vixenhotline

[vixenhotline]

Connie x nailtech!reader

synopsis • nailtech!reader has been slow in business lately and has decided to do a service for service deal. her friend slid up offering a lash deal in exchange for a full freestyle set. the day of appt she comes in with connie

includes • cheating + unprotected sex

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It’s been a slow week. Rent creeping up, acrylics collecting dust, and the inbox dry except for random spam messages and one DM from a familiar name—Tamia.

“Girl, you still doing that service-for-service thing? Lashes for nails?” She blinked at the message and typed back fast. “Hell yeah. Come thru.” Tamia was cool. Chill. Kinda loud, but always hyped up her nails on Instagram, so it was a win.

The day of the appointment came quicker than expected. She cleaned her little setup twice over, set the mood with her playlist bumping Jhené Aiko “Come on” low in the background, nails organized, gloves on deck. Her mood was somewhere between tired and just trying to stay afloat, but she was grateful for the appointment. Even more grateful for the story that was about to unfold.

Knock knock.

She opened the door and there Tamia stood, lashes done, energy high as always. But right behind her… was him.

Connie Springer. Buzzcut. Tall. Hands in his pockets, hooded eyes that looked like they knew something you didn’t. Every girl at school talked about how he got around—charming as hell, but not to be trusted. Yet, there he was, walking in behind Tamia like it was nothing.

“Yo,” he said, flashing a grin at her that lingered too long. “You the one doin’ her nails?” She looked him up and down. “Yeah. That’s me.” He nodded, then turned to Tamia, pulled out some cash, kissed her on the cheek with a smooth “Don’t take too long,” and look her way smirking on the way out like he knew she’d be thinking about that look later.

She cleared her throat and sat down at her setup. “He always come with you to appointments?”Tamia laughed. “Sometimes. Connie just be doin’ whatever.” Forcing a smile she started and focused on her work. As she cleaned, filed, and designed Tamia’s freestyle set, her mind kept flickering back to the smirk. The way Connie looked at her. Not disrespectful but not innocent either.

Taking a breath and blowing the speck of dust from Tamia’s cuticle, pretending like her hands weren’t shaking the tiniest bit. “Wanna go ombré or keep it solid?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. Tamia glanced up from her phone. “Let’s go ombré pink to white, real soft.”

“Say less.” She grabbed the powders, but her eyes drifted to the door again, still half-expecting to see Connie posted outside. What was his deal? That look he gave her smooth and cocky, like he knew she’d remember it. She hated that he was right.

“You alright?” Tamia asked, chewing gum loud and scrolling. “Yeah, just tired. Stop allat damn smacking,” focusing on blending the fade smooth as hell. They kept talking nail inspo, gossip, lashes. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her brain was stuck on that smirk. The casual way he kissed Tamia, then turned around and looked at Reader like she was next.

When the set was done, she snapped a quick pic, wiped off the excess dust, and handed Tamia the mirror. “Girl… this hard,” Tamia grinned. “I love it. You gon post it?”

“Yeah, I’ll tag you.”

“Bet. And I got you next week for lashes, right?”

“Yeah, Wednesday,” standing up to stretch. They hugged quick, Tamia walked out, and the door clicked shut. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

She grabbed her phone, cleaned her shop up a bit, grabbed her mini coach bag and walked to her car. Uploading the pic to her page, tagged Tamia, and tossed her phone on the passenger seat starting the car.

Ding.

She checked the screen.

@springer.c followed you.

@springer.c liked your post.

@springer.c liked your post.

@springer.c liked your post.

Three.

Oh.

She stared at the screen, biting the inside of her cheek. A slow smile tugged at her lips, even though she knew better.

He was messy. She wasn’t stupid. But… she was curious. So she followed back. One click. No message.

Yet.

She sat back, heart thudding a little faster than it should’ve, staring at his name like it was gonna say something. The “yet” was doing a lot of work in her head, but Reader brushed it off with a roll of her eyes and started her drive home.

The sun was setting behind thick clouds, staining the sky a moody gray purple as she pulled onto the main road. Her phone buzzed again in the passenger seat cupholder, the glow of another like lighting up the screen. She didn’t look. She didn’t need to. She already knew who it was.

He was consistent. Connie Springer, in all his quietly cocky, flirt-harder-than-you-breathe glory, had liked three more of her posts since she finished Tamia’s nails. Nothing bold no dm, no emoji eyes, no comments. Just likes. Strategic. Obvious. But vague enough to leave her feeling dumb if she called it out.

The wind crept in through the cracked window as she drove, fingers tapping the steering wheel, jaw clenched tighter than she realized. He was cute, yeah. Fine, even. And the way he’d smiled before walking out of her shop—lazy, dimples barely there, eyes knowing she felt that shit in her knees. But still. That was her client’s man. Her friend’s man. Kinda.

Wednesday came faster than she knew it she found herself lying back in Tamia’s lash chair, eyes closed, the faint scent of glue and soft R&B playing through the studio speakers. Tamia worked in smooth, confident motions, talking her through the process like always. It was easy, chill even a little comforting. The conversation moved from school gossip to business, then dipped into boy talk like it always did.

“I saw you followed Connie back,” Tamia said, casually, like she wasn’t dropping a lit match into the room. She blinked beneath the under-eye pads, heart skipping, the words sat heavy in the air, unspoken meanings trailing behind them. She cracked one eye open beneath the lash pads, lips already twisting into a smirk. “Girl, don’t start. He followed me first I just returned the energy.”

Tamia hummed. “Mm. That’s how it starts.”

“Maybe, but if it starts, it’s cause he wanted it to. Not me.” Tamia paused in her motions, then let out a dry laugh. “You bold.”

“I’m real,” she shot back. “Ain’t my job to babysit nobody’s relationship. If a man steps out, that’s on him. I just look good and mind my business.”

It got quiet after that, the R&B track humming low behind them while Tamia finished up. But the silence didn’t bother her not when she knew she’d said exactly what she meant. Because the truth was, she’d clocked Connie from the moment he walked into her studio. The way his eyes lingered, that little smirk he gave her before walking out. He wasn’t just being polite he was scouting. Testing. And if he wanted to play, she’d let him.

Not because she needed validation. But because it was fun. By the time she slid into her car, she had her mind set on going to this party her and Tamia had talked about during the appointment.

When she pulled up to the party later that night the night air was heavy, thick with bass thumping from the house down the block and the scent of cologne, weed, and too many egos crammed into one party. The house was lit, music spilling into the street, bass rattling the windows like it was tryna bust the foundation. Laughter and yelling from the backyard, bodies moving through the haze of porch smoke and LED lights.

She stepped out the car like she was meant to be seen. Hair laid, lashes fluttering, outfit hugging her right. The kind of look that made people pause mid convo and double take. She moved through the crowd like it parted for her, the energy shifting with every step. She came on her own timing for her own reasons and if he was gonna be there, then so be it.

And of course… he was. She saw him through the kitchen window first posted up like he paid rent, red cup in one hand, the other gesturing lazy while he talked. Connie Springer, tall, tatted, buzzcut gleaming under bad lighting. That grin hadn’t changed since he dropped Tamia off last week. Her eyes lingered for a beat too long before she moved inside, her steps calm but her chest lowkey fluttering. Not from nerves but that thrill. That danger. The kind you pretend you’re too grown for, until it’s staring you dead in your face.

He spotted her the second she stepped through the doorway. Locked eyes like he’d been waiting. Didn’t even hide the way his gaze dipped down and back up slow, hungry. “Damn,” he muttered, making his way over with a smirk pulling at his mouth. “You showin’ out or what?” She tilted her head, letting her glossed lips tug up just enough. “I don’t do it for y’all.”

He leaned in closer, voice lower now. “That what you tell yourself ma?” She just looked up slight smile on her face looking at him. “You alone?” She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Nah,” he said, smile growing. “Not really.” The tension laced between them wasn’t subtle. And when Tamia still didn’t show, and her cup was running low, and his hand brushed against hers just a little too easy she didn’t move away.

So when he leaned in and said, “Come outside wit me real quick,” she followed. When they got outside, by his car, with the music muffled behind closed doors and the cool night air buzzing on her skin, he turned, opened the passenger door for her, and said, “Just sit for a second. I ain’t tryna play you. I just wanna talk.”

She slid in. But when he climbed in too, the way his eyes landed on her like she was a secret he wanted to keep

Yeah… talking wasn’t really on his mind. She sat back in the seat, one leg crossed over the other, nails tapping against her thigh as she looked straight ahead. “You look good as hell,” he said, voice low, like he couldn’t help it. “Been tryna say that since you walked in.”

She smirked, but didn’t look at him yet. “You said that with your eyes already.” He laughed, that low gravelly kind, like it came from his chest. “Yeah… but I wanted to say it with my mouth too.” She turned to face him, finally, eyes lidded, expression unreadable. “What about Tamia?” The name sat between them like a dare.His smile didn’t fade, but it did dip just a little. He leaned against the driver’s seat, arm draped behind her headrest, his eyes never leaving her.

“She ain’t me and you.” Her brow raised. “What are we?” He didn’t flinch. “Something I been thinkin’ about since I saw you doin’ her nails last week.” A pause. “You bold,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. But her pulse was up now, high in her throat. “I’m real,” he corrected. “And I don’t play fake loyal just to keep peace. I seen the way you looked at me too, so don’t front.”

She didn’t answer. Not immediately. Because the truth was, yeah she had looked. Had felt that spark crawl up her spine when he smiled, when he handed over that cash like it was nothing and dipped out. And now he was here. Saying shit she shouldn’t entertain. But she didn’t move away.

His fingers brushed her thigh, slow and light. Not pushing just letting her feel it. “You want me to stop, say the word,” he murmured. She didn’t say a damn thing. Next thing she knew, his lips were on hers slow at first, tasting, testing. But it turned quick. Heated. Breathless. She crawled over to sit on his lap, one of his hands cupping her jaw, the other sliding up her thigh like he owned it. She kissed him back like she had something to prove, like he was an answer she didn’t need but took anyway.

And just when his hand dipped beneath her skirt and her breath hitched. He moved her black lace underwear to the side revealing her slick folds. “You always get this wet?” He said grinning. She tilted her hair to the side started to suck on his neck leaving love bites everywhere. Her hands moving down to his pants, sliding them down along with his Calvin Klein.

She looked down seeing the massive dynamite he was packing starting to get a little hesitant. “You never answered my question baby.” He said while slamming her down on his dick letting out a groan as he bottomed out. She (s)creamed managing to get out a small no as she tried to hide her face in his chest.

He grabbed her by the neck with his hand with enough strength to make her look at him as his other one was settled on her hip moving her up and down. Her moans gradually getting louder as he starts moving her faster.

Stopping out of nowhere he leans over to grabs a rolled up blunt and starts to light it, inhaling and blowing the smoke in her face. “Ride that shit baby, don’t be scared.” Setting his hand on her ass smacking it one time as she started finding her rhythm. the sound of his dick sliding in and out is pornographic.

“Fuckkk you feel so good baby.” she said throwing her head back feeling the heat rise in her stomach. Connie looked at her knowing she was reaching her peak hitting the blunt one more time before setting it down on the ash tray.

He grabbed her hips held her still in the air and started thrusting up into her at a rapid pace. She put her hand on his stomach trying to ease his pace, he slapped it away continuing his ruthless attack. “Cum for me baby, I’m right behind you.”

“Con- Connie I’m cummingg~” she screamed as she came down from her high squirting, wetting the both of them and his leather seats as his pace slowed down as he came inside her trying to contain his moans that he was letting out.

He pulled out, leaning his head back against the seat, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling hard. She was still on his lap, thighs trembling, lips parted like she couldn’t catch her breath, like the air was too thick to breathe right. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, and Connie had one hand resting heavy on her thigh. Everything was too quiet for a moment. Just the soft fog of their breathing and the faint hum of music leaking from the house party outside.

Then

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“OPEN THIS MUTHAFUCKIN DOOR!”

The glass shook with each hit, her acrylics tapping wild against the window like gunshots. Tamia was outside in full rage mode edges sweated out, lashes crooked from the tears she probably cried while stomping across the damn lawn, and she wasn’t just mad. She was livid.

Inside the car, she sat up fast, trying to fix her skirt, Connie’s hands still lazily sliding off her thighs like nothing happened. He didn’t even look surprised just leaned back like this had happened before.

“Connie!” Tamia screamed, yanking at the handle. “You in there wit this dirty-ass bitch?!” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smoothed down her hair, and opened the door like a damn movie scene slow and deliberate. “What’s good?”

Tamia’s face twisted. “What’s good?! Bitch, you got my man’s d—”

“Your man?” she cut her off, stepping out the car like she wasn’t half-naked five seconds ago. “Tamia, don’t even act brand new. That man been in everybody’s phone but yours.” Tamia lunged. “You a fake-ass HOE! You sat up in my face did my nails—smilin, knowin you was fuckin him?!”

She dodged the swing and grabbed Tamia’s wrist mid-air. “You need to take that energy up with him, sis! You brought him to my shop like a flex. I just returned the favor.” Tamia snatched her arm back, voice cracking with rage. “Nah, bitch. That’s foul. You knew what you was doin’. You BEEN eyein him!”

“And you BEEN ignorin the signs. You walked into my appointment with a community ass nigga and thought you was the exception?”

“I WAS YOUR FRIEND!”

“You wanted pretty nails and a safe place to vent, not the truth. Now here we are.” Tamia’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her lip quivered like she wanted to cry but the anger swallowed it whole. “You dead to me, for real.” Connie finally stepped out, zipping up his pants like he hadn’t just set two girls off in his car. “Tamia, chill out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Connie!” she snapped, spinning on him. “This what you on?! After everything?!” He just shrugged. “You wasn’t actin’ like my girl yesterday.”

“Fuck you.”

“I already did,” she muttered. Tamia turned, eyes blazing. “Oh, you real bold now.”

“Bold enough to take what you kept fumbling with,” she replied cold, chin tilted. “You let a man treat you like leftovers and mad I wanted a fresh bite.”

Silence.

Then Tamia laughed. She straightened her purse strap, wiped her face, and looked her dead in the eye. “Cool. Just remember you gettin’ the same nigga that did me dirty. Keep that seat warm.” She turned and stormed off. She watched her go, arms crossed, heart still pounding. She slid back in the passenger seat like nothing happened, tugged her skirt down a little, and shot Connie a sideways look.

“You gon’ just let her blow your whole night like that?” he asked, one brow raised.

She scoffed, snatching the blunt from his fingers like she paid for it. “Boy, please. That girl don’t move me.” She sparked it back up, took a long pull, and blew the smoke dead in his direction. “She the one mad. I’m chillin. Do you see my face cracked? Nah.”

Connie laughed, eyes low, watching her with a grin that said he liked this version of her way too much. “Damn. You kinda dangerous.”

She turned toward him, one leg tucked up on the seat, her acrylics clicking against the window as she flicked ash out. “Kinda? Nah, I’m pressure, baby. Ask about me.”

“Believe me, I don’t gotta ask nobody,” he said, leaning a little closer. “You already told me everything I needed to know.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smirk gave her away. “You flirtin or you tryna distract me from the fact your lil situation just went full Jerry Springer outside this car?”

He grinned, leaned back. “Both.”

She laughed loud. “You stupid. But you cute, so ima let you rock.”

“Damn right.”

She hit the blunt again, exhaled slow, and passed it back. “So what now, Mr. Casanova?”

He tapped her thigh, real casual. “Now I take you home. Maybe we grab some food on the way. And maybe, just maybe… you let me see you again when this mess cool down.” She looked him over, lips pursed. “Hmm… I do got a lil gap on Wednesday.” He chuckled. “Say less.”

He started the car, windows still halfway down, smoke trailing out as they pulled off from the curb like they didn’t just set the parking lot on fire. Her phone buzzed with some messy DM notifications, but she ignored it, feet on the dash, vibe too chill to ruin. “Play sum,” she said, reaching for the aux.“Only if you don’t play no corny shit.”

“Boy, shut up. My playlist better than yours.” as Bria’s Interlude started playing. They peeled off into the night, loud music thumping, and weed in the air.

[vixenhotline]

i love being a little freak on tumblr nobody can stop me

[vixenhotline]

I just know she’s bad

⁀➷ INTRODUCING… BITCHY!KOOK!READER

BITCHY!KOOK!READER who is your classic spoiled princess who wants things her way. In Kildare she’s at the top of the social chain and thrives on the power it brings. She has many connections, some she’s formed from being Rafe’s girlfriend and others with her own charisma and ability to make things work in her favor.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER is practically the female version of Rafe. She’s fucked in the head, dark, twisted, and a master manipulator. She doesn’t seek out violence, however she isn’t afraid to cross the line if it means protecting her image, family/friends, or Rafe.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER who unlike her boyfriend is very calculated and deliberate. She believes everything she does is justified so she never feels guilty about it. For Rafe, she’ll do anything, even commit murder. Her loyalty is dangerous, it’s all-consuming and knows no limits.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER who is sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and unafraid to put someone in their place—especially if they challenge her authority.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER has the ability to be soft but only towards the people she loves. Her circle is very small. She chooses her friends wisely, not wanting many people around her because of the delicate details of her life.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER is always meticulous about covering her tracks. Her charm and reputation as figure eight’s princess serves as her greatest alibi—who would ever suspect her of such violence?

BITCHY!KOOK!READER who is always one step ahead, knowing exactly how to twist situations to her advantage. Whether it’s spreading a rumor or playing people against each other, she’s a master at pulling strings behind the scenes.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER loves spending Rafe’s money and keeping hers in her pocket. She likes to buy lingerie and velvet nightgowns because they make her feel more sexy in bed, and she likes using them as leverage to make Rafe do what she wants like getting off the stupid game or not going out with his friends because she wants his attention to only be focused on her.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER who has an eye for fashion. She’s always wearing the latest fashion. Whether it’s shoes, clothes, or jewelry, before they can hit the shelves they’re already in her closet. She loves wearing ‘Donna Born In Roma Eau de Parfum’ by Valentino because she believes it makes her smell rich and expensive.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER who is obsessed with rafe just as much as he’s obsessed with her. Her jealousy is intense and she’s very territorial. Her relationship with Rafe is volatile, but it’s filled with moments of undeniable chemistry and traces of toxicity.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER matches Rafe in every way, especially when it comes to the bedroom. With both of them having enlarged egos, there is almost always a power struggle, one trying to dominate the other, but neither of them mind letting the other win because they know by the end of the night they’ll have each other worn out.

BITCHY!KOOK!READER is definitely a brat. She can’t help it because the trait is coursing through her veins and pops up anytime she feels provoked, good thing Rafe is known to be a brat tamer and loves putting her in her place.

— works coming soon!!

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If you want to be tagged in bitchy!kook!reader’s works click here!

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