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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

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WHAT THESE BITCHES WANT FROM A NIGGA Part 4

Part 4. There should be 2 more parts in this

Here is a lil fic inspired by me listening to way too much DMX song

This is kind of short

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, the tension in my shoulders making it feel like I was about to snap. I had left Jax back in the mall, but all I could think about was how he crossed a line. He had no right to do that. I was fuming, my anger boiling inside of me as I drove aimlessly through the streets, trying to cool down.

"Where's Jax?" Zaria's voice broke through the angry muttering, but I didn't feel like responding. I just turned the volume up on Spotify, trying to drown out the noise in the car. I didn't want to hear it. I didn’t want to hear their damn questions.

But of course, Shantelle wouldn't let it go. "Ony, what's wrong with you? Where is Jax?" she asked again, her voice sharp, demanding.

I bit my lip, trying to hold my frustration in, but it was no use. I turned the volume even higher, letting the music drown out her voice. I could hear the bass thumping in my chest, but it wasn’t enough to silence the storm inside me.

And then, like she had the damn ability to command a damn army, Shantelle shouted, “Onyankopon, pull over NOW!”

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the wheel. The sudden command sent a jolt through me, but I didn’t argue. I swung the car sharply to the side and pulled over to the curb, the engine rumbling as I slammed the brake. My hands were shaking now, my fingers almost numb from how tightly I was holding on. I was pissed, but it wasn’t just anger it was the feeling of being out of control.

The car came to a stop, and the air felt too thick. Too heavy. I didn’t move, and neither did they. It was like the silence screamed louder than any of the questions they were about to ask. I just stared ahead, not wanting to look at either of them.

Shantelle's voice was the first to break the quiet. "Ony, what the hell is going on with you?" she said, softer this time, but the concern was evident. "I get it, you're mad, but... why did you just leave like that?"

I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t. My mind was still replaying the scene at the store, the look on YN’s face when she saw the anniversary date on the pendant. The way everything hit her, like it hit me when I first laid eyes on her again. I couldn't go back, couldn't undo what had already been done. And now Jax... why the hell did he have to show her that?

My chest tightened, the frustration of it all choking me. I slammed my hand on the dashboard, making the plastic rattle. "He had no right," I muttered under my breath.

Zaria, still from the backseat, leaned forward. "What are you talking about, Ony?" she asked, her tone quieter now, trying to gauge the situation. "What did Jax do?"

I let out a sharp breath, my whole body tight with frustration. "He showed her the damn pendant," I said through clenched teeth. "He showed her everything—the anniversary date, the piece I designed for us. He just... he put it in front of her like it was some damn gift, like I wasn’t still working through my shit with her."

I felt the heat rise in my chest, my pulse hammering in my ears. "I’m trying to fix things, but every time I take a step forward, someone comes along and messes it up. And Jax? He knew what it meant, he knew how much I wanted to make it right, but he just had to be the fucking hero."

Shantelle’s eyes softened, and she turned slightly in her seat to face me. "You can’t control everything, Ony. You’re not in charge of everyone’s actions. Jax was just trying to help. Hell, he doesn’t know the depth of the situation. But you can’t keep running away from it."

I huffed, feeling the sting of her words, but there was some truth in them. I couldn't keep running. I couldn’t keep dodging everything, waiting for it to fall into place on its own. This was on me now.

I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to collect myself. "I’m not running away," I said quietly, my voice now more calm but still raw. "But I need space. I need time to figure out how to fix this, how to make it right with YN. It’s like... I don’t even know where to start anymore."

Zaria, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up then. "Maybe you need to stop trying to fix it and just... talk to her. You know, have a real conversation. You’ve been running from that for too long."

I clenched my jaw again, the sting of her words hitting harder than I expected. Talk to her. Could it really be that simple? Was I that afraid of the truth? Of what YN might say to me?

Before I could answer, Shantelle cut in, her voice now softer, more understanding. "Sometimes, man, you gotta face the mess to fix it. It’s messy right now, but that doesn’t mean it’s over. Just... take a breath. Talk to her. And stop running."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with the realization that maybe they were right. Maybe I had to stop running from this, from her.

I finally took a deep breath, nodding slowly as I wiped my hand over my face. "Yeah. You're right. I gotta stop running."

Zaria, ever the blunt one, leaned back in her seat and grinned. "So... can we go back to the mall now, or are we going to sit here and have an emotional breakthrough every time?" She flicked her hair over her shoulder, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in my chest easing just a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Let’s go back," I said, starting the engine again. "But I’m not buying anyone else shit today."

Shantelle rolled her eyes, but I could tell the mood had shifted. It wasn’t all fixed, but at least for now, I wasn’t alone in this. And maybe just maybe I could fix things with YN too.

The words came out sharper than I expected, frustration dripping from each one. I stared straight ahead, refusing to look at either of them in the backseat as I poured it all out.

“The fucked up thing is, I did talk to her,” I started, the anger in my chest bubbling over again. “I really did. I told her I was sorry. I apologized a thousand fucking times. She told me to leave, man. She aired me out, made sure I knew exactly what I did. I wasn’t even mad about that part, ‘cause I deserved it, but damn, that shit stung.”

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the words and the memories hitting me all over again. I could see it all in my mind the way she pushed me off when I tried to hug her, the coldness in her voice when she said, "Don't come back."

"I fell asleep on her couch, man," I continued, my voice quieter now. "She covered me with a blanket. She didn’t have to do that, but she did. Then she made breakfast for us, like nothing had happened. It’s like she still cared, but she didn’t want to admit it. I hugged her again, tried to apologize again… and that’s when she pushed me off. Told me not to come back. And that’s when I left. I had nothing left to say.”

I took a sharp breath, gripping the steering wheel again, my fingers tightening as I tried to push the memories back, but they kept creeping up. The pain was still there, still raw.

"I went to the studio after that," I muttered, the words barely leaving my mouth. "Thought maybe I could drown myself in work, you know? E and Connie were there, but it wasn’t the same. It never is. I was sitting there trying to figure out how to fix myself, how to fix... us."

A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "But then, of course, Connie comes at me with his usual bullshit. All up in my face like always. And you know what made him stop? When he realized I was crying over her. And that’s how I ended up here. In the middle of this damn mess, just trying to breathe." I shot a quick glance at them in the backseat, my frustration bleeding through in my voice. "So don't fucking ask me another question, alright? I'm trying to deal with it in my own way."

The car fell silent for a few moments. I felt the tension between us, thick and uncomfortable, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I didn’t want to explain myself any further, didn’t want to justify how I was feeling or why things had gone so wrong. I was done with the questions, the probing. I just needed some space, some time to think. Maybe after I calmed down, I’d be able to figure out how to make things right again.

I could feel the tension rising in the house as I stood there, my back to the wall, the weight of the day and everything that had happened just weighing on me. Zaria was still fuming, her words hanging in the air as I helped carry the gifts inside.

“Why you always gotta leave, man? You never come home. Now, you're here and you wanna bounce again? What the hell, bro?” She was firing shots at me, but I didn't have the energy to argue. I didn’t even look at her as I walked inside, focused on getting the damn gifts to the right people.

Mom was already eyeing me from the kitchen, her hands on her hips, probably already forming a million questions she wasn’t gonna let me dodge. I handed her the Coach bag, watched her face light up in surprise, but it didn’t stop the worry in her eyes. She'd been looking at me like that all day, but I wasn't ready to face it. Not yet.

I gave Grandpa and Dad their watches high-end, sleek but understated. I knew they'd appreciate them more than they'd let on. Grandma got her Louis Vuitton bag, and I knew that would be the cherry on top of her collection she'd been growing for years. She wasn’t the type to show off, but I could tell that bag would have a special place in her heart.

“Where’s Jax?” Mom asked, looking around like she was about to lose her patience.

No one answered at first, but just as I was about to look around the corner, I heard footsteps a loud thud, then a door slamming. And there he was, Jax, storming in like he was about to burn the house down. He made a beeline straight for me. His eyes were full of fire, and before I could even brace myself, he shoved me hard.

I stumbled back a step, a growl rising from my throat. The hell was this now? He wasn’t the type to pull shit like this.

“You wanna square up, Jax?” I said, my voice low but dangerous. "Step outside, right now."

There was a pause, thick with tension, as we stood there sizing each other up. The entire room went silent Mom, Grandpa, even Dad was eyeing us now. Zaria had stopped talking too, her mouth agape at the scene unfolding.

Jax stood there, breathing hard, his fists clenched. It wasn’t like him to get physical. Not with me, not like this. We were brothers, sure, but we both knew how it was. You don’t lay hands on family like that unless something's seriously broken. And this? This felt like one of those things that might break us.

But I wasn’t backing down. Not anymore. Not from him, not from anyone. The way things had been going? I couldn’t afford to stay silent, even if it meant pushing everything even further into chaos.

"You really wanna do this?" I muttered, my jaw tight. "Is this how we're gonna handle shit now, Jax? Pushing me like I'm your fucking enemy?"

The silence hung thick in the air, like the weight of every unspoken word was about to explode between us. But he didn’t move, didn’t respond. He just stood there, his fists still clenched at his sides, staring me down.

At that moment, I realized: whatever had been eating at him, whatever was causing all this tension, wasn’t just about me leaving again. It was something deeper. Something that had been building for a while. And whatever it was, we needed to address it. But not now. Not here, not like this.

I exhaled, the anger starting to fizzle out. "Man... if you’re gonna fight me, just get it over with." My voice was steady, but the words felt wrong coming out of my mouth. This wasn’t the time. Not when we had so much shit to work through already.

I felt the punch land before I could even react Jax’s fist hit into my jaw, the impact sending a sharp jolt through my head. Pain flared, but it was nothing compared to the anger that surged up in my chest.

“Mama get your son before I do!” I growled, my words strained with the heat of the moment.

Mom stepped forward, trying to intervene, but Jax wasn’t having it. He shoved her back, his eyes never leaving me. He wasn’t done. “You left me in the mall over some fuck-ass pendant for a bitch that don’t want you because you a pussy.”

His words hit harder than any punch he’d thrown, and it was like something inside me snapped. The anger, the frustration it all boiled over in that instant. Everything about the last few days, the months, the years everything that had been eating at me came crashing down.

Without thinking, I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out the door. He stumbled but quickly regained his footing, his eyes wild and desperate for a fight. We were out in the front yard now, the sun barely setting, but everything felt like it was on fire.

“You wanna call me a pussy, huh?” I spat, shoving him back. “You think I’m scared of you?”

Before he could answer, I swung a fist at him, landing it square in his gut. He gasped for air but recovered quickly, retaliating with a wild punch to my side. The sting shot through me, but I wasn’t backing down.

The next few moments were a blur of fists and grunts everything felt like slow motion, the adrenaline making every movement sharper, every sound louder. I’d never fought Jax like this. We used to mess around when we were kids, but this? This was different. There was no laughing, no joking it was pure anger, frustration, and everything that had been building between us finally exploding.

Jax shoved me back, sending me stumbling into the grass. He was on me in an instant, his fist connecting with my cheek. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, but I wiped it away, standing up again. I wasn’t gonna let him win this. Not now. Not over this.

He didn’t say anything else, just kept swinging. I managed to catch his fist mid-punch, locking his arm with mine, and we were both panting, sweating, exhausted.

“You done now?” I gritted, my voice low, still shaking with adrenaline.

For a moment, Jax just stared at me, both of us panting, trying to catch our breath. His chest heaved, and there was a flash of something in his eyes anger, sure, but also pain. He wasn’t just pissed off at me. There was something deeper, something more.

I let go of his wrist, taking a step back, my blood still boiling. “Say what you need to say, Jax. But don’t think for a second that I’m backing down from you anymore.”

He stood there, his fists still clenched, but now it was like he didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t angry anymore, not in the same way. The fight had drained us both, leaving us with nothing but the rawness of everything we’d been holding in.

It wasn’t over. I knew that. We weren’t done, not by a long shot. But at least for now, the fighting was over. I turned to head back into the house, the weight of everything crashing down on me again.

When I stepped inside, Mom was standing there, her face pale, worried. She didn’t say anything, just looked at me like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

“I’m going back to LA tonight,” I said, my voice hoarse from everything that had happened.

Zaria crossed her arms. "Are you just gonna keep running away?"

I didn’t answer her, just walked past and grabbed my bag. The weight of the fight was still heavy in my chest, but it didn’t matter. Everything I thought I could fix was still broken.

But I had to go. It was all I knew how to do.

The moment I heard her voice “I guess you didn’t change, Onyankopon.” everything inside me boiled over. The anger, the frustration, the damn helplessness I’d been trying to push down for weeks all surged forward in one wave. My head snapped to her, and I saw the way she was looking at me, like she was seeing all the mistakes I’d made, all the shit I’d been trying to bury.

I didn’t even think about it. My fist pushed Jax away from me, sending him stumbling back, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking about the fight we just had. All I could see was her standing there, watching me. I didn’t care if it was my brother or anyone else in the world, I was furious and Jax was the closest thing to a punching bag at that moment.

“Why did you do it, Jax?!” I snapped, the words leaving my mouth like venom. The frustration was too much to contain. “Why did you keep messing with me like this?”

Jax, looking like he was just as pissed as I was, shot back, "So what? YN don’t want you anymore."

His words hit me like a damn brick to the chest, and that’s when everything inside me finally snapped. I pushed him again, harder this time, my chest heaving, adrenaline pumping. “Stop saying that, Jax.” My voice was low but deadly.

But he didn’t stop. "Ask her, Ony. She’s right there. Ask her, because I did."

Those words cut me deeper than anything else. It was like a knife twisting inside me. My mind was clouded with everything the fight, the anger, the hurt. I didn’t care anymore.

Before I knew it, my hand was already in motion, swinging at him, hitting him hard in the chest. The impact sent Jax stumbling backward, slamming into the front wall of the house. The loud thud echoed in my ears, and I stood there for a second, watching as he tried to steady himself.

And then I heard YN's silence. Her gaze was locked on me, and for a moment, everything felt frozen. I could feel her eyes burning into me, seeing through everything I thought I had hidden.

I walked toward her, my steps heavy. I didn’t know what to say, but I couldn’t let it hang in the air like this.

“What he said... it’s true,” I said, my voice shaky but firm. I wasn’t asking for her to respond. I just needed to hear myself say it, to face what was really going on.

She didn’t answer me right away. I didn’t expect her to. But the silence between us felt like a damn eternity. The air was thick with everything that wasn’t being said—the weight of all the shit I had done to her, the hurt I had caused.

And when she finally spoke, it wasn’t the words I wanted to hear. It wasn’t the comfort or the reassurance I was craving. No, instead, it was that distance again the one I couldn’t close no matter how hard I tried.

“I don’t want this, Onyankopon,” she said softly, but it felt like a punch to my gut. Her voice was calm, but there was a finality in it, something I couldn’t ignore.

I stood there, frozen, caught between the rage and the regret, the love and the frustration. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, but the words wouldn’t come out right. All I had left were the pieces of a broken version of myself. And that was enough to make me want to walk away again.

But I couldn’t leave like this. Not again. Not with everything still so damn unfinished.

The words hit the air and hung there, heavy, like they were choking me. I couldn’t even finish my sentence. My throat felt tight, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the words to come out the way I wanted them to.

"So that's it?" My voice cracked, the anger and pain mixing together. "You... I... you don't..."

I stepped back, shaking my head in frustration, feeling like a damn fool for even trying. It was like I was chasing something that wasn’t there anymore, something that had slipped through my fingers the moment I let my guard down.

"We... nothing." The words were the hardest thing I’d ever had to say. Saying them out loud felt like admitting to myself that I was losing her. And I didn’t know if I could take that.

I turned away, my chest tight. I needed space, needed to breathe. My mind was spinning with everything I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get the right words out. Instead, all I had was silence, and it felt suffocating.

I wanted to fix it, wanted to go back to before all this mess, before all the shit that had gone wrong. But standing there, watching her stand apart from me, it hit me harder than anything else. She wasn’t the same YN I once knew. She wasn’t the girl who would smile at me and tell me everything was going to be okay. No, this YN was someone who had learned to keep her distance.

I turned back to Jax, my hands clenched at my sides. He was standing there, his face full of frustration but also concern. And in that moment, I realized it wasn’t just me who had hurt her. It was me, too.

I didn’t know what to do anymore.

The air went cold as her words hit me like a slap. "I'm sorry, Ony. I can't..."

I felt everything inside me crack. The world that had just started to feel like it could be whole again? It shattered. It was like I was standing in a room full of glass, each of her words cutting through me like shards, and I couldn’t breathe through the pain.

Tears welled up, and no matter how hard I tried to swallow them down, they came. I was helpless. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t even try to. I just stood there, broken, and let them fall.

I tried to talk, to find the words, but it felt like my throat was on fire. My hands were shaking as I took a step forward, desperate, raw. “It was the pendant, wasn’t it?" My voice cracked. "King showed you the whole set, didn’t he?”

She didn’t answer at first, and I could see the pain in her eyes. I knew the answer, but I had to hear it from her. It was the thing I had done—my attempt at a last-ditch effort to make things right but she couldn’t see it like that. She saw me, in my attempt to fix the wrongs, as a failure. I had messed up so much, I thought this pendant would make it right, but it wasn’t enough.

She nodded slowly. That confirmation hit me harder than anything. It wasn’t just the pendant. It was everything. Every moment I’d missed, every mistake I’d made. She had held onto that hope, that tiny thread of something between us, but now even that had snapped.

Then she said it.

“You made something so beautiful for us, then still left me. I can’t forgive that, Ony.”

The words sliced deep into me, leaving a hollow pain. The weight of her rejection felt unbearable. It was the kind of pain that made you question everything you thought you knew about yourself, about your choices. I had made mistakes, so many mistakes, but hearing her say that… it felt like I had broken her, and that was something I couldn’t undo.

She turned her back to me, and then got into her car. I stood there, rooted in place, unable to do anything but watch her drive away. The sound of her engine fading in the distance felt like my heart being torn out piece by piece.

I wanted to scream, to beg her to stop, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

All I could do was stand there, staring at the empty road where she’d gone, and feel the crushing weight of everything I had lost.

And I knew in that moment… it was too late.

#black reader #black tumblr #sherewrytes #aot x reader #onyankopon x reader #aot x black reader #onyankapon #aot onyankopon #eren x reader #connie x reader

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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

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Life keep playing with me fr cause why am I literally sick again but I’ll still post this week.

#black tumblr #black reader #sherewrytes

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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

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PENT UP ANGER

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐭: 3.3k𐙚

EAT TS WITH YOUR GRILLS STILL ON

Pairings: Onyankapon x black fem!reader

Notes: I wrote this listening to two songs on repeat😩: Church - Chase Atlantic slowed and Where You belong - The Weekend (Take a listen as you read.ᐟ)

Visuals: { 𐙚 } { 𐙚 }

Storming out of the sleek black car, you slammed the door behind yourself, ignoring the distant sound of another slamming harshly as your feet carried you forward.

You moved swiftly, heels producing a steady beat against the hardwood floor as you sauntered down the long hallway leading toward your shared bedroom.

The steady steps of your husband grew closer as you approached the master bedroom, black stiletto cladded fingers twisting the metal handle, pulse spiking as you stepped into the dimly lit room.

A sudden gasp left your throat, lips parting as a veined hand grasped the back of your neck, spinning you toward the source of your anger.

The cold bite of what you knew as a wedding band pressed against your neck, Umber eyes glaring down at you, fingers gliding from the base of your neck toward the front.

Tattooed fingers using the sides as leverage to tilt your view up toward him.

Onyankapon’s lazy eyes assessed your features, brows furrowed as he spoke.

“Use your words baby, did I upset you?”

You averted your gaze, breath hitching as he leaned his face closer to yours, enunciating his question with a slight tilt of his head, pointer and thumb releasing its grasp along your throat, instead working to tilt your head closer toward his.

You watched, waiting, chest rising rapidly — each breath edged with unfathomable irritation — as his eyes flickered between yours, searching, questioning, what the fuck he’d done to upset you.

��Hm?” He hummed, pink tongue dragging against his bottom lip, granting you a glimpse of the diamond laced grills on the top row of his teeth as he backed you up toward the edge of the bed.

Your knees buckled at the feeling of the soft mattress behind you, body bouncing slightly as you fell.

A tattooed thumb ran across your lip, smearing the butter gloss you’d applied — mere moments before — as his thumb pushed slightly against them, lips parting at the intrusion.

A slight tilt of his head finalized his previous question.

“Open that pretty little mouth, baby, tell me… How can I make you feel better?”

You swiveled your head to the side, rolling your eyes in aggravation as the recollection of his hand on the gorgeous woman’s waist danced through your head once more.

The way he clasped the woman’s slim hand, seeming to forget that those freshly manicured fingers had been deep inside you mere moments before. His middle finger — etched with the mesmerizing swirl of your first name, tattooed in fine, cursive letters — swirling around your hard clit as your pussy clenched desperately, around the baby pink vibrator pulsing inside you.

The way that gorgeous woman batted her perfectly curled lashes at him. Green, doe eyes, much different from your siren-like ones, seeming to encapsulate him; Her long, tan legs, leading up to her ass — perky, tame, just enough — dramatized by the pop of her hips as she spoke meekly to Ony.

“You know what the fuck you did nigga, stop playin’,” You scoffed.

You were fucking steaming, chest rising rapidly as you clenched your jaw in a futile attempt to halt the disrespectful words threatening to spill from your glossed lips.

You knew you’d fucked up by the way his left eye seemed to twitch, a slow smile pulling across his face as he chuckled lightly.

The emerald cut, baguette diamonds sitting pretty atop his teeth glimmered sexily against the darkness, seeming to illuminate his mouth, though no light was present.

As much as you’d reasoned with yourself while you sat stiffly in the black Maybach seats of his car — or at least tried to — you couldn’t think of any other reason as to why he’d been smiling so damn hard, or why you yourself were so fucking mad.

You were far from insecure, and Onyankapon, he was far from disrespectful, never leading you to second guess the way he felt about you, not once since you’d met, but something was itching in the depths of your mind today to fuck a bitch up, and if it wasn’t gonna be her…then it’d be him.

Onyankapon didn’t take to disrespect lightly, he expected what was given, and gave more than expected. He knew you were mad, but every attempt he’d taken in comforting you, or trying to work out‌ what was wrong, you’d shut that shit down as quick as it came, instead leaving clues behind for him to pick up.

He didn’t play that shit.

You were his woman, and everything a man wished for in a woman. You were the woman, and in no way whatsoever would he have his woman wallowing in a pool of restless anxiety for as long as he was your man.

He could give zero fucks about what anybody else thought.

So you watched, eyes low, as he rose up from his position above yours on your shared bed, his broad stature consuming your view as he tilted his head, taking his sweet-ass fucking time to unbutton the cuffs of his black dress shirt.

You huffed, tutting as you lifted from your lying position atop the cotton sheets, attempting to raise up from the bed before being stopped short by the rough reminder of his presence.

“Sit.”

Your eyes flickered up quickly, lips parting to cuss him out — snapping them shut at the harsh glare in his eyes.

Fuck.

“How many times did I ask if you were okay, (y/n) hmm?”

You swallowed.

“How many times did I ask you…if I did something wrong?” His hands reached up toward his collar, fingers working to undo each button, slowly, tauntingly… too fucking calm.

You glanced to your left. The steady flame of irritation spreading inside you seemed to grow larger, hotter, at the fact that he was irritated with you for being mad.

Who the fuck was he feeling like?

Sizzling silence drowned the room as Onyankapon stared down at you, noting the way your titties sat, perky, pretty, in your black dress, the cotton seeming to accentuate the softness of your curves as you peered up at him, gorgeous brown eyes peeking from beneath a wispy set he’d dropped 350 for the day before.

“What happened to allat’ fucking attitude, mama?” He was toying with you, smile growing dark at your silence.

“Lemme know wassup’. Tell me. Say dat shit wit’ ya chest.”

He watched, aggravated, a slight mug resting against his face as he slipped his shirt off his shoulders, displaying the slutty tattoos hidden beneath.

Tension curled from the Greek pillars surrounding their room, slithering down the walls as you both stared unblinking at each other.

Seething.

Each begging for the other to make a move, to slip.

Your lips parted — wrong.

With only the quickness that Ony himself possessed, his hands gripped your cheeks, puckering your lips as he stared down at you, brows furrowed as he spoke.

“Stop allat’ disrespect shit, (y/n). You a’ big girl, right?”

“You not gone tell me ma? Hmm?” A slight tilt of his head.

Your thighs pressed together, core tightening at the low rasp of his voice. He nodded, a firm, self-affirming nod.

“Show me.”

That’s all you needed.

Onyankapon released his grasp upon your face, sniffling, palm planting two firm taps against your cheek before stretching his arms up to grasp the pillar above your shared bed as your hands reached out.

You gave no warning.

Silence.

Tension snaked closer.

Your stiletto nails scratched down his abdomen, creating shallow indentations in its path as you worked the Matte Gucci belt buckled around his waist.

Ony watched, sinking his teeth into the plush of his lips as he glared at the soft flutter of your wispy lashes, entrapped by your siren-like beauty.

His head tipped, mind whirling at the tickle of your nails slithering beneath the border of the only thing separating him from your view.

His eyes fluttered shut, abs caving, Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought to control his mind, his heart, from spiraling with every flick of your slick tongue against his mushroom tip—with every swirl of your grip against his dick, every bob of your head.

His eyes rolled, a firm palm planted against the back of your skull as he nudged you further.

“Come onn baby, show me.” Heavy pants slipped his lips, eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay lucid. To keep hold of his sanity.

“Yeahhh, show me dat shit, baby.” A firm bite to his plump, two toned lips finalized his statement, eyes glossed, brows furrowed as he stared down at your bobbing head.

"So fuckin greedy, mama, fuck!"

You were everything he needed, everything he wanted, why the fuck did you think he was boutta hand that over to just anyone? To anyone but you?

You reached your arms up, forcing Ony’s palms away from your cheek as he attempted to push you away, pleasure coiling from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet as he moaned.

You were sucking the soul out of him, sinking the points of your stilettos into his mind without any intention of letting up.

You were speaking to him in a way only you could—engraving every word within the depths of his heart — with your mouth fucking full.

You popped your head off, hand swirling along the soft curve of his dick as you stared up, anger swimming throughout the depths of your pretty brown eyes.

He watched, taking note of the way your lip gloss seemed to blend within the liquid of your spit, chest sticky, chin dripping with a mix of both his and your essence.

“Give it to me, baby. Please, I want it��let me have it,” you whined.

Onyankapon’s body shuddered, your words cracking every ounce of stability he seemed to have lingering as he came.

“Fuckk baby, I feel you, I fucking hear you.” The bass of his voice seemed to crack, shifting between breathy, needy whimpers, and deep, soul-ridden grunts as he pumped his hips in your hands, aching, listening.

His head swam as he watched you rise to your knees, finger trailing up your chest, leaving a trail of his cum in its wake as you slipped your index and middle finger into your mouth, eyes closing, a greedy moan vibrating from the depths of you as you savored the essence of him.

Rough palms reached out, grasping onto the chub of your neck as he crashed his head down, lips racing against yours with unspoken passion as he flattened his frame along yours.

Your thighs circled his slim waist, hands following as they smoothed up his chest, one palm laying against his upper back, the other running along the back of his head — flattening along the sea of waves rippling across his scalp as you moaned.

The lavish, soft cotton of your black dress rode up as his coarse palms ran up your thigh, squeezing, grazing, clutching as your lips flowed feverishly, never once breaking its harmonized movements as he moved your bodies toward the head of the bed.

Your head tilted, head slouching to the side as your lover trailed kisses down the creamy silk of your collar, each peck sizzling against your skin, tattooing a phrase in its wake.

I love you.

I need you.

Fuck me.

Your eyes rolled as Onyankapon’s lips sketched its way down your chest, fists moving to push the delicate sleeves down your shoulders.

Brown eyes followed, heart stuttering as he shoved the fabric down, freeing the weight of your breasts, fabric pooling around your waist. You watched, noting the way his throat bobbed as he gawked longingly, breath catching as he used the mere moment of sanity to take in your beauty. You were perfect. His.

Puffy, swollen lips parted, releasing a needy whimper as his hands trailed its way up plump thighs, the vanilla oil you’d used just mere hours before steaming off of you with the pour of heat radiating from your skin.

The scent was intoxicating, your skin impossibly warm.

You choked, eyes fluttering as his middle finger pressed softly against the lace atop your clit, the fabric seeming to sink between the fat of your wet folds as he applied slight pressure.

“Come on mama, this what you wanted?” His tongue ran along his lips. “Open dat’ pretty ass mouth and lemme know, baby.”

You gasped, waist whining against the flesh of his fingers as your head drooped back, unleashing the whirlwind of feelings you’d held confined; each emotion voiced itself in its own unique moan as Onyankapon’s fingers yielded to the slickness of his tongue and mouth.

"Jus' like dat' pretty, talk to me."

“Ughnn shittt.” Your body melted, each thought of doubt, worry, insecurity pooling out along your cheeks as he hollowed his lips, sucking the hard nub of your puffy clit into his mouth.

“Yeah baby, I hear you, im listenin’ baby. You know dis’.” Your eyes crossed, toes curling within the arch of your Giuseppeas, as your palm slapped repeatedly on the plush of the bed beside you.

“Im cumminnn’ baby, f-fuckkk…yesss!” The hoarseness of your pretty, sultry voice seemed to egg him on, low eyes peeking up beneath long, black lashes as he watched endless bliss rip through you, knowing that he was the sole purpose for your ache-filled tears.

He popped his mouth from the depths of you, diamonds glittering as he bit his lips, the tension in the room replaced with the creamy squelching of your pussy, lips seeming to swallow him as he fucked you.

“There we goo, mama, let it go, let it all go,” His voice grew soft, words spilling in the form of a whisper as his breath grew heavy.

“I love you baby, I’m yours, let go for me, baby. Give it to me.” He said breathlessly.

Your body grew tense, mouth opening in a silent sob as your legs closed in on his hand.

“Breatheee for me baby, breathe, just breathe, feel it.” Your throat stung, fingers clutching onto his forearm as he pumped, shattering you from the inside out.

You let loose, moaning, groaning, sobbing, as your body sang, saturating the room with a song so carnal it’d ring throughout the house for seasons to come.

“Feel that shit baby, I love you (y/n), I’m yours baby, yours, you hear me?” Your eyes crossed.

One could only define Ony as selfish, gluttonous for his pussy as his tongue engraved his name within the depths of you, the way he ate you, chin streamed with your raw essence as he ravaged your pussy.

He was smacking, flicking, sucking — ruthlessly forcing you to your limits.

His hands clutched your thighs, body moving as he kissed his way back up to your tear stricken face. His lips trailed along your neck, whispering, sealing his words as he drew you from the whirlwind of pleasure you’d experienced sheer moments before.

You sobbed, mind teetering as he reined you back into his world, back to the moment you were sharing.

Your eyes laid heavy, palms drifting along your body as you grasped the meat of your thighs, pulling them up and back without order.

Your breasts shook as he tugged you further downward, trousers long gone as he pressed his weight along your thighs, nudging them further back to settle beside your head as the heavy weight of his dick laid between them.

His dick was thick — fat with arousal — the weight of it substantial between you.

Smooth Walnut skin fused within Cinnamon as his tip leaked, dripping along the folds of your pussy.

Ony moved his left hand, angling himself as he pressed inside you, slowly. He needed you to feel him, every fucking inch of him.

His eyes closed briefly, throat bobbing in an attempt to ground himself as dove into you.

His hips flowed, whining lazily as he forced himself to the hilt, left hand drifting up to wrap around your throat as his head tipped backwards.

“J-jesus fuck.”

Your brows furrowed, watching, as the lowly trimmed hairs along his pelvis grazed against you. Your pussy clamped around him, feeling every vein, every pulse, as your bodies tied.

His hips snapped up, dropping in steady motion as he pushed your thighs into the plush of the mattress, using you, giving you everything he had to offer. Baptising himself within the depths of you.

“Ohhh my g-g-,” your breath stalled, barring the words in its tracks as your body reigned numb.

Onyankapon’s hips plunged, torso clamping as he whimpered, waist pushing passionately as a bead of sweat raced between the curve of his abs and onto the pudgy flesh of your tummy. He sank himself, forehead pressing into yours as he clasped the back of your neck, folding you, forcing you to watch as he surrendered himself within the extents of you, engulfed himself within the bounds of your mind.

Your arms moved up, grasping onto the back of his skull as you gawked up at him, eyes never drifting, body humming as he drove into you. You peeked down, watching as cream glazed the fat of his dick, building along his pelvis with each breathtaking stroke.

“Ba-byyy, so fuckin',” you cried, deep and gluttonous, “d-eep baby, oohhh.” Your nails scratched along his hips, fingers grasping the fat of his ass as you creamed.

“I love youuu, shitt,” you were hysterical, mouth slacking open, drool staining your chin.

He was driving you fucking mad.

Onyankapon’s brows furrowed, repetitive whimpers painting the air as he chased his orgasm, pounding, ignoring the burn of his thighs as the fat of your ass ricocheted off his hips.

Smack!

The sting from his palms flattening against the swell of your thighs was all you needed as your body convulsed.

“Ughnn, Oh my-fuckkkk”. Your eyes rolled, barely registering your body’s doing as a stream of arousal sprayed across Ony’s chest. Your pussy clamped, sucking, feeding upon the meat of his dick as he drove himself impossibly deeper.

You could feel him, throat clogging as your stomach burned; he was so fucking deep. Too fucking deep.

So deep within the depths of you, you couldn’t identify where you ended, and he began.

You couldn’t stop fucking cumming. What the fuck?

“Give it to me baby, fuck, fuck, fuckkk.” Your gasp planted heavily against his lips.

Onyankapon’s body grew tense as he dragged himself upright, sweat dripping along the curve of his nose as he gripped your hips.

“Mmm, you feel me, baby? This’ my fucking pussy, (y/fn). All. Fucking. Mine.” With a harsh snap of his hips, he punctuated each word.

“Yeahh look at me baby, you so fucking pretty.” His statement faltered, head slipping back as he burrowed himself into you, grinding, babbling, hips sputtering as he came.

“I’m nuttin' all in this pussy baby, fuckkk.” His eyes rolled, hips still rolling as he came with such intensity he thought he’d be sucked up by fucking darkness itself.

Heavy, rampant pants filled the now quiet room as he looked down at his lady, his woman, his love.

His form sank as he helped you move your legs toward the bed, caressing the fat as your lips connected in a slow, sensual kiss.

“I love you ma, this love ain’t come easy, I need you to talk to me, baby.” His fingers nuzzled the sweaty arch of your cheeks as you peered up at him.

“Let me know when I’ve upset you. Talk to me, don’t hold that shit in baby. Next time you feel like I’m oversteppin’, lemme know. I'm never gonna just rule off ya feelings, baby. Let me know.” His voice lagged, gaze flitting between your view as you nodded—Dazed.

“Aight, come on, lemme run ya pretty ass a bath.” His head lowered, a sultry smile tearing from his lips as he pecked your lips once more.

-𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒆౨ৎ

Tags: @ilovefanfictionsm @brownied0ll @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hxlcster @prettypink-princesss @wettbaby @playgurlxoxo

Note: long awaited!! This was not supposed to take that long but life got me caught allll the way uppppp. I promise I'll be way more consistent now that I'm finally healed of my devious case of writers block.

P.S. My requests are open! I need ideas 💕

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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

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Song Inspo: Baby by me 50 cent.

Just wanted to write a choso fic... This aint got another part cause na..

Ps: I forgot this finished fic was in my drafts so here ya go.

The music pulsed through the lounge like a heartbeat, steady and heavy, the low hum of voices and clinking glasses adding to the atmosphere. You looked up as the bartender slid a cocktail your way, chilled and clear. A smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth as you sipped, eyeing the room. Tonight, you had no agenda other than to enjoy yourself—but then you felt it, a gaze burning into you from across the room.

You didn’t have to look around to know who it was. You’d already noticed him the second you walked in—tall, dark hair pulled back, intense eyes that could cut right through you. He had that unbothered vibe, leaned back against the bar, calm like he owned the place. And now? He was looking right at you, giving you a once-over that lingered a little too long to be innocent.

You raised an eyebrow, letting him know you weren’t just anybody. He noticed, smirking back like he was ready for whatever you had to offer. With one last sip, you decided to close the distance and sauntered over, heels clicking against the floor as you stopped a few inches from him. Close enough for him to feel your presence, but not close enough for him to think he’d won anything yet.

“So you just gon’ stare all night, or you got somethin’ to say?” you asked, letting your voice hold a little tease, a little challenge.

He chuckled low, leaning in slightly. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, voice smooth and deep, every word like velvet. “I was just waiting to see if you’d come over on your own.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you said, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Big man, too good to make the first move, huh?”

“Not too good,” he said, eyeing you in a way that made the hair on your arms stand up. “Just don’t gotta chase when I know you want it just as bad.”

His confidence was practically dripping, but there was something else—something about the way he looked at you, like he was studying every inch of you and committing it to memory. He took a step closer, eyes trailing from your face down to your lips, then back up.

“So what’s your name?” you asked, finally.

He leaned in, voice a low murmur. “Choso. And you?”

You told him your name, watching his expression shift as he repeated it, as if savoring each syllable. “That’s a beautiful name,” he said, voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a spark as he held your gaze. He wasn’t playing, and something about his vibe told you he wasn’t just another smooth-talker. He wasn’t about to ask for your number or play the usual games—he looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

He took another step forward, leaning down just slightly until you could feel his breath on your neck. “You know,” he murmured, voice just for you, “I don’t like wasting time. So if you’re feelin’ this too, maybe we can take it somewhere else.”

A shiver went down your spine, but you kept your cool, raising an eyebrow. “Boy, you really think you just gon’ walk me outta here like that?”

Choso tilted his head, amused. “Depends,” he said, voice steady and low. “You wanna see what I got in mind?”

Something in his eyes made you pause. You didn’t break eye contact, your heart picking up speed, but your voice was steady as you replied. “Lead the way.”

Choso led you through the dimly lit hallways of the lounge and out into the cool night air. He kept his hand light on the small of your back as you walked, but the heat radiated off him. The moment felt thick, like you were both waiting for the other to say something, but words didn’t feel necessary. He exuded this quiet confidence—like he knew exactly where this night was headed and was content to let it play out in his own time. You could tell he wasn’t one for unnecessary small talk.

Minutes later, you were stepping into his place: sleek, masculine, all dark tones and low lighting, with a floor-to-ceiling window showing off the city skyline in all its late-night glory. It was impressive, almost too perfect—but that only made him more intriguing. He walked a few steps ahead, then turned, looking you up and down slowly, like he was weighing every inch of you.

“So this how you do things?” you asked, crossing your arms, keeping your tone easy but your stance ready. “All quiet and mysterious, huh?”

He let out a quiet laugh, closing the distance between you with a few deliberate steps. “You got a problem with that?” His voice was low, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent chills down your spine.

You shrugged, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ll let you know if I do.”

He tilted his head, a faint smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out, trailing a hand slowly down your arm, his touch light but deliberate. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, but every word was weighted, like he was savoring the way you looked under his hands.

You raised an eyebrow. “That supposed to impress me?”

“Nah,” he replied, his eyes holding a dark gleam. “It’s supposed to let you know I don’t play games. When I want something, I make it clear.”

The air between you practically crackled, a heavy silence settling over the room. Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity through you. He was testing you, seeing how you’d react, and when you didn’t pull away, he continued, his touch becoming bolder, his grip firm around your waist as he pressed you closer.

“Tell me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice dropping lower, rougher, “how much can you handle?”

You smirked, running a hand along the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there. “Think you can find out?”

That was all the invitation he needed. He backed you up slowly until you felt the wall at your back, his hands braced on either side of you, trapping you in his gaze. His eyes were half-lidded, but the look in them was sharp, calculating, like he was mentally cataloging every reaction, every hitched breath, every glance.

He leaned in close, his mouth hovering just a breath away from yours. “You like a challenge?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, each word laced with something dark, almost dangerous.

Your heart pounded, but you kept your tone steady, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. “Why don’t you give me one?”

In response, he smirked, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was possessive, claiming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt about who was in control. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, just enough pressure to send a thrill through you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed you harder against the wall.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath coming in low, steady beats as his thumb traced slow circles against your neck. “You can try to play coy all you want,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, “but I know you’re feelin’ this just as much as I am.”

You gave him a slow smile, your pulse racing. “Guess we’ll see how long that confidence lasts.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate through you. “Oh, trust me,” he said, leaning in close, his lips brushing your ear. “I got enough to last all night.”

The next moments were a blur of heat and hands, each touch more intense than the last. Choso’s dominance wasn’t loud or showy; it was a steady, deliberate control, like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you. His grip was firm, his movements unhurried, every action calculated to push you just a little further, to keep you on edge.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. “Told you,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your jaw as he held your gaze. “I don’t do anything halfway.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting out a slow breath. “Neither do I.”

He chuckled, stepping back just slightly, but his gaze never left you, a promise hanging in the air. “Then you better keep up.”

The tension between you and Choso thickened as he pulled you from the wall, guiding you through the dimly lit apartment until you found yourselves in his bedroom. The city lights cast shadows across the room, a faint glow illuminating his sharp features, the intensity in his eyes undeniable. He watched you, hands grazing your arms as he stepped closer, letting his fingers trail slowly, possessively, along the line of your jaw.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low, with a slight rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. “I knew it the second I saw you.”

Your breath hitched as his hand slid down, his grip firm around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and powerful, like he was barely holding himself back.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied, your voice steady but soft, feeling the energy between you two grow thicker, more electric.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating low in his chest. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”

Without another word, he tilted your chin up, bringing his lips down to yours. The kiss was intense, but slow—controlled, almost like he was savoring the taste of you. He wasn’t rushed or careless; every movement felt purposeful, like he was taking his time, memorizing each reaction, every shiver that coursed through you.

Choso’s hands trailed up your back, his grip firm as he shifted you onto the bed. He hovered above you, a smirk tugging at his lips as he took you in, his eyes dark with a possessive hunger.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper as he pressed kisses along your collarbone, down to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. His teeth grazed your skin, a rough edge that sent a surge of anticipation through you, his hands exploring every inch, testing how far he could push you.

“You talkin’ big game, but I don’t know if you really ‘bout it,” you teased, eyes challenging as you met his gaze. You weren’t going to let him have full control without a fight.

His grin widened, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Is that a challenge?”

You smirked, leaning up to press your lips against his, daring him to show you what he was made of. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, and the air between you turned charged, electric. Each touch, each kiss, felt like a promise—a thrill of something dangerous, like he was giving you just a taste of what he was capable of.

Choso pulled back, his fingers brushing down your neck, lingering at the pulse point, feeling your heart race beneath his touch. “Then let me make one thing clear,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing yours, his voice like velvet. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, feeling the weight of his words settle over you, filling the room with a dark intensity that was intoxicating. You didn’t break eye contact, letting him see the challenge in your gaze, knowing this was only the beginning of something that felt bigger than either of you.

“Prove it.”

And that was all it took. His control slipped just slightly, enough for him to let go, to press you against the bed with a fierceness that left no room for questions. He wasn’t just taking you; he was showing you the lengths he’d go to leave his mark on you, to make sure you’d remember this moment, remember him, long after the night was over.

As his hands roamed, as his touch grew rougher, you felt yourself surrendering to his rhythm, to his pace, each sensation blending into the next, pulling you deeper into his orbit, where nothing else mattered except the two of you.

He picked her up like nothing like she weighed nothing. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she let out a soft gasp as his grip dug just slightly into her thighs. He was hot to the touch, shirt off, skin gleaming with a light sheen from the heat they’d been building between them all day.

“You good?” he asked low in her ear, voice a full-bodied promise that vibrated in her bones.

Before she could answer before she could smirk or toss something slick back he dropped her onto the bed. The bounce of the mattress caught her breath in her throat, silk sheets ruffling beneath her body as she landed, wide-eyed, lips parted.

Choso stood at the edge, towering. That look in his eye, full beast mode, full claim, full You gon’ feel every second”

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, eyes roaming over her body like she was art, war, and worship in one breath.

“Spread,” he said.

You bit her bottom lip. “What if I don’t?”

He tilted his head, smirked, then crawled onto the bed slow panther-like. The mattress dipped beneath him, one hand planted beside her head, the other gliding up the inside of her thigh till it hooked under her knee and pulled her open, lips brushing her jaw.

“Then I take,” he growled, and kissed her deep. One of those tongue-and-teeth kisses that had her back arching into him, her arms winding around his neck, her body remembering how perfectly he fit.

“You want me to behave?” she breathed between kisses, teasing but breathless.

He kissed her harder. “No. I want you to remember.”

Then he dipped down, slowly, kissing every inch of collarbone, chest, belly making her feel each place his mouth landed like a ritual. When he got lower, her hips already rising for him, he paused, looked up with that dark, honey-slick stare.

“Hold still,” he said, voice gritty. “You ran before. Not this time.”

And then he devoured her.

The kind of devouring that made her moan out his name, the full one CHOSO! over and over like a prayer gone rogue. His hands pinned her hips down, his tongue and lips moving with mastery, devotion, and intent to have her unravel under him like silk sliding off flame.

By the time he came back up, lips glistening, beard damp, her chest was heaving.

“You good?” he asked, cocky but breathless himself now.

“I was.”

He didn’t even let her finish, flipped her over gently, hand flat on her back. “Nah, mama. You will be.”

Hours slipped by in a haze of touches, whispers, and promises. By the time the first light of dawn crept through the window, you lay next to him, breathless, tangled in the sheets. He looked over at you, his eyes softening just slightly, a rare vulnerability there that made your heart skip.

“What?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you caught him staring.

Choso shrugged, a lazy smirk crossing his face. “Just makin’ sure you’re still breathing. Thought I might’ve taken you out for good.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling as you propped yourself up on one elbow. “Boy, please. I’m not that easy.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You think you can handle me?”

You leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, meeting his gaze with a steady confidence. “I can handle a lot more than you think.”

Choso laughed, the sound low and genuine, like you’d finally managed to catch him off guard. “Guess I’ll have to keep pushing, then.”

You didn’t need to respond; the look in your eyes said enough.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso x you #choso x black!reader #jjk choso #choso x y/n #choso kamo smut #choso x black reader #jjk x black reader #kamo choso #choso kamo x reader

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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

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One thing that gon make you take a nap is eating a roti

#black tumblr #black reader #sherewrytes #caribbeanthings #trinithings #trinidad and tobago #trinidadian

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

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Part 2 is out

Valentine's day aint it when you're missing someone you're not supposed to

This was a Valentine's day draft that never got posted...so imma drop some angst....If you want a part two lemme know

Silent Confessions

It started over something small. It always did.

Ony was sitting at the edge of the bed, jaw tight, fingers laced together like he was physically holding himself back from saying something he’d regret. YN was by the dresser, scrolling through her phone like his silence didn’t weigh the entire damn room down.

She always did that. Ignored the tension. Acted like nothing was wrong.

"You hearin' me?" Ony’s voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness.

A beat. She didn’t look up. "Mmhmm."

That was it. That’s all he got.

Ony exhaled hard, shaking his head. "See, that right there. That shit right there is why I’m done, YN."

She finally glanced up, a brow raising like he was overreacting. "Done?" She echoed, voice cool. "You sure? Or you just talking?"

He damn near laughed. "Yeah, 'cause I’m the one who be playing games, right?"

YN didn’t flinch, just went right back to her phone, scrolling slow, like he wasn’t standing there unraveling. Like his frustration wasn’t even worth looking at.

"I don’t play games," she murmured.

Oh, she got him fucked up.

Ony shot up from the bed, stepping in front of her so she had no choice but to acknowledge him. "You don’t play games?" His voice dropped lower, laced with something sharp. "So what you call this?"

Her head tilted, eyes meeting his without a flicker of emotion. "You mad ‘cause I don’t act how you want me to act?" She slid her phone into her back pocket, folding her arms. "That’s a you problem, baby. Not mine."

Ony sucked his teeth, chest rising and falling. "Damn, you really don’t give a fuck, huh?"

"Never said that."

"But you don’t say shit."

Another shrug. "Maybe I just don’t see the point."

That was it. That was the straw.

"You never see the point," Ony muttered, stepping back, shaking his head. "You never say how you feel. You just stand there, act like I’m the crazy one for giving a damn, and then when I finally get fed up, it’s just oh well?"

Silence.

For a second—just a second—he swore something flickered in her expression. Something almost real. But just as fast, it was gone. Replaced with that same unreadable, detached look that had been driving him insane for months.

"You done?" she asked, voice smooth, steady.

That hurt more than she’d ever admit.

He scoffed, shaking his head with a bitter chuckle. "Yeah. I’m done."

He turned, grabbed his keys, and walked out.

And YN?

She just let him.

Didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t chase after him.

Like he was just another moment, another thing that came and went.

And that was the part that really fucked him up.

The door slammed behind me with a finality that I should’ve been used to by now. But it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like the relief I thought it would.

I gripped my keys tight in my hand, walking through the parking lot, the cold air biting at my skin as I made my way to my Hellcat.

The blacked-out paint gleamed under the dim streetlights, and the roar of the engine felt like the only thing that could drown out the noise in my head. I slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, leaning back for a second, just breathing.

I reached into the center console, pulling out the joint I’d been saving for moments like this. The flame sparked to life as I lit it, taking in a deep hit before rolling the window down and exhaling the smoke into the cold night air.

It was the kind of night that felt like a movie. You know, the kind where the character just drives, the music playing in the background, lost in thought. But the problem was, I didn’t even have a soundtrack. It was just the buzz in my head.

And YN. Always her.

I leaned my head against the window, staring at the streetlights blurring by. I should’ve been angry. I should’ve been relieved. But I wasn’t. I was just... empty.

I needed to talk. I needed to get the thoughts out of my head before they ate me alive. So I pulled out my phone, going through my contacts until I landed on Eren’s name.

“Yo.”

His voice came through, the usual cool tone, but I could hear the edge in it. He always knew when something was off.

"What’s up, bro?"

"I need to talk. Can you just... listen for a minute?"

There was a pause, and I could feel his curiosity rising. “You know I got you.”

I leaned back in the seat again, taking another drag before speaking. "It’s her, man. YN. I can’t do this anymore, but I can’t let go either."

Eren let out a low sigh. “You need to make up your damn mind. She’s not gonna change, Ony. You know that, right?"

I stayed quiet, letting the words hang in the air between us. It wasn’t that simple. Not for me.

“What happened this time?” Eren asked.

I could hear the impatience in his voice, but I was too deep in my own thoughts to care. “She played me, E. Again. She always does. I’m giving her everything—time, energy, patience—and she won’t even say how she feels. It’s like I’m just some random dude to her.”

Eren was silent for a moment, letting me vent. I appreciated that about him. He wasn’t one of those people who tried to fix shit immediately. He just let me talk, let me get it out.

Finally, he spoke. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, bro. You deserve someone who gives a fuck about you. Someone who won’t leave you out in the cold like this.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to get defensive. He was right, of course. I knew that. But damn if it didn’t hurt to admit it.

Before I could respond, Eren’s voice cut through the air again. “You know what? Fuck it. Let’s make this a group call.”

I blinked, not sure if I was hearing him right. “A group call? With who?”

"The bros. They’ll want to hear this shit too."

I leaned forward, hitting the call button as the phone started ringing. A few seconds later, the call was live, and the familiar voices of my boys filled my ears.

"Yo, what’s good, man?" Connie’s voice came through first, laced with a slight Spanish accent. His words always had that effortless smoothness, but I could tell from his tone that he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit.

"Ony, bro, you good?" That was Jean—laid-back, but always looking out. He was the calm one in the group, the type to sit back and observe before throwing in his two cents.

I took another drag from my joint, trying to calm myself. “Yeah, I’m good. Just... tryna figure some shit out.”

"Tell us what’s going on, bro," Eren added. “We got your back, always.”

And just like that, the floodgates opened. The words came tumbling out, faster than I could even process them. I told them everything—about the fight with YN, about how she never showed any emotion, about how I was always the one putting in the effort while she just sat back like she couldn’t be bothered.

The boys stayed quiet for a second.

"Damn, that sounds rough," Connie finally spoke up. “But honestly, bro, you deserve someone who actually gives a shit. If she can’t meet you halfway, then fuck it. Let her go.”

Jean exhaled through his teeth, that thoughtful pause before he spoke. “You already know what it is, bro. You keep thinking she gon’ change, but she won’t. If she wanted to, she would’ve already.”

Eren? He was the one who really hit me with the truth. “You can’t keep holding onto something that’s not there anymore, Ony. She’s gone, bro. Let it go.”

I stayed silent, feeling the weight of their words sink in. It was one of those moments where you knew they were right, but your heart wasn’t ready to admit it.

I took another hit from the joint, letting the smoke fill my lungs as I tried to push the knot in my chest down.

“Alright,” I muttered. “I hear y’all. But it’s not easy.”

"No shit," Connie said with a laugh. “But we’re here for you. Always.”

And for the first time that night, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I wasn’t alone in this.

Connie’s voice cut in again, low and sharp. “Hold on.” There was a brief shuffle before he switched to Spanish, speaking to his girl in the background. I could hear her voice faintly, excited about some impromptu night out. They were already talking plans—laughing, deciding on drinks. He came back on the phone after a minute. “Aight, so apparently, YN and my girl are going out tonight. Just like that. Impromptu, no warning.”

That hit harder than I expected. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

Before I could reply, I heard the sound of the phone shifting, and then Eren’s voice cut in. “Hold up, bro. Same thing happened here. YN texted the group saying she needed a night away from you. So now they’re all going out.” He paused for a beat, like he was gauging how I’d take it. “She’s just... doing her own thing tonight, man.”

Connie came back on, his voice steady, trying to make it sound like it was no big deal. “Yeah, so... looks like it’s just one of those nights, man. All the girls are out. You know how it goes.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. My chest felt tight, my breathing shallow. What the hell was she doing? How could she just bounce like that, no explanation, no warning?

There was a long silence before Jean finally spoke up, his voice laid-back like usual, but I could tell there was a little extra concern in it now. “It’s probably for the best, bro. You know how she is, right? She’s gotta figure her shit out. Just don’t get caught up in it. You’ve been putting in work, don’t let her bullshit mess with your head.”

I wanted to argue, to snap back. But the truth? He was right. I had been putting in work. And she... she hadn’t said shit. Not one thing.

Eren’s voice was more somber when he spoke again. “Yo, Ony, listen, man, she’s doing her own thing. You can’t control that. You’ve done everything you could. It’s her turn to figure it out.”

My fingers dug into the phone, the grip on my steering wheel almost painful now. I ran a hand through my hair, head starting to pound.

“Man, I don’t know what to do with this shit, Eren.” My voice cracked slightly, and I hated it. “She just... left. Like I’m nothing.”

Connie’s voice softened, more serious than I’d heard it in a while. “Yo, Ony... it’s just how it is. Sometimes they need space, sometimes they don’t know what they want. You gotta let her do her thing for now. Trust me, I get it.” He paused for a moment, then added, “We’ve all been there.”

Jean chimed in, his voice quiet, but steady. “You can’t make someone care, bro. She’s got her own demons to face, and that’s not on you.”

I felt like I was suffocating. The world outside the car seemed so fucking distant, like I couldn’t even find a way to reach out to anything.

I was spiraling, and I hated myself for it.

“Yeah, I know...” I muttered, voice hollow, the frustration still bubbling inside me. “I just don’t know how to let go.”

There was a brief silence, and then Eren spoke again. His voice was firm now, the calm in it making it cut through the noise in my head. “Ony, get your head right, man. It’s not worth it to crash out like this. You’re not doing anything but hurting yourself. Chill.”

Jean added, his voice calming as usual, “We got your back, bro. You’re not alone in this.”

I took a long, shaky breath, leaning back in my seat, my hands loosening their grip. I could feel the anger start to subside a little, replaced with a dull ache that made my chest heavy.

“Yeah... you’re right.” My voice was quieter now. “I just... I didn’t expect her to just leave like that.”

Connie, ever the steady one, spoke up next. “You can’t expect anything from people, man. It is what it is. You can’t change how she moves. All you can do is keep moving yourself.”

The words hit hard, but in a good way. I needed to hear it, even if it felt like shit to admit.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The tightness in my chest was still there, but it wasn’t as suffocating now. I wasn’t okay, but I was getting there.

“I appreciate y’all, man,” I muttered, feeling like I was crawling out of some deep hole. “I’ll... I’ll figure it out.”

Eren’s voice came through again, the usual smirk in his tone. “You better. Ain’t no time to dwell. We’re not here for that.”

I half-laughed, the sound bitter in my throat. “Yeah. I know.”

But then, something snapped. I slammed my hand against the wheel, the anger flooding back like a storm I couldn’t control.

“You know what’s fucked? She’s probably inside right now, getting ready, laughing it up with the girls, and I’m out here like a fucking fool, like a goddamn cunt.” My voice rose, sharp and vicious, and I didn’t care. I was done holding it in.

The guys went silent for a beat, clearly not used to hearing me lose it like this. I could practically feel their hesitation.

Jean was the first to speak, his voice soft but concerned. “Yo, chill, bro.”

Eren’s tone was firmer, the kind of calm that only came when he knew someone was about to crash. “Nah, Ony. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Connie, in his usual steady way, jumped in. “Man, just breathe. It’s gonna fuck with you if you let it. You’ve got to get your head right.”

But it was too late. I couldn’t shut it off. I couldn’t ignore the gut punch I felt from her choosing that night—of all nights—to just leave.

I took a shaky breath, gripping the wheel tighter. “Yeah, I’m... I’m gonna get it together. But damn, that shit hurts.”

Eren sighed, exasperated but understanding. “We know, bro. We know.”

Connie’s voice softened again, a little more serious. “It’ll get better. Just don’t keep feeding into it.”

I leaned back in my seat, feeling the weight of their words sinking in. I wasn’t okay. But maybe... maybe I would be.

Ony slammed his phone down on the passenger seat, disconnecting the call abruptly. He couldn’t handle hearing another word right now. He needed space to calm down before he went back inside, before he let everything spill out in ways he’d regret. His hands gripped the steering wheel tight, eyes fixed on the road ahead, but it wasn’t the road that had him spiraling. It was the thought of her.

He glanced at his phone when it buzzed, seeing Eren’s name flash on the screen. But he didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not now. He wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. Not even his closest friends. He swiped the notification away and sank back in the seat, taking a deep breath, trying to will himself to settle.

That’s when he saw it.

Connie’s Jeep pulled up into the driveway with a low rumble. He recognized it immediately—bright lights flashing in the night as it came to a stop. The engine cut, and the car doors opened. First, Connie’s girl stepped out, all smiles, looking casual but put-together, like she hadn’t just been in the middle of a group text about their plans.

But then...

YN stepped out of the house, and it hit him like a punch to the chest. She was dressed to the fucking nines, all glossed-up, curves tucked into a black dress that hugged her like it was made for her body. She was wearing heels that made her legs go on for miles, and her hair was done just right. She looked every bit the goddess she was, but in that moment, all it did was make him feel like shit. She looked untouchable, like she had it all together, and he was out here—broken and fucked up over her.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to stay in the car, tried to convince himself he wasn’t going to go over there and make a scene. But the anger, the confusion, the fucking pain of it all… it boiled over before he could even think.

He swung the door open, his heart pounding as his shoes slapped against the pavement. He made his way toward her, every step a mix of frustration and disbelief. He had to say something. He couldn’t just let this night slip by without confronting it.

But before he could even get a word out, she stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Save it, bro." Her voice was cool, calm, like this was just another night. Like none of this—none of the shit they’d been through—mattered.

She didn’t even look at him, just pulled her clutch up to her side and adjusted the strap over her shoulder, as if it wasn’t a fucking gut punch to him that she was standing here so... unfazed. So detached. He wasn’t even sure if she saw him as someone she’d been with or just another name in her past.

Her words hit him like ice water, freezing everything in him for a second. He stood there, staring at her, feeling the knot in his chest tighten all over again.

The way she said it—like she’d already made up her mind, like she wasn’t even going to let him explain, or even vent... it stung.

But damn it, he couldn’t let it go. He wasn’t going to stand there and let her dismiss him like that, not when it felt like she’d been doing it for months.

"I’m not doing this with you tonight, YN," he said, voice low but filled with everything he’d been holding in. The hurt, the anger, the disbelief. "You wanna go out like everything’s fine, like you’re not fucking with my head? That’s your call, but don’t act like I’m the crazy one when you’re out here acting like nothing happened. Like we didn’t just... fall apart."

Her eyes met his for the first time, but they were empty. Detached, like she was a million miles away from him. She didn’t even flinch at his words.

"You wanna have a conversation about this?" she said, her voice still too calm for his liking. "You don’t get to do that, Ony. Not after everything. Not after you just..." She trailed off, shaking her head like she was over it.

He was getting fed up. He didn’t care how much composure she had right now.

"After I what?" His voice was sharper, the frustration bubbling over. "After I fucking care about you? After I try? After I let you do whatever the hell you wanted while I’m over here getting strung along, waiting for a sign, for you to just—"

"Enough," she cut him off, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You want closure? You want some kind of fucking explanation? Save it. I’m not the one for you. We both know that."

Her words landed like daggers, cold and heavy, but she didn’t even seem to care how it cut him. "I’m done trying to fix something that’s already broken."

He stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to process what she’d just said. She had no idea how hard it was for him to hear that. No idea how long he’d been hanging on to something he thought might still be there, that maybe—just maybe—there was hope for them.

But she was already gone. The door to her car opened, and she slid into the passenger seat like it was just another night.

And just like that... he was left standing there, in the cold night air, feeling more alone than ever.

Ony stood there, still reeling from her words. The knot in his chest tightened, and before he could stop himself, he let it spill out.

"WTF do you mean closure? Aren’t we in a whole fucking relationship, YN?" His voice cracked a little, but he didn’t care. His frustration was getting the best of him, and the anger bubbling up was starting to burn through everything.

She didn’t flinch at his outburst, though. Not one bit. She just adjusted the strap of her clutch, her eyes focused on the ground like she was already done with this conversation before it even started.

"Of course we are," she said, her voice casual, almost dismissive. "I’m just going out. I don’t wanna argue right now, Ony."

She said it like it was no big deal. Like him standing here, breaking himself open, meant nothing.

The way she said it—calm, steady, almost uninterested—was too much. He wasn’t asking for some dramatic emotional breakdown, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to act like she was just going out with her friends on a regular night.

"You’re just—" He stopped himself, sucking in a sharp breath. "You can’t be serious right now, right? You’re really gonna act like we’re good? Like this is fine?"

But she wasn’t listening. She was already halfway in the car, looking straight ahead, avoiding him like the conversation didn’t even matter.

"Let me go, Ony," she said, voice even, though he could hear the hint of something in it. "I’ll be back later."

But as she slid into the car, Ony felt his chest tighten even more. Something inside him snapped, and he was done.

He was done with the games, done with pretending like everything would be okay.

"You really out here treating me like a fucking fool, huh?" he muttered, more to himself than to her, but the words felt like acid on his tongue. "You’re out here living your life, and I’m still stuck on the bullshit you pull."

He knew he should leave it, should just walk away before it got worse. But everything in him screamed to fight for something he wasn’t sure was even there anymore.

But the door shut, and just like that, she was gone.

And he was still left out in the cold, trying to figure out what the hell was real anymore.

Ony walked back inside, his mind racing but his body drained. He tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, but the ache in his chest made it damn near impossible. As he passed the hallway, his eyes caught an old framed picture—him and YN, smiling at a barbecue they had gone to three years ago. Back when everything felt easy. When love was still something they both believed in.

He paused for a split second, staring at the photo, but the pain from everything that had just happened made him look away. The memories were too sharp, too painful.

Instead of confronting it, he headed straight for the kitchen and grabbed a blunt, needing something to calm the chaos inside. He rolled it with shaking hands, trying to focus on something simple, anything to drown out the feeling of being left behind.

The phone buzzed again.

It was Eren.

Ony sighed, exhausted, running a hand through his hair as he answered. "What, E?" His voice was rough, like he hadn't slept in days, even though it had only been a few hours. He wasn’t ready for another conversation, but he had no choice.

Eren's voice was steady on the other end, but Ony could hear the concern there. "Yo, you good? What happened?"

Ony inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling slowly, letting the feeling of the weed calm his nerves, even if just for a second. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice thick. "I’m fine... just... just tired, man."

Eren didn’t buy it for a second. "You sure? 'Cause it don’t sound like it."

Ony’s laugh came out bitter and empty. "Nah, man. It’s... it’s fucked up. She left. I don’t even know what the hell happened. She just... walked out like nothing, like we were never even—" He paused, choking on the words.

"Like we were never even what?" Eren pressed gently. "You gotta let it out, bro."

Ony took another drag, his mind swirling. "I don’t know, E. She said she needed space. And I—I told her if she left, we were done, and she just... walked right into that fucking car like it didn’t mean shit." He gritted his teeth, the frustration boiling back up. "She don't care, man."

There was silence on the other end, the only sound being Eren’s soft breathing. "Yo," Eren said after a moment, "listen to me. You gotta stop doing this to yourself. I get it, you’re hurt, but you can’t let her walk all over you like this. Not like this."

Ony ran a hand down his face, the weight of the words sinking in but still not fully reaching him. "I don’t know what the fuck to do anymore, bro."

"One step at a time," Eren replied quietly. "One step at a time. Just... let yourself breathe."

Ony stared at the ceiling, not saying anything, just listening to Eren’s voice grounding him. It was hard, though. The silence between them was heavy, filled with everything he wasn’t saying, everything he was too scared to admit.

"I’m here, bro," Eren added softly. "Just don’t do anything stupid."

"Yeah, I got it," Ony muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he did.

He hung up after a few more quiet words, feeling emptier than before. It was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t let himself break down just yet.

He took one last drag from the blunt and stared out the window, wondering when, if ever, things would feel right again.

Ony sighed, setting his phone down as he scrolled through Uber Eats, debating between some wings or just a burger and fries. His stomach was tight from everything that had just gone down, but smoking on an empty stomach never sat right with him. He opted for some wings, extra spicy—something to burn away the frustration sitting heavy on his chest.

He leaned back on the couch, rolling another blunt with practiced ease, letting the familiar motions settle his nerves. PartyNextDoor played low in the background, the slow, moody bass matching his energy. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from his TV and the faint glow of the streetlights outside.

Just as he brought the blunt to his lips, a loud banging echoed through his apartment.

Ony frowned, his mood shifting instantly. His first thought? Some bullshit.

He stood up, rolling his shoulders, already ready to square up if needed. He hadn’t even been checking his phone—who the hell was at his door this late?

But when he yanked it open, he was met with the familiar faces of his boys—Eren, Jean, and Connie.

Eren leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head like he already knew Ony was on some dumb shit. Jean had his hands in his hoodie pockets, always the calm one, but his eyes said enough—he was checking Ony’s energy. Connie, standing slightly off to the side, gave him a once-over before sighing.

"Damn, bro," Connie said, stepping inside like he already lived there. "You look like you been through it."

Ony exhaled through his nose, stepping back to let them in. "I’m good."

Eren side-eyed him as he kicked the door shut behind him. "Nah. You not."

Jean sat on the couch, glancing at the half-rolled blunt on the table. "We already knew you was gon’ be in here sulking and rolling up, so we figured we’d come through before you got too deep in your head."

Ony smirked slightly but said nothing, just sat back down and picked up his lighter. He sparked the blunt, inhaled, and let the smoke swirl around him before he finally spoke. "I ain’t sulking."

Eren scoffed. "You was just listening to PartyNextDoor. That’s literally sulking music."

Connie laughed, shaking his head. "And you got Uber Eats open? bro, you in the first stage of heartbreak. Next thing you know, you gon’ be texting her some weak ass ‘u up?’ at two in the morning."

Ony rolled his eyes. "Man, shut the fuck up."

Jean leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "Look, bro. We get it. YN got you twisted right now. You hurting. But you can’t let her have you like this."

Eren nodded, snatching the blunt from Ony’s hand and taking a hit himself. "Facts. You either gon’ let this shit turn you into a simp, or you gon’ boss up. Which one?"

Ony rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the weight of everything settle in his chest again. He wanted to act like he didn’t care, that he could shake this off, but they all knew him too well. He was down bad.

After a long silence, he muttered, "Man, I don’t even know no more."

Connie clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good thing we here then, huh?"

Jean smirked. "Yeah, ‘cause we not letting you sit here drowning in your feelings all night."

Eren exhaled smoke, leaning back. "So what we doing, O? You tryna sit here and cry to PND, or you tryna get your mind right?"

Ony took another hit, held it in, then slowly exhaled. He was still pissed, still hurt, but at least his boys were here. And maybe—just maybe—that was enough for tonight.

Ony exhaled, tapping ash into the tray as he leaned back. "Man, she probably tweaking out or sum," he muttered, voice low, eyes locked on the blunt between his fingers. "She gon’ be back."

Eren side-eyed him, shaking his head. "You sure about that?"

Ony’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t answer.

Jean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Bro, you can’t keep thinking she gon’ come back just ‘cause she always did before. What if this time different?"

Ony sucked his teeth, his grip tightening around the blunt. "Man, YN ain’t going nowhere. She just acting out."

Connie huffed a laugh, rubbing his chin. "You hope she just acting out." He shrugged. "But from what my girl saying, YN already moving like she outside for real tonight."

That shit hit Ony in the chest, but he masked it with an unimpressed chuckle. "You tryna get under my skin or sum?"

"Nah, bro," Connie said, tone serious now. "I’m tryna make sure you don’t do no dumb shit thinking she gon’ come running back the second she step outside."

Ony didn’t respond immediately. He just sat there, rolling the blunt between his fingers, his head starting to buzz from the smoke.

Eren tilted his head, watching him. "So what you gon’ do if she don’t come back?"

Ony scoffed. "Nigga, she coming back."

The room went quiet for a second.

Jean exhaled through his nose. "Aight," he said simply, but his tone carried weight. Like he’d seen this story play out before. Like he already knew Ony was about to learn the hard way.

Ony kissed his teeth, shaking his head as he took another slow drag of his joint. The smoke curled from his lips, but it didn’t ease that tight feeling in his chest.

"Niggas acting like they know my girl better than me," he muttered, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor.

Eren leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. "Ain't about knowing her better, bro. It’s about calling shit how it is."

Jean nodded, rubbing his chin. "You really think she just out there getting ‘closure’?"

Ony’s nostrils flared. He stayed quiet, just pulled again from the blunt, holding the smoke in longer this time.

Connie watched him closely, then sighed, shaking his head. "Look, bro, I ain't tryna gaslight you or nothing," he said, voice a little softer. "But you sitting here talking about ‘she gon’ be back’ while she outside doing her." He shrugged. "Just make sure you ain't sitting here waiting for something that ain’t coming."

Ony scoffed, exhaling hard. "Man, whatever."

But deep down, that shit sat heavy.

Because Connie wasn’t lying.

Connie chuckled as he checked his phone, but the second he really looked at the screen, his smile dropped.

"Ayo…" he muttered, then shook his head, laughing dryly as he turned the phone toward Ony.

Ony took one glance and damn near snatched the phone out of Connie’s hand. The blunt between his fingers burned forgotten as his eyes locked on the screen.

There YN was, front and center on Solene’s IG story, ass moving, hands in her hair, her smile wide and free. And right behind her? Some nigga posted up, hands all over her waist, leaning in like he belonged there.

The other girls were cheering her on, laughing and hyping her up, but even they looked a little surprised.

And just to make shit worse, YN was singing along, clear as day—

"It’s 7PM, Friday, it’s 95 degrees, I ain’t got no nigga, and no nigga ain’t got me—"

Ony’s grip tightened around the phone. His jaw locked. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Eren let out a low whistle. "Damn," he muttered. "She bold for that one."

Jean exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "Yeah, bro…" He hesitated. "You good?"

Ony stayed silent for a second. His whole body was stiff, his leg bouncing as he stared at the screen. Then, suddenly, he threw Connie’s phone onto the couch and stood up.

"Nah," he muttered, voice tight. "Nah, fuck that."

Eren sat up straight. "Bro, chill."

"Chill?" Ony’s voice was sharp, his eyes dark. "You see that shit?" He pointed at the phone like the video was still playing. "I’m sitting here looking stupid while she out there on that type of time?"

Connie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean… I did say she was outside tonight."

Ony sucked his teeth, pacing now. "Man, I shoulda known. She love playing games." He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. "You know what’s fucked? She probably inside getting ready, smiling at herself in the mirror, knowing I’m out here like a fucking fool." He let out a bitter laugh. "Like a cunt."

Jean stood up now too, hands up in a calming gesture. "Bro, listen—"

"Nah, fuck listening," Ony snapped. "This some bullshit." His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling. "And I ain’t about to sit here and pretend like it ain’t."

Eren and Connie exchanged a look.

"Look, we get it," Eren finally said. "Shit’s foul. But what you not about to do is crash out over a girl that wants you to lose it."

Ony exhaled sharply, his head dropping forward, hands on his hips. His breathing was heavy, frustration pouring off of him.

"You need to cool the fuck down," Jean said, voice steady. "‘Cause right now? You looking real close to doing something you gon’ regret."

Connie nodded. "And that is exactly what she want, bro. For you to lose it."

Ony closed his eyes, inhaling deep. He knew they were right. He knew it. But knowing didn’t make it any less painful.

Didn’t make it any less humiliating.

Ony barely looked up when he heard the front door open. He was slouched on the couch, head tilted back, red-eyed and heavy-lidded from the blunt he’d just put out. The room was thick with the smell of weed and takeout, empty food containers stacked on the table next to the PS5 controllers.

Jean had already knocked out in the armchair, hoodie pulled over his face. Eren and Connie were still half-playing a match, but even they looked up when YN came stumbling in.

Lit was an understatement.

She was gone. Makeup slightly smudged, her once-perfect outfit now slightly rumpled. She kicked off her heels carelessly, mumbling something to herself as she nearly tripped over them.

Ony just sat there, watching.

She stopped when she noticed all of them looking, blinking slow like it took her a second to process. Then she grinned, lazy and unfazed.

"Y’all still up?" she slurred, voice thick with liquor and whatever else she’d been on.

Ony licked his lips, exhaled through his nose. "Yeah. We up."

She hummed, stretching her arms over her head before stumbling toward the hallway. "Mmm. I’ma shower."

And just like that, she kept it pushing. Not a single word about where she’d been. Not a single glance at Ony longer than necessary.

Like he wasn’t even there.

Eren let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Man…"

Ony ignored him.

Connie, however, watched Ony closely, then sighed. "You good, bro?"

Ony let his head fall back against the couch, eyes closed. He inhaled deeply, rolling his jaw.

Then, finally, he muttered, "Yeah. I’m straight."

But everybody in that room knew damn well that was a lie.

Ony said fuck this shit and raised his voice.

"Yo, YN," he called again, voice sharper this time. "Come here."

The room went dead silent. Even Jean, who had been deep in sleep, stirred at the sudden shift in Ony’s tone.

Eren and Connie exchanged glances but didn’t say a word. They knew better.

YN, halfway down the hallway, paused. Her back was still turned, but Ony saw the slight way her shoulders tensed.

She turned slowly, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable. "What?"

Ony sat up, elbows resting on his knees, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to keep himself from snapping. "Don’t ‘what’ me. Come here."

For a moment, it looked like she was about to argue, like she was going to roll her eyes and brush him off like always. But something in his face must’ve told her not to.

With an exasperated sigh, she dragged herself back into the living room, arms crossed. "What you want, Ony?"

Ony’s jaw flexed. He looked her up and down—at the smeared lip gloss, the scent of liquor clinging to her skin, the slight wobble in her stance.

Then he let out a humorless chuckle. "You deadass right now?"

YN’s brows furrowed. "What?"

"You know what." Ony leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "You really out here moving like that? Like I ain’t mean shit to you?"

She sucked her teeth, tilting her head. "I went out with my girls. That’s a problem now?"

"Nah, goin’ out ain’t the problem," Ony shot back. "It’s how you went out." He gestured toward Connie, who was still staring at his phone. "You was real comfortable on that nigga, huh?"

YN froze for a second—just a second—before she scoffed. "So we stalking my every move now? That what we doin’?"

Connie cleared his throat and put his phone down. "I didn’t even wanna show him, ma. But that shit was wild."

YN turned to Connie, eyes narrowing. "Stay outta this, Con."

"Nah, don’t tell him to stay outta shit," Ony interrupted, standing up. "You was singing, YN. 'I ain't got no nigga, and no nigga ain't got me’—that’s what we on now?"

She sucked her teeth. "It was a song, Ony. Relax."

Ony let out a bitter laugh. "A song," he repeated. "Man, you really don’t give a fuck, huh?"

"I do give a fuck!" she snapped, voice slightly slurred. "I just—I just needed a night, Ony! A night to breathe, to not—"

"Not what?" Ony stepped closer, jaw clenched. "Not deal with me? You tryna act like I been suffocating you or some shit?"

YN didn’t answer.

Her silence? That shit spoke volumes.

Ony’s nostrils flared as he exhaled through his nose. He looked at her—really looked at her. At the way she bit her lip, like she didn’t know what to say. At the way she refused to meet his eyes.

Then he shook his head. "You know what?" His voice was quieter now, but still sharp. "I ain’t even gon’ do this with you while you drunk."

He stepped back, running a hand down his face. "Go sleep that shit off, YN."

For once, she didn’t argue.

She just turned on her heel and walked away.

And Ony?

Ony sat back down, grabbed his joint, and took the longest drag of his life.

Because if he didn’t, he might just say some shit he couldn’t take back.

#black reader #black tumblr #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #ony angst #ony x black reader #sherewrytes #ony x y/n #ony smut #ony x you

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

Text

Valentine's day aint it when you're missing someone you're not supposed to

This was a Valentine's day draft that never got posted...so imma drop some angst....This is part 2 to this fic. this gone be a couple parts maybe 2 more. I like writing short multi chapters like these

The whole room went still. Even Connie, who was usually cracking jokes, had nothing to say.

Ony froze mid-drag, the blunt hanging between his fingers. His eyes snapped up to YN, and for the first time that night, he didn’t look pissed. He looked… blank.

Like she’d finally hit something she wasn’t supposed to.

"You deadass?" His voice was low, almost calm.

YN lifted her chin, arms crossed tight over her chest. "You said it, not me."

Ony let out a slow breath through his nose, shaking his head. "So that’s it? Three years, and that’s how you moving?"

YN sucked her teeth. "Man, you been checked out. You just ain’t wanna admit it."

That? That shit made something snap inside him.

Ony let out a cold laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, see, you love tellin’ yourself that bullshit, huh? That I’m the one who let go first. That way, you don’t gotta deal with the fact that you been pushing me away this whole time."

She said nothing.

"Say that shit out loud, YN," Ony pressed, stepping forward. "Tell the truth for once. You never wanted me to stay, did you?"

Silence.

Her lips parted slightly like she was going to say something, but nothing came out. And that? That was his answer.

Ony exhaled sharply and nodded. "Bet."

He turned around, grabbed his keys off the table, and headed for the door.

"Where you going?" Jean finally spoke up, voice groggy from just waking up.

Ony didn’t even look back. "Out."

YN stood there, arms still crossed, but her nails dug into her skin now. She watched as Ony opened the door, stepping out into the night without a second glance.

And for the first time, something in her chest ached.

She ignored it.

She had to.

“Fuck, Ony I’m sorry,” YN blurted out, voice cracking.

Ony froze mid-step, slowly turning back to face her. A cold laugh slipped from his lips, humorless and bitter.

“Sorry? You sorry, YN?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Nah. You know what? I’m good on all this, I’mma take my shit right now and get the fuck outta this apartment. I’m done.”

The second those words left his mouth, the energy in the room shifted.

"You deadass?" YN asked, voice quieter now, but Ony wasn’t looking at her anymore.

"Nah, you deadass," Ony shot back, shaking his head with a bitter chuckle. "You wanna be outside so bad? Bet. You can keep that shit. But I ain’t about to be the fool sitting around waiting for you to figure out what the fuck you want."

Jean, Connie, and Eren stayed silent, watching as Ony stormed past them, straight to the bedroom. The sound of drawers yanking open, shit getting tossed around, filled the apartment.

"Yo, O" Connie started, but Eren nudged him, shaking his head. Let him be.

YN stood frozen, watching Ony pack like he was running from a burning building. The reality of it hit her all at once, slamming into her chest.

She hadn’t really thought he’d leave.

She thought fuck. She thought he’d get mad, that he’d bark at her, that they’d argue like they always did, and then it’d blow over. Like it always did.

But this?

This was different.

"Ony"

"Nah." He cut her off, zipping his duffle bag with so much force it nearly broke. "You made your choice, right? Said what you said, did what you did." He finally turned to her, eyes dark, jaw tight. "Now live with it."

Her stomach twisted.

She wanted to say something, anything, but her throat locked up. The same way it always did when shit got too real.

Ony slung the bag over his shoulder and moved past her without a second look. "Yo boys, I’m out," he muttered, walking toward the door.

Jean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Come on, bro, you sure you wanna do all that right now?"

Ony didn’t answer. He just yanked open the door and stepped outside.

And this time, YN didn’t stop him.

Didn’t chase after him.

Didn’t say a damn thing.

The door slammed shut behind him, and the silence left in its wake was unbearable.

YN’s nails dug into her palms as she stared at the empty space where Ony just stood.

She got what she wanted, right?

So why the fuck did it feel like she just lost everything?

Flashback Over.

It had been 18 months since Ony walked out. 18 months of doing everything he could to keep his mind off her, but no matter how many times he told himself he was done, his thoughts always circle back to her.

He was in a new apartment now, a spacious, sleek place with floor-to-ceiling windows and a panoramic view of the city skyline. It was the kind of place he used to dream about, the kind of place he could say was his.

He’d been hitting the gym hard just like he’d promised himself. There were days he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror before his workout, but after months of pushing himself, he finally saw the changes. His body was solid now, lean muscle replacing the extra weight, and his mind? It was quieter, for a little while.

But the quiet never lasted long.

His phone buzzed on the table, and he glanced at it. It was a message from Jean.

“Yo, YN asked about you last night. Said she’s been trying to reach you, but you won’t pick up. What’s up with that?”

Ony’s lips tightened. He could feel the tension creeping up his spine, the old feelings flaring up again. He tossed his phone aside without replying.

The thing was, he couldn’t avoid her forever, and they both knew it. He'd been avoiding his boys, not because he didn't want to see them, but because he knew that meant seeing YN too. And that was still too fucking much. The thought of her, her smile, the way her eyes used to light up when she saw him it got under his skin. He hadn’t figured out how to get rid of that yet.

Even with everything he’d done—getting a new place, working on himself—he was still haunted by the what-ifs.

He’d tried everything to fill the void. Sleeping with other women, getting lost in work, spending nights at the bar. The usual distractions. But it was all just noise. None of it did anything to numb the ache. He'd try to fuck the feelings away, but they never left. He couldn’t fill the empty space inside him with someone else.

The smoke from his joint curled lazily into the air as he reclined in the armchair. His eyes were heavy, and the music from his speakers buzzed faintly in the background. Party Next Door playlist, his usual go to, the lyrics almost too fitting sometimes, but even that didn’t help. He just wanted to shut his mind off, drown out the echoes of her name in his head.

But it was always there, lurking in the background, a constant reminder of what he lost.

Ony sighed, flicking the ash off his joint. He needed something to shake him out of this spiral. Something to make him feel like he was moving forward and not just stuck in the past.

But every time he tried to push forward, YN's face would slip into his mind like she was never really gone.

He could hear her voice, still sharp, still cold when she told him to get out. Still echoing in his chest.

“You know what’s fucked?” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling, his voice rough from disuse. “She probably never gave a damn. And yet, here I am, still holding onto something that was never real.”

The burn from the joint was starting to fade, and so was his high. He sat up straight, eyes narrowing at his reflection in the window. The city lights flickered below, and for a second, he almost believed he could forget it all.

But he couldn’t. Not really.

Ony took a deep drag from his joint as he leaned back in the chair, staring blankly at the wall. The silence was comforting, but it never lasted long. There was always some damn interruption, and today was no different.

A knock at the door.

"You know the damn code, so come in," Ony muttered, barely looking up.

The door creaked open, and Eren's laugh rang out, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps. He wasn’t surprised when the whole crew piled in, like they always did. Eren, Jean, and Connie were all wearing their usual smirks, and they’d brought along two people Ony vaguely remembered from high school: Armin and Reiner.

"Damn, bro, chill," Eren said with a half-amused, half-concerned look, clearly picking up on the tension in the room.

Ony smirked, flicking the ash off his joint and leaning forward. "I’m chill," he replied flatly, his voice a little too rough for his liking. "I’m always chill."

The group shuffled in, settling in as they took in the view of his sleek new place. Armin, the soft-spoken one with the golden hair, was scanning the room like he was looking for something to talk about. Then there was Reiner, the big guy with a serious face but a smile that could light up the room. Ony barely remembered them from back in the day, but they always seemed to hang out with his boys, especially when things got wild.

Armin gave off that soft boy vibe, the kind who acted innocent but always had someone texting him. His type was the one you’d never expect to be getting play, but the boy had a line-up of options. Reiner, on the other hand? He was the opposite muscle-bound with a heavy frown on his face. Ony had always known Reiner to be the one who’d get caught up in his feelings, especially about his ex. But when he wasn’t getting stuck on that, he had no problem sharing the wealth.

“Yo, it’s been a minute,” Armin said, his voice kind but not without the hint of playful teasing. “You’re looking good, though, bro. Working out and shit?” He gave Ony a nod of approval, his eyes flicking toward the weights in the corner of the room.

Ony nodded absently, tossing the joint into the ashtray. "Yeah, man. Been busy. Trying to get my head straight." He gestured to the group. "You know how it is."

Reiner took a seat on the couch, giving Ony a raised eyebrow. "You sure that’s all you’ve been doing? You’re not hiding any trouble back there, are you?" His tone was light but laced with curiosity, like he was trying to get Ony to crack a smile. Or maybe crack a joke.

Eren leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, the usual grin on his face. "You know we’re all here for you, bro. Whatever it is, you ain't gotta keep it locked up."

Ony stared at them for a moment, the pressure of their concern weighing on him, but he wasn’t in the mood for it. The whole situation with YN had him on edge, and no one in the room had the answers he was looking for.

"I'm straight," Ony muttered, trying to brush it off. He didn’t want to get into it right now, not with everyone watching him like he was some kind of damn project.

Connie, who had been quiet up until now, broke the silence with his signature smirk. "I don’t know, bro. You look like you need to smoke some more. Relax. We ain't here to judge, but if you're still thinking about YN...that's gotta be killing you, huh?"

Ony’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to snap when he saw the way Reiner and Armin looked at each other, both knowing damn well what had gone down with him and YN. He couldn’t blame them; the whole damn city knew, it felt like.

"Man, don’t talk about her," Ony growled, his jaw clenched.

Eren’s expression softened a little, and he stepped forward. "Nah, we just worried about you, bro. You’ve been in your head too much."

Ony blew out a frustrated breath. "I know. I know," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "But it's not that simple."

It was never that simple, and they knew it. They could see the way he stiffened when anyone brought up YN's name. They’d seen him struggle through the pain of losing her, but none of them could understand it the way Ony did.

“Look, let’s play something, alright?” Eren suggested, trying to change the mood. "We got the PS5 set up, and y'all know how it is. We don’t have to talk about the heavy shit right now."

Reiner laughed, slapping his hands together. "Hell yeah, let’s get on that shit. But I'm winning this time, mark my words."

"You're always winning," Jean chimed in, rolling his eyes. "But you only win when you get lucky."

Armin gave a little chuckle. "Yeah, right. Lucky with the way you all play, maybe."

Ony didn't say much as they started setting up the game, just focusing on the noise and the familiar sounds of his friends. It was a temporary distraction. He needed that, for sure.

But no matter how much they tried to pull him out of his head, the weight of it all remained. And in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the image of YN dancing, carefree and lost in the moment with someone else.

A few months had passed, but some wounds ran deeper than time could heal.

Ony’s phone buzzed on the table, vibrating against the glass surface. The sound barely registered as he sat with his boys, the familiar hum of the PS5 controllers and their trash-talking filling the space around him. He was lost in the game, trying his best to shake off the heavy thoughts that kept creeping in.

But then, Eren’s voice cut through the noise.

"Yo, what’s good, YN?" Eren said, casually picking up the phone without missing a beat, as if he’d done this a thousand times before.

Ony didn’t even notice at first his focus was entirely on the game, hands working the controller like it was second nature. But then the room went dead silent.

The kind of silence that felt like it was stretching on forever.

Eren’s casual tone turned sharp. “Why you calling Ony?” he asked, leaning back against the couch, holding the phone out slightly, like he didn’t know if he should be giving it back.

Ony froze mid-move, his thumb hanging in the air above the controller. The sound of his friends laughing and bickering slowly faded, and his stomach twisted into a knot. That name.

YN.

He didn’t want to hear it, not like this, not with them all in the room.

But there it was. Eren’s question, hanging in the air.

He could feel the tension in the room immediately. Connie’s eyes flicked toward him, Reiner sitting a little straighter, Armin lowering his controller. They were all waiting, expecting something.

Ony blinked, trying to keep his cool, but it was hard. His throat felt dry, and he could almost hear YN’s voice from earlier, from that night. She was probably out there, living her life, doing whatever the hell she wanted. And he? He was here, stuck in the same damn cycle. Still thinking about her. Still fucking up.

Before he could say anything, Eren spoke again.

"Yo, YN, you good?" Eren's tone shifted from playful to a little more serious, like he was trying to gauge what the hell was going on. “You got something to say to Ony or...?”

The air in the room was thick now. Ony could feel every set of eyes on him, but he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to react, didn’t want to show how much this was still eating at him. But YN calling, out of nowhere, hit him like a brick.

She never called. Not after everything.

“Eren, what the hell are you doing?” Ony’s voice cracked out before he could stop it, the anger bubbling up inside him. He started reaching for the phone, his hands shaking a little.

But Eren wasn’t backing down. He held the phone up, still in his hand, not giving it to Ony just yet.

“Yo, relax,” Eren said, holding up a hand like he was trying to de-escalate the situation. “What’s up, YN?”

The room was dead silent, and Ony could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest. He didn’t want to do this in front of his boys, didn’t want to show that side of himself again. Not like this.

But it was too late.

Everything he’d been holding back, all those months of distance, of pretending like he was fine, came crashing down. And he couldn’t stop it.

Eren’s eyes flicked between him and the phone, sensing the tension, but he didn’t back off.

“So what’s it gonna be, YN?” Eren asked, his voice softer now, trying to pull something out of her. "You calling for closure or you just trying to stir up shit again?”

Ony’s chest tightened, his mouth dry. He didn't know if he wanted to hear what YN had to say, or if he was just afraid of hearing nothing at all.

The phone stayed quiet for a beat.

Then, finally, YN’s voice came through.

"I’m not trying to stir up anything," she said, her tone distant, flat. "I just... wanted to talk to him."

Ony’s fists clenched at his sides, and he wanted to slam something, wanted to scream. This wasn’t how he imagined this call going.

He wanted to grab the phone out of Eren’s hand and hang up. But at the same time, he wanted to hear her voice—needed to. Maybe it was closure. Maybe it wasn’t.

Eren turned the phone slightly, the speaker facing Ony now. "She wants to talk to you, bro."

Ony hesitated, staring at the phone like it was some kind of enemy. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to be that guy anymore, the one who couldn’t let go.

But damn, he still wasn’t over it.

"Give me the damn phone," Ony said, his voice low and dangerous.

Eren raised an eyebrow but handed the phone over. Ony snatched it, bringing it to his ear, trying to steady his breath.

“YN,” he said, the name spilling out in a rush. “What do you want?”

Before he could say anything more, Eren took the phone back quick, deliberate, holding it like it was something dangerous. He tapped the speakerphone button, eyes locked on Ony, gaze hard with something almost protective underneath.

“Say what you gotta say, YN,” Eren said, voice calm but firm. The kind of calm that made everything feel even more tense.

Ony sat there, mouth slightly agape, his fists still clenched. He hadn’t expected this. Not like this. Not with everyone listening in.

The room fell completely still as YN’s voice crackled through the speaker, like she was standing right there.

“Eren, don’t... don't put me on speaker,” YN’s voice came through, a little shaky. There was something in her tone that made Ony’s stomach drop. But she didn’t ask for the call to be ended no, she was still here, still talking.

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she continued, her voice quieter now, more guarded. “You’re acting like everything’s fine, and it’s not. It’s never been. You’ve got your issues, I’ve got mine, but we need to figure it out. I’m not calling to fight, but we need to talk.”

Eren’s eyes flicked between the phone and Ony, sensing the shift. He glanced over at the other guys, but none of them moved. Everyone was waiting for Ony to react, but it felt like time had slowed.

Ony’s breathing was shallow, like he was holding back the wave that's crashing against him. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear how YN thought they could just pick up the pieces of something broken like it was no big deal. He didn’t want to hear anything from her after everything that went down.

But damn it, his heart was still tangled up in it, and hearing her voice even through the coldness pulled at him.

Eren’s eyes narrowed, sensing the battle inside Ony. “You hear that, bro?” he said, his voice quieter now. “She’s not calling to fight, but she wants to talk. It’s up to you now.”

Ony didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to listen anymore, but the temptation was there. The pain was there. He was still hurting.

“Ion even know what you want from me,” Ony finally said, voice tight, raw. “What you think this is, YN? You really think we just gon act like shit sweet? Like you wasn’t out here playin wit my feelings... playin wit me? You think one lil phone call gon fix all that?”

The tension was suffocating. The air in the room hung heavy with everything left unsaid. Eren stayed quiet, letting Ony handle it, even though everyone in the room felt the shift. He was letting Ony handle it, even though it was clear that everyone in the room was on edge, waiting for the fallout.

There was a long pause before YN spoke again.

“I’m not asking for everything to go back to normal,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I just wanted you to know I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant for it to end like that. I didn’t want to lose you, but I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for anything, and I fucked up.”

Ony’s throat tightened. It was like all the anger he had been holding onto everything he thought was justifiable started to break down. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold onto the edge, but her words were getting to him.

“I never asked for any of this, YN,” he snapped, but his words felt hollow now, weaker. “You been playing YN since the jump. I was always tryna be there, love you, be faithful all that shit. You think I forgot what you said and did. Now you wanna talk?”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, and Ony could feel the weight of the world sitting on his chest. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to react.

“I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, Ony,” YN said, voice trembling slightly now. “But I’m here. I just... need you to understand that I didn’t want this. I wanted you, but I was scared. I didn’t know what I was doing. And I’m sorry.”

The words hit Ony like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, he just sat there, breathing heavily, trying to process what he was hearing. His mind was racing.

She was sorry? After everything that went down?

It felt like everything inside him was at war. Part of him wanted to reach through the phone again and demand more from her. But another part of him, the part that was still in love with her, just wanted to hear more. Wanted to understand.

Eren shifted, his gaze flicking between Ony and the phone,

Ony leaned forward, his hand shaky for a second as he grabbed the phone, his thumb hovering over the end call button. The words YN had said echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let her back in, not like this. Not after everything.

With a deep breath, he pressed the button, hanging up on her call without another word. The line went dead, and for a moment, everything in the room was still.

Ony leaned back into the couch, his eyes closing as he let the silence settle in. He grabbed the joint from the table and a lighter and took a long, deep drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs, burning away the tension and frustration. His body relaxed, the high slowly starting to take over, but his mind... his mind was still spinning.

He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling as his thoughts raced. He couldn’t let her back in. He couldn’t just drop everything and forgive her for what happened. For how she left. He couldn’t forget how it felt to be tossed aside like that.

But even now, hearing her voice again saying all those things he’d wanted to hear for months it still stung. His chest ached. His heart fucking ached.

Ony took another hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs again, trying to drown out the voices in his head. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending like he wasn’t still affected. Still fucking hurt by it all.

The guys in the room were quiet, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Eren glanced over, but he didn’t say anything. He knew better than to press him right now. Everyone could feel it. the weight of YN’s words, the pull it still had on Ony, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

He wasn’t sure what came next, but right now, he needed this. Needed the silence. Needed the space.

But damn, it was hard.

Eren leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on Ony, who had just hung up on YN. The silence that followed felt heavy, the tension hanging in the air like thick smoke.

"Damn, that's cold," Eren muttered, his voice low but cutting through the stillness of the room.

Connie, who had been watching the whole exchange, couldn’t hold back. He started hooting and hollering, laughing louder than necessary. "Bro, you really did that? You’re savage as hell!" He leaned back in his chair, grinning like he just saw the greatest show on earth.

Ony just stared ahead, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He took another drag of his joint, his mind still buzzing from the call, his thoughts a mess of anger and something else,something he couldn’t put into words.

"You heard her, though," Eren said, leaning in slightly. "She sounded different. Like... she actually regrets it, man."

"Yeah, well, it's too late for that," Ony muttered, his voice rough, almost hoarse. "I don't got time for apologies or whatever. She fucked up."

Connie raised an eyebrow, still smirking. "Man, if she came back now, you'd probably still hit that."

Ony shot him a look, his expression cold. "Don’t even start. I ain’t that weak." He took another deep hit of the joint, blowing the smoke out slowly, his eyes narrowing. "She had her chance. She had more than one, actually. But when I needed her, she was fucking cold. So nah, I’m good."

Connie's grin faded, his teasing dying down as he saw the seriousness in Ony’s face. Eren leaned forward, his voice softer now. "You sure about that? 'Cause it doesn’t look like you’re over it, bro."

Ony was quiet for a long moment. He wasn’t sure how to answer that. Was he over it? He wanted to be. He thought he was. But there was something about hearing her voice again... it was like a crack in the dam. A little too much pressure, and everything just started to spill out.

"Yeah," he finally said, his voice firm but still carrying the weight of his emotions. "I'm sure."

Jean leaned back in his chair, smirking at Ony’s response. “So, you coming to my birthday party or not?”

Ony let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “We too old for that shit, bro.”

Jean rolled his eyes, clearly unfazed by Ony’s reluctance. “Anyways, it’s just a house party. Nothing crazy.”

Ony’s eyes narrowed, his hand still holding the joint, though he wasn’t really smoking it anymore. “Is your girl gonna be there?”

Jean shot him a look like he was asking the most obvious question. “Duh, she’s my girl. You think I’m gonna leave her behind?”

Ony sighed, the weight of the conversation sinking in. “Then that means YN is gonna be there, too,” he muttered, his tone growing heavier. “And I don’t wanna be nowhere near where she’s at.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Eren shot a glance at Connie, who raised an eyebrow, his smirk slipping into something more curious.

“Come on, man,” Jean said, his voice sounding a little more serious. “You can’t keep running from this forever. It’s just a party. You’re not gonna pretend like you’re not curious about how she’s doing?”

Ony’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He just stared at his phone screen, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “I don’t need to see her, man. It’s over. I’m good.”

Eren leaned back, crossing his arms. “Yeah, but sometimes you need closure, bro. Even if it’s just seeing her out there, living her life... it might make you feel better.”

Ony let out a sharp exhale, his fingers tapping on the armrest of the chair. “Closure?” He chuckled bitterly. “Man, fuck closure. I don’t need that shit from her. She had her chances.”

Jean tilted his head, trying to catch his gaze. “You’re just gonna avoid her forever then?”

Ony finally looked up, locking eyes with Jean. “I’m not avoiding her. I’m just done. You don’t get to play with people’s feelings and then expect them to be okay with it when you decide you’re done. Nah, I’m good.”

The room fell silent again, everyone processing what Ony had said. Jean rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the guys. “Alright, I get it. But you coming to my party or not? I don’t need you out here sulking, man.”

Ony flicked the ash from his joint, his voice softer now. “I don’t know, bro. We’ll see

Armin smirked, scrolling through his phone like he was picking his team for the night. “Ony if you need a girl to go with, I got Sasha, Solange, Annie, Jalessa, and Jalene yeah, they’re twins.” He looked up at the group. “And you know how I do.”

Connie immediately cut him off, his laughter booming through the room. “Damn, you think you DMX with all these girls’ names, bruh?” he teased, shaking his head. “You need to chill.”

Armin laughed, not missing a beat. “Nah, I’m just saying, Ony gonna need a date for Jean’s birthday party. Ain’t no way he’s showing up solo, especially with all these women around.”

Ony scoffed, leaning back in his chair, rolling his eyes. "I’m good, bro. I don’t need no date. I’m not trying to be out there looking like a damn clown."

But the guys weren’t hearing it. Jean raised an eyebrow. “Man, you’re acting like you’re too good for this shit. Just come through, have a good time, maybe meet someone new. It’s Jean’s birthday let loose.”

Ony took a deep drag from his joint, leaning forward slightly. “Nah, I’m not trying to do all that. I’m good staying in my lane.”

But Armin, still scrolling on his phone, chimed in again. “I mean, I could line something up for you. You just gotta say the word.”

Ony shook his head with a smirk, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “You know, if I wanted a damn wingman, I’d call you, but I don’t need that either. I'm straight."

Eren chuckled, shaking his head at the back-and-forth. “Bro, don’t make it more complicated than it is. Just come through, see how things play out.”

Ony mumbled under his breath, barely loud enough for the guys to hear. "I’m kinda fucking Janique."

Eren, sitting up straighter, squinted at him. "Speak up, bro. I can’t hear you. Repeat that."

Jean leaned in with a grin. "Yeah, say it again, man."

Armin, his eyes wide in surprise, suddenly jumped in. "You mean Janique Martin? The one with that Trini accent and them thick thighs?"

Ony froze, eyes narrowing slightly. "How you know her?"

Armin just smirked, clearly entertained. "Man, who doesn't know her? She's everywhere. Plus, she went to high school with us. We all seen her at the parties back then." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "And last time I checked, you were talking to her a couple years ago. Didn't expect you to be fucking with her now, though."

Ony shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, well, shit happens. She hit me up recently, and I figured why not."

Eren snickered. "Damn, you really out here with Janique Martin, huh? I never would've guessed that one."

Jean, still amused, leaned back. "Look at Ony out here living his best life while the rest of us are stuck dealing with drama."

Armin laughed, giving Ony a knowing look. "You’re playing it smooth now, but I see you. Janique ain't the type to just be a fling. You might wanna watch yourself."

Ony rolled his eyes, taking another hit from his joint. "I’m just vibing. Ain't no need to overthink it."

Ony exhaled a cloud of smoke and passed the joint to Armin, his voice low but clear. "Correction, I’m fucking her, not fucking with her. She's just a fling when I need to clear my head." He leaned back, trying to act indifferent as if the weight of his words didn’t affect him.

Reiner, sitting on the other side of the room, raised an eyebrow and gave Ony a pointed look. "You mean when your dick hard over YN?" he said, the tone of his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

The room went still for a moment, and Ony felt a sharp breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t tell if he was more pissed off at Reiner for saying it so bluntly or at himself for even letting that thought slip.

He looked down at his hands, his knuckles tightening around the blunt, then glanced up, his voice colder now. "Fuck that. I ain’t even thinking about her. That shit’s old. I moved on." He said it with a firmness he didn’t feel, hoping no one would catch the doubt in his voice.

Armin raised an eyebrow as he took a drag from the joint. "You sure about that, bro? 'Cause every time YN's name comes up, it's like a switch flips inside you."

Jean, sensing the rising tension, threw in a quick joke to break the mood. "Yo, let's not get all deep. Ony got a new thing now, right? Janique's the one who's got his attention."

Then Connie said, “Aight, then we gon put it to the test. Pull up to Jean’s party,pretty sure YN gon be there. If you can make it through the whole night without tweakin or dippin early like you always do, I’ll let you hold my Hellcat for a month.”

Ony rolled his eyes. “Man, I got my own Hellcat. Come wit somethin else.”

Connie smirked, clearly enjoying the challenge he just threw down. "Aight, aight," he said, tapping his fingers on his phone screen like he was making plans. "If you got your own Hellcat, then how about this: I’ll let you rock my Jeep for a whole month, no questions asked. You just gotta last the whole night at Jean's party without snapping, acting out, or getting caught up in your feelings over YN."

Ony rolled his eyes, trying to act unfazed, but deep down, he could already feel the weight of that damn challenge sitting in his chest. "I don’t need your Jeep, bro," Ony muttered, trying to keep his cool. "I got my own shit. Come with something else."

Jean, still chuckling, leaned forward, his grin widening. "Damn, you really gonna back out? Nah, I think you’re scared to run into YN."

Ony snorted, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling slowly. "Scared? Nah, I just don’t need that kinda drama. That’s all." His voice had an edge to it, but the truth was, his heart wasn’t as convinced as his mouth.

Armin smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Bro, you’ve been dodging these parties for months. It’s like you’ve been keeping away from her on purpose."

Ony shot him a look, but it didn’t phase Armin. "I ain't dodging shit. I just don’t need the headache," Ony said, his voice tight, but even as he said it, the words felt like they were meant for himself more than anyone else.

Reiner, still mostly quiet, looked between the group before adding, "Man, you can’t keep avoiding her forever. You know that, right?"

Connie let out a low whistle, clearly intrigued. "So what's it gonna be, Ony? You gonna prove us wrong and show you can be around YN without flipping out? Or you gonna sit this one out like you always do?"

Ony felt the weight of the bet settling in his chest, the challenge pulling him in like a damn magnet. He knew he shouldn’t care, knew he shouldn’t let their words get under his skin, but the idea of proving them all wrong, of not letting YN still have that kind of hold over him, made him feel like he had something to prove.

He leaned back, flicked the ash off his blunt, and exhaled slowly, looking each of them in the eye. "Fine. I’ll go. But don’t expect me to be a fucking puppet for your entertainment. I’m not here to play games."

Connie smirked, satisfied with the response. "Aight, bet. Let’s see if you really can keep your cool."

Ony stood up, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. "I’m not here to prove shit to anyone. But I’ll show you all I can handle it."

Armin said, “I’m definitely bringing my Glock.”

They all turned to him. Ony squinted. “What hood bitch you fuckin now?”

Armin shrugged. “From which hood?”

Ony let out a sharp laugh. “Yo, your dick gon fall off one day, man.”

Armin waved him off. “It ain’t for me. I’m bringing that Glock for you. ‘Cause the moment YN start actin up and you can’t deal you gon air that party out. Jean gon be pissed.”

Ony raised an eyebrow, not sure if he should laugh or be concerned. He took a slow drag from his joint, blew the smoke out, then leaned back and smirked. “Man, you wild as hell. Who the hell brings a Glock to a party?”

Armin didn’t crack a smile. “I ain’t bringing it for fun. I’m bringing it for you. ‘Cause I know how you get when she show up.”

Ony shook his head, jaw tightening. Armin wasn’t wrong, and that’s what made it worse.

“I’m not finna do that,” Ony muttered. “I don’t need your damn gun. I’ll handle my shit.”

Armin cut him a look. “That’s what you say now. But we both know how quick you lose it when it come to her.”

Connie laughed from the side. “So we really think Ony gon wild out at Jean’s party? Damn. I thought you was tryna move on, bro.”

Ony rolled his eyes. “I been moved on. I’m just tryna not lose my mind. But y’all keep actin like I’m some damn bomb waiting to blow.”

Armin held his hands up, backing off a bit. “Aight, cool. I hear you. Still bringing it, though. Just in case shit get hot.”

Jean’s voice came from the kitchen. “Yo, can we not make my party sound like a warzone?”

Ony shot him a glare, then turned back to Armin. “Fine. Bring the damn thing. But don’t act like I need it. I’m good.”

Reiner leaned against the wall, let out a dry laugh. “If you say so. But we all know YN got you twisted up. That always had you on edge and crashing out.”

Ony didn’t respond. Just stared. The silence said everything. He was already in his head, battling the mix of anger and longing he hadn’t been able to shake.

He didn’t want to go to that party. Didn’t want to see her. But his boys had called his bluff. Now he had to show up. Had to prove he could handle it.

“Let’s just get to the damn party,” Ony muttered, heading for the door. “I’m done talkin about this shit.”

#black reader #black tumblr #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #ony angst #ony x black reader #sherewrytes #ony x y/n #ony smut #ony x you #aot x reader #onyakapon

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

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Blog/ Personal Update

For those who weren't aware why I wasn't posting as much.

Been Job hunting, working on opening my own business. Dealt with multiple family deaths and drama and the end of my latest relationship in the last 5 months but I'm back on here now so I'll be slowly working back to posting as often as I can.. So go easy on me :)

#black tumblr #black reader #sherewrytes #jujutsu kaisen #aot x black reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #aot x reader #jjk x reader #onyankopon x reader

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

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Gonna start back posting this weekend... don't like leaving yall for too long

#black tumblr #black reader #sherewrytes #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen #aot x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #aot x reader #jjk x reader #onyankopon x reader

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

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Gonna be taking a week off rom today for bereavement for my aunts passing...

#black tumblr #sherewrytes #black reader

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

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𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 21

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki @helightknight21@dylsw@ria-s-writes@sleepymothafterhours@sukunasstomachtongue@cosmic-lovr@imm0rtalbutterfly@kyo-kyo1 @choppersworlds-blog

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

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Chapter 21: Drowning in Silence

Hours later, I came to, Selene sprawled out next to me on the bed, her body curled into mine. My head was pounding, and my limbs felt heavy as I stretched and yawned.

Then came the loud, insistent knocking.

I frowned, glancing at the clock. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but the knocking didn’t let up. Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the door and opened it.

There she was. Y/N.

My chest tightened.

Why is she here?

The thought hit hard, my stomach twisting.

I stared at her, aware of how I must look—disheveled, hollow, hopeless.

I stood there, the weight of her gaze sinking into me like a blade. Y/N looked at me, her face a mix of anger, sadness, and something else I couldn’t quite place. Her eyes flicked over me, lingering on my disheveled hair, the bags under my eyes, and the faint remnants of last night still clinging to my skin.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice rough, laced with the aftermath of whatever poison I’d filled myself with hours ago.

She crossed her arms, standing her ground even as her expression softened for a brief second. "We need to talk, Sukuna."

I laughed bitterly, leaning against the doorframe. "You sure? Doesn’t seem like there’s much left to say between us."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don’t do that. Don’t act like this is some game."

I rubbed a hand down my face, trying to shake off the haze. Behind me, I heard Selene stirring, the sound of her moving under the sheets unmistakable. Y/N’s eyes darted past me, catching the movement, and I watched her jaw tighten.

"You’ve got company," she said, her voice colder now.

Why come over now YN why?

I turned slightly, glancing back at Selene, who was walking towards me, hair messy, wearing nothing but one of my shirts. She grinned lazily, clearly unbothered by Y/N’s presence. "Who’s this?" Selene asked, her tone dripping with smug curiosity.

Just my fucking luck

I clenched my jaw, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "Doesn’t matter," I muttered, stepping outside and closing the door behind me before Y/N could say anything.

"You’re unbelievable," she said, shaking her head as she turned away from me slightly, as if looking at me for too long would hurt.

"You shouldn’t have come here," I said, my voice quieter this time.

Fuck, I wish you were still mine?

"You and Toji... whatever it is you have now, go back to that. You don’t need to be here."

She turned back to me, her eyes blazing. "You think this is about me and Toji? Sukuna, I’m here because of you. Because I care, even after everything." Her voice cracked slightly, and she took a deep breath, steadying herself

Still care….she….still cares…..

I stared at her, unable to respond. The weight of her words sat heavy in the air between us, cutting through the numbness I’d been clinging to.

"You look like hell," she said softly, her voice losing its edge. "And I don’t know what it’s going to take for you to see it, but you’re killing yourself."

You think I don’t know that baby.

"Maybe I am," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Her face twisted in pain, and she reached out like she wanted to touch me but stopped herself. "Sukuna, please..."

Please don’t beg YN… It’s breaking me

Selene finally spoke up with an amused smirk on her face. "You good out here, or should I go?"

Y/N’s eyes darted to her, then back to me, and for a moment, I saw something break in her. Without another word, she turned and walked away, her pace quick and determined.

"Y/N!" I called after her, but she didn’t stop.

I stood there, watching her leave, the ache in my chest growing with every step she took. Selene’s voice cut through the silence. "She doesn’t seem like much fun."

I turned to her, my expression cold. "Go home, Selene."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered, disappearing back inside to grab her things.

When she left, I sat on the porch steps, staring at the empty street. The silence was suffocating now, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the full weight of my choices crushing down on me.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been sitting there, but the streetlights were buzzing faintly when I saw headlights flash across the driveway. Geto’s car pulled up first, followed by Gojo’s sleek ride. Just as I thought this night couldn’t get worse, Toji’s truck screeched to a halt behind them.

He was out of the truck before the engine had fully stopped, slamming the door and storming toward me with a fury I hadn’t seen in years.

Before I could even crack a joke, his hand grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me to my feet. “Back for more, lover boy?” I sneered, the bitterness rolling off my tongue.

Toji’s fist connected with my face before I even finished the sentence. The hit sent me stumbling back, but I caught myself on the porch railing, laughing through the sting. “What’s that for?” I wiped my lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. “Let me guess—didn’t expect Y/N to come see me, huh? What did she tell you, Zenin?”

“She didn’t have to tell me a damn thing!” Toji barked, stepping closer, his fists clenched. His chest heaved as he glared at me, his jaw tight. “I knew you’d pull some shit the moment she came here.”

I smirked, pushing myself off the railing. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.”

“Don’t test me, Sukuna.” His voice was low, dangerous, and filled with venom.

Geto stepped between us before Toji could swing again, placing a hand on Toji’s chest. “That’s enough,” he said firmly. “We’re not doing this here.”

Gojo leaned casually against the car, watching the scene unfold like it was some kind of soap opera. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, huh, Sukuna?” he drawled, a mocking grin tugging at his lips.

“Shut the fuck up, Satoru,” I spat, glaring at him before turning back to Toji. “So, what now? You came all this way to babysit me? Or are you just marking your territory?”

Toji’s eyes narrowed, but Geto’s grip on his shoulder tightened, holding him back. “Don’t give him the satisfaction,” Geto muttered.

“Satisfaction?” I barked out a laugh. “You think this is fun for me? Watching you play house with Y/N? You think I don’t know what this is?” I jabbed a finger toward Toji. “You’re not here for her. You’re here because you’re scared. Scared that no matter how much she tries to forget me, you’ll never be enough.”

SHUT UP SUKUNA SHUT UP

Toji lunged, but this time Geto shoved him back. “Enough!” Geto snapped, his usual calm demeanor cracking. “This isn’t helping anyone!”

Toji’s chest heaved as he stared at me, his eyes blazing with rage. “You’re pathetic, Sukuna,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t care about Y/N. You don’t even care about yourself.”

WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE KNOW HE DOSN’T KNOW MY LIFE

I chuckled darkly, shaking my head. “And yet here you are, worried about what I’m doing. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

“Walk away, Toji,” Geto said firmly. “He’s not worth it.”

Toji stared at me for a moment longer before finally stepping back, his shoulders tense. “You’re lucky,” he muttered, turning toward his truck. “Next time, you won’t be.”

I sank back onto the porch steps, my laughter fading into silence. Gojo approached, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and stared down at me. “You’re a mess, man,” he said simply.

“Yeah, well, messes don’t clean themselves,” I muttered, lighting up a cigarette.

Geto sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “One of these days, Sukuna, you’re going to push too far.”

“Maybe,” I said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “But not tonight.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the anger boiling up inside of me like a storm threatening to break loose. Toji pacing around my yard, like I was some kind of villain for Y/N’s pain, like I could control it, made me snap. I shoved the door open, the wood slamming against the wall with a sharp bang. I stood there, practically seething, my chest heaving.

"You think I wanted any of this?!" I shouted, my voice raw, tearing through the house. "You think I asked for this? You think I asked to break her heart?! You want me to admit it? Yeah, fine. I'm an addict. You want me to wear that like a fucking badge?!"

SHUT UP SUKUNA THEY DON’T CARE

I felt my fists clenching at my sides, but the words kept coming, fueled by all the shit I’d buried deep down inside. "You all wanna see me as this fuck-up, huh? The one who doesn’t care about anyone? Well, I’m here, aren’t I? Just waiting for you to kick me when I’m down, telling me how bad I fucked up."

THEY’RE NOT LISTENING SUKUNA SHUT UP!

I ran a hand through my hair, pacing now, a sharp pain slicing through my chest. “That old Sukuna? He’s dead. He died when Jin did.”

I could feel the tears threatening to break free, but I fought them back, my throat tightening as the truth spilled out of me like a flood. "You guys don’t know the half of it. After Jin died... my parents showed up. My father? He beat the shit out of me, blamed me for Jin’s death. And my mother? She stood there. She just... stood there and watched.

SHUT UP SUKUNA STOP TALKING!

You think you know what it’s like? You don’t know a goddamn thing. You don’t know what it feels like to be abandoned by the people who are supposed to love you."

My voice cracked at the end, the bitterness turning into something darker, something more vulnerable. I hated feeling like this, hated letting them see how far gone I really was, but I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. "So go ahead. Tell me I’m a mess. I don’t care anymore. But don’t act like you know me. You don’t. None of you do."

I looked at them—Geto, Gojo, Toji—eyes wild, shoulders tense. The silence that followed felt like an eternity.

My breathing was erratic as I picked up anything in my path, throwing it across the room. Photos of my family, once cherished memories, shattered against the walls. The sound of glass breaking was almost cathartic, the pieces of my past scattering at my feet. I kept going, not caring about anything but the rage and pain surging through me.

I stopped and turned to them, my voice trembling with fury. "What the fuck are you guys staring at me for? You wanna do something? Stop me then!" I pointed at the broken remnants of my life scattered around me. "But you can't, can you? 'Cause deep down, you don't really know me. And the one... the one person who did—" I paused, the words choking me as I looked away. "The one person who really knew me is gone... and he's with the love of my life now."

I FEEL LIKE I CAN’T BREATHE

I sank to the floor, feeling the weight of my body and my mind. My hands were shaking, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t calm down. The anger, the guilt, the sorrow—all of it was too much. But I had to keep going. I needed them to hear me.

I dragged my hands through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh. "Did you know... the first time I ever did drugs, I was 13 years old?" I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "Jin caught me. Of course, he never told anyone. But sometimes, I wish he did. Maybe it would've changed things."

MAYBE IT WAS 11 I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and I closed my eyes, letting the weight of my confession settle. "I was just a fucking kid... a scared little kid trying to get away from everything."

I sat there for a moment, the quiet of the room pressing down on me. It was a struggle, but I needed them to know, needed someone to hear the truth.

The room felt colder with each word, each confession. My chest tightened as I let out the words I had buried for so long.

"I learned how to make lean off of hanging with the wrong crowd. They wouldn't give me any, so I made it at home." I laughed dryly, shaking my head. "The feeling was euphoric. For once, everything was calm. It wasn’t noisy, but the coming-down feeling? It made me sick."

I looked up at Toji, locking eyes with him. "Jin hid my secret for years, hoping I’d stop.

He knew I never did, but I made it through high school. Got into a great university. So don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. No one knows that better than I do."

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "But it's like nothing ever changes. I keep losing control. I’m stuck in this shit, and no matter what I do, I can’t get out."

I paused, my mind racing, before I turned to Toji once more. "I can’t be friends with you anymore, man. It’s... it’s killing me, watching you with her.

Watching you be happy with someone I—" I cut myself off, staring at the ground for a moment before continuing. "It’s too much. Yes, I’m selfish for saying that, but it’s just the truth. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with it. With you."

I could feel the anger bubbling up again, but it was different this time. It wasn’t just anger at Toji; it was anger at myself. At everything I had done, at everything I had let slip through my fingers. But I couldn’t stop it now.

"So if you hate me for it, fine. I get it. But I can’t keep being the guy who just watches you walk away with her, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not."

I felt the weight of my own words crash down on me, each one heavier than the last. “I was never faithful to Y/N. I was more faithful to my vices than her,” I continued, the bitterness slipping into my voice.

“But somehow, she saw who I really am and loved me for it. The more she loved me, the more I hated myself. I hated being an addict. I hated hiding from her, but she saw me anyway."

My laugh was hollow, almost mocking. "I feel like she always knew. Knew about the lies, the cheating, the addiction... but she chose to stay." I shook my head, trying to keep myself from breaking down again.

"You guys are worried about me during my self-destructive spiral, but the final nail in that coffin was when she left me."

I gestured around me, frustration lacing my every movement. “All this? This is just the aftermath. This is what’s left after everything I did to destroy us. I watched her walk away, and all I could think was, I deserve this."

I paced a few steps, feeling the rage simmer in me again, but it wasn’t just anger at her, at Toji, or even at myself anymore. It was everything.

"None of you get it. I didn’t just lose her. I lost myself a long time ago. And I’ve been trying to fill that void with anything I can." My voice broke slightly, but I refused to let it show.

“I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if I can.”

I turned back toward them, feeling the lump in my throat. "So yeah, I’m a fuck-up. I’ve fucked up more times than I can count. But don’t act like I don’t know. Don’t act like I don’t feel it, too."

The silence that followed was suffocating. I glared at them all, waiting for something—anything—to break the tension. My heart raced in my chest as I waited for one of them to speak, but they all just stood there, staring at me like I was some kind of alien.

So I raised my voice, pushing them harder. "So, what? You guys got nothing to say? You’re just gonna stand there? You’re always saying I can talk to you, well, I’m fucking talking! Answer me, man!"

SAY SOMETHING! ANYTHING! PLEASE

Toji flinched at my outburst, his posture tightening, but he didn’t say anything. Geto's eyes shifted away, and Gojo—Gojo just stared, his expression unreadable.

“Answer me!” I barked, stepping closer. I could feel my fists clenching, the rage coursing through me like electricity. “All this shit you’ve been saying, all this ‘we’re here for you’—don’t just stand there and look at me like I’m the problem. I’m talking to you! I need to hear it, man.”

FUCKING ANSWER ME! SHOW ME I’M JUST USELESS LIKE EVERYONE THINKS

Gojo shifted, his jaw tightening, and I could see he was about to say something, but the words didn’t come. They were all just frozen, stuck in some kind of limbo between caring and not knowing how to help me. It pissed me off more than anything.

The silence around me felt suffocating, but I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, the weight of them pressing harder than ever. My voice was quieter now, barely more than a whisper, but the pain in it was raw.

I SHOULDN'T HAVE SAID ANYTHING

"I'm done here, man," I said, voice trembling. "This is why I kept everything to myself. You don’t get it. You think I’m just a fuck-up? No, you don’t understand why I am the way I am. Did you know I was the last person Jin texted?

He told me I should lay off the drugs, be better. That’s the last message I got from him. And you know where I was? Right in my room, high out of my mind."

I paused, looking up at them, but the room was still silent. No one said a word. It didn’t matter what I wanted to hear anymore.

I was beyond that. I rolled another joint mechanically, my hands shaking slightly as I lit it. I took a long drag, hoping the smoke would settle my mind, calm the storm brewing inside me.

But as I exhaled, the tears came. They burned my eyes, dripping down my face, and I couldn’t stop them.

Everything I was trying to hide, everything I was running from... it all hit me at once. I coughed violently, the smoke doing nothing but amplifying the hurt.

And in that moment, I didn’t care if they saw me fall apart. I didn’t care about the pride anymore. I just needed to feel something—anything—other than this numb emptiness.

The silence in the room pressed against me, heavy and thick, but Choso's voice broke through, asking the question I couldn't answer. "So why didn’t you talk to us, bro?"

I didn’t respond at first. I just kept smoking, my hands trembling as I fought to keep the tears at bay. Every breath felt heavier than the last, and the weight of my past—my mistakes, my pain—was suffocating. I wiped my face, ignoring his question, not because I didn’t want to answer, but because I didn’t know how to put into words everything that had broken me.

I couldn’t look at any of them. Not yet. I took another drag from the joint, my throat raw from the coughing. It felt like I was trying to choke down my own thoughts, but they kept coming, too fast and too violent. The truth was leaking out whether I wanted it to or not.

"You guys wanna know why my parents left?" I said finally, my voice cracking as I forced myself to speak through the weight of it all. "It was because of me. They said it every time they called.

Every damn time. I overheard Grandpa arguing with them on the phone, saying that boy, our oldest, has a problem. We shouldn't have had him. I heard every word. Felt every blow my dad would hit me with when I was around."

I stood there for a moment, the pain swirling inside me, clawing at my chest, making it hard to breathe. "I raised my voice, but they fucked up their lives, and I’m the one to blame. Me."

The words left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, the guilt sinking deeper into my bones. I laughed, but it was hollow, bitter. "I don’t know why it wasn’t me instead of Jin that night. Why he had to go? Why I wasn’t the one to die."

The weight of it all crushed me again, and this time, I let the tears fall. There was no stopping them.

I could feel the air in the room shift, the weight of silence pressing down on me as I spoke. My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “You guys don’t think I know Yuuji’s failing at school now? That I don’t see it? I know I’m the reason.”

I looked between Choso and Toji, my hands trembling slightly. “You think, ‘cause I’m a fucking addict, I don’t care? That it doesn’t eat me alive every single day?” My laugh was bitter, sharp, the kind that left a bad taste in your mouth. “But that’s exactly why, when I came out, I never offered to take him back. I knew I couldn’t. He needs more than I can give him. Hell, so do you, Choso.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I didn’t want to hear their voices, whether it was pity, anger, or anything in between.

I couldn’t stomach it. The tightness in my chest grew unbearable as I turned and walked away, leaving them behind in the living room.

I made it to my room, the walls closing in on me like they always did. My hands fumbled with the drawer, pulling out an envelope that had haunted me for months.

The edges were worn from how many times I’d held it, opened it, thought about what to do with it.

When I walked back out, Choso was still standing there, his face unreadable. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I thrust the envelope into his hand, my fingers lingering for a moment before I let go.

“That’s money Grandpa left for us,” I said, my voice rough and uneven. “It’s everything he saved. I want you and Yuuji to have it. There’s more in the bank. Everything’s under our names—yours and mine. There’s a letter in there too.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the next words out. “You can take it to the lawyer and remove my name if you want. It’s yours now. For you and Yuuji. It’s more than enough to take care of both of you.”

I glanced at the floor, my fists clenching as I tried to keep my voice steady. “And when I’m gone... make sure you take care of the house. It meant a lot to Grandpa. It’s all we have left of him.”

The weight of the envelope in Choso’s hand felt heavier than anything I’d ever carried. I couldn’t bear to look at him, to see the hurt or confusion—or worse, the anger—I knew was written all over his face. My chest tightened, every breath like dragging in broken glass.

The silence between us stretched, thick and unbearable. My legs felt like they might give out, but I stayed standing, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Choso shoved it back at me, I stared down at the envelope in my hand, his voice tight, frustration and hurt bleeding into every word. “What do you mean, when you’re gone, Sukuna?”

I forced a smile, the corner of my mouth twitching upward, but it wasn’t warm—it was hollow, empty. “You think with the way I’ve been living, I’m gonna last long, bro?” My voice was steady, but it carried the kind of resignation that made the room colder. I gestured to myself, letting my arms fall limply at my sides. “Look at me. Really look. I’ve been on borrowed time for years.”

His jaw tightened, and his hand came up again, shoving the envelope into my chest like he was trying to push the thought of losing me out of his head. “That’s enough,”

he snapped, his voice wavering with emotion. “I don’t wanna hear it. You’re not leaving, man. We need you. I need you... Yuuji...” His voice broke for a moment, and he shook his head before continuing. “He’s not coping well. You know he was always attached to you more than anyone.”

The mention of Yuuji made something twist painfully in my chest. I let out a bitter laugh, the sound catching in my throat as I dropped my gaze to the floor. “Yeah... he’s way too much like Jin in that way.”

My voice softened, the words almost choking me. “Jin was the one who always tried to keep me in line, always tried to make sure I didn’t fall off the edge.”

I swallowed hard, the knot of guilt tightening in my throat. “And Yuuji... he’s the same. Always reaching out, always needing me.”

I clenched my jaw, my hands trembling as I stared at the ground. “And it kills me because I can’t be what he needs. I couldn’t be what Jin needed. I’m just... not enough.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, as I tried to steady my breathing. My mind replayed memories of Jin, of Yuuji, of all the times they looked at me like I was someone worth saving. And every time, I’d let them down.

Choso’s face went pale, his eyes widening as my words sank in. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him. The room felt like it was tilting, the walls closing in, my body betraying me with every passing second.

“Call an ambulance,” I whispered, my voice so faint I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me.

My chest felt tight, like the air was being pulled from my lungs. I could feel everything slipping away—the rush of the drugs taking me too far this time, dragging me into a place I couldn’t claw my way out of.

My knees buckled, and before I could catch myself, my body crumpled to the floor.

My limbs felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive, as I tried to move. The cold tiles beneath me bit into my skin, but even that sensation began to fade.

As I stared up at the dim ceiling, my thoughts blurred together in a chaotic mess.

How did no one notice? How was I slipping away right in front of them, and yet, no one saw the signs?

The edges of my vision darkened, and Choso’s panicked face swam in and out of focus above me. His voice was frantic, calling my name, shouting for help, but it was like I was underwater. The sound came to me in distorted waves, too muffled to grasp.

My body felt distant, like it wasn’t mine anymore. The pounding of my heart slowed, each beat echoing in my ears until it became an irregular, fading rhythm.

I wanted to say something, to tell Choso I was sorry, to tell him not to blame himself, but the words wouldn’t come.

And then, there was silence.

Not the kind that brings peace, but the kind that swallows you whole.

The world around me vanished, and all I could feel was the weight of regret pulling me under.

Author's note: Part one is finally over... if yall wanna be tagged in part two when it drops let me know. Drop a comment... Part 2 maybe lighter....or not lol

Snippet from

Chapter 1 Part 2:

At some point, I saw Gojo’s eyes tear up. It wasn’t something you ever expected to see from him, but even he couldn’t hide it. He didn’t say a word, just let the pages fall from his hands and walked away, the weight of the journals in his expression.

We were all broken in different ways, trying to hold on to something. To a person. To an idea of who Sukuna was, or who we wanted him to be. But in the end, all we had was the reality of what we found.

#jjk x black reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna angst #sukuna x female reader #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #black tumblr #black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sherewrytes #jjk sukuna #sukuna

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