definitely time for a haircut. she softly cards her hand through his strands and laughs to herself when he ducks her touch.

“mooom, stooop!” he whines. eren calls himself fixing his hair, his small hand ruffling the brown tresses, but it only looks worse. “ony-ony’s here! I get to show him my new toy, right? he’s spending the night, right?! how long is it gonna take them to walk to the door?” he rambles dramatically.

“relax, honey,” carla laughs. “they’ve got to get all of his stuff. and of course you can, you’ll have allll night to play together.”

she waits patiently as amari grabs ony’s bags, but she notices how her friend seems to be almost sullen. carla’s brows furrow momentarily, but she writes it off as the woman just being tired. she'd asked for ony to sleep over to “catch her breath,” so maybe she just needs some time.

the door opens when the two finally approach and both moms watch as eren almost jumps on little ony. he stops himself, always keeping armond’s words in mind, but ony grins brightly and opens his arms wide. eren grins and hugs his friend tight. “you’re finally here!” he cheers. squeezing his friend tight. ony laughs and hugs eren back just as tight. “hi, rennie, I missed you! hi, mrs. c!”

“awww, hi, ony,” carla smiles fondly as she watches the two. she can’t fight her motherly excitement, whipping her phone out and snapping picture after picture. “say cheese, you two!”

the two smile brightly, showing off their matching missing teeth. carla feels her heart squeeze at how adorable the two little best friends are, a reflection of her and her own best friend. ”so cute,” she coos as she looks at the photos. she’s definitely getting those blown up and framed.

carla hears a chuckle from below and looks down to see amari taking little ony’s shoes off. her curls are a bit flatter today, not as springy or vibrant, and it matches her weakened emotional state.

something’s definitely off with her friend, but she can tell amari’s putting on a brave face.

“hi, rennie. you lost a tooth too, huh?” amari smiles softly. usually, she’d be ruffling the kid’s frenzy of brown hair, maybe holding him upside down to make him laugh. her soft greeting doesn’t register as anything different to him in his exuberance. eren nods frantically, holding ony’s hand in his. “mhm! same tooth on the other side, see?” he smiles big and bright, and sure enough, both boys are missing their canines but on opposite sides.

she takes ony’s shoes and lines them up against the wall before patting her son’s head. “you two are so connected, hm? just precious. go on, I know y’all wanna play and talk about all the things,” she laughs. ony smiles up at his mom, rushing forward to give her a really tight squeeze. tighter than normal.

eren beams at his friend. “come on, I wanna show you my new stuff!” before ony can respond, he’s being dragged away by his unruly-haired best friend.

“be careful!” carla calls after the two. it’s mainly towards the overexcited eren because she knows how her son can rope the other little boy into doing just about anything. a sigh from her side catches her attention, and she looks over to amari. the woman is watching the two boys with a certain look in her eyes that carla’s never seen before.

“hey,” she nudges the other woman softly. “what’s going on with you? your sunshine’s dimmer today.”

amari’s not going to cry. she’s tired of crying. but, of course, there’s no end to the tears. she’ll have to deliver the news once again, deal with the way just thinking about it makes her throat clog with poorly restrained sorrow.

“I have… somethin’ to tell you,” she murmurs. carla’s eyebrows furrow in response as her gut fills with a tell-tale intuitive dread. something’s really wrong. she quickly wraps her arm around amari’s shoulders and pulls her close. with that, the two travel to the kitchen together and begin to talk in hushed voices.

the boys are in their own world.

eren is ranting and raving about all of his new toys, informing his friend of his updated rankings. his dinosaur that’s held the top spot has officially been bumped down after months. it’s being replaced by what he considers to be top notch gifts. ony’s watching, as always, and ‘wow!’-ing at all of the cool features of eren’s new number one toy.

“I don’t know what to do, carla,” amari mutters. she watches her son play with her best friend’s boy. the two are laughing blissfully, unaware of the trials and tribulations of life, and amari so wishes that they could stay that way. “we… we’re supposed to have a whole life together, maybe even have another kid. we worked so hard for this family, you know? I’m glad they caught it early, but it’s still so scary. I just have a bad feelin’.”

carla sighs and rubs her friend’s back. she’s never seen the woman so crestfallen. amari and her husband really have worked through so much just to have the happy family they’ve built, and his diagnosis is a huge shock to everyone. they were just planning their first family vacation since they had their little one, an amazing first adventure for him, but everything is scrapped now that they have to think about treatment.

“I know,” carla says softly, her heart hurting with the situation at hand. “I know, mari. I’m so sorry. I wish there was more I could say. you know I’m going to support you both every step of the way.”

amari let’s out a sigh, feeling another tiresome bout of emotions start to rise. she’s cried so much, she didn’t even realize she had any tears left. she keeps thinking about losing her lover, her baby boy losing his father, and it just breaks her heart. she’s grateful for her best friend being there through all of it.

on the other side of the room, ony and eren are now playing their favorite game of cars. ony has a mini car in his favorite color green and eren’s all a buzz about his new fire red one.

the young brunette is once again showing ony the car from all angles, looking excitedly at all the cool designs painted on the sides. he doesn’t notice how little ony’s eyes flicker to his mom’s frame, how his shoulders start to drop, and he doesn’t immediately notice when ony’s usually devout attention redirects to his toy car that he’s slowly rolling back and forth.

ony’s distracted demeanor eventually makes eren scrunch his nose up. it’s a new toy with cool colors and he was excited to show his friend and maybe even let the other boy play with it. but then he follows his gaze and… he understands.

“your mommy’s crying,” eren mumbles. it’s not something either of the boys are used to seeing. amari shines like the sun, bringing light wherever she goes, but her sadness has created a dull overcast now covering the entirety of the home.

ony’s not sure what’s happened in the past week, but even his young self can pick up on the fact that something’s wrong. the house feels quieter. no singing from his parents around breakfast time, no music playing when it’s time to clean… just sullen smiles and lots of really tight hugs. he won’t tell, but he’s heard crying too.

little ony looks back down to his toy car. if he were a puppy, his ears would be down and tail motionless. “somethin’s wrong,” he murmurs.

eren looks at his friend, emerald eyes taking in the furrowed look on his face. he doesn’t like it. not at all. “hey,” he pokes at the young boy’s greased up knees. “I don’ like when you’re sad,” he says. “feel better.”

ony’s lower lip pouts. “don’t know how to feel better if I dunno what’s wrong,” he mumbles, sadly rolling his car back and forth.

ugh, eren really doesn’t like this. he doesn’t like seeing his friend sad, and he doesn’t like how his friend’s sadness makes him sad. eren frowns, eyebrows furrowed and lip pouting. “you’re my friend. I want you to feel better, so I wanna help. can I?”

ony smiles a bit at his friend’s determination. he can always count on his rennie.

“yeah, rennie. you can,” he murmurs.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I got it, momma,” ony mumbles, taking the bags from her hands. she’d gone grocery shopping earlier that day, wanting– no, needing fresh air. life is trying to choke her fire out, it seems, but she perseveres.

or compartmentalizes.

“thank you, baby. didn’t think you’d be home. why don’t you spend some time with rennie? it’s saturday,” amari says tiredly. ony shakes his head and swats her hand away when she goes to reach for more bags.

“I got it , momma,” he smiles. it’s a tense smile, the one he gives when he doesn’t want to add onto her long list of burdens. he’s training himself to never be on that list, no matter what. she already has too much to carry. “wanted to keep an eye on dad. he’s… having a tough day.”

amari’s eyes close briefly at that. tough days are starting to increase in number and she’s barely catching her breath. she’s trying to hold it together. for armond, for ony, for herself. “nausea?” she asks softly.

“and neuropathy,” ony says quietly. armond tries to hide it, but he’s struggling. the nerves in his hands and feet ache from the chemo and he’s getting more nauseous and lightheaded the further he gets into his treatment. it hurts to watch.

the sigh amari lets out is heavy with exhaustion.

“go rest, ma,” ony says carefully. he hates when her shoulders fall like that, weighed down by the world. if he could carry it all just to see his mom smile, he would. “I know you exhausted. just take the day.”

“I can’t let you do that, ony,” amari smiles weakly. “let me handle it, okay? momma’s got it.” she starts to head inside as she mentally encourages herself.

ony bites his tongue, but only for a moment. he simply can’t watch his mom try to carry everything anymore. he can’t. he has to step up. “momma,” he calls after her, voice firm. “let me. I know, okay? you wanna protect me. but I wanna protect you just as much.”

amari turns to look at her son, seeing the look in his eyes. she knows. she understands. and as much as she doesn’t want to burden her son with anything a child shouldn’t be burdened with, she really needs this day.

“you’re so much like your father,” she says, voice tinted with pride but also pain. stubborn, caring, protective, always wanting to take care of things. she sees so much of her lover in their son, and she’s grateful, even if it hurts sometimes.

she reaches to caress her son’s cheek. he’s so tall for his age, just like his dad, and it won’t be long before he surpasses his mother. ony leans into her touch.

“we’re gonna get through this, okay?” she murmurs tenderly. “it’s hard, and there’s not much I can say to make it better. but I love you, onyankopon, and we’re gonna get through this.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

it’s a sunny day in the city of trost, a beautiful saturday morning. the spring air is fresh and rejuvenating for those out and about and many are thinking and planning a way to enjoy such a lovely day.

it’s a cruel twist of fate, the town buzzing and happy on the day ony lays his father to rest.

he wishes the sky would cry like he is, how his mom does every night and morning. he wishes the weather would reflect the storm he’s feeling inside. he wishes the clouds were overflowing like he is.

eren and his mother spent the night beforehand spending time with their respective friends. carla held amari as she cried rivers of sorrow and eren let ony rest his head on his shoulder as the younger boy struggled with the weight of both his and his mom’s hurt. it was a hard night. much like the years, months, weeks spent watching his father wither away. much like the day his father joined the ancestors.

“you gotta get up, ony,” eren mumbles. it hurts to watch his friend like this, but he has no intentions of looking away. he’ll be there for him in his need, searching for any way possible to soothe him.

“I can’t,” ony forces out. his throat is rough, his eyes are swollen, and his heart is heavy. he can’t do this day and he doesn’t want to. he can’t listen to his mom cry anymore as the pain of her sobs could bring him to his knees. he feels weak. physically, mentally, emotionally.

this whole process has changed ony’s life. his entire experience of this world is now tainted with grief. he’s had to deal with his own but also his mother’s who can barely find the strength to stand. he wants to carry them both, but he doesn’t even know how to keep from drowning in his own hurt.

eren’s eyes close as his heart aches for his friend. he’s tasted a loss that eren can’t relate to. they’re both so young and eren doesn’t feel like he can offer what ony really needs right now. he wants to do more, needs to be the friend that’s needed right now, but he doesn’t know how. he doesn’t know what to say or do.

“I’m… I’m gonna go get my mom. she can help,” eren chokes out. he can’t sit here and watch the younger boy suffer without knowing how to support him. he feels useless just standing by the bed, watching as ony sinks into the painful comfort of his depression. he turns to leave the room, only to feel a tight grip on his wrist.

ony’s feeling too many things all at once, and he can’t bring himself to fall apart in front of anyone other than eren. the brunette never presses him, never looks at him with pity in his eyes. he doesn’t want to bother his mom, doesn’t want her to use what’s left of her strength to lift him up. just eren’s presence is enough to keep him from succumbing to the impossible weight holding him down. he needs him to be by his side today, no one but him.

“I need you, ren,” ony murmurs. it’s raw and vulnerable and although eren can’t see the boy’s face, he knows he’s crying again. ony sniffles before speaking again, his words hitting eren right in his chest. “I can’t– I just… I need you. just you.”

eren maneuvers ony’s hand into his own, giving it a meaningful squeeze. those words fill him with a strength he didn’t know he had. ony’s asking. asking for him, for his comfort, for his presence. like hell he’s leaving now, not when ony needs him like he does.

“I’m here. I’ll always be here,” eren replies with renewed conviction. “scoot over.”

ony looks up, half of his face covered by his arm. his eyes are tired and red, so puffy from the oceans of tears that have escaped his honey-colored eyes. “huh?” he rasps.

“scoot over,” eren mumbles again. less confident, but still intent. “I just wanna… can I… hold you?”

ony doesn’t say anything, but his heart beats faster. he wordlessly scoots over to make room for his friend. his best friend. eren crawls in beside him, hesitant at first, but soon his arm loops around ony and pulls him close.

they stay there for a while, ony crying and holding onto eren tightly. they stay there until they have no choice but to get ready for the day ahead. but just like he promised, eren stays by ony’s side all day.

and every day after.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

”you thinkin’ too hard,” ony murmurs quietly, breaking the silence between the two. the best friends are sitting in ony’s living room, absentmindedly watching an old re-run of ‘living single.’. he nudges eren with his knee. his touch is familiar and welcome by the brunette, even if not expressed.

ony’s holding his baby sister close to his heart, responsible for watching her while amari makes a quick run. his thoughts are on his silent and broody friend, but his eyes are on maya. he’s making sure that if she so much as coughs, he can react in a couple of seconds flat. she’s using her inhuman baby strength to grip his shirt tight and she’s having the time of her life as she chews on her teething ring. ony couldn’t be more content.

except for the obvious dark cloud over his friend’s head.

eren scoffs quietly and rolls his eyes. he’s always thinking too hard, it’s nothing new. there’s always something tinkering up there, it’s why he’s always moving somehow. a shaking leg, a fiddling hand, a pen twirled between usually charcoal-stained fingers. it’s a habit he’s always had and something he can’t seem to control. or care to control.

the tan boy lazily rubs a hand over his short brown hair, ruffling it in a way his mother wouldn’t approve of. had she seen him, she’d be fussing and reaching for the growing boy’s mop of strands with a pair of scissors.

“yeah, well,” he starts, leaning back on the park bench. “I’m flunking english. I gotta cram a semester’s worth of shit for a retest or my mom’s gonna kill me.” he’s stressed, but it’s not an unfamiliar predicament. he’s been in this position many times before, and he hopes he can get by with the skin of his teeth to just graduate and be done with it.

ony sighs, eyes closing just for a moment to calm his nerves. he should’ve known.

soon, his eyes are back on maya. “told yo’ as–... told you to ask armin to help you study for that exam. you know you don’t do tests, e,” he sighs. the older boy’s pride is always keeping him from asking for help and it always takes the same expected turn.

ony’s just trying to help, but he hit a sore spot. eren’s face scrunches much too quickly, overly reactive as per usual. what he heard was: ”you’re stupid, ask your genius adopted brother.” not even close to what was said, but eren absolutely hates feeling stupid, and the mention of armin is an instant trigger in that regard.

“why does everyone think I’m incapable? that genius little fuck—“

“—watch your mouth, maya’s right here—“

“—that little twink—“

“—that ain’t much better?—”

“—armin isn’t the solution to all life’s problems. I can figure it out,” eren finally spits out.

ony’s not surprised, but it does make him realize the insensitive nature of his delivery.

armin’s definitely a genius, there’s no doubt about it. he’s skipped a grade, is in those college prep classes, and he speaks three languages. he’s student body president, president of the debate club, and already has three college acceptances.

eren’s been lucky to even pass to the grade he’s in now.

he’s not stupid, he just learns differently. apparently a way that no one cares to teach. his mom used to struggle teaching him his letters and numbers because they’d just get jumbled in his head. he’s had tutors since he was young, but all of them have been the most condescending, impatient, and compassionless people he’s ever had to deal with.

grisha’s salary has them both in one of the most prestigious schools in the city, so naturally, the comparisons are many.

it grates eren’s nerves.

he’d never hate the blonde. no, they’ve bonded way too much at this point. but he resents him to a degree. report card day, end of the year awards ceremony, test scores… it’s all drowned by a feeling of just not being good enough. armin always brings home a stunning report, always has a list of awards and recognitions. and eren…

well, eren’s passing. it’s an accomplishment that’s celebrated because his parents really are proud of him, cheering him on all the same. but standing next to armin in that moment just makes him feel small.

so no, eren’s not asking the cabbage patch kid for help.

ony’s silent for a moment. he knows what eren’s going through, he’s heard him talk about it time and time again. he was there when eren was first excited for a little brother, the thought of the boy’s parents adopting after being unable to have another kid something to look forward to.

he was there when eren first started talking about armin. how the blonde was really shy but warmed up when eren decided to be a good big brother and show him all his video games. the two bonded like they’d always been together, and ony had to shake off the ridiculous trickles of jealousy.

he was there when the admiration turned to acknowledgement. eren went from singing armin’s praises to saying how he felt dumb talking to him.

and he was there when the acknowledgement turned to comparison.

“can I?” he asks quietly, turning to hold eren’s emerald gaze. it’s unfamiliar for the current circumstance. ony keeps his eyes on his sister always, serious about his responsibility of watching over her when their parents are gone since she’s so young and close to his heart.

but now, he’s looking at eren with something in his eyes that he doesn’t see from many.

understanding.

his eyes are on eren. the boy who’s usually in his little brother’s shadow, the boy usually at the back of the line. he sees him, he understands him, and he doesn’t pity him. eren’s eyebrow raises and his stomach does something funny.

“can you what?” the brunette asks. ony tilts his head.

“can I tutor you? for your retest?”

eren blinks. ony watches him.

ony’s not at the top of the class, but he’s not far from it. the only reason he’s able to go to such an expensive school is because he’s on an academic scholarship. with his dad passing, he wanted to become the “man of the house,” but his mom quickly encouraged he let go of the notion. he wanted to make up for their loss, help carry her as she takes care of him. she told him his responsibility was to be a kid and focus on school.

so that’s what he focused on. he focused so well that he’s in this fancy ass school with all of these palm colored people, eating lunches that could quite frankly use a lot more salt to sound so complicated. he’s always been stubborn, so it didn’t take him long to start stepping up in the house too.

now his mom has a new job and fell in love again, like she promised her late husband she would. she’s married to mario now, a guy that’s actually pretty decent and a great father figure. the house is more alive now and he has a new responsibility of watching over his lovely little sister, who he’d do anything for.

they’re not rich, but they’re not struggling. now he sees that he can kind of just… do whatever, if he keeps going. nothing calls to him as a purpose quite yet, aside from wanting to be a good man like his father was. to make him proud and take care of those close to him.

he knows how to study, different techniques for remembering things, different ways of understanding the same thing. he could tutor anyone, really. but for eren… it’s a sensitive topic. the brunette gets embarrassed by the way he struggles with certain problems, gets frustrated at his own inability to learn the same as everyone else.

ony knows that.

“…you’d do that?” eren asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I’d do whatever for you,” ony mumbles. his eyes hold nothing but sincerity, the years together solidifying their bond like no other. eren’s been there for him through all of life’s toughest moments, the happiest too. he’s been his shoulder to cry on, one of the first people ony delivers good news to, and the younger boy will never forget that. he’ll always show how much he cares for his friend.

he turns to face forward again, letting maya’s little hand wrap around his finger.. “you know I’d do whatever for you,” he adds for good measure.

eren does know that. he’s known that for a long time.

he’s known it since ony’s been there for every rant, listening to all the words eren usually keeps to himself. he’s known it since the first time ony told him that he understood, the sincerity in his eyes then never changing over the years they’ve known each other. he’s known that through every hardship that the two have faced, every celebration and milestone, always together and leaning on each other.

he’s never felt more heard and seen than the moments he’s sat at the other young man’s side. he’s never remembered a time when that wasn’t his reality, doesn’t remember a life without their friendship.

“…yeah, okay. you can,” eren answers quietly.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

there’s confetti everywhere, stray graduation caps scattered across the football field as cheers ring from all over. people are searching for their families and friends in the crowd, tears and bright smiles on their faces.

ony feels his lungs fill with fresh air, feeling so light after years of hard work. it’s hard to believe, but he’s grateful for it. he hopes his mom is proud, though he’s sure she’s probably cried enough to fill a lake today. he hopes the sun’s increased brightness is due to his father’s pride. he hopes that he can keep going, that this isn’t all he can accomplish.

he tries to focus on the win, not the fear of the unknown trying to crawl into his skin.

two hands clasp onto ony shoulders, giving them a warm squeeze. “can you believe we actually did it?” eren grins. he’s more than glad to be free from the hell of high school, and he’s so damn excited that he got accepted into his dream art school. “come on, we gotta find our moms before they cry their eyes out or something.”

eren tries to pull ony away, but ony doesn’t budge. eren finds himself being tugged into his strong grip. ony’s hand presses against the older boy’s back as he holds him close, other hand cupping the back of his neck.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, eren,” he murmurs into the boy’s shoulder, who blinks in surprise. “of us. there’s no guarantees in life, but we did it. through everything, we did that shit.”

eren can’t help but melt a little at that. he’s right. in all the excitement and eren’s desire to just go home after this early ass graduation, he hadn’t taken the time to just… be proud and grateful.

eren wraps his arms around ony’s torso and squeezes him tight just like he always has. he’d try to lift his friend, but the boy’s solid muscle and probably wouldn’t even budge.

“I’m proud of you, too,” eren mumbles. “armond would be so proud of who you’re becoming. I know you’re gonna figure out what you wanna be, ony-ony. trust that.”

ony laughs at the old nickname, patting eren on the back before pulling away. the two look at each other, emerald and honey eyes meeting intimately.

eren clears his throat and looks away. “we should go, yeah? I’m hungry as fuck. stomach’s about to be touching my back.”

ony smiles fondly. “yeah. just… before we go,” he murmurs. “you goin’ to school miles away, chasing your dreams. ren, you’re gonna do big things. that art of yours is meaningful and it makes people feel and see you the way I do. I’ll always support you. just don’t forget about me, aight?”

eren rolls his eyes. ony’s been stuck to him like glue since birth almost. there’s no future in his eyes without ony. “I’d never. shit’s not even possible,” he shakes his head. “now come on. I want some of your ma’s mac n’ cheese.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

eren and his brother stand on the outskirts of their parent’s backyard. the space is abuzz with guests for their fourth of july celebration, streamers and fireworks that they know they’ll have to clean later strewn about. eren’s itching to sneak away to smoke a quick joint, maybe get his brother to take a hit or two for the vibes, but he’s on the lookout for a familiar face that he hasn’t seen in person for a while.

his best friend, his partner in crime, the man that stayed in town while eren went to a distant college in a distant city. the brunette’s been pursuing an art degree, using his privilege from his dad’s occupation to pursue the one thing that quiets his brain, but ony stayed in town to be close to his family and try to figure out what he wants out of life.

they haven’t lost contact, of course. they’re best friends. the two have stayed connected through facetimes and text messages, but eren still really misses him.

maybe more than he should.

this’ll be their first time seeing each other since last summer because eren stayed an extra few weeks away for an internship. he worked through all of his breaks to finish up his projects, always getting lost in the art of expression. he’s gained great opportunities working with and learning from the best, even as a rising junior. he’s passionate, chasing his dream of creating and expressing himself in a way that people can actually understand and connect with.

for what feels like the first time, eren is excelling in school.

but he missed his family, and that includes ony.

there’s an outbreak of obnoxious laughter from mario as he and grisha play some kind of game, the tall man always too loud when the drinks get flowing. eren actually likes him, but damn is he noisy. it makes him reach to check for the plastic tube and lighter in his pocket, wanting to make sure he has everything he needs before he slips away.

he stops in his tracks when he sees his best friend enter the backyard through the gate.

he looks straight out of a movie, really. eren’s phone screen didn’t do him justice. his hair is freshly cut, line-up impeccable and waves able to drown whoever looks too closely. his dark skin is glistening as the sun sets, cut off sleeves revealing muscular arms with new tattoos all healed up. eren feels a funny feeling tingle in his stomach when he sees just how ripped ony’s gotten, how his smile shines much like his mothers, how he’s grown.

but then his stomach drops.

“...who the fuck is that?” eren grumbles. his voice has way too much bite and his eye is threatening to start twitching from overstimulation and irritation.

armin looks up from his phone, pushing at his face out of habit of wearing glasses. contacts. right. “who’s wh– oh. oh. you… didn’t know?”

there, in all his glory, is ony walking hand-in-hand with someone.

a guy.

a guy eren’s never seen or heard of before.

he’s short, close to armin’s height, and most likely mixed with his light skin and curly hair. he’s thin, clad in some jean shorts and a tank top. eren can’t make out much of his features from the distance, but it doesn’t matter. he’s not unattractive by any means, but anyone pales in comparison to ony.

“didn’t know?” eren asks, eyes flickering to the blonde. “you did?”

armin’s mouth opens and closes as he struggles to answer. his eyes flick over to jeremy, introduced to him at the beginning of summer. the young man follows behind ony as he greets people, smiling at some with familiarity and others with a soft shyness as he’s introduced. loose curls blow in the wind, dimples are revealed when he smiles a certain way, and eren wants to vomit.

there’s no way this is happening. first off, if ony was dating anyone, eren would and should be the first to know as his best friend. the two have been friends since diapers and have shared every secret, every life event, every frustration since the dawn of damn time. second off, a guy? ony’s never said anything about being gay. and again, if he were to come out to anyone first, it should be eren.

there’s a mysterious third thing ringing in the back of his head that he doesn’t acknowledge.

does ony not… lean on him anymore? do they not share that protective bubble anymore? what happened to talking about everything? being each other’s go to person? seems like eren’s the one being left behind. he’s never feared losing ony because he never thought he’d have to. he thought they’d always be side by side.

no, eren doesn’t like this. he doesn’t like how he can feel his whole world tilting. eren’s in shambles. spiraling. at a fourth of july party in his parent’s backyard.

“is this drink spiked or something?” he mumbles, even glancing down to his glass almost dramatically as he tries to come to terms with what he’s seeing and hearing and feeling. he just feels off and out of place, almost like he’s wearing two left shoes. he can’t make sense of it.

armin quickly tries to do damage control, knowing that eren’s mind is coming up with a whirlwind of thoughts that are more than likely moving way too damn fast. “um, maybe he jus–”

“what’s his name?” eren mumbles. his eyes are still on the stranger, but his usually vibrant irises are darkening with each thought. he’s picking him apart from afar.

“it’s jeremy, but–”

eren scoffs. “fuck ass name. what do you know about him?” it’s not like the boy has any control over his given name, and eren hasn’t even met him to form a true opinion about him. his hurt is clouding his judgement, not thinking clearly with such a sudden change in his life.

“well…” armin starts hesitantly. “ony introduced us when I got back. he didn’t say much, just introduced him as his boyfriend and left it at that.” it was weird at the time, side eyes all around on that day. no judgement for him being with another guy, but everyone had kind of grown to think that other guy would be eren.

“boyfriend?” eren asks, head snapping to look back at his brother. a few others close by look over at his volume as armin tries to shush him discreetly. “there’s no way in hell. how the fuck did he not tell me?”

“eren alexander,” he hears from his side. he frowns and turns to fuss, but the look in his mom’s eyes stops him. carla can send the fear of God through the boy with a simple look, and he’s feeling pretty fearful right now, despite his frustration.

she’d been walking over to give the two young men some popsicles from the secret stash she keeps hidden (eren will blow through the whole bag in a week if she didn’t) and overheard the conversation. even if she knows the depth of eren’s feelings better than he understands himself, she won’t let eren cause a scene in front of everyone, especially grisha’s colleagues. lord knows she’s been just barely dealing with their spouses.

“go cool down and take some breaths,” she states, holding the sweet treat out to him. she’s still got that look in her eyes, the one she passed down to eren, but hers is a lot more bone-chilling.

“but he didn’t tell me,” he presses, his eyebrows furrowed. he’s hurt, and it’s plain to see all in his eyes. they always tell the story of what he’s feeling, and right now? he’s struggling. blindsided by the one person he trusts with all of him.

carla softens at that. she knows why he’s hurting, even if he doesn’t realize the root of his own pain. if she’d had her way, she would’ve sat the boy down to have a conversation about ony a long time ago, but grisha warned against it. ”he’s stubborn, you know that. there are some things he needs to figure out on his own,” he said. and he’s right to a point.

she just hates to watch her son struggle through something he’s feeling so deeply.

“I know, ren,” she murmurs softly. “just… go sit, okay? don’t jump to conclusions. you can talk things out with a clear head.”

eren sighs and closes his eyes momentarily. it’s not that big of a deal, is it?

it is. but whatever. he’ll shove his feelings down since they’re too much for everyone else.

he grabs the popsicle and walks away, leaving his mom and brother to exchange glances. he can almost feel the metaphorical cloud gathering above his head as he makes his way to his secret spot in his mom’s garden. instead of sitting on the bench, he sits on the ground behind it, his hand instinctively reaching for the lighter and tube in his pocket.

his eyebrows are furrowed as he pulls the pre-rolled joint out. his mind is racing, racing, racing as he places it between his lips and lights it. he just can’t help but wonder what he did wrong.

the two have talked often but ony never mentioned any of this. he feels like the rug has been ripped from underneath him and his chest feels hollow. why the hell didn’t he say anything? and why the hell are eren’s hands shaking?

he’s supposed to be calming down. he’s supposed to be taking breaths like his mom said. the popsicle in his hand is melting as he takes hit after hit, mind whirling and coming up with scenario after scenario. he inhales quickly when he burns his finger, not even realizing that he’d been sitting so long that he smoked up his joint.

“shit,” he murmurs, quickly putting it out on the stone bench behind him. he forces himself to take a breath, trying to get his mind to center and stop running like crazy. he’s so distracted that he can’t hear the approaching footsteps.

ony’s quiet as he walks up. he dreads the coming conversation and the guilt that’s already bubbled up in his chest.

honestly, he didn’t think eren would be here since he’s always postponing coming home. eren’s been… busy. busy losing himself in his work, chasing his passions, and essentially leaving ony behind. he’s got his own life and future bright ahead of him and ony truly believes that one day, he won’t be standing by his side anymore.

he feels forgotten.

because unlike eren, ony just can’t seem to find his passion, his purpose. he’s going to a local university, spending time with his family, working part time as a security guard. he feels distant from everyone else, all his friends going after what they want in life. he pales in comparison.

that’s when jeremy entered the situation.

they bonded quickly, bumping into each other at a restaurant. ony had almost knocked the poor boy down and was more than apologetic for it. a couple of drinks in, jeremy used his temporary confidence to tell the taller gentleman to make it up to him with dinner. and he did.

ever the one to please, jeremy repaid him that night with his tongue, his touch, and his attention.

ony had tasted the experience of being with a woman before and enjoyed it thoroughly, but because of a pull to a certain brunette, he was always cognizant of the fact that he could be bi. that night confirmed it for him.

things continued to grow between the two. ony figured that with eren continuing to focus elsewhere, maybe this is where he’s meant to be. eren will do great things, just as ony always expected, and ony’s journey will take him down a separate path. he’d save himself the trouble of expecting anything different, shove that tug in his gut away, and continue to figure life out for himself.

“hey, e,” ony greets lowly. instead of sitting next to the artist on the ground, he sits on the bench behind him. he wouldn’t want to risk getting caught in the storm brewing in the brunette. it’s a bad choice. if anyone knows eren’s habit of taking even the slightest thing personally, it’s ony. because of course he takes notice of the empty spot next to him. it’s like salt in the wound.

“boyfriend, huh?” eren mumbles. his original excitement to see his favorite person has been replaced with hurt feelings, so fuck a greeting. “you never mentioned him.”

ony sighs in response. he hadn’t meant to blindside him, not at all. it’s a strange topic to approach considering his own complex feelings about the situation. he wonders what exactly has eren so upset. is it just that they hadn’t discussed it or is it maybe something more? he won’t make assumptions, no matter how deep the desire.

he tries to smooth it over with humor. if he can get the brunette to laugh, that’s all he needs.

“figured you wouldn’t care too much about my shit, mr. picasso,” he murmurs, reaching over to flick a tuft of brown hair. the look eren throws over his shoulder makes him feel dumb as shit, but he’s surprised when eren simply turns around to face forward again and mumbles a “whatever.”

ony doesn’t like that. at all.

in all their years, he’s never been brushed off by the brunette. if he’s angry, he’ll fuss. if he’s sad, he’ll cry. eren’s no stranger to shoving his feelings down, but not with ony. never with ony.

the dark skinned man fears he may have taken a fatal step. something in his gut sinks, screaming that he made a wrong turn that’ll cost him. he watches eren for a moment, almost frozen.

”when you’re with someone you care about, they should get the most respect you can give ‘em. that means everything you do and say matters, even the smallest thing.”

he feels like there’s something unspoken. eren’s not just upset about not being told. sure, they tell each other everything, but the hurt seems deeper. had he known his avoidance would come back to bite him in the ass, he would’ve forced himself to have the courage to communicate. “don’t be like that, e. I’m sorry,” he murmurs. really, he is.

eren can’t exactly put this betrayal into words. he can’t explain why he feels sick to his stomach about this whole ordeal. so his best friend is dating someone and didn’t tell him. what’s the big issue? he doesn’t have the bandwidth to figure this out right now. he just wants to be left alone.

“nah, it’s whatever. we can’t be up each other’s asses 24/7, I guess. happy for you,” eren shrugs. eren is indeed not happy, but he’ll say what he needs to in order to get ony out of his face. he needs to process. his fingers itch for some charcoal and a canvas.

he can’t explain to ony why his heart feels so heavy, and for the first time, he doesn’t want to.

“eren,” ony presses. he can tell the artist is shoving his feelings down, shutting ony out like never before. it’s unfamiliar and sickening in a way ony just can’t deal with. “just talk to me. I’ll listen, you know that. tell me I fucked up. tell me you’re mad. tell me what’s wrong.”

deep down, eren wants to talk. he wants to yell and scream and figure out why the hell his heart is wrenching in his chest. he wants to push ony away but also pull him closer. he wants war, but also solitude, but also a hug that squeezes his pain away. he wants to ask ony so many questions.

but the distant look in eren’s eye proves that the door to his heart and mind is shutting. whatever battle he’s fighting, he’s fighting on his own. there’s a wall building between the two that’s never been there, and it feels heavier than anyone can bear. ony can’t lift it on his own, and eren refuses to open up.

“it doesn’t matter, ony. you’re happy. you don’t need me anymore,” eren mumbles. it makes ony tense.

“what? no. I do need you. I always have and always will,” he presses. “I ain’t tell you. I’m sorry. you’ve just– you’re focused, e. you out living yo’ life, and I’m proud of that. I just… I have to figure things out for myself. that’s it.”

eren’s eyebrows furrow as he turns to look at his friend. “I’ve told you about every art piece, every showing. just because I’m focused, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna live life with you in it. I’ve invited you to come, or did you forget about that? what, did fuck-ass jeremy not wanna come?”

“don’t do that,” ony shakes his head. he wanted to go, he did. but between work and babysitting maya and school and the ever-living comparisons ony puts himself through, he couldn’t. it was never jeremy. “don’t disrespect my boy like that.”

“your boy?” eren laughs humorlessly, shoving up off of the ground. “yeah, this is bullshit. I’m going inside.”

“what’s yo’ problem, man?” ony fusses, standing himself. “I get it, I should’ve told you. but you’re acting like I—“

“just forget about it!” eren yells. he can’t deal with this. he can’t even understand for himself, let alone explain it to someone else. especially the person he feels betrayed by. “go to your boy. I don’t give a shit anymore. he can have you.”

he doesn’t think, the words just slip, much like the way he can feel eren slipping away. the fear, the feelings of not being enough, it’s all coming tumbling out in the worst way and to the one person he never wants to hurt.

“have me? like I was ever yours in the first place?”

eren freezes.

wow. wow, is all eren can think. he feels twisted up, discarded, left out to dry. there’s a hole building in his chest that makes him want to cry and scream. he was hurting before, but now it’s just too much. those words were too much.

“fuck you, onyankopon,” eren spits. he feels an arm wrapping around him, the scent of his mom’s perfume wafting through his nose as she tries to calm him. he doesn’t know when she got there, but he doesn’t care.

“so much for being forgotten, huh?” the brunette forces the words out with all of him, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. “fuck this. I wish you the best, ony. I’ll just excuse myself since it ain’t with me.”

carla tries to stop him, pleading with him to just take a breath and relax, think about what he’s saying. it’s all muffled in his ear as he storms away.

ony wants to chase after him. scream and say he was wrong, fuck jeremy if it means no eren, no sunshine from the passion that pours out of the boy like no one he’s ever seen. but he remembers that this was always going to happen. maybe not like this, but somehow.

eren’s meant to do more than ony could ever dream of. he was always going to leave. the dark skinned man never thought it’d be his own fault, but he figures the ending would’ve never changed.

so he lets him leave.

there was a shift that day between the two friends. what was once an uninhibited and safe connection slowly became an unbridgeable gap. words unspoken, emotions no longer shared, touch a distant memory.

you can have my heart and soul,

but only if you never leave.

the story of the sun and moon,

separated before the stars came to be.

a/n: me vs wanting to turn every idea into a chapter fic. I love writing with detail out the ass, wanted this to be like 20k. how we feelin’ chat? yay or nay? feedback welcome!

wanted to release everything at one time but it's just too much goin on. I’m swamped but the full shebang is still coming.

my updates are slow, no lie. but! taglist is open <3

taglist: @empressdede

[todosdream]

“current” | ony

735 wrds. black reader. fluff. suggestive.

a/n: saw this trend and immediately thought of my (our) mans. maybe fits the streamer!ony x youtuber!reader verse I’ve been brainstorming? quick lil sum before I get back to “can I”

“babyyy, do a fit check with me!” you call from the bathroom. your reflection in the mirror shows just how much effort you put into your look for date night, even if it took… quite a while.

you can hear the warmth in your man’s chuckle from the couch he’s been patiently waiting on. “pretty girl, we already leavin’ way later than we said. you wanna do that right now?��� he asks. you turn the light off in the bathroom before leaving, the room lingering with the scent of your perfume.

as you walk into the living room, your eyes are drawn to your man looking so damn fine in his outfit that *he* chose to coordinate with yours. legs spread and arms resting on the back of the couch, muscles accentuated, and face card *always* on point…

yeah, he’s blessed. and so are *you* to have him.

a smile crawls onto ony’s face as he takes you in from head to toe, gaze fond as he starts to stand. “so damn *beautiful*, baby,” he croons, holding his hand out for you. you place your hand in his and he immediately spins you around like the princess you are. “lemme get a good look at my wife.”

you laugh at that, wrapping one arm around his neck and holding your left hand in his face. “uh-uh, boy, where my ring at? not wifey till I get a *rock*,” you shoot back. “but you look so handsome. I *love* this shirt on you, got ya chest all out like you want me rubbin’ on it.”

his head tilts back with laughter as his hands find their usual placements, on your ass and small of your exposed back. his thumb softly caresses your bare skin as he dips his head to press kisses to your temple. “you right, mama, my bad,” he smiles. “*thank* you, baby. c’mon, let’s do this video so we can go. I’m hungry as hell.”

your grin is a little too slick, but he doesn’t notice as you start to set up your camera. you make sure you get the right angles and lighting, used to making sure you look your best on screen. ony’s standing next to you as he adjusts his chain, a calm look on his face.

pressing record, you step back as you wait for the timer to finish. ony wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, sneaking a kiss. once the recording starts, you greet your viewers.

“hi, my babies!” you grin. “it’s date night, so we’re gonna do a quick fit check for you guys before we head out. y’all know what’s up, I’m here with my current boyfriend, ony. say hi, baby.

the immediate eyebrow raise you get in response is too funny for words. his head snaps in your direction like you just disrespected his mama. you *knew* he’d catch that as soon as you said it.

“huh?” he asks, eyes sweeping over your face. “what you just say?” ours like he’s giving you a chance to correct yourself.

you try to keep your face from showing any signs of laughter, but it’s hard. “I said we’re gonna do a fit check? just say hi, papa, c’mon,” you pat his chest, turning to face the camera again.

“naw, you called me yo’ *‘current’* boyfriend,” he murmurs, finger finding your chin to direct your gaze back to him. his eyes are picking you apart like he’s reminding you how serious he is. “you know *damn* well ion play like that. wasn’t we just talkin bout that ring?”

you can tell by his demeanor that he’s *very* serious about deading whatever joke you’re pulling now, initial humor gone from his eyes. the shift is obvious and it makes your heart rate pick up. you blink up at him, softly nibbling on your lip.

he doesn’t like your like of response, it’s clear in the way his eyebrows raise even more. “*right?*” he asks again with a tilt of his head. you clear your throat and nod. “right,” you murmur softly. “sorry, baby.”

“right,” he rasps before he softly taps your chin. “don’t wanna hear that shit again. I’m yo *last* boyfriend, mama.” he lifts your chin to press his lips to yours firmly.

“playin’ with me like that’ll get you right back in that bedroom. now gone head and finish yo’ video.”

[todosdream]

I’m kind of in love with “can I?” omg. it’s on the way I promise 😛

that thang long as hell though so between life and perfectionism, it’s taking a while. I might release some shorter stuff just to keep things flowing.

[todosdream]

can I? | ony.reader.eren

a family oriented man, always prioritizing providing for those he cares for. you’ll be truly treasured if you find yourself close to his heart.

eren’s moodboard.

[todosdream]

can I? | ony.reader.eren

a man of many thoughts, but few words. his whirlwind of feelings are only well received through mediums of art.

ony’s moodboard.

[todosdream]

writing ony x reader x eren makes me wanna write for eren 😭 omg I forgot I love that man. get me between them STAT. AHORAAAA

and writing for crys and ony makes me wanna bite my pillowwwww bc WHY can’t I have what they have ☹️

so many feelings 🙂‍↔️

[todosdream]

so many wips. ain’t no tellin’ what I’ll post first lolol

[todosdream]

icarus | ony

14.2k wrds. fem black reader. plot w/ smut. MDNI!!!

warnings: established d/s relationship, daddy dom!ony and sub!reader, bratty!reader, reader’s a lil shit, cursing, weed mentioned, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (BE SAFE), hard dom!ony so he’s a meanie, pet names, degradation, ony and that heavenly bbc, ony’s an ass man, choking, spitting, a couple LIGHT slaps, spanking, bossy!ony, dacryphilia, overstimulation, ony gives great aftercare

moodboard.

original request by @rnvsxo. this took wayyy too long and I do apologize. thanks for requesting, pookie!

you love your man. literally wouldn’t change a thing about him.

seemingly rough around the edges, he’s actually just a big goofball and teddy bear all wrapped up in one man. yes, he’s tall and burly and covered in tattoos, but he can also be quite the idiot when he’s comfortable.

he values you deeply and shows that with every action. he’s always talking to and about you with deep reverence. he’s intentional and protective and just all around what you’ve always wanted out of a partner. he’s always focused on making sure you feel good with him. whether you’re by his side, under him, on top of him… his focus is making sure his princess is taken care of in all ways. free to be yourself, always secure and held down by your daddy.

he’s always so gentle. large and calloused, veiny hands softly caress, strong arms wrap around you protectively, words always praising and loving. you love that shit. you love him.

even with his sometimes cocky self, his penchant for being overprotective as hell, and his yelling at the tv when he games or watches some sport... even with his funky feet after working out and tendency to hold you captive in the mornings when you have to use the restroom really fucking bad… you just can’t help but love him, stinky toes and all. he’s your person and there’s no doubt about that.

but sometimes…

sometimes you need more. something different.

sometimes you want him to just wreck you.

like, c’mon. the man looks like he can literally throw you a good distance. his muscles bulge so attractively when he works out, and he looks so damn fine when his brow is furrowed with strain. the grunts, the harsh breaths… it takes your breath away. when he scoops you up in his arms like you don’t weigh anything– which you absolutely do– you get flashes of what it’d be like for him to just manhandle you. rough you up a bit.

is that toxic?

possibly, you think. but you can’t help but feel that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with desiring aggression from him, especially considering how safe you feel in his arms. you know that no matter what goes down in the bedroom, he loves and respects the fuck outta you. he’d never hurt his girl. that’s no question.

it seems like he’s almost afraid of it, though. whenever he finds himself particularly angry or frustrated, he demands space. he doesn’t want his words to sting and he refuses to treat you with anything less than complete respect. even when you poke and prod, tease a desire for rougher treatment, he’s quick to shut it down.

“nah, baby, you’re my princess. I ain’t doin’ you like that.”

too bad you want to be done like that. real bad, actually.

you want his hands gripping you hair or your throat, you want those big arms and rough hands holding you to him, you want his words to be firm and aggressive, that deep timbre winded with exertion. you think about it a lot. hell, you’ve even dreamed about it, subsequently waking up to make a mess of the soft sheets he buys for your sensitive skin.

it actually pisses you off. he gives you everything you want, so why not indulge your fantasies? you crave it. you’d beg for it if you knew it’d affect him, but he doesn’t even like it when you beg!

“princesses don’t beg, mama. daddy’s always gonna give you exactly what you need. you should never have to.”

it’s like wanting a deep tissue massage but the masseuse is too afraid of hurting you, or wanting extra spicy wings but only getting medium. there’s a time and a place for both, but he’s always straying on the side of caution. like, damn! you’re not going to break. you can take that shit, whatever he has to offer. you’re not asking for him to throw you off a damn cliff. even just a hand around the throat here, a harsh smack on the ass there, just a sprinkle of degradation would help. if he can’t go hard, he can be just a little bit mean!

it’s getting to be too much. it’s an itch that he refuses to scratch. you’re stubborn, you’re determined, and you’re creative.

and maybe, just maybe, a little deprived.

okay, a lot deprived.

it’s not your fault! he says you can get whatever you want, but refuses to indulge in something that you’ve grown to want the most. you’ve asked directly and pleaded and hinted, everything you can within the realm of healthy communication. call you spoiled, but you’re going to get what you want, especially because you know no matter what he says, he wants that shit too.

you see how he holds back, how he strains. you know he wants to smack that ass and snatch you up. you know he wants to correct you with more than just a warning tone, especially when you’re being particularly bratty. he wants to push you up against that damn wall, be mean, talk to you crazy just because he can and because you like it.

you see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. you see it in the way his eyes squint and how his hands grip just a little bit tighter. sometimes he looks at you like a man starved and you expect him to just break, but he never does.

he’s holding back, has been the entire time, and you hate it. it’s unfair. though you understand where he’s coming from, you need him to understand your perspective.

he just needs a little… push.

so you’re gonna shove his ass.

you’re going to a party tonight, an anime themed shindig that you’ve both really been looking forward to. you’ve got the matching outfits; you’re dressing as a fem luffy and him zoro. it’s the show you’ve been watching together to fill the time; while you smoke, while you clean, right before bed after he’s made you come for the nth time. so what’s a better couple costume than a captain and her first mate?

you already know you’ll get a lot of attention for how you’re dressed and who you’re dressed as. you’ll be taking full advantage of luffy’s personality: outgoing, comfortable with people, touchy. you’re intending to tug on every nerve of the bearded man that you can.

the plan is to tease, tease, tease until he just can’t take it. you believe with full confidence that you can take whatever he dishes out. if you can tap dance on those nerves of his enough to get him to lessen his inhibitions, you’ll absolutely fucking show him that.

and you have a feeling it’s going to work real well.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ony’s happy.

he loves you, he loves your relationship, and he loves taking care of his princess.

he loves seeing how free you feel around him, unlimited in his protective presence. his pretty lady, spreading her wings and being her full self. sensitive, sweet, bratty, nasty. you’ve told him more times than he can count how refreshing and new it is to be in a space that allows you to fully express and explore yourself. you know he wouldn’t judge or hurt or diminish anything you’re feeling.

that just makes him all the more overprotective. you’re capable, more than, but he’s constantly looking out for you because that’s his job as your man. you’ve trusted him with everything and he doesn’t take that shit lightly. he never wants to see you sad or crying, hates when you’re upset, and would take down anybody that puts so much as a pout on that face of yours. he’s your safe place to land, your shoulder to cry on, a man that will do anything to never let you down.

so how in the fuck could he ever do or say anything to hurt you?

you’re too damn pretty to talk to any kind of way, too special to him. he’d never risk it, he couldn’t.

it sucks to look you in your eyes and tell you no, it honestly doesn’t even feel right in his fucking soul. he can do many, many things for you. he’ll eat you out just for the fun of it, tongue tracing his name on that pretty clit. he’ll slide into his bathroom at work just to talk you through your nut when you’re extra needy.

he’ll be just about anything for you. coddling? yea. overprotective? hell yea.

mean?

absolutely the fuck not.

he’s a big man and he really just doesn’t know his strength. sometimes he doesn’t realize just how strong his hold is on something until it breaks. he’ll be watching a game, on the edge of his seat and yelling at the tv, and suddenly— oops. cup’s broken. he’ll do normal reps at the gym, something slight for a warm up, and walk away from the machine just to hear, ”damn, who the fuck was lifting this??”

his mouth can get real reckless, also. he knows that when he’s angry or upset, his words bite. he wasn’t always as level headed, didn’t always count to ten before reacting to whatever. he used to talk first and think later, say what he wanted and bring down a few egos. as a man, he’s learned that his aggression can be dangerous and should be dealt with appropriately.

that’s why he just can’t bring himself to be aggressive with you. it’s his mission to tend to you, care for you, take care of the parts of you that no one else will ever see. you trust him in so many ways and he knows all of it’s foreign to you. he’d damn near kill someone just for making you break a nail, so if he hurt you… he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

however…

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the desire to get a little rough with you.

he thinks about it a lot. what it’d be like to just… grab you. he wonders if you could take him, all of him. the rough and aggressive him. the him that would snatch you up without a second thought, make you ride him until you collapse. the him that he usually keeps very separate from his woman.

he’d do so many things to you if he let himself. he knows you say you can take it, but can you really?

would you still be fully comfortable in subspace if he was aggressive with you? would you still let those walls down, be his sweet and sensitive girl if he gagged you? bound you? or would it affect you in ways you’re not fully prepared for?

to be frank, you talk a lot of shit that you just can’t back up. you’ll run that pretty little mouth, teases on your tongue, just to be putty in his hands minutes later, or pouting at him with hurt feelings because he raised his voice even just a smidgen.

he won’t risk it.

it doesn’t matter if he wants to shove that pretty face in his mattress and tear that ass up. it doesn’t matter if he wants to make you cum more times than you think you ever could, overwhelm you with the pleasure your eyes beg for. and it definitely doesn’t matter that he wants to grab you by the neck and make you breathless, just to let you go and do it all over again.

it doesn’t matter.

you’re his baby, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“baby, you ready?” ony calls from the bedroom. “just a sec, pooks!” you call back. you take a moment to check yourself over in the mirror, wanting to be sure that you’re as tempting as you feel.

you’re dressed in luffy’s beast pirate outfit with a sultry feminine twist, the crop top you’re wearing keeping you from showing too much skin and shorts accentuating your form. your makeup is done to perfection, highlighting your features, and you have a straw hat resting on your back to make room for the red horns sticking out of your head of curls.

the irony of said horns is not lost on you by any means.

you used makeup to recreate the scars on his face and chest, and your skin is glowing from the scented shea butter you rubbed on your body; ony’s favorite tantalizing scent, of course. you paired it with a matching perfume just to give it an extra oomph.

with an accomplished sigh, you lock eyes with your reflection, your lips curling into a devilish little smile. you look fucking good and you smell edible. whatever happens tonight will be well deserved.

you step out of the bathroom, fully planning to give your boyfriend a tease of a show to start your plan, only to stop when you see him.

he looks downright sinful.

he’s wearing zoro’s beast pirate outfit to match yours. he’s bare of a shirt, just zoro’s signature green haramaki sash and dark green pants. his hair is tinted green from the hair wax you bought for him and he’s moisturized to a t, his dark skin glowing and tattoos looking more than lickable. his muscles are on display, accented with the harness strapped across his chest, and it takes everything in you not to just melt to the floor and suck the soul out of him right then and there, plans be damned.

“fuck, ony. you look good,” you bite your lip as your eyes trail over him. your mind is playing over the different positions you hope to be in tonight... “not fair,” you murmur.

he chuckles, focused on his phone and tapping away as he texts eren where the group will meet. “thank you, princess. don’t forget you have to do my scars. I can’t say I’m zoro without the–“ he cuts himself as he looks up at you, eyebrows raising.

his eyes trail up and down your figure, taking in the shape of your body with the form fitting clothes. you look good as hell, no surprise there. skin showing, curves accentuated, standing confident and looking like you should be on your back and spread out for him. he licks his lips and tosses his phone onto the bed before taking a few steps towards you. “…gahhh damn, baby,” he drags out.

his hands meet your hips, one trailing down to feel the smooth skin of your thigh. “shit. princess, you look fuckin’ amazing. I’ma be fightin’ niggas all night. hell,” he murmurs deep.

his gaze is hot, warming your body with his obvious attraction to you. you’re glad he loves it, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel real good. you bite the inside of your cheek as your hands trail up his torso to his chest. “damn yourself,” you mumble back. “I look good for me and for you, daddy. you know that.”

that makes him twitch in his pants. you always know just what to say to rile him up, and it’s both invigorating and irritating. he chuckles lowly and hooks his finger through the belt loop on your side, quickly turning you to press your ass up against his pelvis. his hands trail up your sides and to your chest, giving a light squeeze as he presses a soft kiss to your jaw from behind.

“mmm, fine as fuck, baby. you did so good with your outfit, maybe a little too good. I’m so tempted to just…” he leads off, hands teasingly inching towards the button of your pants. your stomach jolts, arousal ticking at his touch and voice in your ear. damn him and his deep sandalwood cologne, the ease in which he affects your body.

you gotta stay focused.

your hands find his, lightly gripping them and slowly sliding them back to your hips. it hurts to do, and your fluttering stomach isn’t helping. “nuh uh, pa, we’ve been looking forward to this for too long. sit and let me finish those scars.”

that’s interesting, to say the least. “hmm?” he hums, gripping your hips a bit, surprised at the denial. that’s not usual for you as it doesn’t take much for you to melt at his touch. it’s often him talking you down, not the other way around. there have been many events y’all have shown up to late because some touches got a bit too heated.

he’s still pressing kisses up your jaw, slow and steady. “you tellin’ me to behave? hell gotta be unusually cold.” you can’t help but laugh at that. he’s got a smart ass mouth, and you wonder what he’ll be saying by the end of the night. “I’m just excited. we look good as hell and we definitely have to take some pictures and tiktoks. put that away,” you say, patting near but not directly on the front of his pants, “and sit down.”

he hums again, eyebrow twitching with restraint. that was a low move, you know how much he loves your hands on him. touching, feeling, soothing… he just chalks it up to your touchy nature, though. he supposes you’re right, you did your thing making the costumes and the least he can do is keep his hands to himself for now. “mhm… whatever you say, captain,” he mumbles lowly.

incorrect. if it was whatever you say, you wouldn’t have to stage such a scheme.

“let me go get my makeup stuff,” you call as you walk back to the bathroom. ony plops onto the bed in waiting. when you come back, you lightly press your hand against his bare chest to direct him to lay on the bed. his eyebrows raise but he doesn’t say anything until you crawl on top of him and straddle his waist.

“‘scuse me?” he grumbles, his hands finding their place on your hips. “all this ain’t even needed.” you’ve never had to do anything like this for him before, but surely it’s not necessary for you to be pressed up against his groin like this. ain’t no way.

you roll your eyes, fully leaning into it. “relax. you’re too tall and this angle is better. now be still,” you mumble, starting to grab your brushes for the eye scar first. “close em.”

he huffs as he closes his eyes, hands inching just slightly to caress your butt as you work. your scent wafts over him as you take your time, making sure to set it properly in case he sweats throughout the night.

once the eye is done, you shuffle down his body to get to work on his next scar, not so accidentally brushing up against him as you unbuckle the harness on his chest.

“• ᥫ᭡ •” he grumbles your name. it’s a warning tone, not unlike what you’ve heard before.

“shhh.” you hush. “I’m focusing. the artist is at work.”

your tongue sticks out slightly in concentration, trying to make the scar look as realistic as possible with your meager tools. your hands lightly brush his abdomen and chest, fixing small mistakes and adding detail.

he lets out a breath, looking up to distract himself.

“you almost done? teasin’ ass.”

“hush, pa. you simply can’t rush perfection. and stop breathing so heavy.”

“s’your fuckin’ fault, princess. all up on me like this. you must want some dick before we leave or somethin’.”

“hush! your gutter brained self. don’t you usually have more self control?”

he let’s out another huff as he closes his eyes, trying to focus on anything but your hands on him. it’s damn near impossible. “sorry, baby,” he murmurs. he tries to keep his mind clear, think about ordering the uber and whatever else is needed to ensure a good time tonight.

he should make sure you eat and drink some water… and do the same for himself. you’re both late so everyone else should already be there. what else…

after adding the finishing touches, you lean to press a tender kiss to his abs, looking up at him with slightly doed eyes. he stops his train of thought, gaze immediately shooting down to watch you, eyebrow twitching and mind filling with the raunchiest thoughts.

this angle, those lips, the way your hands rest on his skin… he sees a slight twinkle in your eye and he gets a feeling tonight's going to be a long one.

“you doin’ this shit on purpose,” he almost groans. you’re just inches away from where he wants you. if you really wanted him to cool off, you wouldn’t keep doing what you know gets him going.

you roll your eyes again and pat his abdomen a couple times before sitting up and looking at your handiwork. the scar on his eye is quite simple, but the one on his chest actually looks good and detailed. shoutout youtube. a few inches below the chest scar lies your lip print, matching the lipstick you applied earlier.

“oh, relax, would you? just marking my territory. they’re gonna try to eat you up, and I refuse to let them get their grubby little hands on you. I’m all done,” you say casually, as if your possessive words won’t get a rise out of him. he squints, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. you can be quite the tease, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. he won’t call you on your shit just yet.

brat.

“whatever you want, mama.”

mhm, it sure will be. you’re determined to make that your reality.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

after many tiktoks and accidental brushes and some pregaming with eye contact a lil too much on the lustful side, you both climb into the uber. ony holds the door for you as always and joins you in the back.

the uber driver is possibly in her thirties and doesn’t speak aside from the normal greeting. the music is low and a bit boring, and she just can’t seem to keep her eyes off the mirror, taking in the obvious eye candy that is onyankopon.

on one hand, you can’t blame her. as always, he looks fine as shit doing absolutely nothing. muscles all on display, tattoos glistening with his moisturized skin, hair and beard trimmed to perfection. he’d catch the eye of damn near any seeing person, so you get it. you do.

but on the other hand, it makes your nose scrunch. yeah, he’s fine, but he’s also quite obviously yours with the way the two of you are sitting together, his arm over your shoulder and hand resting over yours.

he’s quiet but touchy. it doesn’t seem to be enough for the driver to stop stealing glances.

without another thought, you reach over and grab his chin, fingers tickled by his beard. his gaze leaves the window to look at you, but you’re already leaning out of view. leaning to press a kiss on the column of his neck. another on the sweet spot right at the end of his jaw, but this time you lightly suck on his skin, your tongue tracing against his pulse just slightly so.

soft and simple, but the action speaks louder than anything. the woman’s eyes meet the road and don’t part from it again.

and ony’s sitting at attention.

he licks his lips, watching as you sit straight. your eyes meet his, low-lidded and almost prideful. he knows what that was, he’s not stupid. the drinks have you going, if your gaze is anything to go by. you’ve already been a problem tonight, and he prays for relief from the way he’s already pressing up against his pants.

when you both arrive at the venue, you can hear distant calls of “ayeee, luffy!” and “damn, zoro got lost again!” it makes you grin cheesily and give a silly wave as you drag ony to the bar.

you seem undisturbed, but ony’s struggling. he hasn’t been able to calm down since the beginning of the night and it’s barely even started. he works his jaw, trying to diminish that ache he’s feeling in his gut. he doesn’t know what’s going on with you, maybe you’re feeling a way, but he likes it. it’s just… hard.

he focuses his mind instead on keeping you safe. there’s a lot of people here and it’s his mission for the night to make sure you have a good time without any mishaps, especially on his end.

“you gonna drink some more, baby?” you ask, fluttering your lashes up at him. you know his mind can get nasty when the liquor hits him, and you’re going to make sure it hits good.

those fluttering lashes make him feel another tug in his gut. you’re looking up, capturing him with those eyes, and he can’t help but think of them rolling back, back, back…

“just a bit, sweet girl. gotta keep an eye out for you,” he smiles down at you.

fuck, you’re so pretty. he’d do just about anything for you when you look up at him like that. your lower lip juts out in response and he feels himself twitch in his pants again.

yeah. long night for sure.

“I want you to have fun too, daddy,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck. “you don’t have to worry about me.”

oh, you’re wrong for calling him that right here and now. he licks his lips, gazing down at you. he sees that twinkle in your eyes again and sees how your smile is almost too sickeningly sweet.

ony’s arms wrap around you and bring you close as the people at the bar start to get rowdy with the next song playing. the adjustment takes him out of it just enough for him to refocus. “I know, baby, but let daddy worry. keeps you safe,” he answers, tapping your ass a couple of times before turning to the bartender to call out his order.

you hum to yourself. you were hoping for a bigger reaction to that… he turns to you again, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “you drank that water I gave you, right?”

you roll your eyes but nod, “and ate so there’s something on my stomach. you already asked me all this, I’m fine.” he’s always like this, though you appreciate it. he keeps track of your drinks and makes sure you hydrate like a doting daddy dom should, and you’re glad that you don’t have to worry about it. all you have to focus on is having fun.

and you’re definitely focused on that.

you let out a small yelp when you feel a pinch on your butt. “attitude. you’ve rolled your eyes at me three times now. fix it, • ᥫ᭡ • ,” he corrects. he’s speaking directly in your ear, sending a slight shiver through your body.

you hadn’t even realised he was keeping count. you nibble on your bottom lip in response and nod. god, you love it when he gets like that. shit makes you tingle. “sorry. won’t do it again.”

“mhm,” ony only hums in response. he can make your eyes roll if you really want to play like that…

no, he needs to focus.

more drinks are had and you’re feeling good. ony can see it in your eyes, can feel it in your touch. drinking makes you extra touchy, especially on nights like tonight, and your words and glances are becoming more teasing by the minute.

“c’mon, love, let’s find the group,” ony says in your ear as he grabs your hand. you feel another chill travel down at the way his lips tickle the skin of your earlobe. “don’t let go of me.”

he guides you through the crowd of assorted cosplays, hand wrapped securely around yours, and it’s almost like a movie scene with the music playing and the sight of him just being him.

he’s just so fine it makes you want to jump his bones. the back muscles on this man…

he’s guiding you easily, no one able to ignore his towering stature as he pushes through. his eyes are trained ahead of you, but he’s holding you securely, thumb lightly tracing on your skin in a soothing gesture…

it’s reassuring, soft, all that you’re used to. you imagine that hand wrapped around your neck, seeing flashes of him grabbing and taking without restraint.

the plan.

right, the plan.

he peeks back at you just to check that you're good, catching sight of how your eyes trail over his figure. he shakes his head with a small smirk as he looks ahead and weaves through the crowd. his princess is just as enamored with him as he is you. it takes a lot out of him to keep from turning around to kiss those lips.

he catches sight of a familiar looking buzzed head over the crowd, his height always an advantage. “yo, con!” he calls.

the shorter man whips around, almost losing his balance as he greets the two of you. he’s wearing an orange and black volleyball jersey with the number five on it, a lazy but fitting cosplay of tanaka from haikyuu. he’s grinning widely, obviously well beyond drunk, and his arm is around his newest flavor of the month.

as you laugh at his antics and chat, ony wraps his arm around your waist. he presses you up against his side as someone squeezes past you, always vigilant of the surrounding space to ensure your safety. you hadn’t even realized someone was trying to pass. it makes your lashes flutter up at him momentarily. you hum a small sound of surprise, the sound tainted with intrigue.

he can feel your eyes and it makes him warm. there’s a tension building that feels just slightly unfamiliar, a spark in your eye that’s just… different.

the four of you chat before connie leads you all to the rest of the group, located in a reserved section.

when you reach them, the both of you are welcomed with cheers. you do a cute little spin as the girls begin to compliment your outfit, shaking your ass as you stick your tongue out playfully. you’re definitely feeling those drinks, and ony can feel his mind starting to stray again.

ony holds your hand as you move, licking his lips as he acts as an anchor for you. he wants to reach around and give that ass a nice smack, hype you up because his baby definitely knows how to throw some. he has to hold back and just grin, else he loses his manners and takes you right then and there.

you’re hypnotizing him. tempting him.

he controls himself. he can tell you’re feeling good, and that’s all he wants.

but damn your ass moves like fucking water, he realizes for the umpteenth time. it’s hard to look away, almost impossible. side to side, in a circle… shit. what was he thinking about again? something about staying focused…

his thoughts are interrupted by voices of a few others from nearby as they join in on the cheering. one girl in particular calls out ‘she throwin’ that pirate booty!’ and that seems to pique the interest of more in the area.

ony’s eyebrow twitches.

“not too much, now,” he grumbles, pulling you back to his side. you just laugh and lean up against him again, your chest pressing against him. his eyes flicker downwards for a moment, catching sight of how you look in that position.

maybe just a quick trip to the bathroom… no, he shouldn’t.

he wants to, though. wonders if you’d care about anyone hearing your sounds or if you’d just let them out like a good girl. he can see you, spread out before him, moaning and fucked out while he fulfills his fantasy of fucking you like a slut.

his gaze flicks back up to your eyes. you smile and tilt your head slightly. as if you know how much he’s struggling and you find joy in it.

and you do. you can see it in his eyes, that desire. he’s buzzed, though he doesn’t really show it. his eyes are a bit distant, and you can tell his mind is filled with those thoughts you crave for him to act on. he’s not looking at you like his princess right now and you want him to step out on that.

he’s saved, once again. if there’s one thing sasha can’t do, it’s read a room.

you have to keep from rolling your eyes as she starts on about how grateful she is for everyone being together, ever the sentimental drunk. you love her down, but this happens every time she gets even a sip of liquor.

she demands pictures for memories, something about scrapbooking and showing the kids in the future, before she asks a random person to act as photographer. everyone lines up best they can, choosing their best angles. ony sticks close to you, hands almost glued to your ass. picture after picture, silly photos and serious photos. soon complaints start flying at sasha’s demands for different poses.

the group is able to break free after a few more pictures, and soon everyone is chatting, dancing, and vibing. it really is a nice party, definitely worth the hype, and worth the wait as well. most went all out on their outfits, the dj knows what the hell she’s doing, and the amount of wallflowers is surprisingly low.

the group is having a lot of fun, which isn’t exactly surprising as you all can have fun anywhere, especially with the drinks flowing. there’s so much laughing, so many candid photos that’ll be saved and used as blackmail… but no matter how much fun is going down, you’re still distracted by every move your man makes. it’s the same for him too.

his hands don’t leave you for longer than a minute. he’s constantly touching, caressing, looking at you like he wants to do any number of things to you, and you’re right there with him. whispering in his ear, pressing up against him, giving him those eyes. your friends are side eyeing and laughing, knowing that you both will probably be “excusing” yourselves soon.

it feels like it’s just the two of you, glued to each other as you both dance the night away, parting only for more drinks. you do moves that ony’s never seen you do before, guiding his hands all over you and looking him in the eye as a silent message of ”this is all yours”.

but despite everything, he hasn’t broken yet, no matter how close he’s come time and time again. it’s frustrating to you from the outside looking in. his self control is astounding to an irritating degree and it’s you who’s starting to get worked up beyond the point of return.

but ony’s definitely on the brink.

“fuck. drivin’ me crazy,” he groans, head falling to rest against your shoulder. he’s not sure how he’s still standing. he should’ve taken you home so long ago with the way you keep tempting him like he won’t do anything about it. “you look so fuckin’ good. keep doin’ yo’ shit, ma.”

“yeah?” you ask, reaching back to pull him close. his ear is by your mouth, so you press a kiss to his skin, tongue darting out to tease. it sends a chill down ony’s spine and straight to his dick.

“yeah, baby. too damn perfect,” he breathes out. he runs the tip of his nose up your neck, that damn scent making him want to devour you. he’s gripping you tighter, breathing you in deep.

you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. you laugh, turning in his arms to hook your own around his neck. “and all yours, yeah?” his hands slide down to your bum, giving a nice squeeze.

“all fuckin’ mine,” he murmurs, eyes low as his gaze meets yours.

you nibble on your lip. he just looks so good… the look in his eyes, the way he’s gazing at you like he could take you up against the wall right now has you flooding your underwear. it’s almost too much and the way his hands squeeze and pull you closer like you weigh nothing is only making it worse.

you don’t know what possesses you to say what you say next, maybe it’s the alcohol or the audacity or the combination of both, but you pull him closer by his nape and whisper in his ear.

“so why do you keep fucking me like you’re scared?”

ony pauses.

he must be hearing things. maybe the music is too loud or you mixed up your words because there’s no way you just said that shit.

it’s almost like you can feel the temperature drop.

“repeat that,” he grumbles assertively. you shudder just slightly at his cold tone, but you don’t falter.

“you heard me,” you shrug. “you fuck like you’re scared. you shouldn’t be surprised to hear that.” and you really think he shouldn’t. isn’t this what it’s all been about? his fear of hurting you? it’s not a lie. he is scared.

but it’s all in your delivery. you’re making him sound like a punk and he doesn’t like that.

he doesn’t like how you’re shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, he doesn’t like how you’re disrespecting your daddy, and he definitely doesn’t like how you seem to think you’re on some type of higher ground.

“come to the bathroom real quick,” he mumbles. he grabs your wrist— firm, not tight— and starts to guide you.

you smile and bite your lip as he tugs you forward. “did I say something wrong?” you ask, your voice a slight purr as you press yourself against him. one of your hands trails up his arm, sending tingles up his skin and down to his hopefully well hidden hard on. your touch is slow and teasing, and your nails scratch him just enough, the way you know he likes.

you wish you could use your tongue instead, trace those tattoos all the way to that third leg of his. have him looking down at you and calling you just what you are— pretty, desperate, nasty. just for him.

he looks down at you with a raised brow, almost irritated with the way he keeps fucking twitching in his pants and definitely irritated with whatever the fuck you have going on. “chill.”

ony’s jaw is set at your touch as he continues walking. your gaze, your hands, your teasing… it’s all too much. he doesn’t know what it is, the tequila maybe?

no, you’ve been on one all fucking night.

he doesn’t get it, but it’s gotten to him. he wonders if it would really be that bad if he bent you over in the stall and just…

the two of you finally find a family bathroom towards the back of the venue. ony holds the door open for you, follows you inside, and locks the door behind him.

“you upset or somethin—“

“what’s goin’ on with you? huh?” he grumbles out, hooking his finger through your harness and pulling you against him. you gasp as your hands fly to rest on his shoulders for balance.

“what—“ you try to speak, only to be interrupted by him again. his tone is stern, no room for bullshit. he’s been tempted and teased and drawn to an edge he hasn’t had to endure with you before.

“don’t even try to play wit’ me. whatchu doin’?” he asks.

you swallow, looking up at him and taking in his unfamiliar demeanor. his eyes are serious, eyebrows pinched in an irritated frown that makes your knees weak. “I’m not- I just wanted to have fun tonight, that’s all,” you answer.

his eyebrow twitches and he takes a moment to take a breath, staring you down. “that’s all,” he repeats dully.

and then his hand slides up from your harness, wrapping around your jaw as the other grips your hip. he holds your face in place firmly, bending slightly to hover above you. the look in his eyes… your heart is racing and he can probably feel your pulse, but something else is pulsing between your legs.

“you think I’m stupid? that what you think?” he asks. his voice is almost soft, but not in the tender way you’re used to. “I’ma be nice and give you a second chance cause I love yo’ ass. don’t lie to my face again.”

despite the obvious predicament, you’re feeling pretty good about yourself. this is what you wanted, what you asked for, what you knew he wanted and it feels so damn good. just like you knew it would.

“trying to get you to stop holding back,” you mumble truthfully.

he pauses again.

you’ve gotta be fucking kidding. here he is trying to have a good night with his girl, keeping an eye on you so that you can have a fun ass time without worry, and the whole time you’ve been playing little games.

ony hates games.

“that’s why you been out here like this the whole fuckin’ night?” he asks in a grumble, his hand tightening its grip just slightly. “pushin’ up on me, teasin me, actin’ like I don’t love you and give you everything, being a damn brat? my good girl? can’t be. you know better than that, ain’t never done shit like that.”

your breath hitches, but you keep going. “you don’t get it,” you speak up. “the fact that I had to do this in the first place is your fault. I asked and tried to talk, but you weren’t listening!”

“watch yo’ tone,” he immediately mumbles. his hand slides down from your jaw to your neck and gives a squeeze.

a reminder. he can only allow so much.

you roll your eyes. “you have to admit I’m right!” you stubbornly press. this is your chance to air your grievances, you have to get it all out. “you want this, I know you do. you hold back too much and it’s not fair. if you ever found out I wasn’t all in, you’d be upset just like me! I don’t understand why you can’t just—“

you’re interrupted by his lips as he kisses you. really kisses you.

it’s not the usual slow and sensual kiss, the ones packed with love and intention. it’s messy and rushed, his hand sliding from your hip to the curls at your nape and gripping. your eyes roll back just slightly at the feeling. it’s overpowering, it’s knee-weakening, it’s raw. it’s everything you wanted.

he controls the kiss, he bites, and his hand never leaves your neck. you don’t even realize that you’re moving back and back until you’re pressed up against the wall, closed in by his larger frame.

he pulls back, holding you in place by your hair. this is what you’ve been craving, and it’s so delectable now that you’re getting it. it’s a whole new ony, rough and demanding in his movements. you’re just about putty in his hands.

“damn,” you breathe out, trying to gather yourself.

it’s ridiculous. ony blames himself for his regretful decision of controlling his more aggressive urges. you obviously want it more than he thought, need it if your brattiness is any indication.

the fact that you’d go so far as to play him, try to control him? it’s pissing him off. you’re a good girl. this isn’t what you do.

he’s got something for your ass.

“we’re going home,” he grumbles lowly.

and home you go.

the two of you leave the bathroom, ony’s back tense as he leads and weaves through the crowd. a particular group won’t move even after a couple of excuse me’s from him. they just look at him and then away dismissively as if they’re not blocking the walkway. rude as fuck, to be honest.

ony raises his voice with a lift of his eyebrows. he doesn’t have time for this. “I know y’all fuckin’ heard me. move,” he demands. the looks you receive in return are hilarious, looking a mix of offended, humbled, and maybe a little afraid. the group starts stepping to the side as ony stares them down.

it’s such a fucking turn on.

the journey outside is all a blur. ony hasn’t said a single word to you. he said farewells to the group and guided you to the uber. his touches haven’t stopped, but his gaze is set on the window. his jaw is tight and his grip on you is firm.

the uber back is quiet. the driver has a car on the smaller side, so ony’s almost to the point of having to scrunch himself just to fit. he knew he should’ve ordered a different one, but it would’ve taken too long. he’s sitting leaned against the window, his long legs to the side for comfort because they wouldn’t fit otherwise.

your legs are almost thrown over his. one of his arms is wrapped around your shoulder and the other hand is wrapped around your ankle, thumb lightly tracing over the anklet he bought you.

you’re sitting, fiddling with your fingers.

you’re excited. you’re going to get what you want, what you’ve been needing, and you can say that the night is going according to plan. maybe even better. you have no idea what the night entails, but you’re looking forward to every moment.

the tension is so delicious. the look in his eye, the way he kissed you… you’ve never seen him like this, felt him like this. it’s invigorating and it’s hard to feel bad for your antics. you tried to talk, you did. but tonight happened and apparently it was needed.

there’s just… an inkling, a very small one, that says you have no idea what you’re about to go through.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

visual. visual. visual. visual.

ony crosses his arms as he looks at you, admiring your form and your nerve. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, bare just for him, eyes holding a glint of smugness as you look up.

you’re proud of yourself, ego probably on ten. you don’t even have the decency to look apologetic. instead you’re watching, waiting like you’re entitled to a treat after your little game. your bratty, irritating game of pushing a man who isn’t usually pushed.

his sweet girl… not even aware of the consequences you’re about to endure. he has ways of humbling you. since you’ve been acting how you’re acting, he’ll give you exactly what it is your ass wants.

your gaze trails over his form and he just stands there letting you watch for a moment. his muscles bulge, his chest and arms on display. he’s got that stone face that’s never been directed to you, his tight jaw and twitching eyebrow the only indication of how he’s feeling.

“• ᥫ᭡ •,” he says lowly, getting your attention. your eyes meet his, your breath hitching. his eyes flicker over you again and you can just feel the tension thick in the air. his gaze holds so much fire, body tense and mind obviously racing.

it feels almost illegal to speak up, like the wrong words will set him off and make him snap. that’s what you’ve wanted, of course, but the atmosphere is much different when you’re actually in it. “yes?” you ask quietly. he’s silent for a moment, and then he speaks up.

“I hope you can handle what I’ma do to yo’ lil ass tonight.”

that makes your stomach jump as you nibble on your bottom lip. you sit there for a moment, a mix of excitement and arousal coursing through you. just what’s going to go down? this is uncharted territory. you don’t know what to expect.

you know one thing, though.

you won.

“I can, daddy,” you murmur softly, eyes so pretty as they look up at him. you look so sweet, like you didn’t toy with him like a fucking yo-yo tonight. he’ll make sure to do the same with you since you’re so needy for it.

“mhm, sure,” he grumbles dismissively. you don’t know shit about how he can get because you’ve never seen it. pride is a muhfucka. he reaches down and hooks a finger under your chin, lifting it. his touch makes your skin tingle. “remind me of your safeword, babygirl,” he says.

you clear your throat. “um- pineapple,” you answer.

“and your colors?”

“green is keep going, yellow is slow down or pause, red is stop,” you recite.

“good girl,” he mumbles, looking down at you. he’s still watching you like a hawk. the angle is everything. you’re fighting the urge to reach and run a hand up his abdomen, follow your touch with your tongue. something tells you touching isn’t a great idea at the moment though.

“you have to tell me if I say or do anything, anything that makes you feel some type of way. promise me, baby,” he presses. he lightly trails his thumb over your cheek, looking down at you with clouded eyes.

his voice gives you goosebumps. it’s a mix of commanding and gentle, and you feel as though this is the last sliver of tenderness you’ll see before you get your sense fucked out of you. “I promise, daddy,” you nod.

“good girl,” he rasps. he really hopes you listen because he won’t be holding back, per your request. it’s about to get really tough for you, and you did it to yourself.

his hand moves down, wrapping around your neck in a pressing grip. you feel your stomach jolt and you lick your lips as you stare up into his eyes, watching the tenderness shift just as quickly as it appeared.

“you know I’m pissed the fuck off, right?” he frowns. his eyebrows pinch together and his hand tightens around your neck. “scared,” he states. “I fuck you like I’m scared. that’s what you said.”

his voice is rough, an insight to how the night will be, and his gaze is burning. maybe you shouldn’t have said that… but it’s landed you right where you want to be. you swallow and start to answer respond, but he interrupts you. there’s nothing you could say right now to calm him down.

“nah, don’t even say shit, just gone piss me off even more,” he scoffs, his hand squeezing your neck. he steps closer, standing between your legs now. “you got a lot of fuckin’ nerve, baby. that’s okay. daddy’s gonna get you straight.”

in a flash, you’re pulled up to your feet and damn near dropped onto the ground. you let out a soft ’oof’ as you land on your knees, ony holding you by your arms. it’s so unlike him that you’re blinking in shock.

“look at me, lil girl,” he grunts, his hand sliding into your curls to grip them and tug you to look up at him. your eyebrows furrow— you’re grown, nowhere near little, but the look on his face keeps you from saying anything.

“what, youn like that? don’t like hearin’ bout yourself?” he grumbles, eyebrows pinching as he notices your shift in expression. he couldn’t care less. you were acting childish, playing your games and pushing him to do you like this.

you frown in response, feeling an attitude coming up quickly. it’s not like you didn’t try to handle it properly, he’s the one that refused to listen with his fine, stubborn ass. you go to say something, but he tugs you closer by your hair, bringing you to his pelvis.

“shut the fuck up. ion wanna hear fuck else from you unless you slobbin’ on my dick,” he fusses and jesus, mary, and joseph— that shouldn’t have made your core coil in the way that it does.

well, shit. you do exactly what he says.

you bite your lip as you look up at him, pulling his boxers down to reveal the second love of your life: ony’s big fat fucking dick. it’s long and it’s thick and it’s heavy— absolutely nothing to play with or about. his size and girth would be the source of many people’s dreams or nightmares, depending.

you press open mouthed kisses down his length as you breathe heavy, his hand clenching your hair. you make sure to look him deep in his eyes as you trail your tongue back up, from his balls to his tip. ony groans as he watches you.

you look so good like this, bratty mouth occupied and eyes on his, doing exactly what the fuck he told you. “open,” he grunts. your tongue immediately sticks out, mouth open wide, and ony takes the opportunity to drop spit from his mouth to yours.

“now get to work,” he demands.

it sends chills down your spine, his gaze unmoving as he watches his favorite fucking show. you start slow, spitting on him to act as a lazy lube, sucking his head into your mouth. you hum as you taste him, tongue swirling over his length. you make sure it’s nice and wet before your head starts to bob as you take more and more of him into your mouth, using your hands to pump the rest.

until he reaches down and pushes them off.

”nah, fuck that. no hands, mama, gimme that,” he grunts.

so damn sexy.

you do what he says, resting your hands on his waist as you take more of him into your mouth. he huffs out a breath, still looking at you with furrowed brows. “yeah, fuck. sexy ass,” he encourages. “better suck me off better than you ever have. I deserve that shit, dealin’ with yo’ bratty ass.”

you whimper around him, spit and pre building up more and more and making everything so sloppy. you take him deeper and deeper, giving him what you think to be your best. ony’s groaning, grip tightening on your hair as he starts to feel that shit in his fucking toes.

“yeah, eat that dick up. way better use for that mouth than whatever bullshit you was spittin’ earlier,” he groans. he licks his lips as his head falls back, breath deepening and shuddering at the feel of your mouth. he can hear the slick, slurping sounds coming from you and it’s damn near heaven.

he looks down again, noticing what he considers to be a half-assed attempt at taking him all the way. “quit playin’ wit me like I won’t fuck this pretty face,” he grunts, using his grip on your hair to pull you further down his length. “swallow that shit. you can do better than that. show out like you been doin’ all damn night. speed up.”

you whine around him, your pussy clenching at his words. fuck, you’re loving this. it’s everything you’ve been wanting. on your knees, ony dominating you like he should’ve always been. you bob your head faster, bubbles forming as everything becomes sloppier and sloppier, your tongue tracing under his cock. you feel a light smack on your cheek and your eyes focus on his again, blinking in surprise.

“you ain’t doin’ shit forreal. let daddy take that,” he grunts. both of his hands are on your head now, and he’s stepping forward more and more until your back meets the edge of the bed. he starts to work his hips, groaning and moaning in such a delicious tone that it makes your wetness drip down your thighs.

“fuck. too fucking good, baby,” he groans. you’re gagging a bit, hands gripping his thighs as he thrusts harder and harder. “daddy loves this shit. love making you choke on me,” he pants. “I been missin’ out, huh? treatin’ you like you too pretty to gag on this big” thrust “fuckin’” thrust “dick.” thrust.

you’re so turned on, you think you might burst. you’re gagging now, choking, so you smack his thigh a few times, tapping out. he pulls you back by your hair and you gasp for air, coughing and digging your nails in his skin as you try to gather yourself.

“color,” ony grunts. you can’t really hear him, too focused on trying to get your shit together. “huh?” you choke out, still catching your breath. your head’s almost spinning, not just from the loss of air, but from this whole damn demeanor ony has.

“what’s your color, baby?” he asks, pulling you by your hair to look up at him. and, ah, there it is, just a sprinkle of concern mixed in with the frustration. his eyes are sweeping over you, wondering if you’re okay and if he can keep going. always so considerate of you, even when he’s pissed off beyond compare.

“fucking green,” you huff, wiping your face. you’re practically on cloud nine and it has you wondering if you really are toxic, but you can’t think about all of that when your fine ass, monster dicked boyfriend is standing in front of you looking like that. your pussy’s been working overtime purring.

ony licks his lips as he watches you. it’s obvious you’re enjoying this, and he is too. there’s something about making a mess of you that makes him want to do this shit morning, noon, and night. maybe your lil ass was right, maybe he was scared.

not anymore though.

“love your stubborn ass. need to do that more often. get up and come ride what’s yours. wanna see that ass bounce,” he rumbles. he pulls the chair by the foot of the bed closer with ease and sits on the edge of the bed. “c’mon. I’m puttin’ yo ass to work.”

sheesh. you can’t believe you’ve gone so long without this, his whole, uninhibited self making your mouth water. you take a breath before pushing yourself up to stand. you throw your leg over his lap, giving him a marvelous view of your ass, and he takes the chance to smack it hard enough to sting.

“my lil slut. come put it on me, since you bad,” he mumbles. he’s once again hypnotized, always obsessed with his girl’s ass because it’s his. he’ll make sure it’s red and raw by the end of the night,

you feel him guide you into the position he wants, his usually soft and gentle touch aggressive. he maneuvers you so easily, whipping you into place like he’s just moving a pillow or something. another smack to your ass makes you moan, but his fingers playing with your pussy make you squeal.

“gotta getchu ready for me, pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip as he watches his fingers play in your homemade water park. “always so wet for me, baby, but you’re drenched tonight. you like when daddy treats you like this, huh?” he asks, almost amazed.

you whine a moan when you feel his fingers press and swirl against your clit, the digits drowning in your wetness. his other hand comes down to your other cheek, whacking your ass with vigor. “that wasn’t rhetorical,” he grumbles.

“yes, daddy, I love it,” you whine, your hips pushing back for more of his attention on your sensitive core. he smacks your ass again, again, and again, watching it jiggle and move at his touch. you’re whining and wriggling on the seat, but you let out a nasty moan when you feel his fingers slip inside.

“fuuuck,” you moan, clenching around his fingers. he’s moving expertly, fingers curling just how you like it. when he leans to add his tongue to the mix, tracing ‘o’ ‘n’ ‘y’ over and over again, your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his beard.

“mhm,” ony encourages, backing away enough to get a full view of your backside. “gonna fuck this pretty, messy pussy out the frame tonight. throw it back, lemme get a sneak peak of how you gonna take daddy’s big ass dick.”

“yes, sir,” you whine, starting to move your hips and ride his long, thick fingers. it feels so damn good, you can feel your mind slipping away and getting all fuzzy-like. your hand raises to grab your boob, squeezing and massaging it as you throw your head back.

“ohhh, it’s like that, huh? that’s a new one,” ony coos mockingly, having never heard you refer to him as such. he’s aching to reach and relieve himself if only slightly, but he can’t tear his hands away from your body for anything. “you actin’ like you respect me or some. guess I gotta treat you like this so you don’t play games in my face, huh? made me feel like a punk.”

you wish you can say you’re sorry, you really do, but with the way the night’s going? you’ll never regret this shit.

ever.

“j-just wanted all of you, daddy,” you moan, your head dipping forward as you continue to ride his fingers. his other hand slips from your ass to between your legs, starting to rub against your clit. your toes curl and another whine escapes you. “I don’t regret it, either,” you pant.

“oh, you don’t?” ony laughs. it’s almost sinister, a little too cocky and not even offended. he knows you’ll be fucked out by the end of all of this, there’s no doubt in his mind. he lands another spank to your ass, pulling his other hand away to lick it clean. “night’s still so young, sweetheart. don’t let your mouth write checks yo’ lil ass can’t cash.”

you whimper at the loss of his fingers, but you’re not wanting for long. you feel him slap his dick against your ass, obviously enamored. “just fuck me, damn,” you huff, reaching back to pump him a couple times. he groans at your touch, face scrunching because you know just how to work him.

“I need to shut you up again? cause I swear I can,” he grunts. he grabs the hand you have on him and pins it to your back before grabbing himself, lining up with your beautiful pussy, and pushing in. the sounds that both of you make should go in the hall of fame, both of you so worked up.

“ahh, ony,” you moan. he feels unreal, making himself at home in your guts. it’s got you clenching the chair with a death grip as you adjust to his size, his shallow thrusts digging into you slowly. “so big, daddy. love that dick,” you whimper.

“so why I’m doin’ the work? told yo’ ass to ride me. c’mon, mama, put on a show for your man,” he says breathlessly. he’s never been one to pretend your pussy doesn’t make him weak. he’s breathless, drowning in your perfect flower.

when you start to work your hips slowly, he has to lean back on one of his hands as he groans and rolls his eyes back. you grip him so perfectly and take him so damn well, he’s so sure there’s no better place to be than right here in you. he reaches to grab a handful of that ass and squeezes.

“so good,” you moan, moving your hips slowly as you settle into the best position you can. “daddy, you’re so perfect,” you groan, looking over your shoulder to lock eyes with him. you swear you can feel him jump within you.

he loves when you praise him back, telling him he’s in your guts or fucking you better than any man ever could. you’re looking at him with a gorgeous mix of love and lust in your eyes and it makes ony’s heart squeeze in his chest. he loves you so fucking much.

both of your breathing is deep now, lips bitten and licked in arousal and eyes low. he sits up and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you back to suck your tongue into his mouth. the kiss is sloppy and wet, and both of you can taste yourselves on the other’s tongue. you whine into the kiss as his hand wraps around the front of your neck to give a firm squeeze.

ony pulls back with a huff, his hand moving from your neck to smack your ass again. it stings so perfectly. “so why you make me out to be a punk, huh?” he asks. he can feel himself getting frustrated all over again just thinking about it. scared. he’ll show you scared. “playin in my face like that. girl, I’ll fuck yo’ pussy up. throw that ass on me before I get pissed off again.”

“anything for you, daddy,” you breathe out. “anything for you.” you start to pick up your pace, and soon you’re bouncing, bouncing, bouncing on ony’s perfect dick. he’s reaching places no one’s ever been and no one’s ever gonna be if you have any say. your moans are loud and you’re showing the fuck out.

ony’s in heaven, he’s sure of it. the way you’re gripping him, taking him so deep, the way you moan and whine for him, the perfect view he has of your reddening ass sore from his spanks… he wants to let his head fall back from the pleasure but he just can’t look away from you. you’re perfect.

“fuck, yeah, baby, take that dick. s’all yours, mama,” he groans. he can’t help but praise you, even if he’s still mad. the way you’re riding him is just undeniably, toe curlingly out of this damn world. “fuck, you workin’ me so good. ass so perfect, pussy just immaculate. keep goin’. keep fuckin’ goin.”

you whine, his words going straight to your core. your man is just everything, it’s so easy to lose yourself in him and give him the show you know he wants. he makes you feel like a fucking star. you let your head fall back, curls bouncing with each shift of your body as you reach between your legs and work your clit.

“gonna cuuum,” you whine, clenching around him. “holy fuck, ony! daddy, m’gonna—“

“push that shit out,” he grunts. it’s taking everything in him not to cum. he’s nowhere near done with you, so he reaches down to hold his base and stave off his orgasm for now. “let it go, baby. you worked hard for it. c’mon, wet daddy’s dick like only you can,” he encourages breathlessly.

it doesn’t take much longer before you’re doing exactly that, moaning his name so loud you wonder if people can hear you miles away. your hand is working yourself fast, clenching and squirting as your release washes over you in wave after wave. you pant and moan as you feel ony’s soothing hand rub up and down your back.

he leans forward to press kisses all over you. your back, your shoulders, your arms, your cheek, and finally your lips. you melt into his touch as you bask in the aftermath of your orgasm. “yeah, baby. did so fuckin’ good for daddy,” he murmurs in your ear. you hum softly, eyes closed as you just float.

you feel ony shifting, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you into his lap. he maneuvers your jelly-like body to rest against his chest. he’s careful as he lies back on the bed, rubbing your back as you curl up against him and nuzzle into his neck. his scent washes over you, comforting even if sweaty, and you let out a soft sigh,

you take some time to cool down, catching your breath and letting your body calm. ony’s hands are on you the entire time, soothing and caressing every part of you. he kisses your forehead and murmurs in your ear calmly, “take a break, babygirl. but I ain’t done with you.”

…pardon?

your eyes fly open at that.

“huh?” you ask, looking up at him like he’s insane. “are you kidding? I’m exhausted,” you rasp. and you really are. your legs and hips are sore like you just worked out, you feel all fucked out and sweaty and ready to roll over and go to bed.

ony chuckles, still rubbing your back. you’re funny if you think he’s letting you off that easy. his hand slides down to caress your ass, squeezing it. it’s sore from all that damn smacking he did. “you thought that’s all I was gonna do? nah, baby. hell no.”

you weakly raise up on your arms, looking at him incredulously. you’re met with a very serious look in his eye that actually kind of concerns you. he looks smug as he utters his next words. “I ain’t even come yet.”

your jaw drops. “what? there’s no way-“ you attempt to turn and look, not believing his ass. you just gave a five star show and he didn’t come? that’s almost offensive. ony grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him. his smile is gone, eyes looking fiery once again.

“what’s your color?”

you blink. and then you blink again. “you’re joking,” you say. but with the look in his eyes, you know he’s not. ony’s head tilts. “I told you, you asked for this. I asked if you can handle it, and you said ‘I can, daddy,’” he says, mocking your voice just slightly. “so, again, I ask: what’s your color?”

you stare at him for a moment, wondering if he’ll say ‘sike, let’s go to bed’ or laugh after a few seconds, but he doesn’t. he meets your stare with confidence, gaze never faltering. is this man insane? you wonder briefly. but there’s no way you’ll let him win or mock you. he’s right, you did ask for this and you did say you can handle it. what’s another round?

“green,” you answer firmly. you can do this, you can handle him. he’s always been so soft with you, and he’s probably tired as well, so there can’t be much else. you’re confident that you can show him just who the fuck you are.

a smile slowly crawls onto ony’s face in response. you have no idea that you’re flying right into the sun,

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

you fucked up. there’s really no other way to put it.

who would’ve guessed?

you don’t know how long it’s been or how many orgasms you’ve endured, but ony’s still going. your ass is sore from spanking, voice raspy from moaning, and you’re a mess of sweat and cum.

“daddyyyy,” you whine, your head held back by your curls as ony drills into you from below. you’re on top of him, straddling him as you lean forward on your tired arms. ony’s got a firm grip on your hair, holding you to bare your neck as he kisses and sucks and bites marks into your skin.

“shut up and take this dick,” he grunts. “told yo’ ass not to play with me. this where that shit gets you.” he’s like an animal used to captivity out in the wild for the first time in years. you’re getting so much energy from him that’s been backed up for so long, and ony just can’t stop.

“s’too much, papa, fuck, I can’t take it,” you whimper. tears are falling from a mixture of pleasure and overwhelm, your body weak from so much exertion. but it’s still so fucking good, you’ve basically just given yourself over to him to do whatever he wants.

“you know your safeword,” he huffs. every orgasm, every time you need a break, he asks you your color, and every time it’s green. he’s keeping a close eye on you despite his feral demeanor, and he can tell that you’re not done yet. he trusts you’d use your safeword even if he couldn’t tell that you reached your limit.

“you made me do this, so you deal with it. you wanna tap out, tap out. I ain’t stoppin till I’m done,” he grunts. you feel so fucking good and you’re taking all of him so well. you’re still coming, still so damn wet and responding perfectly. those tears down your face only get him going more and more because he knows he’s fucking you good.

he brings your face to his, kissing you deeply once again. one of his hands moves to grip your thigh as his tongue swirls around yours. he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling and making sounds from the aggressive kiss. he releases you once again and gets back to business.

he bucks up into you like you owe him money or something, digging into his pussy. you hiccup, eyes closing tight as you clench around him for the nth time. “fuck, fuck, fuck, please,” you whimper. your arms are shaking from the exercise, barely holding you up. after a few moments, they just give out completely.

“color, baby,” ony grunts as he slows down. he releases his grip on your hair as soon as your arms drop, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. your mind is so fuzzy, having an out of body experience with the way he just keeps pleasuring you. “g-green, papa,” you sniffle, your arms weakly wrapping around his neck.

you’re getting tired and he knows it. you’re almost at your limit and so is he. you’re so damn stubborn and just as obsessed with him as he is you. you’ve been a real trooper and he’ll admit that he underestimated you. you can keep up and handle him better than anyone.

but he’s going to come out as the winner.

“c’mon, get up. arch yo’ shit how I like it.”

you blink a few times, hesitating for just a moment as you look up at him. you’re happy to do what he wants, you‘re just a bit too blissed out to comprehend.

“you can’t hear me or sum?” he asks. his hand comes down and smacks your ass as the other holds you in place. you squeal a bit, your arms tightening around his neck. “get up and arch. wanna cum on that pretty ass.”

damn, he’s just so sexy like this. demanding, unforgiving, and so so serious. “o-okay,” you murmur, moving as quickly as you can in your weakened state to get into position. it’s almost pathetic how you can’t hold yourself up, laying your head on the pillow below you as you arch your ass into the air.

“look at you,” he croons, his hand shifting to caress your body. he rubs up your back and shoulders, reaching around you to gives your perfect tits a massage. he presses kisses down your shoulders and back before his hands meet your hips. he squeezes and grabs, shaking the prize in his eyes so that it moves in that hypnotic way he loves so damn much. “fine ass. actin’ out all damn night cause you wanna get dicked down like a fuckin’ slut.”

his hand comes down on your skin again, making you gasp softly and jump. “daddy’s needy girl, huh? freaky ass don’t want me to be nice to you. you wanna get treated like a ragdoll. hope I gave you exactly what you asked for.”

you sniffle and nod, hugging the pillow closer to you. “so much more, daddy. I-I like when you’re nice too I just needed this,” you whimper, pushing your hips back towards him in search of more of his touch.

he hums, rubbing up and down the sides of your thighs. “I know you did, babygirl, but I ain’t ask, did I?” he chuckles as he slides back into you. his hands come to either side of your waist, pulling you back to meet his slow thrusts. “you ever disrespect me like that again, this is where you gone end up. fucked up cause your damn ego is too big. don’t make me out to be a lil punk ever again, you get me?”

“I get you, papa,” you whimper, nuzzling into the comforter below you. his hips start to pick up pace and at this point, you’re just a whining and moaning mess under his touch. your toes are curled up and your eyes are finding their home in the back of your head once again.

“that’s what I fuckin’ thought. just cause I’m soft with you don’t mean I’m soft, baby. I’ll remind you over and over if I have to. pissin’ me off when you supposed to be my good girl,” he grunts, hand smacking the side of your thigh. he presses down on your waist, making you arch deeper so he can keep fucking you right.

you sniffle, more tears falling from your eyes in your overstimulation. he’s deep in you, loud squelches sounding from your weeping pussy. “m’sorry, daddy,” you whimper, hugging the pillow closer to you as he digs you out. you’re too tired and too exhausted at this point, extra sensitive in your current state. you feel bad for making him feel some type of way, hurting his pride just to get a reaction, even if it did give you what you’ve wanted.

but you’ve been humbled.

“there it is, there she goes. good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts. “been waitin’ all night for that. you sorry? tell daddy. speak up.” his hips meet yours sharper and sharper, your eyes crossing from the force of his thrusts. you whine and moan, feeling him grip your curls from behind to lift your head. “can’t hear you, baby. tell daddy you sorry,” he grumbles.

“fuuuck, i’m sorry, daddy. won’t disrespect you like that again! please forgive me,” you moan, hands gripping whatever you can for support. all you can do is take it, take it, take it, his hands holding you down by your waist and his hips never stopping. his eyes roll back and so do yours as you can feel that coil building in your stomach again.

“daddy’s gonna humble your pretty self whenever he needs to. don’t forget who run this shit,” he groans. his hands tighten around your waist and his breathing deepens into moan after moan. “keep tellin’ daddy you sorry. you want me to forgive you? you gone have to beg for it if you wanna catch this nut.”

“m’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorryyyy,” you whine and nod frantically. “want it, ony, gimme it! please, I’m so sorry! I was wrong, so fucking wrong. i’m gonna fucking come,” you huff. another smack lands on your ass and you whimper in response. “yeah, know that’s right,” ony grunts. you feel so fucking good, look so damn good. he just can’t get enough of your sounds.

“please, please, please,” you sob. “please forgive your babyyy, I’ll never please in your face again!” ony chuckles and lands another spank to your ass. you start to clench around him as your release crashes down on you. it hits you like a truck, and you actually feel breathless, moaning loudly s you make yet another mess of the sheets. “yes, yes, yes! oh fuck, ony, so perfect,” you cry.

ony fucks you through it, jaw dropping and eyebrows furrowing at the way you clench and spasm around him. “mmmm, fuck. take that shit, come all on this dick, princess. you sound so good begging for me. I forgive you, baby, swear I do. pussy too good to stay mad at you. fuck, I’m bouta nut,” he gasps.

he pulls out quickly, working himself with his hand as his other keeps his grip on you. he comes with a loud groan, painting your ass with his release as he breathes deep. he pants as he makes sure to get every last drop on that perfect bum of yours, hips twitching from the overstimulation. “holy fuck,” he moans. if you hadn’t already come before, his moans definitely would’ve sent you over the edge.

you collapse onto your stomach as you pant, eyes fluttering closed as you sit in awe of the night. never did you think that all of that was going to happen. you breathe deeply, feeling a chill go down your spine as your body calms. your limbs feel like you just left the gym and you’re truly, without a doubt, completely fucked out. you learned your lesson.

for the most part.

ony flops down next to you as he catches his breath, his arm covering his eyes. he hadn’t even realized how pent up he was. he’ll admit, he feels better. he’s glad he’s gotten his point across. the two of you stay like that for a while, letting your breathing even out as you recover from your overstimulation.

after a while, his eyes open and immediately find you, taking in your features. you look exhausted, but in a good way. he knows you’re going to sleep well tonight… and upon closer inspection, it looks like you’re on your way to that already.

he slowly sits up and reaches over to you, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. then he quietly leaves to the en suite bathroom and grabs a towel, running it under water. while it sits, he starts the tub. he returns just as quietly and uses the towel to gently clean the mess he left on your bum, being sure not to irritate the sore skin.

he discards the towel and calls out to you softly. “hey, baby,” he murmurs as he walks towards your side of the bed. he leans over, his thumb now softly tracing your jaw.

“hi,” you greet softly, your eyes opening. today’s been a long day, but very very great. you feel so sleepy and satisfied and you’re ready for bed.

“you okay, princess? how you feelin’?” he questions. he’s looking at you intently, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. it makes your heart flutter like always. you love him so damn much.

“I’m okay, ony. I really liked it, which I’m sure you could tell,” you laugh softly. it’s true, if your current state is anything to go by. you look all kinds of relaxed and he could tell that he made you come quite a few times tonight.

“you sure?” he asks again, hand now softly caressing your hip. he’s gentle as ever, back to being the ony that you’re used to. careful, attentive. “tell me bout myself if you need to,” he murmurs, making you laugh tiredly in response.

“• ᥫ᭡ •, baby, I’m serious,” he mumbles, cupping your cheek. “I love you. I need to know you’re good.” you can see the sincerity in his eyes and it makes you smile fondly. this man love loves you and you’re very grateful for him.

“I’m good, ony. I promise,” you reassure. you’re better than good, honestly. you’re fully satisfied, still secure in the fact that ony loves you and would never hurt you. he smiles and caresses your cheek for a little longer.

“good,” he murmurs, hands caressing you nonstop. his touch is so soothing that it’s almost putting you to sleep. “you were so perfect for me tonight, baby. you did so well taking all of me… I’m proud of you.” his words make you smile and he leans to press a kiss to your lips. “thanks, pa. love you so much,” you say softly.

“I love you more, babygirl,” he croons and kisses you once more. you look so beautiful, all tired and satisfied, looking up at him with heavy eyelids. he knows you’re seconds from sleep, but after such a long night the both of you really need to get clean.

“c’mere, princess,” he mutters, shifting to scoop you up into his arms. “gonna get you all cleaned up and then we’ll sleep, okay?” he says. you nod, curling up against him as your eyes fall shut. he presses a kiss to your forehead and carries you to the bathroom.

he sets you down first and then he follows to slide behind you, both of you sinking into the hot water with a sigh. ony’s eyes shut for a moment as he holds you close to him, rubbing your thigh tenderly. he stays like that for a while, feeling you lean back against him. you’re in bliss, just being held by him while the water relaxes your tired muscles.

eventually, he leans to press a kiss to your shoulder. he starts to wash you, murmuring soft reassurances in your ear. he’s careful, his touch making you hum softly, and you just about melt into his arms. he cleans you both, taking his time to caress and kiss whatever he can reach. he needs to make sure there’s no underlying tension after such a night, and he’s glad to see that you really are okay. just exhausted.

soon there both of you are dry and ony changes the sheets as you do your nighttime routine, wanting to make sure you both are as comfortable as you can be. when you exit the bathroom, you drop onto the bed with a light groan. ony chuckles and slides in next to you, pulling you close.

your back is against his chest, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck as your scent takes over his senses. he presses several tender kisses to your skin as he holds you close. you hum lightly in response, eyes closed as you bask in his sweet touch.

“I love you, princess,” he murmurs reverently. it’s the last thing you hear before sleep overcomes you.

a/n: started this in feb lol. you know how you take a picture but stare at it too long and start to hate it? yeah. me thinks I like the end product, though. I hope ya like itttt! feedback always welcome and wanted <3

[todosdream]

Omg the mood board for the next Ony fic 😭 gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

IT’S COMING I PROMISE LMAOOO

my time management: 👎🏾

my writer’s block: 📈

my opinion of this fic: 📈📉📈

but it WILL be posted soon, I mean it this time 😂

[todosdream]

icarus | ony

the moodboard!

coming soon!

[todosdream]

So glad to see you back online! Patiently awaiting more like anon ❤️

thanks so much for the support, gosh 😭🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

icarus ft ony will definitely be dropping within a week’s time! smutty smut smut

[todosdream]

Hope you are well ❤️❤️ I reread stress relief about once a week! Looking forward to more fic from you!

ugh I so needed this! I started so many different fics but didn’t have the motivation to sit and finish cause life was whoopin me. I’m so glad you like it bby! 🫶🏽 Imma be back on it, be on the lookout 🫡

[todosdream]

This TikTok reminded me of our new fave couple 😭😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8YrcGKD/

BABES!!! I literally already had this bookmarked to use for a blurb for them! you see the vibesss 😂😂

[todosdream]

clingy | ony

216 wrds. just a mini, fluffy blurb! black reader. some cursing.

just a lil sum until I can really sit and write :)

“baby, come on. we ain’t got shit to do today, why you tryna get up?” ony grumbles, half asleep. his grip around your waist is tight, head on your tummy. it’s such a cozy day, the rain falling outside and the weather slightly cool. ony loves gloomy weather because the cuddles always hit different. he’ll never admit how clingy he can be, which is why you grab your phone and point it at him, clicking record.

“y’all see this? this y’all’s mans. a big baby,” you tease. he usually hits you with the, ‘mane, stop playin’,’ but this time he has no intentions of doing so. “I sure the fuck am. put that phone down and scratch my scalp, mama,” he grumbles, squeezing you tighter. he ignores the phone, at this point you have enough pictures and videos that he couldn’t care less if you took another. he’s tired, it’s been a long week, and every weekend he looks forward to your scalp scratches.

“ony!” you laugh, pinching his shoulder. “love, it’s wash day. you know how long that takes. I barely even wanna do it, but I need to.” it’s true, you couldn’t push off wash day. you’ve been trying to grow your curls, so taking the utmost care of them is important. “book with keisha,” he mutters. “I’ll pay for whatever. rub them hands down my back like I like.”

“wha— onyankopon!” you let out a loud laugh.