hey boo🥰I RLLY LIKE YOUR WRITING so i wanted to request if you can do ony x reader BUT LIKE hear me hear me, dedicated to the song 2 rounds by Zae France. TRUST ME JUST GO LISTEN😉
heyy TYSMM🤭 this song was good asf so ty for requesting this luv! sorry for the long wait but i hope i was able to give you a good scenario💆🏽♀️
SAME SHIT [Onyankopon]
minors do not interact
soleil is now playing: 2 rounds [zae france]
you and Onyankopon have been dating for over 2 years, but one thing he would never get used to was your attitude. you liked to run your mouth a lot, and he loved and hated it in equal measure. you always fought and bickered, but he was always quick to shut you up, which you absolutely disliked.
the tension in the air wasn’t just about the sharpness of your words this time…it was about the night out you’d just come back from. Ony had been mad as fuck ever since you stepped through the door, and now, the dam had finally broken.
you stood in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter while you sipped on a glass of wine. Onyankopon watched you from across the room, the soft, amber lighting casting shadows that made his features look almost predatory.
"why the hell are you looking at me like that? i still don’t get why you’re so pissed." you asked, raising an eyebrow. your tone had that familiar edge—challenging, teasing. "you know why i'm pissed." he answered, his voice calm, though you could hear that sharp undertone in his tone, indicating that despite his composure, he was far from calm.
he stepped closer, his broad frame crowding yours, and you could feel the weight of his stare. “i didnt even do anything while i was out.” you said, shrugging as you took another sip of wine.
“nah, you knew exactly what you were doing y/n,” Ony said, his voice low but laced with frustration. “dressed like that, dancing like that, you didn’t even fucking text me once to let me know where you were.”
you rolled your eyes, though the way his eyes raked over you, even now, didn’t go unnoticed. “i told you i was going out with the girls, Ony. what, i’m not allowed to have fun without you now?” he stepped closer once again, his body now mere inches from yours. he reached up, grabbing your chin between his rough fingers, forcing your gaze up to meet his. his touch was firm, possessive. A warning.
"that's not what 'm sayin," he retorted, “you are allowed to have fun without me, ma, I don’t have a problem with that” he muttered. “but I have a problem with how you were dressed.” he spoke firmly.
you crossed your arms, refusing to let him intimidate you. “nigga, i didn’t dress up for them. i dressed up for me. and if they were looking, that’s not my fuckin’ problem.” Onyankopon let out a short, frustrated laugh, the kind that told you he was on the verge of snapping. his fingers brushed along your jaw, deceptively gentle. "that mouth of yours," he said, almost to himself. "always pushing me."
Ony exhaled sharply, his hand running over his jaw as he tried to rein in his temper. “and what about me, huh? you think I like knowing every nigga in that club was wishing they could touch what’s mine?” your stomach flipped at the possessiveness in his voice, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily. “yours? Ony, you don’t own me,” you shot back, your voice rising. “im not some trophy for you to keep locked away. if you’re so pressed about it, maybe you should’ve come with me.”
he didn’t like that response. not one bit. not only because you had the audacity to talk to him like that, but even more so because you had a point. the words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.
“you know damn well it’s not about control. it’s about respect. shit, if the roles were reversed, you’d have burned the whole damn place down.” your lips parted, ready to fire back, but the truth in his words caught you off guard. you hated how right he was—and how much that flicker of guilt made you want to double down instead of apologizing. he knew you better than anyone, better than you knew yourself. he knew your petty ass would rather bite your tongue off than admit that he had a point.
"don't bother," he said, his tone soft, yet firm. "i know you, y/n. i know you'd rather be stubborn than admit you're wrong."
“so what, Ony?” you whispered, your voice softer now but no less defiant. “like, are you mad because i went out, or are you mad because you didn’t come first tonight?”
“don’t play with me,” he growled, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. your heart pounded, your resolve faltering under the weight of his intensity. still, you couldn’t help the sly smile that tugged at your lips.
“oh, i’m soo scared.”
✮
“i told you stop talkin’ to me crazy y/n.” Ony said, wrapping a hand around your throat to give you slow, deep strokes.
“mmphm- Ony!” you said, eyes shut tightly as he smacked your ass. each stroke knocked the air from your lungs, leaving you breathless and light-headed. you wanted to say something smart back, but his hand around your throat silenced you, leaving you a mess. your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his fat tip pushing against your gummy walls, your cunt creating a sticky mess.
“you gonna tell me how sorry you are or nah?” Onyankopon said, grunting as he felt your pussy clench and gush around him.
you whined, shaking your head in defiance. he chuckled, speeding up the pace of his hips so he could fuck you harder. he was fucking fed up with your attitude, but it was his fault for being so lenient. he loved you so fucking much, but sometimes you just needed to remember to be respectful.. and if not, he wouldn’t hesitate to fuck you on every surface till you’re crying out apologies.
he leaned in, pulling your head back by your hair until his face was inches from yours, “i shoulda grabbed your ass as soon as you walked in here and fucked the shit outta you. isn’t that what you wanted? hm? you do all this shit on purpose, don't you? like it when i get mad."
“mmm-no..” you mumbled, even as you pushed back against his hips, trying to get him deeper. you wanted him to make you admit that you were wrong, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “you knoww i don’t.” it was a weak attempt at defiance, and you both knew it. he was right. you were a brat who liked pushing his buttons, just as much as you loved the way he put you in your place.
he chuckled, yanking your head back again so he could really fuck you rougher now. “hngh- shit! y-you’re so fucking deep..” you whined, voice trailing off into a whimper as he hit that spot that made your toes curl.
“shit.. you always wanna test my fuckin’ patience y/n. you’re a whiny ass brat, but trust me, ima give your ass sumn to whine about.” whenever Ony said something, he meant it. your mouth fell open, your body succumbing to the pleasure as he pounded into you. you got what you wanted.
his hand pressed against your lips, stopping whatever you were about to say, and you knew you had finally pushed him to his breaking point. “you said you wanted to act up, right?” his voice was low, dangerous, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “so be quiet and take it.”
he pushed deeper, hitting that spot again and making you whine and gush around him. “you love when i’m mad at you.. dirty fuckin’ slut.” he muttered, his voice low against your ear. you whined helplessly, nodding as he trapped you against the counter so he could see you fall apart. his hips snapped into yours, setting a rough, unrelenting pace.
“that’s what you wanted isn’t it, mama?” Ony teased, his pace never slowing, never faltering. “for me to shut you up, huh?” he gripped your chin to look at him. “answer me.” his lips and teeth traced along the side of your neck as he spoke, leaving a trail of hot kisses against your skin.
“fuckk- yea.. i wanted it.” you mewled, barely able to even breathe properly with the way he was fucking you. "jus’ be a good girl for me," he whispered against your ear, " tell me that you’re sorry, baby." your head was spinning; it was so difficult to even think of words, let alone form a coherent sentence. you felt him stretching you open so good, filling you up so good.
“fuck, fuck, please, m’sorry!” you mewled, mascara running down your wet eyes. you struggled to keep up with his pace, your ass bouncing back against his hips as he pushed you into a deeper arch.
“oh fuck- babyy, p-please.” you whined, the nasty squelching of your pussy around his dick making you feel warm and tingly all over, the pressure building up in your stomach.
his pace slowed enough for him to tease you. “oh you want somethin’?” his voice was dripping with faux sweetness. “you want me to give you somethin’?”
you couldn’t even respond, only able to cry out and nod your head. you just wanted to cum. but you knew he wouldn’t let you until he was satisfied with your apology. “hngh…papa, i-i’m sorryy, so so s-sorry!” you gasped out, your words choked off by the hand around your throat. "i shouldn't have-“ your words were cut off by a moan that slipped from your lips as he rolled his hips, striking a spot deep inside you.
"i-i shouldn’t have talked to you l-like that." you whimpered. you wanted to argue with him more, to say no, to tell him he was wrong, but you couldn’t.. you loved pissing him off. you loved teasing him, working him up till his patience ran out.
“nah, nah, nah,” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, slowing his pace even more. “say it again, louder.” he commanded, slapping your ass harshly, the sting sending a shiver down your spine, your brain fuzzy with need.
“i-i’m so s-sorryy, won’t do it again!” you yelped, trying to run from him while you felt his dick poke at your cervix. he hissed in your ear, feeling your walls flutter around him. breath hot against your skin as he groaned, “see, mama, thats all you had to say. was that so hard?” he teased, his pace picking up again, harder, faster, as he slammed into you. “fuck, fuck.. feels soooo good.” you whimpered, head empty as he fucked this shit out of you.
“that’s it, baby…fuck. just like that, lemme hear you.” Onyankopon grunted, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. you were so wet, pussy milking him for all he had. he never got tired of how you felt around him. “mhhmm… that’s my good girl.”









