#Nana Connie

[a-disaster-piece]

[doybyke]

HII i loved those stamps sm, can i request a nana connie version?

OF COURSE !! im super glad u enjoyed :P

nana connie - marcel the shell with shoes on free 2 use !! reqs open !!

[heartz4shauna]

marcels grandma passed away i can’t “she was probably very tired, after being excited” A SHELL FUNERAL 💔💔💔😭😭😭

[bratreligion]

LOOK WHAT YOU DID FEATURING CONNIE SPRINGER | CHAPTER ONE

“and i’m feeling something new, i can’t explain it, heart racin’. and it only beats for you, i can’t resist. oh, look what you did.”

SYNOPSIS after three or so years of living the single life, you run into famous music producer, connie springer who would later change your life forever.

CHAPTER ONE wc 3k smth ngl im lazy, no content warnings needed i think, haven’t been here in a minute i hope yall like it because i’ve never done a series before! :D

it was a quiet saturday, the soft, consistent chatter of season two of the vampire diaries mindlessly sounded from your tv, its purpose being background noise for the evening. as you wiggled your left toes under the led lights of your gel dryer, you finished cleaning up the edges of the polish on your right toes. it was the last thing you had planned to do for the day after running yourself a hot bubble bath, enveloping yourself in the soothing embrace of lavender infused body oils, and gently massaging the silky blend down your thighs and calves. as the week ended, it didn't take much to indulge yourself and feel truly pampered. working full time as a makeup artist could be exhausting, but the money made it all worthwhile. Some nights, all it took was a bottle of wine to unwind.

a little ‘beep’ chirped from the machine, signaling the polish was dry. you smiled as you stretched your legs out, proudly admiring the design you managed to draw on your toes. going for something simple, an hour prior, you had drawn french tips on your toes, painting little pastel hearts every other toe, nothing too special, but certainly on brand for you. fingers tapping the polish a few times, you ensured the last coat was completely dry before slipping your legs off the bed, sinking your manicured feet into the soft, warm cushion of your baby blue care bear slippers, the cotton soothing the soles of your feet. ss the clock approached 5 pm, a gentle rumble in your stomach hinted that dinner was still a ways off. yet, the craving for a snack tugged at you. you started making your way toward your bedroom door, eager to rummage through the kitchen until the erratic buzzing of your phone vibrated through the floor.

you sighed dramatically, not the slightest bit surprised by reading the contact name attempting to reach you. you grasped the device, feigning annoyance as you answered the phone. your brows furrowed slightly, anticipating the exchange, knowing you loved it when ymir called. “man, what do you want?”

“yo, shut up, you’re not even doing anything.” ymir huffed, scowling. she was seated in her jeep wrangler, the blacked out interior and tinted windows all too familiar because she was constantly on the go. her dark brown curls framed her freckled face, diamonds dancing on the chain her girlfriend had bought her, sporting a new white designer hoodie from a brand you didn’t even know the name of. you had to admit, the girl could clean up nicely. “so, look, my cousin is co-hosting a block party on the north, and before you say you aren’t coming, i never said you had a choice. get dressed.”

you strolled over to your bed, falling back into the plushness of your mattress, rolling your eyes as you blew a raspberry. nine times out of ten, you only left the house because of ymir, her extroverted nature heavily differing from your meek self. while most friends in relationships abandoned you, ymir and her girlfriend were frequently coercing you into coming out of your condo, even snatching you out of your room from time to time. you knew what the deal was when she called. “‘mir, i told you last night that i don’t want to come out this weekend. besides, a block party sounds like too much, especially if eren’s hosting.”

ymir sucked her teeth, laughing in annoyance. “girl, i don’t wanna hear that. get up, it’ll be fun. you act like an old ass lady.” if anyone else had been on the phone, you would have hung up minutes ago. it had been some time since you had seen ymir, as your busy schedule had prevented you from taking too many personal days. the two of you had gone from seeing each other four times a week to once every other weekend. you chuckled as you shook your head, knowing your arguments fell on deaf ears when it came to her. besides, you did miss her.

you sat up, making your way over to your vanity, propping the phone against the mirror as you sat on the furry stool. “whatever, lil’ girl, are we matching today or what?”

she grinned, displaying her teal braces as she bounced in her seat, gripping the steering wheel. “hell yeah, i know you’ve got something orange and white. i’ll be there in thirty.”

time slipped away as you stood before the mirror, a radiant smile spreading across your face after your conversation with ymir. you couldn't help but admire yourself, feeling a rush of confidence as you took in your reflection. “pretty” wasn’t even the word to describe how you looked. you stood comfortably in your orange and white dunks, adjusting the light wash denim mini skirt you paired with a white, long sleeve bodysuit and an orange puffer. your braids dangled down your back, the curls in each braid making the style fuller. by the time you’d finished accessorizing with jewelry, ymir was outside, blasting the usual rap music you had grown used to. 

you were familiar with the area the block party was in, having been on the north side for outings several times before. the street thrummed with life, a vibrant array of people coming and going, their laughter and conversations blending harmoniously with the pulse of music that flowed through the air. as you stepped out of the car, the smell of weed traveling with the cool september air engulfed your senses, and it didn’t smell like anything ymir had smoked on the ride there. as ymir led you around, she was greeted by at least ten people who asked who you were and why they had never seen you before. ymir ignored their questions. like her infamous cousin, she was well known. sometimes you thought that if you hadn’t met her in the eighth grade, you would’ve never crossed paths. 

“yo, cuzzo!” ymir screeched, jogging towards eren, who pulled her into a hug as he dapped her up. you had known eren almost as long as ymir, and saying they were two peas in a pod would be an understatement. if they were not meant to be cousins, they would have been twins. not only did they share the same goofy, playful personalities, but they also looked alike. as much as it pained you to admit it, due to his player nature, eren always looked good. a gold chain rested on his black wife beater that appeared too tight for his muscled chest and his long, brown locks in his usual low bun. his smile was something of its own, sensual and overly sexy. eren was fine, no doubt about it, but you knew that regardless of all his flirting over the years, he was worse than ymir before she met her girlfriend. he was sex on legs–a walking red flag.

“what’s up, ‘mir!,” eren cheekily grinned, geeked to be around his cousin. his eyes shifted to you, doing his usual shameless eyeing at your figure and face, his smile turning devious. “oh, you brought, miss hollywood. come here, girl, where my hug at?”

giggling, you smacked your lips, striding towards eren and hugging him, squealing as he held you close. “hi, eren, nice to see you too.” 

eren grinned at you. “i haven’t seen you in hellas, where you been?”

shifting in your shoes, you tilted your head to the side, playing coy. “working, man. you know i don’t get a break. these celebrities work the hell out of me.”

he threw his arm around you, biting down on his lower lip. “you work too hard, i’ve been telling you about that. forget them. call me when you wanna do a full beat.” his joke got a small laugh from your lips, but it was interrupted when a voice across the lot called his name, diverting his attention. you brushed off the interruption, leaning casually against eren’s car while sharing a laugh with ymir as she blew guava mango scented smoke from her geek bar into the atmosphere. 

“man, he’s gonna feel like he won the election the day you let him giggle you out them victoria’s secret panties, i swear to god,” ymir mumbled, laughing harder as you swatted her leg. she leaned over, watching eren as he talked, and you, being just as nosy as she was, watched alongside her. next to him stood a man a few inches shorter, maybe standing at 5'9, modeling an overgrown silver toned blonde buzzcut. he wore a pair of black chrome hearts sunglasses on his lower nose bridge, but it did little work at hiding who he was underneath, his facial features all too familiar. you squinted as you scanned his outfit, which was a white jersey with pink and yellow lettering on his torso, paired with oversized jean shorts with ragged edges. the sight of his exclusive black and yellow louis vuitton sneakers left you speechless, recalling how you had seen the shoes before, but in person and not online.

you thought about the last time you’d done someone’s makeup for a big event around two weeks ago. you always wore a mask when you worked, regardless of how comfortable you were because most of the time, your client wasn't the only person in the room. that day, you’d done at least four looks, and the final one was for mikasa ackerman, a singer who had become a well known name in the alternative pop genre. it wasn’t the first time you’d done her makeup, however, things were different due to the presence of a certain music producer, constance ‘connie’ springer. it had been a long day, and as much as you wanted to fangirl in your head, you were too tired. you were used to being around people of all different statuses, so you didn’t pay him much mind as he and mikasa discussed the production details for her upcoming album. the last thing you remembered from that day was watching the shoes strut out the dressing room door, wishing you had a pair.

you gasped, your hand instantly finding ymir’s forearm, unintentionally digging your nails into the skin. she winced, slapping your hand, looking at you as if you were a mad woman. “girl, what the hell?”

“ymir, you didn’t tell me eren knew connie fucking springer?” you raised an eyebrow, ymir’s eyes nearly bursting out of their sockets as she looked closer at the figure by eren. connie springer, the producer behind most of the albums released in the past four years, each of which had spent a considerable amount of time on the charts, was standing next to eren, who wasn't famous for much besides his parties and his performance in bed. they were casually chatting as if their conversation were completely ordinary.

“no fuckin’ way.” she whispered. while ymir was in full fangirl mode, completely captivated by the realization that connie's producer tag graced almost all of her favorite tracks, each one now infused with an extra layer of excitement seeing the talent behind them, connie and eren were looking in the direction where you and ymir stood. eren looked back and forth between you and connie, but connie’s eyes set on you. you felt small under his gaze even though he was at least twelve feet away from you, and the pool of interest settling into his golden orbs wasn’t visible, but you could feel it. he removed his sunglasses, tucking them into his back pocket, and now, you were sure his attention was on you. he wore a smirk like no other as he took in each one of your unique features to the best of his ability, distance aside. you swallowed.

“yo, [♡], come here for a second!” eren shouted, his fingers making a motion, signaling for you. you froze, gripping that same spot on ymir’s arm. she stood by you in shock, yet a shit eating grin spread across her lips. she laughed, placing her hands on your shoulders, and pushing you in their direction. you wanted to move, not phased by the fact a famous person was in your vicinity, speaking with someone you had known for years, but more so in awe at the fact that they were likely–no, were, talking about you. it made you nervous and you never got nervous around people like him.

“go see what they want, scary ass!” she giggled, shoving you, earning a nasty scowl from you as you looked back.

you gave her the middle finger, the french tip acrylics on your nails making the gesture seem even more impactful. “you suck.”

a pit of nerves bubbled in your stomach as you made your way over to the pair, shoulders suddenly tense and your skirt riding higher with each step. attempting to look nonchalant, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket, ignoring how sweaty they grew as connie’s gaze became more apparent with every inch you moved. you tried to relax, only focusing on eren as connie’s eyes drilled holes into your head, as if he was daring you to look at him, to give him that attention he was so used to receiving. if anything, your refusal, unfamiliar to him, was intriguing. eren struggled to suppress a grin, his vibrant green eyes flickering playfully between you and connie, a glint of mischief twinkling in his gaze. “[♡], this is my boy, connie. you know him, right?”

you looked everywhere but connie’s eyes, settling on his lips but not before giving eren a stern look, nowhere near amused by his antics. “yeah, of course. i’ve seen him while working a few times too.” voice soft and sweet.

the man spoke, sending chills down your back as if it was the first time you’d heard his raspy, colorful tone. you’d heard him talk before, but it was nothing compared to how attractive he sounded now, speaking with deep intention and curiosity with a few simple words. five words melted off his tongue like honey. “but i don’t know you.”

you giggled, concealing that it was more of a nervous laugh. you weren’t the tallest, standing at five feet and four inches, but his lean figure was suddenly taller than it was two weeks ago, towering over you. he was confident as always, just on the brink of cockiness but in a way that made him so, so fine. and his thick accent was a whole other thing. “oh, i wouldn't expect you to, i'm just a makeup artist. i usually wear my mask with my clients, anyway.” you said, clearing your throat.

he closed the distance between you, the air thickening as the space between you vanished. by now, eren had walked off, somewhere with ymir watching the scene unfold, the pair giggling like school girls. the way he was moving gave you no choice but to look up into his eyes. he was finer in person, but up close and personal he was just as handsome as everyone said he was. his lips were somewhat full, a tiny freckle underneath the minty layer of chapstick on his lips. it was as if he didn’t blink, those long brown lashes making his golden eyes more appealing. he was tan, but a faint blush had crept onto his cheeks, natural or due to the lack of space between you two.

“you’re real pretty, you know that, ma?” the sudden nickname and compliment made you smile, and if your skin wasn’t that lovely shade of brown, he would’ve noticed blood rushing to your cheeks. people constantly flirted with you. you were the epitome of beauty. still, you'd be lying if you said hearing the praise come from connie didn't make you feel some type of way. “i definitely would have noticed you earlier. what's your name? eren already told me but i think i'd rather hear you say it.”

you crossed your arms as you laughed, your eyes raking up and down connie’s handsome exterior. “It's [♡]. and, thank you, mr. springer.”

he sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “why you callin’ me that? you don’t gotta be formal wit’ me.”

you shrugged, giggling as you kicked the rocks on the ground. “excuse me for being polite, constance.”

he cringed at the mention of his birth given name, sliding his hands into his front pockets as he relaxed his posture. he looked at you as if you were a dream come true, still awestruck at how beautiful you were, his inner thoughts more telling. in the back of his mind, he made mental notes of little details about you, storing them in the file cabinet of his head. your edges were neat and intact under the hot sun, still swooped as if you had just done them. when you talked, your lips sparkled, the glitter in the lip gloss sparkling with every movement you made. he didn’t intend for his gaze to wander lower than your chin, but he noticed how your thighs wobbled when you walked towards him earlier. you were so damn pretty. “yeah, aight. so what’s up with you? i saw you over there lookin’ all fine, i had to ask ej about you.”

“what did you wanna know?”

“all about you, but only you can tell me all that.” connie sat against his car, a black ferrari with bright orange rims, legs spread. 

“look, connie,” you started as you crossed your arms, shaking your head. he looked at you attentively, resisting how badly he wanted to pull you in by your hips and between his legs, “i don’t get involved with a lot of people. you’re cute and all, but you’re famous. i work with your crowd, but i know better than to get romantically involved with anyone. besides, thousands of girls around here would be begging to have you in the backseat of their cars if they knew you were here.”

it pained you to have to reject a man this fine, but it was no secret men in the industry were bad to fool around with. they were always unfaithful, liars, and ungrateful for whatever godsent woman they had in their lives, and you had always told yourself you’d never be one of those women getting dogged out and embarrassed. connie was about one of the finest men you’d ever met, but you had set limits for yourself. connie had never been in a relationship the entire time he was a star, avoiding paparazzi or nosy fans whenever he had a little fling. he was also raised better than his peers in the industry who thought of women as accessories, unbeknownst to you. that being said, the frown on his lips was unpleasant as you spoke. he didn’t want you to assume he was like the men who let their status get to their heads. he wanted you to know the connie he stayed faithful to his entire time in the spotlight. 

“i understand, hermosa, i do, but that isn’t me. i’m not some entitled cabron that gets around. believe me, i have nothing but pure intentions with a lady like you.” while it sounded sweeter than a sugar code coming off of his tongue, it was the standard talk a guy gave you when he wanted to convince you he was different and not like the rest. you had heard all of the lines before. you betted your lashes slowly as you observed connie as he spoke, attempting to find sincerity underneath his words. truthfully, if he wasn’t so cute, you would’ve walked away after saying your peace, but something about the pout on his lips kept you right where you were. “let me know you, girl.”

you took a step closer, now in between his legs, a smile on your lips. you thought you’d be a fool to believe anything he was saying. he was connie springer, a millionaire, and you were supposed to trust he was interested in you, a mere makeup artist from a block party he happened to think was pretty? still, you couldn’t deny how alluring the whole ordeal was. “i wish i could tell you yes, i really do.”

connie smiled sadly, the diamonds that decorated his canines waving at you. you were just about the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he would’ve taken the rejection a bit harder if you hadn’t given him the time of day. “so what, i’m supposed to just forget about your fine ass?.” he licked his lips slowly, his voice almost seductive. 

you paused to consider his question, suspecting that by the time he met another girl at the event, he would forget the encounter, and both of you would return to your separate lives. “that’s up to you.”

that same pink shade of blush from earlier crept back up to the apple of his cheeks. “fasho, then.”

“don't trip, you'll see me around." you began walking off, looking back at him one last time with those pretty eyes as if you’d never see him again before making your way back to ymir, not missing the way he eyed your behind in the denim skirt. "bye, connie.”

“bye, mami."

[vantetaes]

DIAL 1-800-HOT-N-FUN🫧🥥

MASTERLIST🐬

ATTACK ON TITAN.

JJK.

NANA.

DEMON SLAYER.

SERIES

* LOVE ISLAND A.O.T.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

[braunslover]

— i'll die without regrets... or, that's what i'd like to say. truth is, i have one. it's that i never got to marry you.

— hey, hachi. no matter how much or how often people hurt eachother - loving someone is never a waste. that love letter you left for me back then? i still cherish it.

[scottheim]

Ten incredible Andrea Martin impressions from the old SCTV days: Barbra Streisand; Bernadette Peters; Indira Gandhi; Sophia Loren; Mother Teresa; Ethel Merman; Charo; Beverly Sills; Nana Mouskouri; Connie Francis.

[notebookpapers]

I love recommending Marcel the Shell to people bc it always starts with them thinking it’s a haha funny little guy mockumentary and ends with them sobbing directly into their palms

[wheelercore]

Dead urn fake nana is rose and alive girlboss military nana is ruth

[lanieie]

𓆑 welcome to my blog !

content

mostly rambles and thoughts of mine

favs

the beatles, pattie boyd, taylor russel, stranger things, old fashion, adrianne lenker, italy, call me by your name, paradise kiss + nana, pinterest, connie francis, nancy wheeler, edm, the 60, 70s, and 80s !

other socials

instagram + pinterest: sunl4ne

friends ( check out my friend’s blogs ! )

@iheartjersey : ray ❦

@merciflore : cadie 𖧧

[bratreligion]

i feel like that nigga would be behind you doing everything under the sun. nigga fixing his apple watch and you bout to cum like cmon dude?

i believe connie springer is actually too goofy for backshots. While you’re trying to be all sexy he’s just staring at you like a goof ball.

when you even look back at him, all breathless there he is being all silly and waving back like an idiot.

[sunarc]

cw: breeding,videotaping, belly bulging,

Any chance he gets he likes to watch his cum drip from your holes, his favorite being your pussy. He calls it his tight little cum bucket. He’ll chuckle a grin as he wipes any residue of cum from your fold with his cock and shove it back into your hole. 

“You know I hate being wasteful” he groans as he sinks his cock back into you. 

You can barely pull yourself together as you whine and whimper from the overstimulation. He’s so sadistic he’ll make you hold the camera up to your pussy so that you can get a view of how he fucks the cum back inside. He knows you can barely keep your eyes open so holding a camera is almost impossible at the moment. 

“Come on I thought you wanted to make a movie” he grins menacingly staring deep into the camera. 

Your moans are desperate and loud. He gives you slow long strokes just so he knows you can feel every vein and inch of his cock. 

“Tell the camera where you feel me Angel” he licks his lips eyes filled with lust.

He knows exactly where you feel him. The print of his cock fucking into you is evident.

“Right here” you slur as you place a shaky hand on your lower stomach while the other holds the camera barely able to keep your hand steady.

He places his hand there and pushes down slightly.

“That’s where our baby is gonna be” he whispers

You let out a loud moan at the pressure of his hand. The feeling is so overwhelming you almost drop the camera. 

“Don’t drop it ” he chuckles darkly “or we’ll have to start all over again” 

He pushes your legs further apart so he can shove himself deeper in between them. His thrust are steady as he fucks you. You feel your body jolt back with each rough stroke. He grabs you by the throat pulling you close to him. 

“Come, I want you to get a good view of how your pussy’s sucking my cock in”

You're trembling holding the camera up. Your moans are loud you feel the embarrassment flooding through you thinking about looking back on the video. 

“Look at that, damn near sucking me dry.” 

The squelching sounds that pair with his thrust leaving you whimpering. Everything leaves you moaning desperately. His hand grips your throat holding you up so you can get a view of how he fucks you. His cock feels so big all you can do is moan and drool at the sight of him plunging himself deep into you. He’s been fucking you for so long your voice has grown hoarse. 

“You’re so messy” he chuckles “We’re gonna have to change the sheets after this” 

His eyes are trained onto where the two of you meet watching the way your juices spray out onto him. 

“You see that baby” his grip on your throat tightens as his thrust pick up speed “She’s telling me how much she loves me”

You’re too far gone, you can barely form words. 

“Keep that camera steady, I want you to catch how pretty this pussy looks with my cum dripping out”

Gojo, Toji, Getou, Nana-fucking-mi, Matsukawa, Suna, Osamu, Kuroo, Sakusa, Kita, Tsukishima, Connie, Onyankopon, Levi

[nieceeee]

"MATTERS OF THE HEART"

P/S credited to @wttcsms

"pro athlete character who gets featured on a tiktok for the team where the social media manager asks to see what’s in the players’ lockers. he opens up his and everyone is shocked to see stick figure drawings from y’alls kids & printed out selfies of him, you, and your kids. the domestic display is so different from his in-game personality that it almost feels like a prank, but when questioned further, he just tells the viewers, “my locker is full of reminders for who im playing and winning for."

I saw this and the story automatically popped into my head I hope you dont mind!

PAIRING: footballplayer!ony x reader.

A/N: So much fluff it will make your teeth rot! Sweet sweet Ony! This one came to my head to fast! I hope yall like it!

Being the social media manager of a football team kept you on your toes. You were used to all the antics: trash talking, flexing, the hype. It was like second nature for these guys. Your goal has always been simple, keep the fun and relatability. With this new trend, you were sure that this was going to be the perfect opportunity to showcase some of star players. 

Especially Ony.

Onyankapon AKA Ony AKA The Beast always carried a different level of mystery. Literally known as “The Beast” to his opponents. Ony was a quiet storm. Through all the post-game interviews, fan interactions, and behind the scene content, Ony normally kept to himself. He was reserved, leaning more in the background instead of the spotlight. The way he saw it, the field was his stage. Ony was the ghost outside of his highlights and the people wanted more. 

“Where is Ony?”

“Why is Ony never apart of the videos?”

“We need Ony on the screen!”

Week after week, the fans were restless. They wanted to see the beast outside of his natural habitat. And today was the day, little did you know, that it was going to happen. And not only that but it was going to break the internet in a way you never knew possible. 

You had pitched the idea for this part of the series a few months ago. The “Get to know us” playlist you had created on the team page had gained a lot of traction and the next video up was the “What’s In Your Locker?” trend. A TikTok video where the players give their fans a peek into their personal lockers to get a glimpse at their personality and lifestyle outside of the field. “It's not going to be anything too crazy. Just the basic snacks, routines, lucky charms, etc.” you explained in the meeting. 

It was going to be a piece of cake. 

Little did you know what Ony had in store for you and for the fans. 

You walked into the locker room, camera crew right behind you. They had the lighting set up and ready to go for the series. The team had finished another practice and they were doing their daily shenanigans, joking and messing around. “Okay boys! Cameras are about to start rolling!” you call out, giving them time to settle down before the red button popped up, indicating you were rolling. You grabbed the mic and started your rounds. This series would be a little bit different since it was live so everything had to flow well.

You start off slow walking over to Reiner, his southern slang and calm demeanor always setting a good tone for the videos. Chats start rolling in of women cooing over him. “Okay big Rei, my sweet guy. What’s in your locker?” you start. “Hey there darling.” He greets you. Hearts fill up the chat. He opens his locker door.  Everything is neat and organized. Clothes folded and tucked away. There was a small Texas magnet in the door holding a picture up of a young Reiner and his “nana” as he called her. Clean cut and to the point just like he was, “Sorry it's not all fancy. I’m a simple man sweetheart with simple taste.” his southern drawl croons out. 

Comments erupt in the chat “Raw. Next Question”

“Can he be anymore perfect?”

“Ain't nothing like a good ole southern man.”

“Thank you Rei.” you give him a smile and move to the next one. Your next player was Connie. He smiled big at you, legs bouncing with excitement as you approach. “Oh Lord here we go.” you giggle. “Connie Springer, do I want to know what’s in your locker today?” you ask him as you approach. “Come ooon, don't do me like that mamacita. I got some good stuff in here.” He bounces over to the door and swings the door open. If Reiner was all things order, Connie was everything chaos. 

His locker was packed to the brim, clothes stuffed into the corners. “And you wonder why you can never find anything for practice.” Jean said from across the room. Laughs echo across the locker room as Connie smacks his lips. “Whatever man. Your locker sucks. Mamacita, mira.” he turns your attention back to him. His locker door held chains with different charms, one holding the number 13. A horseshoe hung on the other side. “Y estas aquí son mis milagros. My charms from mi abuela y my tio. Son las cosas más importantes para mí.” he explained showing each charm to the camera. Again comments roll in.

“I don't know what he said but yes.”

“Can I have him please?” 

“BOOMSHAKALAKA YES LAWD!”

“Thank you C Springz. That's beautiful.” you say to him. You continue through several other players who give you different glimpses of themselves. Eren showing you his collection of skull jewelry to Armin sharing his favorite reads. You were just about to wrap up when your eyes landed on Ony. He leaned back against the bench watching you work the room. Your heartbeat thrummed in your chest as you did you best to keep your composure. His massive frame stretched out, relaxing and a small glint in his eyes. You took an unsteady step closer to him. “You can come over here. I won't bite.” his deep voice rang in your ears. 

“What I wouldn't give to be her right now!”

“OH MY GOD IS HE GOING TO DO A VIDEO!?”

“I’m so glad I didn’t scroll.”

“God, it's me again.” 

Comments scroll so fast it was hard to keep up with them. “Whoa, look who’s being a team player today.” Connie lets out. Other players try not to be so obvious with their shock but they mask it poorly. “Okay. Looks like we get a special treat today. The Beast himself is coming out of hiding.” you say softly. A small smirk curves at the corner of his lips. “Care to share what you’re hiding in there?” you ask nodding your head towards his locker. “Bet.” he says, standing and walking to his locker door, effortlessly drawing attention to himself. 

The door of his locker opens with a clank and squeaks open and the room was silent. 

The camera zooms in and widened eyes fill the room, no one expecting what they were seeing. Bright wonky stick figures drawn on white printer paper with old crayons littered the door. Scribbled names of “me and daddy” and “our family” written on the bottoms of each little masterpiece. Handmade “#teamony” craft magnets holding them together. 

“OMG ARE THOSE KID DRAWINGS?!”

“DOES HE HAVE CHILDREN?!”

“ONY WHY YOU CHEATING ON ME?”

Comments blur the screen at rapid speed. But when the camera zooms in closer, there is an eruption of energy underneath your skin. Because right underneath the lens of the live footage, pictures of his most kept secret were revealed. Images of him with a little boy holding a tiny football, selfies with a brown skin girl with slick back puffs, and then there they were. Pictures of Ony with his arms wrapped around none other than…you.

Printed selfies of you and him decorated the door. Selfies of you from date nights to casual Sundays at home during the offseason. Your face was plastered all over his locker room door. Beautifully captured domestic life shots of you, your kids, and your husband were being revealed across social media. Your cheeks heat up and skin tingled at the moment. The view count tripling. 

The locker rooms was dead silent. 

The revelation was jaw dropping. The sweet energetic social media manager they’ve grown to love and their number one player they respected and adored. Together? “W-wait…so y’all are…” Connie tries to find the words but for once was rendered speechless. “This.” Ony speaks up. “Is my motivation. These people right here. My kids Ocean and Oryan, and my beautiful wife Y/N. That's who I’m playing for.” His eyes find yours.  “Every Sunday, I put my all on the field but my heart is forever theirs.” Your chest rises and falls and you have to will the tears away. The man they knew as the beast, a tough no nonsense type of player revealing a piece of him he held so dear to his heart.

“So this is not like…a prank or anything? This is real life. Y/N is your wife?” Eren speaks out, trying to wrap his mind around the truth. Ony’s gaze stays locked on yours, pride and admiration sparkle in his irises. “Nope. This is who I play for. Who I win for.” he emphasizes walking closer to you. You try to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay as he nears. His teammates look at you both in awe, a blanket of tension building between the two of you on camera. The views continued to sky rocket, reaching the highest the social media team has ever seen but the only thing you were focused on was your husband. The man formerly known as the beast, a feared titan amongst men, was no beast at all. He was a father, a partner, a simple being behind all the physical prowess. 

“Damn O, you been hiding a whole family from us. That’s crazy.” Jean called out. The live content that was mean to be used for snippets later slowly shifted from a what’s in my locker to all things Ony and the followers were eating it up. Comments ablaze with questions about this newfound discovery. 

“How long she been with my man?”

“How old are the babies?” 

“Chat, is this real?”

“So, what’s up? How long has this been going on?” Eren asked. “Yeah, and have we met your kids? CAN WE MEET YOUR KIDS?” Connie jumps up and walks closer. Ony chuckles to himself. “If that's okay with wifey,” he says walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then y’all came meet them after the next game.” He looks down in your eyes. “That fine with you beautiful?” he asks softly. “Y-yes. That's okay.” you respond. Gone was the gung ho attitude from before replaced with a bashful softness only your husband normally sees.

His teammates stood there taking in the moment. Seeing a new side of Ony was something they weren’t expecting but in their hearts, they felt a shift. The leader of the team whose tough exterior stepped in the room before he did was revealing a deeper side of him resonating not only with his teammates but with every follower that was on the live.

THE LIVE!

Your mind was so wrapped up in your man that you didn't even register that you all were still rolling. You quickly turned towards the camera. “Well I hope y’all enjoyed this segment and we will catch you all in the next video.” you start to end it. Comments rushing in to tell you to keep it rolling but you knew that  you needed to wrap up and do it quickly. “TEAMNAME Signing off. See yall next week.” Ony finishes it off for you, arm tossed around your shoulder.

As the video finished, you tell the team to cut off the cameras but the energy in the room still buzzed around, still vibrating off your skin. Ony let you go and closed his locker door softly. He tosses his bag over his shoulder and walks back to you, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. “So…that was unexpected.” you say meeting his gaze. “What can I say? Got to keep things interesting. Don't want you to get bored of me.” he smirks at you. “I could never get bored with you.” you say softly, your lips pressing against his. 

Connie walks up behind you clearing his throat. “A-aye Ony man.” he starts. “I just wanted to say eres una inspiración big bro. We all go out and do what we gotta do on the field. But this,” he swipes his hand out gesturing towards you. “This is real shit amigo." “I appreciate lil bro. Forreal.” Ony daps him up and pulls him into a hug. You bite back your smile at the overwhelming love he was receiving. Being a football player’s wife was not easy but things like this made it all worth while. 

For the first time in a long time, your husband allowed himself to be truly seen and it made your heart swell with joy. Slowly the room starts to settle down and people begin to head home. You wait for Ony to finish packing his bag so that you could leave together. “Oh shoot my phone.” you say to him. As he waits for you, you rush into your office to get your phone from the desk. The minute you picked it up, your screen was flooded with notifications.

The video had went viral. Shares, comments, and memes overtook your feed. People had found your personal page from the video and were following you. Comments about brand opportunities and business along with outpourings of love filled your inbox. You stood there for a moment to take it all in. Several sports pages showcasing headlines about

“The Real Ony” 

“Ony’s Family Revealed”

“Onyankopon and Y/N: The Beauty Behind the Beast.”

That one made a laugh escape your chest. Major sports networks were sharing all about this small encounter. “Hey, you good baby girl? I lost you in here?” Ony’s head peeked around the corner of your office. You slip your phone in your pocket and meet him at the door. “Nope. Right here with you baby.” you say to him.

Later that evening, after tucking your kids into bed, you lay up under your husband and clear out more notifications. “This is going to be a field day trying to get through.” you mumble, mind already working overtime. Blogs wanted inside scoops about everything, your relationship, your kids, etc. Everyone wanted to know the story. “Uh uh. No working in bed.” he says snatching the phone from your hand and putting it on his nightstand. “But…” you start to argue but he pulls you close and kisses the disagreement from your lips. “No buts. We handle it tomorrow. Together.” he reassures you. You cuddle in close to him. “I still can't believe you did that, you know? I thought you were okay with keeping it quiet. What made you change your mind?” You ask laying on his chest. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“It was about time I showed everyone my heart.” he shrugs, puling you closer. 

And as you lay there, listening to the gentle beating of his heart you settled with one thing. No one. And you mean no one would ever forget this. The day Ony, the beast who played for his family, showed that his heart was as big as his game.

[bratreligion]

LOOK WHAT YOU DID FEATURING CONNIE SPRINGER | CHAPTER TWO

"it's all about you, whatever i do. i could be a player but it's not my truth."

SYNOPSIS a spontaneous night out leads to a mix of emotions and new relations.

CHAPTER ONE hiiii chapter two is HERE! i tried to do my best to get my plan as clear and constructed as i could this time. okay so this has a 6k wc, mentions of drinking and smoking, and the word lust.

“so, [♡], do you have somebody?” a tone woven with genuine innocence let the words flow in a way that wouldn’t annoy you, differing heavily from the sensual curiosity of the men who usually asked. stroking your left thumb over the soft wooden material of a makeup brush, a heavy weight rested with the faint beating in your chest, the air growing thicker as you took a hesitant breath. pondering, you mindlessly blended the coral-toned blush into the apple of your client sasha’s rosy cheeks, the soft bristles aligning with the sheer freckles that adorned her face. it wasn’t a difficult question to answer because you had no one special in your life, and that story didn’t require much. the hard part was knowing that had been your answer for three years now, as if cupid had shot you with an anti-love arrow. “i know you’ve got a few people blowing up your line.”

you panted, shyly shrugging as you shook your head. “nah, nobody’s on my line these days.” sasha scoffed as her golden eyes bunched up, looking at you in disbelief. 

“i don’t believe that. you must be tellin’ them all no.” sasha giggled, the natural tint of her cheeks intensifying the color of the blush you had applied. 

you let out a low mutter of amusement as you lightly patted loose powder into her dewy skin, eyeing your work carefully. “something like that… maybe it just isn’t my time.”

in all honesty, it had long been your time. throughout your life, dating was never something you purposely engaged in. most of the time, love found its way to you. the last time you had been in a relationship was three years ago, the last time you truly cared about someone. your relationship was the kind of fairy tale that most people only fantasized about at your age. it was passionate–the kind of relationship that made you feel like a dumb teenager, head over heels, experiencing a summer fling for the first time. every morning, you’d wake up with your cheeks as high as your brows, exhilarated as if the sun shone brighter each day you were with him. picnics in the park with home-cooked meals, joint wash days, spontaneous road trips in the middle of the night, and handpicked flowers at your door every two weeks.

there was never a dull moment with him, whether you were coming home to his tattooed arms providing you with a warm embrace, or if he was wiping salty tears from your puffy cheeks after a long day of working. it was sensual, some of the deepest intimacy you had ever experienced in your life, and that wasn’t even including the mind-blowing sex that got your body pressed into the bed anytime you wanted. sometimes, you couldn’t even think about how bittersweet that part of your life was. you were long over him, but, truthfully, some nights you got lonely and thought about why it was over.

the love didn’t stop coming out of the blue or on one random tuesday; he was never that kind of man, so you never woke up and wondered if he would stop loving you. he never cheated. you trusted him enough, so you knew that. and you weren’t tired of each other. it was simply a matter of life taking its course on two people who loved each other, putting things like school, careers, and work in the way of providing time for one another. football had been his passion for most of his life, and the moment he felt like he could be something, once he felt the way the bright overhead lights shone upon him as a kid, he knew he wanted to go pro. he was nothing like the others in his age group, who were mere stars in the making. he was already a star. he knew it, you knew it, the football scouts knew it, and everyone knew it. but with everyone knowing that fact came the more time his talent demanded from him, unfortunately leaving your relationship at the bottom of his list of priorities.

you never blamed him for chasing his dreams, as you were doing the same thing, attending the best cosmetology school in the state and getting your license to one day open your own salon. things happened, and people changed. it had been around a year since you’d heard from him, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, aside from when he was on live television, praised for leading his team to another victory. you were proud to see him achieve what he had worked so hard for during your relationship. still, you were hurt that you had to part from the man you hoped to marry and grow old with. breakups hurt.

a thick lump had formed in the back of your throat, shy of your tongue. you swallowed, taking a deep breath, and batting your lashes a few times to rid yourself of the tears that had crept amidst your reminiscing. pushing aside old feelings, you focused intently on sasha as you spewed setting spray onto the canvas of her face. you hadn’t heard a word of what she was blabbing about, doing the best you could to smile and look as if you had an understanding of her words. “mhm.” you mumbled. 

“and these men are getting worse and worse by the generation, i mean, since when is a simple date too much–oh my god,” she gasped, her jaw falling slack mid-sentence as she finally realized you had spun the chair around for her to look in the mirror. while lost in a daydream, ‘listening’ to her endless chatter, you had completed her makeup without even noticing the amount of time that had passed. sasha’s cherry red acrylics hovered over her cheeks as her once fiery expression softened into admiration, the gentle flecks of gold in her eyes sparking under the vanity lights. the glitter in the gloss on her lips danced as her mouth formed an oval shape as she tilted forward, her lips quirked up. “you’re amazing, do you know that?”

giggling, you couldn’t help but grin as you shifted on one foot. “thanks, sash. i’m glad you like it.”

“like it?” she gasped, moving her false lashes up and down in the mirror before turning around dramatically. “i love it. no wonder you’re so high in demand.”

you coyly bit back your smile as you gathered the products you had used on her face, neatly tucking each into its designated slot in your suitcase kit. sasha rummaged through her purse like a mad woman for a few seconds until she pulled out a stout wad of cash neatly bound by a hot pink rubber band. as always, you pretended not to see the payment out of the corner of your eye until she set it on the table next to you, her elated mood stamped on her face. you didn’t bother counting the cash before tucking it in your wallet; sasha always had your money and a more than generous tip, you weren’t worried about that. instead, you examined the two white slips of stock paper tucked under the rubber band. curiously, you adjusted your eyes until you could read the tiny, gold-printed letters on the cards.

ENTRANCE PASS FOR ONE PARTY, COURTESY OF PLUTO RECORDS. 2934 KAZINO AVE, ATLANTA, GEORGIA.

“sash,” you sucked your teeth as your eyes creased but you couldn’t help the low giggle that left your mouth. waving the small pieces of paper, you sighed, “what are these for?”

sasha squeezed her lips into a thin line, cheeks almost bursting with air as she blew into them. “a party?”

“what kind of party?” you pressed.

sasha pretended to be distracted, glancing around the dressing room as she gently tapped the tips of her nails on the plastic of her phone case. “it’s an event downtown, and a few artists are hosting.” she spat out.

“and why are you giving me these tickets, exactly?” crossing your arms, you raised a brow. “you know i don’t exactly fit in at those types of things.”

“i know, you say it whenever i invite you out. i just think you need to allow yourself a little more time to have fun! you need to let loose, drink a white claw or somethin’, meet a guy–or a girl. just think about it,” you hated to admit it, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. it had been two weeks since you went out, when you’d met connie, whose name mocked you at every job you took. ymir and eren, being their usual selves, had bugged you about joining them at whatever function they could find, to which you declined. after your encounter with connie, ymir was in your ear for days, rambling about how you ‘fumbled the bag’ and that the two of you could’ve been ‘drinking with rich people’ by now. you didn’t think you’d hear the end of her reaction to you rejecting connie.

a slight grin curled your lips upwards. you hadn’t seen ymir in about four days, and according to her, the two of you were long overdue for a hangout, even if it meant spending the night watching disney classics in your condo. a night out didn’t sound terrible, the longer you thought about it. you placed a hand on your hip as you rolled your neck. ymir was going to love this. “fine. what time does it start?”

“man, we should’ve gotten more shots from the liquor store. i’m not drinking lemon drops and pink whitney all night.” ymir dragged her words as she poured a second shot of hennessy into the icy blue liquid in her styrofoam cup. you shook your head, laughing as you watched her frantically mix the alcohol with the juice. she was going to be fucked up in a few hours, likely off the concotion she was mixing and the lemon drops she was complaining about. “i’m tryna get white girl wasted.”

“aren't you half white?” her piercing gaze locked onto you, glimmers of annoyance flickering in her eyes as you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

the air coming in through the windows of ymir’s jeep cut at the skin on your cheeks like daggers as you rested your head against the top of the seat, inhaling and exhaling at the refreshing feeling. despite the bass-boosted music that blared from her speakers and her somewhat reckless take on driving, the passenger seat of her car was one of your favorite places to be. ymir had picked you up around ten minutes after the clock read ten, after much relentless arguing over the phone about what to wear until the two of you were satisfied with your outfits. dressing up had always been a struggle for you, making it hard to step out of your comfort zone. thankfully, ymir was there to push you out of it. she had a job in tailoring for models who walked runways, a fact that shocked most people, so she thought of herself as a fashion guru or whatever. to be frank, you thought she just liked bossing you and her girlfriend around, but you’d never tell her that.

you adjusted the white, black lettered low-cut top that exposed some of your cleavage, the glitter from your body oil dazzling under the moonlight. it was ymir’s choice, alongside the laced-up jeans, snug on your thighs, and the open-toed black heels in the back of your closet. you’d taken down the braids in your head around a week ago, opting for straight, black bundles and a middle part. ymir had one up on you when it came to dressing, but accessorizing was your jam, judging from the blacked out watch on your left wrist, hoop earrings, the dainty chain around your neck, and the chrome clutch you brought, which ymir had no choice but to carry when you got tired of holding it.

the ride to the venue, which was a penthouse, was supposed to be a thirty-minute drive, but ymir made it more like twenty minutes, some unknown rapper's music blasting from her speakers and announcing your arrival. if you hadn’t known why you were there, you would’ve naturally assumed the scene was some gathering for celebrities. bentleys, bugattis, ferraris, and porsches parked alongside the designated parking garage that the security had guided ymir to. once the two of you entered the garage and got out of the car, you noticed hundreds of people hustling to reach the penthouse entrance. some had bulky men in black flanking them on both sides. sparkling chains and rolexes passed your wandering eyes in quick flashes as you ran your eyes over the familiar, but not closely known, faces. faces you’d worked with, faces you’d seen on tv, faces you had vinyls of in your place. it wasn’t like the block party, where maybe one or two famous people appeared. this was the real deal.

“come on, we’ve gotta get in there. i think i just saw rubi rose.” ymir smirked as she scrunched up the coils around her face, cockily peering at her reflection through her phone camera. 

"girl, bye, rubi is the last girl here checking for you." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, slapping your clutch against ymir’s chest. “i’m telling historia, by the way.”

the penthouse was simply the epitome of rich. the ceilings were as high as the sky, with dim lights and camera flashes illuminating the bustling setting. the pulsating beats of heavy rap music resonated through the sleek black marble floors as you and ymir stepped out of the penthouse elevator. one dollar bills and confetti practically covered your path as she naturally took the lead, gradually wandering into the deepening sea of bodies with you close behind her. eyes enlarging as you found yourself further into the depths of the crowd, the pungent aroma of sativa and liquor grew more powerful, thick swirls of white smoke floating beyond your height. you couldn’t begin to count the number of voices conversing and singing along to the music around you. there were sections reserved for specific people of importance, some containing a few social media influencers, while others housed those subject to the benefits of nepotism. frankly, you didn’t even know where ymir was taking the two of you. all sasha said was to ‘have fun’ and to ‘get out there’ regardless of her absence. 

a lengthy bar-sized counter was against one of the tall sides of the area, alcohol, blunts, pills, and half-drunk glasses crowding the space. the bar was abuzz with a lively crowd, intoxicated laughter and chatter filling the air as people jostled for drinks. you muttered a few ‘excuse us' as you moved through the bodies, eventually finding yourself and ymir a small area to situate yourselves in. you hopped on a plush bar stool, ymir using a hand to hoist you up as you almost stumbled. she stood close by you, watching for any eyes that lurked. it was the typical front she put up to scare off any men plotting against you. “‘mir, we should’ve stayed home. what the hell are we going to do here?” you shouted over the music.

“i don’t know, but we aren’t going home. i’m not letting you back in the house that easily,” her braces twinkled under the lighting. “i’m about to order us some drinks. you want a margarita or somethin’?”

you cocked your head to the side, shrugging. “strawberry with a lemon sugar rim.”

due to your introverted nature, you were sure you’d be dragging ymir out of the party thirty minutes in, usually not enticed by settings like the one you were in. well, that's what you thought.

you swayed your hips to the music surrounding you, the song now more melodic and sensual to accompany the way your body moved under the now fluorescent colors. little did you know, a multitude of eyes were drawn to you, enchanted by you like moths fluttering around a flickering flame. ymir was beside you, a glass of d'usse threatening to spill with her every movement as she inhaled the rolled-up plant between her fingertips, her presence no longer doing much to intimidate those around you two. you’d seen a couple of clients here and there, most asking about your next availability as ymir kept her composure on the outside, fangirling in her head. a few even flirted with her, boosting her giant ego. as much as you couldn’t believe it, you were having fun. not one but two margaritas have coursed through your bloodstream in an hour, providing you with the liquid courage you didn’t know you needed. the sweet shade of your brown skin glistened under the lights as your sobriety taunted you through slightly blurred visions. you looked good-you felt good.

ymir wanted yet another drink, but you didn’t complain because, as much as you exaggerated her actions when she was off that liquor, you knew she could handle her alcohol. you strutted towards the bar with a bit more pep in your step compared to earlier, unknown pairs of eyes watching the way your ass swam in your tight pants. ignoring the murmurs about how sexy you were from shameless partygoers, you patiently waited with ymir at the bar. however, the service wasn’t as quick as it was earlier.

“do you think they’d get us out of here if i jumped over the counter and made my drink?” ymir huffed as her eyebrows twitched in annoyance. “because this is some bullshit, bro.”

you giggled. “hell fuckin’ yeah. these people don’t play that shit.”

it was as if a heavy weight sat on your chest as your breathing became irregular, slowing then speeding up, tightening the muscles in your chest. it was hot. people swarmed the room like bees, and it wasn’t exactly the warmest month of the year, judging by the way heat blasted through the overhead vents. not exactly the best environment to get ‘fucked up’ in. you shifted your stance, feet uncomfortably squealing in the soles of your heels as you looked around for a spot, something colder perhaps.

“hey, ‘mir?” a set of glass-panelled windows caught your eye, and a set of open doors at the top of the staircase in the corner of the room. it wasn’t occupied like the bottom floor. it was practically empty up there. perfect, you thought. “i’m gonna go outside for a second. you see that balcony upstairs? i’ll be up there.”

ymir squinted suspiciously. “why, are you okay? what’s wrong? i’ll come with you–”

“‘mir, i’m fine, i promise. i just need some air, it’s hot as hell in here. i’ll be quick.” you reassured her, but that look of worry never faded from her freckled face despite your words.

“if you say so. i’ll come up there when i get my drink. you know the drill if anyone bothers you.”

it was as if you commanded the attention of everyone you passed as your heels clicked against the floor while strutting through the crowd. the noise faded as if you were underwater as you reached the top of the steps, a wave of relief washing over you as the chilly breeze bleeding through the doors brushed over you. you exhaled as you stepped onto the concrete leading outside. you assumed the strong smell of weed, heavier than before, was just the original scent of the city. practically everyone was out, and everyone was smoking weed.

outside, you leaned against one of the glass panels, smiling as your chest loosened, bathing in the little moonlight that could reach under the balcony overhead. it was a party, so you knew you wouldn’t be the only person outside looking for a getaway. a man, taller and lean, stood further to your right, raising a blunt to his lips every few seconds as he slouched against the brick wall placed along the walls of the space.

it was dark, with only the flashing lights from downstairs peeking over the second floor to provide illumination. still, you could make out a few details, like how the diamonds on his shoes shone, how his well-coordinated outfit complemented his relaxed posture. it may have been the alcohol delaying the speed of your thinking or the secondhand smoke, but you hadn’t noticed how familiar the tattoos that mapped his skin were, red and black dancing over his muscles as they flexed with the softest of movements. he didn’t seem to be paying any mind to his surroundings either, mindlessly gazing off into the night as the live activity of the city reflected off his hazel orbs. 

but it was when he finally turned his head, looking down at his shoes for a few seconds before lifting it for good, now looking at you. it had clicked when you stared at the vibrant burgundy of his overgrown, buzzed hair. at that point, you didn’t care that you were staring, even when his low eyes met your own. your body tightened, the tension from two weeks ago settling into you like an old house as you watched his eyes flicker over you. your face, your body, your outfit, your lips. his mouth twitched, once, twice, before turning upward, iced-out canines putting the stars in the sky to shame.

a thousand nerves ran up and down your back as your lips parted, words failing to fall off your tongue. but there it was, that raspiness laced between curiosity all over again, doing all the talking for you. “is that you, mami?” you swallowed the wad of saliva threatening to drip from your bottom lip as you shakily took a deep breath. it was him. connie fucking springer, again.

“hi, mr. springer.” you shyly spoke, turning your head so he didn't see how you smiled upon hearing the name.

connie freed a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, waving the scent away with his hands as he raised his chin, taking just a few steps closer to where your antsy body rested against the window. “i told you about that shit, girl. what you doin’ here? you came to see me?”

a light scoff blew from your mouth as you moved in your position. “boy, you wish. i needed some air, i’m not one of those fangirls in your section.”

“yeah, i do wish. i thought about yo ass for the rest of the day after we met.” you tried to busy yourself by focusing on the ground, but you could smell him moving towards you, his raw, husky scent oddly masking the weed that was all too powerful to ignore. the tips of his shoes lined up with yours. connie was close. he watched you shift below him, satisfaction soaking over him. “that’s not what i meant, though. what are you doin’ here with all these people? i thought this wasn’t your crowd, princesa. i would’ve found you again if it was.”

“princesa? that’s a new one.” you gazed up at him through faux purity, somewhat intrigued by the curiosity embedded in his tongue. connie was as handsome as you recalled, all confident and stoic in his way as he studied you all over again. liquid courage was a real thing, judging by the way you gradually swiped your tongue over the pink of your lips, lip gloss long gone. you lifted your chin, wanting to seem as tall and indestructible as he did. “i got an invite from a friend. she said I needed to let loose or whatever. this isn’t my scene, but i haven’t been having a terrible time.”

“yeah?” connie’s eyes were magnetized to yours as he reached above your head and drove the joint into the glass, putting the fire out before tucking it behind his ear. a bold smirk laid across his face as he towered over you, a shiver racing down your spine. his earlobes were adorned with an array of piercings, a striking detail you hadn't caught the first time you met him. 

you nodded as you crossed your arms. “yeah.”

“that’s wassup. i like that you tryin’ something new, especially if it means i get to see you again.” rolling your eyes, you shook your head as if his words weren’t meant to pry at the smile on your face. “you look real nice too. i almost forgot how fine you were, ‘s been a minute, eh?”

connie moved like he didn’t know what he looked like, and in the moment, it drove you crazy. he was the walking definition of charming with his inquisitive tone and decorated teeth, his presence alone being a problem of its own. but you knew he knew. he couldn’t help himself. “it’s been two weeks, con. you ain’t miss me that bad.” it was the liquor making you regret rejecting him two weeks ago, right? 

“shit, i gotta know you to miss you but we already had that conversation, ain’t we?” 

“why didn’t you ask eren for my number or even my instagram if i made such a big impression on you?” you were teasing, honestly. you didn’t think your small interaction with connie meant anything, but you were stalling for time, whether you wanted to admit it or not. you might’ve liked talking to him, as brief as the conversations were.

“because,” connie leaned down by your ear, the warmth of his words hitting your neck, melting your hard exterior like fire on ice. “i don’t wanna get it the easy way, i wanna work for that shit. i meant what i said, you a pretty ass fuckin’ girl and i’m tryna know you, but i have to earn it. no es cierto?”

his lips were close enough to hit your neck, positioned just below your sweet spot on your neck if he were to fall, and it had you trembling to say the least. you could hear how his teeth ground together as he stressed his words, voice deepening but still sounding as enticing as it did minutes ago. his accent was thicker than you remembered, the words you knew sounding foreign as they rang in your ear. lips parting, your tongue twitched helplessly inside your mouth as the words in your head failed to form. 

“what? cat got your tongue?

a series of vibrations abruptly drew your gaze to your phone in your hand, grasping your attention like a sudden jolt of electricity. your eyes widened as you gaped at connie before looking at your screen. three anxious coded messages from ymir lit up your screen, dancing in your notification center as an indication that she had managed to break through your do-not-disturb feature. connie didn’t have a care in the world as he looked down at the messages, laughing softly upon reading them. “cinderella’s gotta go?”

“oh, hush, boy. i told her i’d be a couple of minutes. i didn’t think i’d see you, of all people, out here. you were distracting me.” for the first time during your talk with connie, you were smiling with all your teeth, fueling his ego like gasoline to a fire.

“is that so? If i ain’t know any better, i’d think you were enjoying talkin’ to me, mami.” he had backed up a few steps, taking in your appearance from the ‘far’ distance.

“something like that.”

connie bit down on his bottom lip, hands cusping together as he twisted his rings up and down his slender digits, watching as you leaned against the door frame. your fingers grazed the cool glass of the open patio door while one foot rested inside the sleek penthouse, the other lingering on the balcony with him. eyes raking up and down the curves that entailed your figure, he let out a laugh that resembled something of yearning, throwing his head back. “is this goodbye, princesa?”

your gaze darted to the staircase just a few feet away, then back to connie, where you batted your lashes playfully. grasping the door frame, you let your hips sway enticingly as you glided toward him, embodying a sense of newfound confidence as you shook your head. connie arched an eyebrow, his arms crossed tightly as a look of interest spread across his face. you were closer than he was before, the mischievous fog of your intentions radiating from you as you locked your gaze with his. what he didn’t know was that you had tracked every move he had made during your time together, specifically when he moved his phone from his back pocket to the one in the front.

a grin nothing short of wicked took over your features as you lazily glided the tips of your acrylics against the metal and jewels embedded in his belt. he never once broke eye contact, but he could feel what you were doing in more places than one. you brushed your thumb over the detailing, your touch masked with innocence, yet lust was all around the two of you. hooking one finger into the depths of his pocket, you pulled out his phone and turned the screen towards him, waving it in his face until the device unlocked, and connie didn’t move an inch, intoxicated by the sheer sight of you.

you opened the phone, not paying attention to how his apps were childishly sprawled across his home screen as you clicked the green phone icon. the bright numbers on the keypad reflected off your eyes as you typed in your phone number, sending yourself a simple exclamation point so he’d later see you in his recent messages. you’d leave it up to him to decide what to save you as.

“i gotta go, okay?” with a playful laugh, you tucked the device back into his pocket, looking up at him with eyes filled with amusement. “bye, connie.”

connie stood frozen for a moment, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched you effortlessly spin on your heel, gliding away from him with effortless grace. the air crackled with an undeniable tension, thick and electric from the words left unspoken and the lingering glances. he felt a mix of shock and delight wash over him as he took in the sight of you, your demeanor carefree and confident, as if the moment weighed as much as a feather. as you walked away, his heart raced, and a foolish smile settled on his lips, knowing that somehow, something had shifted. “bye, [♡].”

“you’re not giving me enough details, [♡]. what did he say? did he ask you out? hello, i need more information–” ymir’s eyes practically popped out of her head when you informed her about your second meeting with connie, her nails digging into your skin as she held onto you for shock relief in the car. by now, you’d told her the story at least six times, yet she insisted that you had left out a detail or two, asking a question for every bit of the tale you told.

“ymir, i’ve told you everything from what weed it smelled like he was smoking to the tones he said everything in. what more do you need to know?” you yawned, rolling your eyes. the two of you left the event about twenty minutes ago, with ymir arriving at your condo faster than expected. you’d left about twenty minutes after your run-in with connie, who, strangely enough, was nowhere to be found for the rest of the night. you’d even started to wonder if you had imagined seeing him because connie was hard to miss. 

ymir put the car in park in front of the building you lived in, close enough to the door so that she’d be able to watch you get inside. she huffed and looked at you with a raised brow. “everything. you’re gonna be dating connie springer in a minute, i think this shit is important. think about the couple's interviews, oh my god–”

“that’s my sign to get my ass in the house. goodnight, ‘mir.” you opened the door of her jeep, ignoring all her protests but the one reminding you to text her when you were inside.

much to your surprise, you enjoyed your night out. You hadn’t expected to. It may have been cliche, but you were a homebody, unlike most people your age, who lived for a night out. any other time, you would’ve taken a night in watching glee or something over being surrounded by drunk celebrities, but you weren’t a party pooper. as early as three sips into your margarita, you were on the dance floor, dancing around the wealthiest people in the world with no care in the world, even though all that hopping around in four-inch heels cost you the ability to comfortably walk on your feet.

as you stepped through your front door, the enchanting scent of peony enveloped you like a warm, comforting hug, a sense of familiarity you had missed during your night. the heels had been off your feet the second you stepped into the carpeted elevator, allowing you to glide across the hardwood floors from your living room to the plush carpeting of your bedroom. you flung yourself onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, the fabric of your clothes clung uncomfortably as you sank into the soft mattress, closing your eyes for a second. your arms flailed across the soft silk comforter as you nuzzled your head into the mattress, eyelids getting heavier the longer you spent in the position, dozing off like a newborn.

a deep, lingering groan escaped your lips as your phone buzzed insistently against your chest, pulling you reluctantly from your sleep. one jerk, then two, indicating someone had texted you twice. your eyelids fluttered open slowly, a nasty scowl spreading on your lips as you snatched your phone from your bra. rubbing your eyes, not caring too much about messing up your extensions, as you squinted at the blue lights glaring at your retinas. not two, but four messages sat in your notification center.

the first two were from ymir, who cursed you for not telling her you made it inside and told you a passive-aggressive goodnight. sometimes you forgot to tell her you were in the house, it was just one of those nights. you huffed as you worked your thumbs to text her back a swift apology, telling her goodnight too before responding to the other messengers that had woken you from your sleep. an unsaved number sat at the top of your messages from around ten minutes ago, the area code and sender unknown.

(347) xxx-xxx

mami is it really u ?

a bit of your irritation faded as you realized who the message was from, smiling to yourself as you typed a quick response.

i don’t know, mr springer, is it?

it was late, one in the morning to be exact, so you didn’t expect an immediate response. he was likely still out clubbing, anyway. you exited the messages, looking for the last one you’d respond to before heading to bed for the night. you adjusted your eyes as you read the message, not paying too close attention to the sender before clicking the text. a line of inconsistent text messages was displayed across the screen, the last from over a year ago. your heart suddenly began thumping against your chest erratically, as if it were going to burst from your chest and onto your bed. lips parting, you sat up, your eyebrow supporting your body weight as your head nearly hung from your neck, jaw falling lower and lower.

it had been over a year since he last checked on you amidst his frantic football career. he was the last person you expected to hear from that night, as you anticipated a million messages from clients you met while out before receiving a text from him. aside from catching up, you figured there was nothing more to say as time passed. 

a ball of nerves threatened to burst from your throat as your breath hitched, rereading the text he’d sent you over and over again, as if you were convinced you’d imagined it.

ony. 

you looked good tonight, ian think i would see you there

exhaling deeply, your fingers shook, the phone wobbling as you typed.

you saw me?

one, two, three, four, five seconds.

ony.

hy i saw you.

you hard to miss mama

[possumnest]

book readers, i desire Book Recommendations❗️

pls share any good books featuring topics like death, time travel, aliens, any well executed sci-fi topic, difficult quests, mysteries, and unique writing styles/organization - fiction AND non fiction

below the cut r some of my favorite books ive read recently if u want vibes :-)

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell

Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman

Doomsday Book by Connie Willis

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K Le Guin

Chain Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

Body of Work by Christine Montross