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captainpoopweinersoldier · 2 years

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Rainy Day Fund - Connie Nikas x Reader

Summary: Connie is your ex boyfriend and decides to pay you a visit after a months' long estrangement.

Rating: Explicit; 18+ Only

Word count: 5.3K

Warnings: Rough sex, spanking, spitting, dirty talk

Link to AO3

Tags: Special thanks to @ursulaismymiddlename for cheering me on, and giving me the sweetest blow by blow messages of encouragement! @salt-is-a-terrible-currency

The bell tolled the entry of a new customer and you groaned inwardly, sulking as the slosh from the footprints joined the ever growing murky puddle at the door. Rainy days rarely brought much traffic to the laundromat; it seemed futile to go through the hassle of washing clothes only to schlep them through rain on the walk home after. But at this rate, you would definitely be stuck way past closing, mopping until your back ached.

You carried on helping Miss Wilson, an adorable elderly woman who toted in every Tuesday with her and her husband’s dirty laundry stuffed in a rickety rolling cart, rain or shine, evidently. She was wearing a bonnet today, protecting her curls from the downpour outside and the encased heat of appliances inside. While she handled her undergarments in the sink nearby, you folded one dry load of clothes, squatting to toss in another just as the bell tolled again.

“Lord ain’t granting you no favors today,” Miss Wilson remarked, and though she was right, you couldn’t help but laugh at her tone. The petite thing had a way with words, keeping you amused enough to make the day go by easier.

But over all the noise, you hadn’t even heard the alleged customer approach and suddenly there were long legs in baggy jeans next to you. You glanced up at the intrusion, only for your smile to abruptly disappear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Connie said, forearms perched on a washing machine. An unkempt goatee overpowered half his face, but it was him alright. Oversized sweatshirt making him seem bigger than the last time you saw him, hood pulled up and nearly soaked through.

“The fuck are you doing here, Connie,” you snapped, too cranky to watch your cussing in front of the elder down the aisle. “What do you want?”

“Jesus Christ, s’gonna be like that?” He tried looking innocent, but his shit-eating grin was wide as ever. “Not a hello? I haven’t seen you in months, don’t you wanna know how I am?”

You rolled your eyes, tossing the rest of the load in a tad overzealous before rising to stand, hands on your hips, even if acting tough was a lost cause when your ex-boyfriend had about a foot on you.

“You mean when I’m at my job workin’ all day, am I sitting here thinkin’ to myself ‘oh I wonder what poor schmuck Connie Nikas is bothering today’, like that?” Your patience was wearing thin, made worse as he swayed back to chuckle, shaking his head. “No, I fuckin’ don’t.”

“Oh, c’mon…” he drawled, moving in close to touch your elbow. “Don’t be like that.”

Miss Wilson tutted, casting a pointed glare through her glasses, lips pursed. “That white boy stinks’a trouble.”

“That’s because he is trouble, Miss Wilson,” you agreed with a smack to his hand.

Connie gaped, brows furrowing together in offense. “Trouble - I'm not - you goin’ around telling little old ladies I’m trouble?”

You scoffed and brushed past him, muttering to Miss Wilson you’d be right back as Connie carried on, whining as he trailed behind to the small office in the back of the mat. If he was going to make a scene, the least you could do was keep it away from the customers.

“Connie.” You grabbed him by the shoulders once the door slammed shut, giving a frustrated shake to snap him out of his ranting. Having your full attention directed at him, he finally quieted. Dared to look bashful as he slid back his hood, spilling out a mop of dark hair and the familiar scent of his shampoo. The corners of his lips pulled into a soft smile and you had to mentally scold yourself for thinking it was pretty.

Generally, you considered Connie a barely amicable ex; splitting up over two years ago wasn’t enough to keep him from popping by every few months. And while he could be fun to be around, it usually ended with giving him money. Or sex. Just like certain drugs, he was grimy and addictive, and somehow consistently overcompensated that with intelligent charm. Today, however, you were not in the mood to be compromised.

“What do you want?” you asked again, slowly.

“I wanted to see you,” he insisted, but his voice dropped an octave or two deeper in a tone that kept you skeptical. “Shit, I cabbed halfway across town to get here, s’that such a crime?”

He could be cute when he wanted to, and it was a fight to keep your face passive. “Depends on whether I believe you or not.”

Connie groaned your name, eyes clenched shut as if experiencing pain. You couldn’t help but let a laugh slip out as he lurched forward, forehead on your shoulder while his hands encircled your waist.

“You’re killin’ me…” He picked his head up only to set it on yours, grey eyes in complete focus. You should’ve pulled away, but you couldn’t. “I was feeling fuckin’ lonely. It’s miserable out there, I thought ‘let’s go see her, let’s see that pretty face’.”

“Oh, that’s real fuckin’ rich.” Only then could you attempt stepping back, but he merely pulled you closer, flush against his chest.

“Stop,” Connie pressed. “C’mon, I know you miss me sometimes, huh?” He nuzzled the tip of your nose with his and the struggle not to smile was even harder. “C’mon, say it.” A small shake of your head. “No? Not even a little? Bull shit.”

He leaned in for a kiss and you tipped your head back out of his reach, no longer able to hide the smile. You batted your eyelashes at him and he suddenly grabbed the back of your neck to keep you still. “Such a dirty fuckin’ liar,” he rasped, and his mouth was on yours.

The beard was new, but he kissed just like you remembered. All sharp teeth, tugging for entry, tongue hot, slipping between your lips. He tasted of coffee and cigarettes, with a hint of whatever toothpaste he used that morning. You let a whimper escape, reaching to run your fingers through his damp hair, and he quickly moved to grab your ass with both hands. Pulled you snug against him to feel the crotch of his pants.

You forcibly shoved at his chest, tearing yourself from him before that escalated any further.

“Alright,” you winced, then pointedly glared at Connie. “You need to leave.”

A pout puckered his lips but there was nothing but smugness in his eyes as he rose to his full height. You rushed to yank the door back open just to be distracted.

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” he relented, practically sauntering past you out of the office. But he sent one last look over his shoulder, winking as he pulled his hood back up. “Only ‘cause I’ll be seein’ you later.”

Night fell, the shift ended, and you spent about an hour mopping the floors before locking up for the day. After leaving the mat, you simply had to make the first left around the building and into the partly lit alleyway where there was a lone metal door that opened to a one-story walk up to your apartment upstairs.

You believed him, of course. You just didn’t realize how soon that would be.

The stairway was suspiciously quiet; typically by this time Baba would be scratching at the door to the sounds of your footsteps, eagerly waiting for her nighttime walk.

You called for her as you opened the door with your keys, not realizing it was already unlocked. A single bark from the living room was the dog’s answer and you turned the corner, stopping in your tracks at the sight that welcomed you.

Connie was sprawled on your couch watching TV, barely even acknowledged your presence with Baba the Pitbull curled comfortably into his side.

The day you’d had left you with no strength to throw a fit. It was your fault for continually forgetting he still had a key to the apartment. Instead you dropped your things in the small vestibule, grateful he’d at least taken off his dirty shoes and wet hoodie. He remained unperturbed in his jeans and a white t-shirt.

“You take her out at least?”

He nodded, raising the remote to flick the channel. “Wasn’t a fan a’the rain, but she took a piss.”

“Thanks, but you can’t stay, y’know.” You went into the kitchen and flicked the lights on, opening up the fridge and cabinets to get a meal started. “Believe it or not I’m seeing someone… Got off work a little bit ago, he’ll be here any minute.”

“Who you seein’?” he called from across the room.

“No one you know,” you assured him. Jay was as opposite of Connie as one could get, purposefully so. He was shorter and stockier and worked a steady job in IT.

“You kiss other guys like that when you were seein’ me?”

The affront had resided in your mind all damn day. It still wasn’t beyond you that he probably had an ulterior motive that didn’t involve what was in his pants. And maybe it was too easy to give in to him anyway, but the fleeting moment felt good, you couldn’t lie about that. Connie simply knew just how to get under your skin, and at times it was easier to cope with than others. Now happened to be one of them.

Amused, you eyed him over the counter only to catch him getting up to come and join you in the kitchen. Jay also wasn’t the jealous type, unlike Connie, who valued loyalty to him likely more than anyone you’d ever met.

“And deal with the headache of you finding out? I don’t think so.”

He seemed satisfied by that, and started futzing around the kitchen, stalking behind you in each direction you moved to make it impossible to ignore him.

“Tell him to fuck off,” he eventually said, a gentle directive.

“You fuck off,” you shot back, bent over to withdraw a big pot for the stove to whip up some pasta. “I appreciate you takin’ care of Baba, but I’ve had a long day, I’ve got dinner to cook, I’ve got comp-”

“I’ll cook you dinner,” Connie interrupted, his body hovering beside you, a warm palm on the small of your back.

“You’re gonna cook me dinner,” more a bold statement than a question as you cocked a brow at him, staring in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’ll cook you dinner.”

“Are you high?” You stood on the tips of your toes to inspect his eyes under the light. There was not a single instance in the time you’d known him that you could recall him ever cooking.

“Nah, you know that shit doesn’t work on me.” His expression was oddly earnest as he reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “C’mon, let me cook for you.”

This line of doting was about as new as the beard on his face. You eyed him warily; if you hadn’t known him better, you would’ve thought he was being… Sweet?

But the thought was cut short as there was a resounding rapping on the door. You cursed out loud, and Baba shot up from her spot on the couch, woofing at the intruder.

“I told you!” you hissed, putting space back between you. “The hell am I supposed to do now?”

Connie shook his head like he’d already given the obvious answer, whispering back - “Tell him to fuck off!”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“I’ll fuckin’ tell him.”

“You absolutely will not.”

He rolled his eyes and the knocking started up again. You smacked his stomach and he threw his hands in the air. “Tell him you’re sick.”

“Seriously?”

“Tell him you’re sick right now or I’ll open the door and tell him my goddamn self.”

The directive wasn’t so gentle this time, and it tickled some crevice of nostalgia in your brain, and you knew then that you’d do exactly what he said. You still groaned nonetheless, running your hands over your face.

“Why do I always listen to you?” You whisper-yelled, narrowing your eyes when Connie dared to offer a wolfish grin. “Don’t you fuckin’ answer that.”

Another knock made you jump as you approached the door and gave yourself a shake, doing a quick rehearsal of what you’d say. One benefit of working in a laundromat all day and not showering immediately after meant you probably looked worse for wear anyway.

You nearly opened the door when you realized Connie was following close behind. More whisper-yelling ensued and you shoved him around the corner, glaring when he leaned back on the wall with clear intent to eavesdrop.

“Hey, sweetie, sorry,” you cooed when you finally cracked the door ajar. If you let it swing open, Jay would probably swoop right in. He looked so cute standing there in his work polo, much too tight for his college football stacked body. He carried a bag of takeout in hand, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and you started to feel the slightest bit guilty. “Sorry for making you wait.”

“Everything okay?” Jay asked in a deep baritone voice, appearing genuinely concerned. Even tried peering inside over your head.

“Yeah - well, uh - no, not really. I’m not feeling so great.”

“For real?” He pulled out his phone to check for any messages. “You should’a texted me. I would’ve brought soup instead of Five Guys.” Beside the door, Connie perked up at that.

“Aw, babe, that’s too sweet,” you crooned, pointedly ignoring him. “I think I’m just gonna call it a night though. Probably caught somethin’ at work or this fuckin’ rain, right? I don’t wanna give it to you.”

Jay visibly slumped, but you reasoned it could’ve had more to do with staring at a screen all day than the disappointment of you canceling. “You sure, babe? Let me at least go back and get you somethin’ else.”

Connie was mouthing something and you chanced a glance at him, only to start coughing when he hushed out - “Udon - Udon from down the block.”

“Sorry,” you apologized again. “Stupid television. But no, it’s fine, I’m sure I’ve got something to pick at here.”

“Shit,” he muttered, sucking on his teeth. “Aight, well how ‘bout I swing by tomorrow, check up on you, play Doc if you need.”

“That would be amazing, baby. Hit me up, okay?”

Jay leaned in as if to kiss you but you veered back, making a gross face, clearing your throat for good measure. He shook his head but offered a sheepish smile and a reluctant goodnight before trudging back down the stairs. You stood there watching, waiting for him to get down and out the door to the alley before locking up again, muttering curses under your breath as Connie pushed off from the wall.

“Constantine Nikas, so fuckin’ help me,” you dragged out his full name just to show how annoyed you were but he was too busy teasing you and Jay, wagging his brows suggestively as he pulled you into his arms.

“Oh baby, please, don’t be mad at me, baby..” You tried backing away from him but he only held on tighter, smooching loud kisses on your face for emphasis and you couldn’t keep from rolling your eyes even if you were laughing. “I’ll make it up to you, baby. I’ll make it real good for you, baby, I promise.”

“You drive me crazy, y’know that?” you asked. But you were suddenly content with having turned Jay down for the night; annoyance ebbed away in waves, replaced with this playful sort of want in your limbs Connie was always able to draw out of you.

“Yeah,” he said, voice back to normal. His eyes ran over your body, one hand petting your hair as the other slid back and forth over your ribcage. His lips parted, jaw slackened, and you knew the expression all too well. “Yeah, I’m real trouble.”

You squealed when he scooped you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and carried you down the short hall toward your bedroom. The door slammed back against the wall, Connie blindly slapping around for the lightswitch before you both tumbled onto your bed.

Finesse had never been Connie’s strong suit, but you couldn’t knock his determination. Your hair caught in your shirt when he tore it off and it was a battle of arms between undressing and heavy kissing. There was flooding arousal in the scandal of it all; the dangerous ex you’d sworn yourself off of time and time again, nestling between your dutifully parted thighs as if he belonged there.

He had always been trim but you only ever felt small trapped under his frame, his strength surprising, pinning you down, one large hand on your tit stretching your bra until it screamed in protest, pinching your skin as it came undone.

Cheap tattoos littered his pale skin, so utterly Connie, and when you whined pathetically, he merely grinned. Sharp teeth raking over his bottom lip as he made work of removing your pants.

“You fuck him yet?” he rasped at you, voice hitching with each tug down your legs.

“Why, you wanna fuck him?”

“You see the size a’that guy?” Connie asked. Your pants were lost to the floor and he groaned at the sight of you, hiked your knee past his shoulder so he could drag his mouth along the meaty flesh of your thigh. “He would end up breakin’ me.”

“Like he breaks me?” you teased. And it was worth the flash of possessiveness in his gaze, a dark flicker of light in those grey eyes.

“S’that right?” There was a shift in his demeanor and suddenly a fist was in your hair, jerking at the nape of your neck so sharply, you yelped. In the same fell swoop, his other hand snaked beneath your underwear, fingers forcefully searching for purchase and he hummed at what he found. “That why you so wet for me right now?”

“Connie-” you were cut off as two long fingers sunk inside of you, deep, and curling just so that your lashes fluttered and your lips trembled.

“No, no, tell me,” he went on, hovering right above you. Close enough to kiss if it weren’t for the tight hold on your hair. A painful temptation as he started a quick pace, fingers wetly slicking in and out of your cunt, and your hips bucked at him. “Tell me how he does that, when you’re on your back here just for me.”

“Just for you,” you told him. Connie liked that, the feeling of ownership. He got off on having power over people regardless of circumstance, be it on the streets or in the bedroom. Enough so that he’d felt the need to etch the very word into the skin of his back.

The ego stroke eased his expression but not the unrelenting rhythm of his fingers; brutally pumping inside you, seeking to finish you hard and fast. Pearls of beaded sweat coated your temple as you felt a throb of coiled heat twist painfully sweet in your cunt. You grasped onto his forearm in some silent plea for relief. Eyes clenched shut, crying out when his thumb teased along your clit.

"Don't do that," Connie scolded, voice low. The fist in your hair loosed and his hand drifted over your throat. "Look at me. Let me see you."

You looked at him despite yourself, overtaken by the intensity of his stare, watching you react to him with bated breath. There was a gaping absence as he withdrew from you, soaked fingers slicking toward your clit, stimulating in heavy circles. “What you gonna do for me, huh?”

Any response you might’ve thought up died in your throat; Connie abruptly hastened, furiously rubbing the swollen nub with the pads of his fingers. You wheezed out his name, spine arching from the bed. It was too much too fast. It was agonizing pleasure clouding your senses, erupting harshly from the pit of your groin, only to leave you wailing as you came.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” It was a longtime habit of his, talking you through it. And his husky voice might’ve been soothing now if you hadn’t been hurting with oversensitivity. You pushed his hand away, instead pulled him close in effort to cradle his arm, grounding you as the orgasm pulsated your core.

"Look at you.. So pretty for me." He nuzzled at your cheek, then your jaw, seeking. Claiming your lips in a bruising kiss that kept you breathless. His beard scratched your chin as he pried your mouth open, and you groaned weakly around his tongue.

You trembled underneath him as the kiss deepened. Marveled at how much your body craved his no matter how much time had passed. Wondered if his timing was purposeful that way; let you nearly forget the taste of him, the feel of his touch. Keep that ember glowing low so he could show up and stoke the fire in you whenever he pleased.

He was undoing his belt when he sat up. Made quick work of stripping from his jeans and boxers before sidling up close on his knees. Your underwear was an afterthought that he briskly removed before grabbing you by the hips. He stayed perched on his haunches and with one swift jerk you were flush against him, thighs parting wide for his cock to slip along your cunt.

It was the only part of him that wasn’t lean; that you would never forget. Anticipation thudded in your ribcage as Connie gripped himself. Smacked his cock against your clit, and you were still so sensitive, your whole body twitched.

“Gonna take it so good for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick, tattooed chest heaving at the contact. You wiggled yourself even closer with a quiet whine, and his lips parted into a sultry grin. “Knew you fuckin’ missed me.”

“You’re an asshole,” you snapped, followed by a yelp as he spanked your thigh.

“And you’re a fuckin’ dirty girl,” he sneered, then spat on your pussy. Completely unnecessary given how soaked you were, but it couldn’t be dwelled on. You were too overcome with lust, lifting your hips desperately to be filled.

There was no restraint to be spared when he snapped his hips, stuffing you to the brink with a throaty grunt. The stretch was dizzying, with no time to adjust before he reared back and slammed inside you once more. A new pace was set, rough and unforgiving, Connie’s hands drawn tight in vice grips around your waist.

He was never one to be gentle; it wasn’t in his nature. He preferred to linger on your body; to be felt for days. His thrusts were exacting and you simply had to endure the onslaught, even if it forced shrill sobs soaring from your lungs.

“Fuck, listen to you,” he grit out, heaved breath hitching with each forceful squelch of your cunt. Tousled hair fell into his face, but you could see his eyes blown wide, devouring your wanton display. A palm slid up your waist, stopping to cup a bouncing tit and his teeth bared in a breathless grin. “Just needed my cock, huh? Gonna cream all over me, baby?”

“Connie.” He could be so fucking filthy but you keened all the same, feeling your walls flutter around his thick cock, stretching, thrust after unyielding thrust.

You felt so full you could’ve wept when he pulled out, leaving you lewdly dripping after him. But with an almost tender twist of your nipple, Connie turned you over, hands pushy and demanding as he positioned you just how he wanted. His knees kept your thighs apart, spread eagle and ass in the air with one abrupt shove to pin you down on your chest.

You were throbbing again, needy and pushing back against him until his palm clapped across your ass. A wordless chastising that made you quiver, but a second later his cock sunk inside, impossibly deeper in a way that sent stars behind your vision.

The slap of his skin hitting yours steadily rose in time with another blooming orgasm, licking at the base of your spine, jolting your insides when his balls smacked your clit. Your moans grew hoarse, mouth hanging open on the rumpled blankets underneath you, saliva seeping into the cotton. All you could do was slur his name over and over, and Connie drove home harder, riled by the sound of it.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna fuckin’ feel you.. Come on my cock, baby.” He reached down to snatch a harsh handful of your hair, and you thought you might be split in two. You were awash with incoherence, imploding pressure building in the depths of your belly and suddenly sharp teeth sank into the back of your neck. His bite gnawed into your skin and the stinging pain sent you over, deaf to your own volume, hips gyrating, only kept in place by Connie’s hold.

Utter drivel hissed from his mouth, sweaty forehead dug into your hairline. He spewed curses in your ear at the feel of your shuddering pussy, milking him before he followed suit. You took vindicated pleasure in the way he moaned, cock twitching heavily then dousing your walls with his cum. He lurched with one final thrust, so deep it hurt, filling you with his get.

His movements were lethargic as he straightened, hands on your ass, canting and parting your cheeks to watch his cock slide out. Connie groaned at the sight of you dribbling with his mess, and even with your back turned, you could swear his chest puffed with pride. You whimpered at the feel of his fingers, but he softly hushed you.

“I got you, I got you,” he promised, and his fingertips gently trailed your slit, feather light along your glistening heat. “Fuck.”

And just as you were about to relax, he drew his hand back and brought his palm down across you in one swift spank.

“Con’!” you squeaked, throat scratchy with exertion. But he was chuckling, shit-eating grin back on his face when he collapsed next to you.

“You still fuckin’ like that shit.” He turned to his side, arm snaking around your waist, and your limbs felt heavenly once you stretched out alongside him. Besides the fucking, you were suddenly reminded of your favorite parts of him, the rare soft spots. The vulnerable side he often refused to acknowledge; that pecked the tip of your nose, touch affectionate on your skin. “Don’t lie to me again.”

You pushed his hair back from his face, swallowing down the skip of your heart from the true smile that reached his eyes. He could be handsome if he wanted to be, too. It was lucky for you that he didn’t.

“Shave that thing off and get back to me.” He appeared confused at first, but then you covered his mouth with your hand and proceeded to pet the coarse facial hair. “You tryin’ to look tough or somethin’?”

“That is incredibly rude. How’d you like it if I talked smack on how you look-”

You cut off his whining. Climbed on top of him and kissed him. It was draining to do so; you could only imagine how sore you would be tomorrow. And there was exhaustion in him alike, a strained rumble resounded in his chest as you nibbled and flicked your tongue at the seam of his lips.

He was just beginning to return the fervor when you pulled back, breathing heavy. Used the new position to reach over the bed and collect his shirt. Connie pouted when you put it on, tried coaxing a grip around your calf as you climbed off and excused yourself to the bathroom.

Repercussions were tomorrow you’s problem, you decided as you plopped on the toilet. Face in hands, you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself, feeling buzzed at what just occurred in the bedroom. A new perk in owning a laundromat - you could discreetly wash the sheets well before you even had to consider what to do about Jay.

“Sweetheart… Could I borrow some money?”

There it was.

You rolled your eyes as you flushed the toilet, briefly pausing at the mirror to fix the disaster that was your hair.

“Yeah, sure.”

Connie was in his boxers perched at an open window smoking a cigarette when you returned. Stared at you long enough to shrug at him in question.

“‘Yeah, sure’, that’s it?”

You approached him to steal a few drags of your own before spreading out on the bed; a taunting display in nothing but his t-shirt. You practically simpered at him. “Consider me prepared, got my own ‘Connie Rainy Day Fund’. I’ll take that over one a’them schemes you pull.”

He huffed in a way to suggest he could've been offended, but eventually the corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. He stabbed out the cigarette and came to stand before you, gaze lidded in a way that had you thinking he might be contemplating a second round.

“You staying or going?”

Connie climbed onto the bed, crawling the short distance to straddle your legs, hands set above your shoulders. You couldn’t help but squirm, imposing as he was, his face shadowed under the cropped curtain of dark hair. Soft spots be damned.

But his response was less intimidating.

Morning came and you woke alone, Baba the only other company in the apartment. This was unsurprising, and more importantly unoffensive. You’d known Connie far too well for far too long to be surprised at his bailing.

“I’ll get us breakfast in the morning.”

He’d gotten what he wanted, after all. Your body and your cash.

The savings for him wasn’t a lie; you preferred to be prepared where he was concerned; no amount was asked for or disclosed, he’d find out when he truly needed it and however many months down the road when he’d need it again.

It would remain unspoken that you hated to think what he and his brother would resort to when desperate.

After a quick - still rainy walk with Baba, you took a hot shower; sheets already tumbling away in the machines downstairs. It was just like any other day, after a strange blip of overnight bouts of unfettered sex. Nothing you wouldn’t sort out until -

“God fucking dammit, Constantine,” you swore at your reflection.

In the throes of passion, you’d completely forgotten about the clamp of his teeth on your neck, now aligned in a bright purple on your freshly bathed skin. This was a problem, this had to be explained and you felt like a teenager, already trying to think of ways to hide it or cover it up. You would have to just… abstain from getting physical with the guy you were dating.

And maybe the fucker intended that.

The train of thought was interrupted when you started at the sound of your front door swinging open. Baba barked and whimpered and you stuck your head out of the bathroom, only to balk at Connie kicking off his shoes in the vestibule.

“Easy, easy, girl. Off.” Your traitor dog still loved him, no matter how many times he walked out that door. “That’s a good girl, off. Good.”

He noticed you down the hall, frozen in the doorway of your bedroom, watching in complete shock. His own expression was unreadable. That would be unspoken too, what you both knew you’d been thinking about his absence that morning.

“Breakfast,” Connie announced, raising the takeout bags in his hands. He rifled around through one of them, searching for something. “Got the extra hashbrowns just how you like, but they didn’t have any chocolate milk.” He found what he was after and pulled out a chocolate brown bottle, gave the Hershey’s syrup an enticing shake before disappearing into the kitchen.

You picked your jaw up from the floor. This was fine. No big deal. Surely, he'd be gone after breakfast.

#connie nikas #connie nikas x reader #good time 2017 #good time movie #rob pattinson #my fic

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seal-writes-stuff · 1 year

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SFW Alphabet - Connie Nikas

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, NSFW mentions

Summary: All in the title!

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve been working on this one for a while, so I’m glad to finally share it with you. Hope you enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Connie's affectionate, but in a more discreet way. He shows his love through teasing; Connie's not good at expressing his emotions, so this feels safe for him.

It’s either that or doing stuff for you. Connie likes feeling useful and wants you to feel pampered.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Your friendship is… Let’s just say “chaotic". He’s the kind of friend who’s down for anything, but he’s also the kind of friend who assumes that you’re down for anything as well. Even though you’ve known each other since high school, Connie always finds a way to surprise you with some of his ideas.

At the same time, Connie’s the kind of friend who’s always ready to hear you out, regardless of the circumstances. You treasure the time you’ve spent together. He’s the guy you’ve made your fondest memories with.

The hardest part is to not confess your feelings for each other by accident.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Connie likes to play tough. He’s spent a big part of his life in the world where open vulnerability was a sign of weakness, which makes it hard for him to be truly intimate with other people. That said, cuddles from him are a sign of love and trust; he craves your touch, even though he does his best to hide it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You've had your doubts, but Connie is surprisingly good at cooking and cleaning. He's not an expert, but he's got the basics covered since he had to care for his brother and sometimes his grandma pretty much his entire life. Connie still orders takeout whenever he can though - in his mind, it's easier and has less bad memories attached.

And as for settling down… For Connie, it's been nothing but a distant dream for a long time, so he's hesitant. Still, it happens organically: he hangs out at your place so much that one day he just kinda lives here, and neither of you would have it any other way.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

As horrible as it sounds, he'd probably just disappear. Connie wouldn't be able to stomach outright breaking up with you, especially if it happened because he’s gotten in some deep shit again and wanted to keep you safe. He'd leave and push all the thoughts about it as far as possible, hoping you could forgive him one day.

Connie would try to convince himself it's the best, the only decision he could make, even if he regrets it forever.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Connie has a… Complicated relationship with commitment. He’s not even scared of it, he simply doesn’t consider himself a good person, so he doesn’t want to subject you to a lifetime of misery in his company.

But even then, Connie would agree to marry you in a heartbeat. He still wouldn’t understand why you’re doing this, but hey, who is he to question you?

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Let’s be real, Connie’s pretty clueless when it comes to real, genuine emotional intimacy. He wants you to feel good, to feel safe and content the way he does with you, but he doesn’t know how to do it. So Connie’s as gentle as he can be with you, but there’s still a lot to learn.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

When it’s just the two of you, Connie hugs you often. First of all, it allows him to be close to you – something Connie desperately wishes for, as much as he likes to pretend otherwise. Second of all, hugs are perfect way to rile you up pretty much without doing anything. All in all, it’s an absolute win in his eyes.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A week or two into your relationship. For Connie, the L-word doesn’t hold the same significance that it does for other people. He loves you, he wants you to know that he loves you, so why the hell should he wait any longer? You’re shocked and flatter – but you accept it, of course.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Connie gets jealous a lot, even though he doesn't always act on it. In Connie’s mind, it’s just another reminder that you could do better than him, maybe even that you should. No matter how much you remind Connie that you wouldn’t want anyone but him, the shitty feeling is always lingering. Not only that, he doesn’t have a lot of healthy outlets for his jealousy either; so while Connie never takes it out on you, “the threat” he perceives another person to be is a different story.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Most of the time his kisses are mischievous and teasing. As I’ve mentioned before, this man loves to rile you up and the way he kisses you very much reflects that. The other type of Connie’s kisses, however, is all but reserved for special occasions; they’re slow and soothing, as if he’s telling you everything is going to be alright.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Connie’s pretty good with kids – and it’s not even that surprising, considering he’s had a lot of practice from a very young age. Granted, Connie might be awkward at first, but his skills come back to him soon enough.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Two words: he’s asleep. As in, absolutely out of it. Connie’s sleeping schedule is erratic, mostly depending on when his schemes are taking place, so he takes his sweet time in the morning. Still, you always take a moment to peck him on the cheek before heading off to work.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Since Connie’s usually up all night, he loves being by your side. It doesn’t even matter what you’re doing – going on the most extravagant date ever or lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You’re together and it’s all that matters for him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Connie doesn't like to talk about his past. It feels embarrassing and unnecessary for him, so he'd rather just not do it at all. You assure him over and over that you'd accept him no matter how much or little he reveals, but there's always this persistent doubt in his mind that Connie can't quite shake. So he'd definitely reveal things slowly, if ever at all.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Even though Connie can get agitated when things go really wrong, he’s pretty chill in his everyday life. Besides, he tries to be gentle with you – you’re all he has, so he’d hate to scare you away.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers a lot of things about you, to the point it's almost unnerving. Connie's always observing you a lot when you are together - not out of malice, you just fascinate him. The details kind of get stuck in his head as a result.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The two of you had a plenty of memorable moments in your relationship, but Connie’s favorite is the pillow talk you’ve had after your first time together. He still remembers you tracing his tattoos with a sweet smile on your face, whispering how much you love him over and over again. It wasn’t even about sex, he just couldn’t get over how gentle and intimate that was.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Connie’s pretty protective. Everything he’s been through in his life made him paranoid, so he wants you to be okay, always. And if something, anything would get in a way of that, Connie would go to great (and sometimes illegal) lengths to get rid of it. Nothing is too much if it means keeping you safe.

On the other hand, Connie wouldn’t want you to protect him. Hell, he wouldn’t even want you to know that he’s ever in danger in the first place. Your love is enough of a protection for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Most of the time Connie doesn’t have a lot of money to spend – something he’s painfully aware of. That said, he still tries his best to make you feel special. Connie’s so happy to have a person who accepts him with all of his flaws, so he wants you to always remember how much he appreciates you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Connie lies a lot – about the most mundane things, too. If you pressed him, he wouldn’t even be able to tell you why he does it. Connie tries to stop for your sake but he just can’t help it sometimes; lying got him out of a lot shady situations in the past, so nowadays it’s a pattern he can’t quite break.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not really. Connie's always seen his body as a tool for doing things, so he doesn't care about his appearance very much. He's surprised every time you start gushing over how hot and beautiful he is (and he's also insanely flustered, but he'd never tell you that).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. You're his home - and, let's be honest, a moral compass - in a lot of ways. Connie wouldn’t know what to do with himself without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Connie pretends to be annoyed about it, but seeing you in his clothes actually means everything to him. For Connie it’s very sweet and domestic; another way to say that you love him, that you want to share your life with him. He’s more than ready to sacrifice any of his hoodies for that feeling.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Connie bends, if not outright breaks, the rules a lot, however that may manifest. So he probably wouldn’t date someone who’s not okay with that. He also wouldn’t be with someone who insists on knowing everything about his life and/or his family right off the bat. It’s a whole mess Connie himself isn’t ready to unpack.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Connie's a heavy sleeper: he goes to bed pretty late, but once he’s out, he’s out. He also holds you like his life depends on it – and you hold him too, glad to spending every night in his arms.

#connie nikas #connie nikas x reader #connie nikas imagine #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson imagine #good time #good time 2017 #seal writes

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