toxic!connie x blackfem!reader
a/n: now i don't cosign toxic relationships but i had this idea and had to write it down🤭
cw: pnv, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of infidelity, yeah connie is a piece of shit, connie calls reader; 'ma', 'mami', 'baby', 'hermosa('gorgeous'), 'sabes que sólo te quiero, ma' ('you know i only want you, ma'), 'eres mi vida' ('you are my life'), 'dime que me amas, ma' ('tell me you love me, ma'), n word usage, gaslighting lowkey
wc: 2921
seeing as you had blocked him halfway through his trip, connie had low expectations when he came back from miami. however, his expectations had never lowered enough for him to be, even slightly, prepared to come back to a near enough empty apartment. especially not after you had spent the two weeks before he left, and the first few days he was gone, complaining about his absence. for the first two days he was out there, you were constantly calling and texting telling him how much you missed him and how empty your shared apartment felt without him there. then, on day three, you went silent. now stood looking at the half-empty coat rack, connie assumed that whatever drove you to that, had happened while he was still on his trip with his friends. and hopes that you had just gone to stay with a friend for a while were quashed when he realised that every single trace of you was gone; your walk-in wardrobe was empty, your vanity was empty, all your hair and skin products were no longer in the bathroom. this wasn’t some petty shit, you had left him.
”the fuck?”, he asked himself as he grabbed his car keys.
he went to every one of your friends’ addresses that he could remember, but they either wouldn’t open the door or, if they did, they claimed to have no idea where you were. he assumed that the ones who wouldn’t speak to him knew where you were. and, by now, he felt like he did too. so he went to the only other place you could be.
and, by happenstance, when he arrived at your family home you were helping carry the groceries into the house. you heard connie’s car before you saw it, giving you enough time to rush everyone inside and lock your car. unfortunately, connie caught onto what you were doing quite quickly so by the time you went to rush yourself inside, he was right outside the front door and he managed to pull you out by your arm. you’d try to move out of his grasp, but it just got tighter before he spun you around to look at him. and, once you saw how he had gotten more tanned, you actually got pissed off at just how fine he looked.
”what's up with you?”, he asked, hand still wrapped around your arm. but he would receive no response, so his free hand would move to your cheeks, squeezing them to open your mouth.
”i know this works, so use it”, he shook your face lightly, and a disgruntled huff would leave your mouth before you were removing his hand from your face.
”what d'you want, constance?”, an irritated hand moved to peel the one around your arm off, as your feet moved you a few steps back from him. but connie would just move with you.
”you know what i want. and don't call me that, you know i don’t like it”, he poked your side, and you kissed your teeth as you swatted his hand away. the severity of the situation still hadn’t clicked in connie’s mind, so he was just trying to find humour in how hard you were trying to avoid him. that obviously made you more pissed.
”you think i care about what you do, or don't, like after you was letting bitches shake ass on you in miami?”, you had seen video evidence of your man’s hoe activities, but he didn’t know that yet. so he’d just feign ignorance, and scrunch his eyebrows at you in ‘confusion’.
”the fuck are you talking about?”, he asked, grabbing at your hands when you tried to wave him off.
”don't play dumb, nigga, you know what I'm talking about.”, you’d remove your hands from connie’s to show him the screen recording of ony’s story that ymir had sent to you. but, even when presented with the video of eren holding connie up as he leaned back catching ass, he’d refuse to take accountability for his actions.
and what had started off as a somewhat civil conversation had raised in volume, mainly due to your boyfriend’s brazen attitude. your fervent discussion had caught the attention of your family members who just sat at the window watching you two argue. as well as that of a neighbour who you hadn’t even acknowledged. as pissed as you were, you weren’t having this conversation within the vicinity of prying ears. so connie would suggest continuing it in his car. and you should’ve known better than to agree because, as soon as you were both in the vehicle, he’d start it and drive off.
”connie, the fuck are you doing?”, you looked at him, nudging him slightly. but his eyes would be on the road as he brushed you off.
”i’m sick of this shit, we’re going home”, he spoke, turning up the music that was playing in an attempt to drown out your impending complaints. as if you couldn’t just turn it back down, and continue what you were saying??
”i’m not going nowhere with you, dickhead, take me back home”, you retorted, but connie just rolled his eyes.
”you’re really doin’ all this ‘cause of an ig story?”, he asked, finally looking at you.
”nigga, she was twerking on you!!”, your voice raised at him.
”y/n, i was just chillin’ and she came up to me and started dancing on me. that weren't even the full video, because if you saw the full video, you'd see that i moved her away and told her i had a girl at home. now, imagine my surprise when i come back and my home is empty”, all you could do is laugh at his excuse, because if you didn’t do that, you’d cry in frustration.
”connie, turn this car around”, the car had moved closer to the sidewalk as you approached a red light, so you’d try to open the door again. obviously it was still locked, but you were trying anything to get away from this man.
”this can’t be it, ma. you can’t be ending things because of some bitch in miami. not after all we've been through together.”, connie held your hand, his eyes locking with yours to earnestly plead with you, ”don’t let her just ruin what we have.”,
”are you okay?! you ruined what we have”, the hand connie wasn’t holding raised a pointed finger to lightly push at his temple, and exasperated air blew out of his mouth as he let your hand go and resumed driving.
”and now imma fix it”, he assured in annoyance.
once you arrived at your apartment car park, connie opened your door to allow you to, reluctantly, step out—ultimately choosing to just stand by the car with your arms crossed, mean mugging him. and, not knowing when to give up, connie pulled at one of your arms in an attempt to uncross them. and when all of it was to no avail, connie’d resort to old tactics; talking.
“y/n, you know how i feel about you. you think i'd throw that all away over some plastic booty in miami?”, the tips of your shoes would be touching when connie reached his arm around your body to grab at your ass—squeezing it for a second before pulling you into himself, “when i knew i had all this to come back to?”, he spoke lowly. a few drops of arousal dampened your underwear at the tone of his voice, his tan, and the sun-induced freckles on his face. but, no matter how long it had been, you had to pick up your dignity and move from him.
”get the fuck off me, constance”, you ordered, curtly, and connie acquiesced. though that didn’t mean he’d give up.
”c’mon, ma. let’s just go inside and talk about this”, he nodded towards the door of your apartment building. you knew what’d happen. it was the same thing that happened every time you guys argued, but you’d still begrudgingly let him walk you to your shared apartment.
and, as expected, no conversation was had. because, a gentlemanly façade would lead you through the door first and, as soon as your shoes were off, your feet were in the air as connie threw you over his shoulder. as soon as you realised your destination was your bedroom, you’d do nothing. of course he had pissed you off, but you hadn’t seen him in a week and you had missed him. none of your stuff was in the apartment, meaning you still had the upper hand. in some weird way. you would leave him…right after he took your clothes off, and greeted your aching clit with the cold metal of his tongue piercing. it became hard to believe that, not even an hour ago, your blood had been boiling—anger circulating your body with every heated beat of your heart. because that beating of your heart had migrated to the space between your legs, and its rhythm was in the process of being quelled by the plump lips holding your aching bud captive between themselves, as they sloppily sucked on it. a repetition of small moans from connie’s mouth formed hands that would incessantly pull at the tight knot forming in your stomach. those hands would be strengthened the moment the ball of metal began an uninterrupted course of small movements in between your wet folds. and the hands stroking over connie’s buzzcut would move to push his forehead backwards in an attempt to keep him dry,
”m-mess, connie, m-move”, was all you could get out in, what was meant to be, a warning. and connie would move your hand. both of his were on your thighs, pushing them apart as they began trembling. being the piece of shit he is, connie would move backwards and a cocky smile would grace his face at your loud, whiny complaints; an uproar that travelled throughout your whole body, as he heard faint sounds of cracking because of how hard your feet were curling. that’d be the encouragement directing him to continue his task. and, had he heeded your warning, his face and shirt wouldn’t have been covered in your release.
never one to be greedy, connie would have you taste yourself when your lips and tongues would meet in a sloppy kiss that you wished didn’t make you want him more than you ever had. the duration of this trip had been the longest you and connie had ever been separated, and you could feel it in the way your body reacted to his dick poking into you. the dignity you thought you had picked up from the floor had only elevated to sink six feet under the second your hands lifted to interlink at his nape, pulling him closer into you.
time and time again, your friends had warned you of the foolish antics of dominican men, but you never listened. connie was always so good to you, you never thought your heart would sit uneasily in your stomach as a consequence of his actions. but you were never mad at connie for too long. because no arguments could be made when coherence was being fucked out of your brain as your leg lay over his shoulder, and his lips were whispering promises into your ear during the intervals where they weren’t kissing the shell of it. soon, your frontal lobe would lose all functionality and you could barely remember why you were mad at a man with dick this good in the first place.
”sabes que sólo te quiero, ma”, wet words hit your nipple as his lips wrapped around it , ”eres mi vida, how could i want anyone else?”, and had you been able to form a rebuttal, it would’ve not been strong enough to overpower the moans leaving your parted lips.
”hm? i missed this pussy so bad, and when i come back you ain’t even here. imagine how that made me feel, hermosa”, connie momentarily pulled away from your nipple to stick his spit covered bottom lip out in a fake pout,
”you sorry?”, he asked, eyebrows solemnly meeting in the middle. and, still unable to get out a single word, you’d just nod. half of connie’s forgiveness would wrap around your nipple again, and the other half would work on raising the volume of your cries with the way it bullied that spongy spot inside of you.
”dime que me amas, ma”, he spoke around your nipple, and the little spanish you remembered would serve you well, and you’d tell yourself there was no way you were about to give him that after how he did you on that trip.
”ff-fuck y-you”, you stuttered out and, if you still had control over your limbs, your hand would’ve risen to point a middle finger in his face. but instead, it was connie’s hand that would move. rising to wrap around your neck—thumb and middle finger pushing lightly on either side of it, as his hips hastened. connie’s thrusts were only harsher because nothing would elate him more than you moaning out your affections for him as you came around him.
”that’s not what i asked you, hermosa.”, he tsked, eyes lidded as he looked down at you, ”now do i gotta ask you again, or you gonna use that pretty little brain of yours?”, concession was unfavourable, but he was making you feel so good that you would’ve done anything he asked of you.
”i-i lovee you, c-connie”, you whined out, nails digging into his arm. although you hadn’t nutted while saying those words to him, connie was still content at hearing them. so he’d hum back at you, before his verbal response resounded on the skin he was, once again, kissing on your chest.
”and i love you too, mami. let’s not fight anymore, hm?”, another pout would be pressed against your skin, meaning connie wouldn’t even see your aggressive nod in agreement.
all the suppressed feelings from the argument you guys had came back to surface quite quickly. connie wasn’t aggressive with you, his strokes were fast but deep and that was because he had missed you, and he just lost himself in it. and you could see it in his screwed eyebrows, and the group of sweat beads that had congregated on his forehead, keen to get a view of the fucked out woman underneath them.
”whose dick is this?”, connie spoke. and as if he knew you could barely hear anything at this point, he’d repeat himself when he got no reply, ”i asked you, whose dick this was”,
”m-mine. it’s m-mine”, you stammered out, hands hitting at his bare skin hovering above yours.
”so stop fucking playing wit’ me.” , his heart might’ve wanted you to hear those words, but his teeth fought to keep them in his mouth; those words were low, and barely enunciated. but their gravity was felt in the part of his dick pushing into your cervix. as well as in his following words,
”tell me you’ll stop”, and, feeling you start to get tighter around him, connie’s movements would slow when he knew you needed them at their fastest. the eyes that had been risking getting stuck in the back of their sockets would focus on his face again. it was blank; he needed that affirmation, and you’d gladly give it to him.
”finefinefine, i’ll stop. just lemme cum, connie, please lemme cum, p-please”, connie knew damn well that you’d probably have this conversation again, but hearing you beg under him while promising to trust him made his dick move inside you again.
”you’re always so good f’r me, baby”, he caressed your face, smiling warmly at you, ”you know you ain’t gotta ask, ma. this your dick, nut on it if you wanna”, so you would. it’d take two more thrusts for your walls to contract around his throbbing length.
”con-nie, i’m cummm—shittt”, your words could barely connect, but you just needed him to know how good he was making you feel. even though words weren’t needed when he could feel you around his dick, making it harder for him to maintain composure and keep moving inside you. and connie would try to keep it together, but he’d been thinking about nutting in you again for days now, so he stopped fighting the stuttering of his hips, and let them just do whatever when they decided to stop. their stagnancy would be followed by a warmth spreading inside you, and leaking to drip down you onto the bed sheets underneath you. and those sheets would be uncomfortably wet by the time you two finished. so you’d end up changing them together before he drove you to your family home to collect all your stuff and carry on as you always were.
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