Zo

today’s first excursion is mount batur. the air is warm and humid, thick with the scent of earth and distant incense from nearby temples. volcanic steam rises in soft curls against the bright sky as your group makes its way up the trail. you’re practically glowing beside him, eyes wide with curiosity, leggings hugging your curves and one of his oversized shirts tied at your waist.

the tour guide some tall, friendly guy with an easy smile keeps talking, pointing out different rock formations.

“mount batur is still an active volcano,” he explains. “it last erupted in 2000, but the caldera lake below us is over a thousand years old. the balinese people consider this place sacred home to the goddess of the lake, dewi danu.”

you tilt your head, genuinely fascinated. “wait, so people actually cook breakfast with the steam from the volcano?”

the guide laughs warmly. “yes! you’ll see when we get closer to the top. the locals use the geothermal heat to boil eggs and even make babi guling sometimes. it’s one of the coolest things about living near an active volcano.”

“oh my god, that’s so cool.”

eren glances over at you. you’re asking question after question, completely in your element, and the guide is happily answering every single one. he can’t even be annoyed at that. you get excited over everything, and it’s one of the things he loves most about you.

still…

the guy sure is smiling a lot.

the trail gets steeper. loose rocks shift underfoot.

“careful,” the guide says, reaching a hand toward you as the path narrows. “this part can be tricky. the volcano’s last major eruption in 1963 actually reshaped a lot of this landscape.”

before eren can step forward, you’ve already taken the offered hand for half a second to steady yourself over the uneven ground.

“…thanks!”

“my pleasure.”

eren stares at the back of the guide’s head.

really?

he knows it’s literally the man’s job. he knows. doesn’t mean he has to enjoy watching another guy hold your hand even for a second.

i was right there.

i have hands too.

very capable hands.

you dust the dirt off your leggings and continue walking like nothing happened, already asking another question about the temple at the base of the mountain and its connection to the volcano’s spiritual significance.

eren catches up quickly, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you a little closer than necessary.

the next day, eren told himself yesterday was just yesterday.

one overly friendly guide. a coincidence. that was all.

today would be better.

you guys are visiting uluwatu temple dramatic cliffs, ocean views, and ancient balinese architecture perched high above the sea. the air smelled like salt and frangipani, and the sun warmed everything in that perfect bali glow.

eren wanted to enjoy it. he really did.

but the moment the new guide greeted the group and somehow ended up walking right beside you within the first five minutes, that familiar pout started creeping back in.

“…and this part here,” the guide said, smiling warmly at you, “is one of the oldest sections of the temple. it survived multiple earthquakes and even a major fire in the 1800s.”

you looked up in awe, eyes sparkling. “seriously? it’s still standing after all this time?”

“it is. the balinese believe the gods protect it.”

“that’s so beautiful.”

eren watched the exchange from half a step behind.

of course.

you asked another question about the monkey forest nearby and the temple’s connection to the sea goddess. the guide answered enthusiastically, walking a little closer than eren liked.

you smiled.

the guide smiled back.

eren looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose.

not again.

as the group continued through the temple grounds, he caught more people glancing your way. some looked twice. one guy nearly walked into a low stone wall because he was too busy staring. another tourist fumbled his phone while looking at you trying to take it out of his pocket.

eren sighed internally.

i know she’s beautiful.

trust me. i know.

but does everybody else have to know too?

without saying a word, he slipped his fingers between yours, holding your hand a little tighter than usual.

you looked over at him. “hm?”

“nothing.”

“you sure?”

“yep.”

five minutes later, his arm had found its way around your shoulders. a few minutes after that, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek while the guide was busy explaining another shrine.

you laughed softly. “what was that for?”

“felt like it.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’ve been really clingy today.”

“i have not.”

“you literally haven’t let go of my hand since we got here.”

“…it’s crowded.”

“eren.”

“what?”

you smiled to yourself, squeezing his hand. “you’re jealous.”

“i’m observant.”

“mm-hmm.”

“i’m protecting my wife.”

“from who?”

he glanced around at the handful of tourists pretending not to stare, at the guide who kept finding reasons to talk directly to you.

“…everybody.”

you bit back a laugh, leaning into his side as you kept walking. eren’s arm stayed firmly around you, his thumb brushing your waist in slow, possessive circles.

he knew he was being a little ridiculous.

but with the way the sunlight kissed your skin and the ocean breeze played with your hair, making you look like you belonged on the cover of a romance novel… he couldn’t help it.

my wife.

mine.

and he was more than happy to remind the entire island of that today.

back at the villa, the afternoon light filtered softly through the open balcony doors, carrying the sound of waves and the faint scent of frangipani.

eren had already showered. he sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but loose black shorts, elbows on his knees, replaying the last two days in his head.

she’s beautiful. of course people look.

it’s not her fault.

it’s really not a big deal… right?

he tried to calm himself down. people look at pretty women. that’s just life. as long as no one actually approached her she was his wife, after all it shouldn’t matter.

but the more he thought about it, the more it irritated him. the smiles. the lingering glances. the way that guide kept finding reasons to stand next to her.

damn.

he ran a hand over his face, sighing.

the bathroom door opened.

you stepped out, skin still glowing from the shower, wrapped in a soft white robe. your boho braids were pulled up into a bun framing your face. you looked effortlessly beautiful relaxed, warm, and completely his.

eren lost his train of thought completely.

“whoa…”

you caught his stare and smiled, tilting your head. “what?”

he didn’t answer right away. just drank you in. then he leaned forward a little on the edge of the bed.

“come here.”

you walked over slowly, stopping between his spread legs. eren looked up at you like you were the only thing in the world.

“wow,” he murmured, hands sliding up the back of your thighs.

you leaned down and kissed him softly. he kissed you back, deep and slow, one hand cupping the side of your face.

you pulled back just enough to tease, “you like what you see?”

“yeah… i do.” his voice was low, sincere. “i love what i see.”

you raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “you don’t feel any type of way anymore?”

eren let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “hell no. i know i see you every day. i know i’m the one married to you.”

“mhm. thought so.”

you kissed him again, deeper this time. eren groaned softly into your mouth, hands tightening on your thighs. as the kiss grew hotter, you stood up straighter between his legs. he reached for the tie of your robe and gave it a gentle tug. the robe slipped open and fell to the floor in a soft heap, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“oh my gosh…” he breathed, eyes roaming over your body like he was seeing you for the first time. “baby…”

you giggled, feeling both shy and powerful under his gaze. you pushed gently on his chest until he leaned back on the bed. then you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap.

eren’s hands immediately went to your ass, gripping firmly as you leaned down to kiss him again. the kiss turned messy fast tongues sliding, breaths mingling, little moans escaping. you started grinding slowly on him, feeling how hard he already was under the thin fabric of his shorts. he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and the friction made both of you groan.

“fuck…” he muttered against your lips, hands squeezing your ass as he guided your movements, rocking you against him harder.

you kept grinding, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles while making out with him like you had all the time in the world. his shorts did nothing to hide how much he wanted you. every roll of your hips pulled desperate little sounds from both of you.

eren kissed you like he was trying to pour every bit of that lingering jealousy and love into it deep, hungry, and completely wrapped up in you.

you kept grinding on him, rolling your hips in slow, teasing circles, feeling how hard and ready he was beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. the friction was driving both of you crazy.

with a soft, mischievous smile, you reached down and tugged his shorts down. eren lifted his hips to help you, groaning as his cock sprang free, thick and heavy against his stomach.

“oh shit…” he breathed, eyes dark as he watched you.

you wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly a few times before lining him up. you sank down inch by inch, gasping at the stretch. he was so big you had to pause halfway, breathing through the intense fullness, adjusting to the way he filled you completely.

“easy, baby,” eren murmured, hands gripping your hips. “take your time. that’s it… just like that. you feel so fucking good already.”

once you were fully seated, you stayed there for a moment, both of you breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. then you started to ride him.

slow at first. deep rolls of your hips that had you moaning softly. eren groaned, head falling back against the bed as he helped guide you, hands squeezing your ass.

“fuck, look at you,” he rasped, voice low and wrecked. “riding me so pretty. you like how deep i am, baby? huh?”

“yes… oh my, eren,” you moaned, eyes rolling back as you picked up the pace. every bounce sent sparks through your whole body. he felt incredible thick, hard, hitting every perfect spot.

he started helping you more, bouncing you on his dick with strong hands, thrusting up to meet you. the wet, filthy sounds of skin slapping filled the room along with your moans.

“that’s my girl,” he groaned, eyes locked on where you two were connected. “look at you taking all of me. so wet… so fucking tight. you’re creaming all over me, baby. shit.”

your head fell back, moans getting louder as the pleasure built fast. eren sat up slightly, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, sucking on your neck while he fucked you harder from below.

“you close already?” he whispered hotly against your skin. “i can feel you squeezing me. go ahead, baby. cum on this dick. let me feel it.”

you came hard with a broken cry of his name, body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed through you. eren groaned at the feeling of you pulsing around him, but he didn’t stop he fucked you through it, drawing out every last tremor.

before you could catch your breath, he flipped you over onto your back. he hovered over you, eyes dark and hungry.

eren pushed back inside you in one smooth thrust, your legs folding up toward your chest as he leaned over you. he started pounding into you deep and hard, the new angle making you see stars.

“oh—” you moaned, hands flying up to grip the back of his neck. his head dropped to your shoulder, lips brushing your skin as he fucked you relentlessly.

“feel so good,” he groaned against your neck. “this pussy is mine, baby. all mine.”

your moans turned into desperate cries. the pressure built fast again, overwhelming and intense. eren could feel it the way you clenched around him, the way your nails dug into his shoulders.

“you’re close again, aren’t you?” he panted. “go ahead, baby. cum for me. squirt on this dick. i want to feel it.”

you came hard, squirting around him with a loud, broken moan. your whole body shook as the orgasm ripped through you. eren pulled out just in time, stroking himself fast as he watched you fall apart.

“shit—fuck, you look so good,” he groaned, head tilted back, muscles flexing as he stroked himself over you.

he came with a deep, guttural moan, thick ropes of cum landing across your breasts and stomach. he kept stroking himself through it, breathless and sexy, until he was spent.

for a moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing.

eren looked down at you, eyes soft and full of love despite the heat.

“damn, baby…” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you slow and deep.

eren pulled back from the kiss, breathing hard, eyes soft and full of love as he stared down at you. for a second, everything felt perfect just the two of you, tangled and warm.

then you wrinkled your nose.

“ew, eren,” you laughed, pushing lightly at his chest. “wipe your cum off of me. i literally just showered and now i’m all sticky!”

he blinked, then burst out laughing, the sound deep and genuine.

“my bad, baby,” he said, still chuckling as he went get a warm cloth in the bathroom.

“i got you.”

he cleaned you up carefully, gentle and thorough, pressing soft kisses to your stomach and between your breasts as he went. once you were clean, he went into the bathroom washing the cloth hanging it ,he came back laying on the bed next to you

holding you close against his chest.

you nestled into him, legs tangled, one hand resting over his heart.

after a comfortable silence, you tilted your head up. “you not jealous anymore?”

eren smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “nah. i’m good.”

“you sure?”

“yeah. i know who you come home to every night.”

you both stayed quiet for a moment, just enjoying the sound of the ocean outside and each other’s warmth.

then eren’s voice broke the silence again, a little too casual.

“…but real talk though. did you think that guide was cute?”

you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes wide. “eren! oh my gosh.”

he grinned, trying (and failing) to look innocent. “what? i’m just asking.”

you laughed, swatting his chest. “you are so annoying. no, i did not think he was cute. i was literally just asking questions.”

“mhm.”

“you’re jealous again already?”

“i’m not jealous,” he said, pulling you back down and burying his face in your neck. “i’m… observant.”

you giggled, wrapping your arms around him tighter. “yeah, okay, observant.”

eren smiled against your skin, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“that’s my wife,” he mumbled happily.

The deep, guttural rumble of his pickup truck tearing through the gravel drive is a warning, a proclamation—he’s home. Your spine straightens before you even realize it, ears attuned to the familiar sequence of his arrival—the creak of the screen door, the slam, the heavy thud of boots being kicked off near the welcome mat.  

Except today—silence. 

No boots. No pause. Just the hurried, uneven thud of his footsteps, heavier than usual, more urgent. A shiver races down your spine, instinct flaring before you can even turn—  

And then him.

Big. Encompassing. Swallowing you whole.  

His heat presses into your back, rough hands gripping your hips like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. You don’t need to look up to know his expression—you feel it. The tension coiled in his muscles, impatient huffs against the curve of your throat.  

“You scared me,” you whisper, voice trembling just slightly as your fingers lift, clawing back into the wild strands of his hair—midnight black, nearly blue in the dim light. It’s longer now, unruly, a messy tangle between a wolf cut and a short mullet, the front nearly falling into his eyes. Your nails scratch lightly at his scalp, and he exhales sharply through his nose, his apology a low, graveled grunt against your skin.  

“‘Couldn’t get to you fast enough." 

You know him.  

His anger, his irritation, the frustration clings to him like a second skin. It seeps into you like ink in water, dark and suffocating, a storm barely contained beneath the surface. Your body responds before your mind can catch up—arching back into him, your pulse fluttering beneath his touch. 

That’s when your hands shift, turning you just enough in his grasp to catch his gaze—and the moment you do, the world narrows.  

Those eyes. 

Deep gray, like storm clouds rolling in over the pasture, narrowed and restless beneath the weight of his scowl. His brows—thick, dark, almost severe—are knit together, tension carved into the space between them. At thirty two years old to your twenty nine? The years have only sharpened him, etching his features with an intensity that makes your breath catch. A full blooded Japanese man raised in the heart of the South, he’s a walking contradiction—heritage and home clashing in the best ways.  

And today, every inch of him shows it.  

Dust clings to him like a second skin, ground into the fabric of his filthy wifebeater, streaked across the navy and black flannel rolled up to his forearms. His tattoos—a sprawling canvas of ink swallowing his egregiously broad frame—peek out from beneath the dirt, the edges of them smudged with the day’s labor.  

Head ranchmen. Raising livestock. Wrestling miles of fencing. Hauling hay, operating machinery, fighting with the land and the heat and the men under him who can’t keep up—it’s all written across the stars. His muscles are still coiled tight, his jaw working as if the frustration hasn’t fully left his bones.  

And yet, god, he’s yours.  

The scent of him—sweat, leather, and something wild washes over you, a pheromone laden reminder of exactly who you belong to.  

You reach up, thumb smoothing gently between his furrowed brows.  

“You okay?”

He exhales sharply, "M’alright. Always doin’ this, woman. Thinkin’ I’m about to cry."

A laugh bubbles in your chest, but you press closer instead, fingers trailing down to cup his jaw.  

“My soul’s with yours," you remind him, tilting your chin up despite the height difference—“I know when you’re sick before you do—" 

He grunts at that, but there’s no real irritation behind it. Instead, he ducks his head, nudging his nose against yours in a rare moment of tenderness, the gesture contradicting every rough edge he wears so well.  

Toji’s head dips low, those storm gray eyes scanning you with the kind of focus that makes your pulse flutter.  

You stand there in white fuzzy socks, swallowed whole by the oversized replica of his flannel—the deep blue of it sharp against your caramel skin, sleeves slipping past your wrists, the hem hanging dangerously high on your thighs.  

And as your husband, he knows what’s beneath. 

The way your waist cinches in like a damn hourglass, unnaturally narrow compared to the flare of your hips—so wide, so heavy it looks like you’ve carried a child before. The ass that fills his palms perfectly, fat, jiggling with every step. And those tits—full, heavy, sitting high like they belong on a sultry pin up poster. His name—Fushiguro—in tiny cursive beneath the curve of your left breast, a claim he never gets tired of seeing.  

Your fingers drag gently through the hair at his nape, nails scratching lightly as you murmur, “Yumi missed you.” 

His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, calloused and rough—“‘Momma missed me too?”

You nod, just slightly, tilting your head with those fox eyes of yours—narrowed, knowing, stripping him bare of any lie he could try to spin.  

“Tell me what happened at work.”

His brow twitches, “You tellin’ me?”

You don’t argue. Just raise your brows, waiting.  

A beat. Then, with a sharp exhale, it spills—

“Men actin’ like goddamn children. Argued with me ‘bout the fence line—then one of ‘em nearly flipped the ATV ‘cause he wasn’t payin’ attention. ‘Whole damn day wasted fixin’ other people’s—” His voice deepens, slipping into sharp edged Japanese, “…Nande kon'na baka-domo to issho ni hatarakanakya naranē nda? Mattaku, kuso jikan'nomudada.” 

Why the hell do these idiots work for me? Total waste of fuckin’ time.

You stand on your tiptoes, pressing your thumb between his brows again, smoothing the crease there as you answer him—fluent, just like he taught you. 

“Son'nani ikatteiru to, fukeru no ga hayamarimasu yo.” 

You’ll age faster being so angry.

He pauses, nostrils flaring—before he lets out a sharp exhale, forehead dropping against yours.  

"...Goddamn, woman. ‘Always knowin’ how to shut me up.” 

You hum, pressing closer.  

“So that’s why you keep me around?” 

“Nah. Keep you ‘cause you’re mine.” 

You hum, fingertips tracing the corded muscle below his neck, your touch featherlight. 

“Did talking about it help?" 

His jaw flexes, “You want me to lie?" 

“I’d rather you be honest, Fushiguro.” 

A rough exhale escapes him, “I’m on the news tomorrow? ‘Know I killed one of those bastards." 

You know he doesn’t mean it—but the frustration is real, simmering beneath his skin like an untamed storm. So you tease just a little, trying to loosen the tension coiling in his shoulders—“Fussier than a baby, ‘swear." 

That gets you a glare—"Nowhere near a damn child."  

You react before he can pull away, fingers tangling in the dark strands of his hair, holding him just firm enough to ground him.

“Hey," you murmur, voice softening, “I was just pokin’, love. Yeah?" 

He stares down at you, that perpetual scrawl of his features more habit than anger now. After a beat, he nods.  

You press on, voice a gentle lull. 

“Rough days are inevitable…but there’s your favorite meal to look forward to. And cuddles from me an’ Yumi." 

His expression doesn’t change.  

"Or," you offer, tilting your head, “I could rub your ear  ‘like you like?” 

Something shifts in his gaze then—dark, heavy. He looks at you—really looks. That sweet, sultry face he’s seen crumble beneath him, twist in pleasure, pout in frustration. It all hits him at once, a wave of something possessive and hungry that makes his fingers flex against your waist.  

And in response?  

“Yeah." 

A single word. Deceptively simple.  

Because you did rub his ear, sure—but what you didn’t expect?  

Was ending up bouncing stupidly on his cock in the process.  

Now, here you are—hair a mess of copper, cinnamon, and black curls, wild like a halo around your flushed face, the flannel hanging open, barely clinging to your shoulders. The fabric dips, revealing the sinful swell of your tits, the heavy weight of them barely contained by the parted material. Your fuzzy socks—adorable, ridiculous in contrast to the filth of this moment—curl helplessly into the bedsheets as you struggle to steady yourself.  

Your thighs ache, burning from the relentless pace he’s set, but you barely feel it. Not when he’s got his hands wrapped around your waist, his fingers so big they nearly touch when he grips you—effortlessly hauling you up, then slamming you back down, forcing you to take every inch of him.  

“F—Fushiguro—!" 

You choke on his name as he pulls you all the way up, the slick length of him just about to slip free before he yanks you back down, letting his dick carve straight into your g-spot with every punishing thrust.  

And the worst part?  

He hasn’t even undressed.

Leaned back against the vintage headboard, still in his dirt-streaked wifebeater—tugged halfway up to reveal the hard planes of his abs, ink-dark tattoos trailing down the cut of his V-line. The roughness of his pubic hair grinds against your clit with every brutal snap of your hips, the friction almost too much, threatening to push you over the edge before he even lets you.  

And his face— 

Dark brows pulled low, storm gray eyes locked on you with an intensity that borders on cruel. He watches you with that same scowl, like you mean nothing to him in this moment—just a warm, trembling hole for him to use, fucking you with ruthless precision.  

He leans back, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you again, dragging you down onto his cock with a sharp snap of his hips.  

“C’mon," he growls, voice rough with restraint—“Keep fuckin’ feelin’ me.”

You’re silent—trying to be—but your pussy isn’t.  

Loud. Obscene. Creaming around him in thick, slippery pulses, gushing with every brutal snap of his hips. The sound of it—wet, filthy, shameful—fills the space between your ragged breaths. Your lips stay pressed together, but your expression betrays you—eyebrows pinched, a cute little frown twisting your face as pleasure burns through you, sharp and unforgiving.  

Discomfort. Overstimulation. The kind of pleasure that hurts, that makes your toes curl and your stomach clench. Because god, the way he stretches you—thick, unrelenting, carving into you like he was made to ruin you.  

The worst part? He knows.  

Knows that in places where you’re soft, silent, observant—here, like this? You’re a mouthy little thing when he gets you there. Which is exactly why he cocks his hand back, fingers tangling in the back of your flannel, yanking you down harder on his cock before—  

SMACK. 

The sharp, stinging crack of his palm against your ass echoes through the room, your flesh jiggling from the impact, the heat of it blooming fast.  

“Ain't hearin’ shit from you," he growls. 

“C’mon. Gimme’ somethin’.”  

The rough clap of your thighs against his hips—hard, frantic, skin slapping skin—does something to you. Your eyes flutter shut, your fingers sinking into his forearms, claws digging in as a whiny little cry punches out of you.  

It’s a domino effect afterwards. A whimper slips free, trembling, desperate, and then another—another, slurring into heavier, broken whines, like you’re trying to swallow them back every time they threaten to escape. But you can’t. Not when he’s like this—when his thighs are so thick, his grip so bruising, when he makes you fuck him like he hates you.  

“There it is,” he grunts, fingers tightening around your waist, hauling you down harder, heavier. 

“‘Know my wife more than anyone in this fuckin’ world.”

You're an eye-rolling, pouting, mess. 

His mess. Your pussy keeps gushing, clenching forcefully around the thick swell of his cock, kicking off a series of unfinished, half-shattered orgasms that leave you spiraling—dizzy, overwhelmed, ruined.  

Tears brim your dark, pretty eyes, lashes sticking together as broken little whimpers spill from your lips.  

“I'm—‘M cumming.” 

But Toji? He doesn’t stop. 

His grip tightens, digging into the softness of your hips as he finds a devastating new rhythm. Slower now, but heavier. Louder. Each deep, punishing thrust drags a wet, filthy sound from where you’re stretched around him, the slap of skin echoing through the room.  

And the scent of him—god. 

Woodsmoke, leather, the erotic musk of a hard day’s work still clinging to his clothes, swallowing you whole even as he lounges beneath you, lazily using your body to chase his own pleasure.  

“Wanted me to feel better, ‘ain’t you?" 

His palm lands against your ass again—hard—the sharp crack reverberating through your bones before he spreads you open with that same rough hand, exposing your flushed, dripping cunt as he starts fucking up into you with renewed force.  

“Gonna fuck you ‘til every nut makes me less angry," he grunts, fingers biting into your flesh—“Had a hard fuckin’ day, remember?" 

You lean forward, sniffling pathetically, nodding in meek submission—like you’ve lost a game you never even meant to play.  

“Okay," you squeak, voice surrendering, small.  

His teeth flash in a wicked grin.  

“Atta fuckin’ girl." 

And then he takes—pounding up into you with a brutal pace that has you muffling trembling little moans into the crook of your arm, body jolting with every deep, claiming thrust. 

Toji slides his broad palm against the top of your head, fingers threading through your curls as he tilts your face up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. 

“You here with me?" 

You nod, and that's all he needs before he tugs you forward by your hair, sealing your mouth with his in a deep, tongue-filled kiss. It's filthy, possessive, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he pulls back just as swiftly.  

And then—SMACK. 

His palm meets your cheek with enough force to make your breath hitch, just sharp enough to snap you back into focus. 

“Fill your fuckin' mouth up.”

You sink down instantly, taking him between your lips with breathless little whimpers, your lashes fluttering as you suck him in deep. You pull back just enough to kitten lick along his length, teasing the flushed tip before swirling your tongue around it. Then lower—sucking his heavy balls into your mouth, your fingers lightly jerking the base of him.  

It's adorable in the most pathetic way—how easily you obey when you're usually all quiet fire and defiance. But like this? You're truly his.

Toji watches as you work him over—his cock glistening with your spit, your lips stretched around him. Then he takes himself in hand, slapping his length against your flushed cheek, dragging it over your lips with a filthy, wet sound.  

“Look at you," he grunts, voice rough with satisfaction.  

And he does look—drinking in the sight of your dark, caramel skin flushed raw, your pretty eyes swollen with tears, your lips parted and trembling. It makes him crave more.  

“C'mere," he growls suddenly, gripping your waist before flipping you both in one swift motion—your back now pressed to his chest, his thighs bracketing your head as he maneuvers you into a 69. 

The second you're settled, he buries his face between your thighs with a groan, his tongue devouring you. You gasp, trying to refocus, wrapping your lips around his cock again—but it's impossible to concentrate when he's sucking on your clit like he's starved, his tongue dragging hot and wet through your folds, slurping obscenely. Your hips jerk, back arching as pleasure zings through you, your forehead dropping against his hip as you whimper around him.  

“Focus, baby.”

He mutters this against your cunt—right before his hand comes down on your ass again, the sharp SMACK making you jolt.  A broken moan slips past your lips, and then you're bobbing your head faster, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him back into your mouth with desperate, sloppy devotion.  

And Toji?  

He just feasts—grunting, licking, taking—his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks his tongue inside you, making sure you feel every second of it.  

You don’t stand a chance.

The air is thick with the sound of skin on skin, your breath ragged and wet as you lose yourself in the rhythm of him. You move without thought, drunk on the taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue—both palms wrapped tight around the base of his cock, jerking him from root to tip in slow, filthy strokes. Your tits bounce with every movement, swaying heavy and lewd as you work him over in a way that’s downright pornographic, your body moving like it was made just for this.  

Toji’s hips twitch, his breath catching when you suddenly take just the head of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the swollen tip while your small hands take care of the rest. His head knocks back against the headboard with a low groan, his voice rough, strained, as he mutters something under his breath—half curse, half praise—before his hand comes down again, another sharp SMACK landing on your ass.  

“Edge of the bed. Now.”

You crawl there on shaky knees, face pressing into the blankets, ass up—presented, waiting—and before you can even brace yourself, he’s sinking into you, stretching you open in a way that punches a muffled whine from your throat. His fingers tangle in the nape of your hair, tugging just enough to make your back arch as he yanks you back onto him, filling you to the hilt with a single brutal thrust. Your face stays buried in the blankets, lips pouting, muffling little whimpers and breathless complaints—but they’re weak, half-hearted, lost in the haze of pleasure as he starts moving, fucking into you with rough, measured strokes.  

“Fussin’ just like Yumi," he growls, voice thick as you tuck your face deeper into the sheets, hiding the way your cheeks burn. 

“Tch—feet closer to your chest.”

He rasps this, voice gravel-scraped and impatient. You whimper but obey, knees pressing tight to your body, hips lifted higher—exposed, helpless. Then, in Japanese, sharp and commanding—

“Jibun no handan de ugoite kudasai.”

Move on your own. 

And you do.  

At first, it's slow—tentative—your hips rocking back and forth in small, uncertain motions, your body arching as you try to find the right angle. The sight of you like this—spread open, trembling, taking him—is obscene. Erotic in the rawest sense.  

His fingers snap once, sharply. Another order, another growled phrase—“Head up.” 

You just obey, lifting your face from the sheets, breath ragged as you look back over your shoulder at him.  

“If you don’t move, I’ll show you how I wanna’ be fucked.” 

You pout—lips trembling, eyes wet—but then you start moving again.  

Little bounces at first, your ass clapping lightly against his hips—gentle, testing. Then deeper. Faster. More. Until you’re fully fucking yourself on him, your body taking over, driven by instinct, by the need to please. His fingers tighten in your hair, holding you in place as you pant, as you whimper—  

“…M’sorry, baby." 

It slips out without thought, weak and breathless.  

Toji only grunts, “Yeah?” 

You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. But you say it again, lips quivering. 

“M’sorry—"

You’re squirting. 

A hot, sudden gush, spilling around him without warning, your body convulsing as pleasure rips through you. The words turn into something else—deep, shuddering sobs, your voice breaking as you keep repeating it, "M’sorry, m’sorryyy...” 

Your husband? He could care less. 

Toji fucks you through it. His grip on your hair tightens, his hips snapping up to meet yours as you sob, as you tremble, as you fall apart. 

Because this? This is how he takes his anger out.

The world narrows to nothing but the brutal snap of his hips, the sound of skin meeting skin in sharp, wet slaps. Toji yanks your legs out from under you, planting your feet flat on the floor—forcing your spine into a deep arch, your ass tilted up just right for him to sink into you even deeper, each thrust punching the air from your lungs.  

You can’t help the noises that tear out of you—loud, broken, punched out moans that rise higher with every merciless drive of his cock. His fist tightens in your hair so everlasting, wrenching your head back as he growls above you, the sound rough and satisfied—because nothing pleases him more than hearing you unravel, your voice frayed beyond coherency.  

Your fingers clutch at the sheets, knuckles white—until he tsks, a single sharp sound of disapproval that has you scrambling to correct yourself before he can fuss. Arms straight back, wrists together, like you know what he wants without him even saying it.  His free hand wraps around both your wrists in one brutal grip, pinning them against the small of your back as he drives you into the mattress, fucking you so deep you squeal, high and desperate, your body jerking beneath him.  

“Fuckkkk…!” 

It’s a shriek, really—raw and guttural, your cunt gushing around him as he pistons in and out, his grunts syncing with your cries in a filthy, primal rhythm. He’s not gentle. Not close. Every snap of his hips is punishing, claiming, his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside you until you’re keening, your thighs shaking, your mind gone beneath the sheer intensity of it.  

And then—  

His rhythm stutters.  

A deep, guttural growl rips from his throat, his fingers tightening hard in your hair as he buries himself to the hilt, spilling inside you in thick, pulsing ropes. Your sounds drown his—whimpers, choked cries, the way your body clenches around him as if trying to milk every last drop.  

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of heavy breathing—his, yours—both ragged and uneven.  

Then he slowly pulls out, leaving you limp beneath him, your lower body trembling, your nerves still alight with aftershocks.  Toji catches his breath for a beat—just one—before he leans down over you, his voice rough but soft now, murmured against your ear in Japanese.  

“Daijōbudesuka?”

You alright? 

His hand cups your throat from behind, tilting your face toward his. And then—kisses. Tiny, chaste pecks against your swollen lips, one after another, as if checking that you’re still with him.  

You let out a breathless little giggle, your lashes fluttering.  

“Mmm...legs feel numb." 

He hums. 

“They should.” 

The moment his hands twist you around, your breath catches—but it melts into another light giggle as he scoops you up effortlessly, depositing you onto the bed like something precious. The sheets are cool against your overheated skin, a stark contrast to the burning imprint of his body still lingering on yours.  

And then he looks at you. 

His fingers slide through your hair again, slower this time, almost reverent, before his mouth finds yours in a kiss that’s startlingly gentle. You nudge your nose against his, affectionate, lingering, before you pull back just enough to murmur—  

“…‘Gonna have a better day at work tomorrow?" 

Sweet. Hopeful.  

Toji rumbles, the sound vibrating deep in his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead—“Already havin’ a better day now." 

Your eyes dilate at that, lashes fluttering as you whisper—"Really?" 

“Murder’s still in question for ‘them employees, though.” 

Your face falls immediately, lips pressing into a pout as you sigh, long suffering. Before you can protest, his palm lands on your thigh—a light, teasing smack—and then he’s pushing off the bed, leaving you sprawled there. You scramble to grab his discarded flannel, draping it over yourself like a makeshift shield before flipping your hair back with an exaggerated huff.  

“You’re hardheaded!” 

“Got a hard head, baby.” 

You suck your teeth. 

But then? he reappears in the doorway, Yumi cradled in his big arms. 

The whiplash of it nearly gives you an actual headache. One second, he’s got you bent over the bed, fucking you like you owe him money, and the next? He’s holding that Persian kitten like it’s spun glass, cooing at her in a voice three octaves higher than you’ve ever heard come out of his mouth.  

You roll your eyes so hard you swear you see your own brain.  

“You don’t talk to me like that.”  

Toji ignores you, of course. Because why would he ever acknowledge the way your metaphorical tail is swishing back and forth in irritation? He’s too busy booping Yumi’s tiny pink nose, murmuring, “Momma’s the fussy one, isn’t she? Yeah?" 

“Boy, please. I don’t win the hot head award. You’re an overachiever for that score." 

He just smirks—smirks!—as he sets Yumi down on the bed, watching with that stupid, smug expression as she prances toward the headboard like the little princess she is, tail held high as she lets out a dignified Mrrow. 

One second you’re lounging there, all sass and post coital glow—the next, he’s on you, knocking you flat onto your back in the sheets with a oomph that dissolves into breathless giggles as you shove at his chest.  

“Go away!"

He doesn’t.  

“You know how much I love you?"

You tilt your head, pretending to think. 

“Not sure."

The air between you shifts—just for a heartbeat—from playful to something deeper, something heavier. His rough fingers catch yours, and he brings your hand up, pressing a slow, almost reverent kiss to the gold band on your finger. Against the metal, he murmurs something low and raw—something that sounds suspiciously like—“Mines forever." 

You sigh, but it's a warm sound, your fingers curling around his, intertwining like they were made to fit there. Playfully, you squeeze.  

“Hungry?"

He exhales through his nose, “Been thinkin' about those red beans all day."

You bat your lashes, feigning innocence. 

“I wasn't part of the meal plan?" 

His thumb drags over your pulse point as he leans in, breath hot against your ear, “You were the meal plan."  

Then, just like that, he's hauling you up—one arm under your thighs, the other bracing your back as he tosses you halfway over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. You yelp, but your legs lock around his waist instinctively, arms looping his neck as he starts moving.  

“C'mon. I'm starvin'."

You press your lips to his jaw, nipping just to feel him tense—“You're starvin’, and you love me?" 

He grunts—but for him? It’s not a denial. It’s yes, a thousand times over. 

the way you smiled with your hg.

your laugh.

your voice.

the way your outfit and accessories complimented you to a tea.

y’all’s had brief eye contact as you passed by his table to get to your own. like very brief. damn there a blink. but shi, you looked at him? and he looked back at you too?

connie stared too long, eyes traveling on you as you make it to your friends table to sit down. and when one of homeboys followed his line of sight from his sudden wave of quietness . pheww his ass was

cooked

“ohhhh” his homeboy ony dragged out

”so you gon keep looking or…?”

connie couldn’t do nun shake his head and fight back a smile. “man chill out”

“nah nah- i ain’t tryna disrupt your sight seeing.” ony teased taking a sip from his cup.

“wasn’t gonna let you no way” connie said, side eyeing ony as he just teasingly smirked. “aye she is fine, so i’m on your side there..but”

connie gave him questioning look, making ony roll his eyes. “so you gon just sit here and watch her?.” ony said, taking a sip from his cup as connie debates his next move.

“i mean she with her hg? you want me to just barge in on they hangou-“ right when connie was speaking a man greets you and your hg and takes a seat.

ony gave a now what look towards connie after watching the interaction. “mmcht- man that could be they friend or some shit” connie muttered slightly irritated. but suddenly you wave your self off to your friend and get up, ony and connie watch carefully for your next move. and when you start walking towards the bar, connie could almost jump of joy and started to get up himself.

“aye con where you going?” one of his teammates asked beside him as connie watched you at the bar.

“to get a drink.” he muttered, barely glancing back at his friends. ony just laughed, sharing a knowing look with connie teammate. “ohhh so now you thirsty?” ony teased him.

this time connie just rolled his eyes with a smile at his teasing, and started walking towards the bar where you sat. he knew ony was just talking shi cause there were literally drinks at their table he’s barely touched.

but noo he want to drink next to the woman who barely even batted an eye his way all night.

and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do

ೃ༄

you starred at the menu trying to decide what to order, finally picking something and scrolling on your phone as you wait. kiana was still at a table behind you, but sitting by yourself for a couple seconds wasn’t an issue, as your hg gets lost in conversation with some dude she was excited about meeting up with

mindlessly scrolling on your phone waiting for your order you didn’t even realize the presence beside you.

“just a whiskey.”

a deeper voice next to you said, and when you turned to even catch a quick glance at who it was, the man was already looking your way.

connie made it all the way up to you. sat down next to you. watched you half of the night, and when he’s finally in your face…

he’s lost of words

“you uh- you been waiting long?”

he said glancing at the bar before looking back you at. you just huffed a sigh “not really, i just ordered actually.”

yeah connie actually knew that already, but hey whatever kicks starts a conversation right?

“besides, i’m giving my homegirl a couple minutes alone with her man that’s really not her man.” you say, glancing back at the two before fully turning your full attention to connie.

and you were not expecting the man sitting beside you to look the way he did.

his buzz cut slightly grown out a little and slightly curling at the nape of his neck, his hazel eyes were staring back at yours, he had white tee on that fitted him just right, along with a light beige jacket with matching light beige pants.

connie just let out an airy laugh at your statement, his dimples making an appearance with his smile.

oh he fine fine

but when connie eyes wandered to where your friend was he damn there choked on his spit. your homegirl was sharing lovey dovey eyes with someone off of another team he’s played. hell they’re basically rivals.

connie was mentally shaking his head before turning his attention back to you, “that’s nice, seems like they’re enjoying it.” he murmured teasingly, making you laugh a little.

“overly enjoying it, she doesn’t even know who he is for real.” you say shaking your head at the fact, while connie thinks twice about what you just said.

“so you don’t know who he is?” connie said, cause he’s sure pretty sure a good amount of people in this lounge knows exactly who that man was.

“nope. never seen or heard of him in my life” you said and connie just starred at you with a silent victory, because if you don’t know who he is….

“soft serve margarita for y/n?” a bartender called out, sliding your drink to you. “that will be me! thank you.” you said with a sweet smile. (i knowww yall seen them soft serve margaritas bro)

“that’s a cute name.” connie blurted out as you dipped a spoon in your drink. “thank you. that’s what my mama would like to hear” you said back making connie bite back a smile, “and your name?” you asked him as the bartender came to give him his drink.

“whiskey for con- hey don’t you-“

“thanks man.” connie cut him off and gave the bartender a silent look that screamed not now, and with that the bartender went the opposite way

“it’s Connie”

he responded to your question before you could comment on the blunt interruption. and there was a beat of silence after he said it, and he was slowly losing hope in his quick conclusion.

“connie..” you repeated his name out loud. “so like..is that short for something..or?..”

then you don’t know who he is.

and to say the least.

his prayers have been answered

“nah. just connie.”

connie felt like someone should pinch him right now, as this moment was too good to be true.

ೃ༄

the more you two talked the more connie created a more simple identity. something that screamed connie but without all of the glamour of fame.

“sooo you mean to tell me you chaperoning for your hg and there’s no type of double date?” connie questioned you as he took another spoonful of his soft serve margarita you convinced him to get as well.

you just silently shook your head yea, while connie stared at you for a good minute. “so..no dude gon come around this corner n try n beat my as-“

“nobody gon touch you connie. ian got a man. how many times i gotta say that?” you cut him off making him before he can start, causing him to laugh at you.

“first off, yo secret man wouldn’t be able to touch me” connie said with sass, making you laugh. the sound filled connie’s ears with pride, as he’s the one who got it out you. connie was about to zone out again, but this time right.in.front.of.you

the beat of silence of connie being in deep though had you confused.

“uh connie?”

“do you understand how pretty you are ᧔.❀.᧓ ?” connie said right after you, almost cutting you off but still giving your concern a chance to get out.

“boy wha-?”

“i’m just saying” connie shrugged with a smug smile making its way across his face in hopes of covering up how wrapped around your finger he is. “cause i know if i was given the chance to be anything, i would take it” said looking at you as your eyes shyly averted to the slightly empty glass in front of you.

connie leaned his head down to try and catch your pretty eyes again. “baby, look at me.” connie murmured. when you finally glanced up, letting your face rest in the palm of your hand as your elbow sits on the bar island. “so this ain’t your chance?”you asked curiously, making connie immediately lock tf in.

“only if you give me one” he simply responded not letting up on his opportunity.

well shit.

“alr then.” and with that connie got up to his full height, putting his hand out for you to grab. letting the conversation take y’all anywhere throughout the lounge.

ೃ༄

you and connie were now walking around the lounge chatting amongst each other. getting to know each other a little more, each new discovery about each other shocking the both of you.

yall settled on the outside area where it’s a bit more quiet, but still different conversation going on around you both.

 and the more you glanced around the room you could spot more couples in each other spaces in every corner of the room. you mentally laughed at the position you and connie were both in currently.

his arm was currently resting behind you on the back of the couch, thighs at a respectful distance, as you both find a comfortable silence that wouldn’t last for long. he was scrolling on his phone checking something before his phone ringed and he quickly declined it. and the caller wasn’t a scam call.

you noticed that, but didn’t bring it up.

“this feels a lot like love island”  you said suddenly making his head turn to you.

“love island?” 

“yesss” you reponded “youn see all these different couples damn there breathing on each other like they just met the love of their life 3 hours ago??”

connie looked around the room to see what you were talking about. in one corner a couple was making out, another corner two people were holding hands as they talk to each other, rest of the room area was a mix of that and normal interactions. connie guessed the setting out here felt a little romantic??

“soooo, the whole show be like this?” connie asked after taking in the touchy couples and glancing back at you, his mouth already set on saying some bs as he wait for your response.

“ i mean the show probably worse, but you get the gist of it” you said leaning back, his arm grazing the back of your neck. connie just hummed in response.

“soo what...you tryna couple up with me? I mean with all the lovey dovey island shi goin on i thin-“ 

“boy-“ you cut him off laughing. “your so- no.”

he just shrugged “shi- you brought it up?” he said in defense, which made you turn to him to point a playful finger at him 

“I said it felt like love island. aint say nothing about me.” connie leaned down to yout finger, acting as if he was about to bite it before you yanked it away. 

“AYE-“

“mhmm.” connie’s phone started ringing again, his personal team manager at that. but right now he is connie with no relations to football, nor trying to insert that in his head during his down time. especially with you. but you’re already growing a little suspicious about his phone ringing.

you just rolled your eyes at him “that’s exactly why you would get voted off.” you said, making him show a mock of offense. “ you would be right behind me if that’s the case” connie said, making you disagree immediately. “uhnt uhnttt. atleast i don’t ignore people” you responded, connie just gave you a confused facial expression 

“what you mean???” he said after hitting decline on his phone to stop the ringing for the third time.

“how many times you gon decline that call hm?” you asked, connie just smoothly slides his phone back into his pants pocket and shrugs “mann- im sure they didn’t want nothing..besides ion wanna interrupt our conversation.”

you deadpanned at his response as he just stares at you, as if his eyes read

what you want me to do?

“ okay. well what about when the bartender was tryna say some earlier?” You questioned making him raised an eyebrow at you. “uhh..what they was tryna say?”

you just rolled your eyes “yea you getting voted off immediately” connie was about to respond before his phone ranged again, you were just staring at him  and motioning him to answer his phone. Connie just answers and raises the phone to his ear

“yooo?” 

“Ive been trying to get a hold of you for 2 hours! did you not see my text about-“ but connie’s manager was cut off by him in attempts of cutting the convo short

“I’ll check it in a few”

“HEY? what’s with the rush- im literally trying to help cover your ass about YOUR training, for YOURRR big game coming up. would you rather get scolded by me or cussed out by your coach?”

of course connie mentally thought as he held the phone to his ear, mindlessly listening to his manager go off in a very professional manner despite connie’s dismissive mood.

“I didn’t forget!, I promise you, I’ll look at the message.” he said in hopes she would drop the soccer conversation all together. his slight frustration not going un noticed by you, but you busy yourself with the anything but him as he talks on the phone.

“ I know this isn’t your favorite part of the job. just when you get a chanc-“

“I know.” he just simply said making his manager sigh and say her goodbyes. she knew how over connie was with the media and soccer promo for the upcoming game, but was it really that bad?

connie put his phone back in his pocket and for once tonight he was snapped back into reality about his chaotic and time consuming life.

“you okay?..” you asked looking at him, his eyes snapping back towards your face. “I am now that I’m off the phone you wanted me to answer sooo bad” he teased making you playfully push his shoulder.

and suddenly connie felt back at peace. there was no way he was letting you get far. not after tonight.

maybe he could tell you his true identity and you’ll be okay with it? maybe this could be more than what it is? or maybe his grand idea is just him being delusional.

“can I tell you something?” connie asked, maybe the drinks were giving him a foreign confidence? or better yet you were.

“yea what’s up??” you said waiting for his next words. for a moment connie opened his mouth and closed it in the same beat.

Helllll no. He was definitely still a little nervous. there’s no way you would just go with it …or would you? connie just say it. i’m in sports, that was actually my publicist blowing up my phone, your homegirl date is a total loser, and i don’t know how long i can control myself befor-

“I pla-“

suddenly his words were cut short when your hg and her date came aka his rival walking outside. hand in hand. “GIRL you ready to go? It is getting a little late.”

yea. this shit couldn’t get any worse till now.

now you and connie stood in front of the two. you and kiana were completely oblivious to the connection the two men had.

now the two men stood in front of each other. kiana was tucked under the man who’s name you can’t remember, meanwhile connie had his hands in his pockets while you stood next to him.

“yea if you’re ready to leave we can.” you said glancing at the two that are attached to the hip. kiana’s date glanced at you and then looked at connie, who was already trying to figure out how to handle whatever his rival was about to say. but his rival had other plans.

“didn’t think ill run into you tonight.” his rival said, making connie nod his head slowly as he can already see that his rival has already read the room about you both being clueless about the messy connection the two have.

“oh yea?..” connie said in a dry curious tone making the man in front of him huff a laugh at the calm irritation building up in connie.

“yeah.” the man said with a smirk. “besides it’s good to have a little down time once in a while right?” the man said making connie just hum in response. you and kiana felt the vibe change as you both share glances. connie could see his friends watching him from afar, as they all knew the tension could possibly get worse.

“well it was good seeing you connie.” his rival said as he can feel connie’s friends burning multiple holes through the back of his head. “you too.” connie responded back as he watches the man get ready to turn to leave as kiana follows behind him muttering she will be at the door when you were ready as she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“uhh should i be concerned?? what was all that about? you didn’t tell me you knew him.” you said in a whisper to him as all his mental irritation starts to fade as he looks down at you. “i didn’t realize i knew him till after the fact. but it’s all good either way.” connie said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly because out of all people why did he have to run into him out of all times.

“mmcht okay then.” you said before you both started to slowly walk towards the entrance. but every step was slow in attempt of saving the little moment yall had. “ also, what were you trying to tell me earlier?” you asked making him halt his steps, halting your own after noticing the tiny distance.

“uhm it wasn’t anything major for real.” connie said, lying through his teeth as he watched you squint your eyes curiously at him. “you sure? it sounded kinda important…ish?” you try to reopen the conversation again.

“i was just wondering if ill ever see you again.” connie muttered lowly, looking down at you with a glimpse of hope and a story he will never hear the end of to tell if anything from this night make it out these lounge doors. his confidence daring to shrink the longer you drag the silence between you to out, until you started laughing, making him confused but still hanging on to his chance even though he feels that he’s slightly made a mysterious fool out of himself tonight.

“no i wanna end whatever connection we got” you said in a dramatic mock tone, watching as the sheepish grin makes its way to his face.

“of course. i would like that.” you tell him in a genuine tone, which makes him takes his phone out as you do the same to exchange numbers. with the exchange part going well, connie mentally feels like hit the jackpot after retrieving his phone from you and giving yours back. “soo.. see you soon?” connie says as he watches your phone glow with a phone call. “yea.” you say as you both start to stand lingering infront of each other before bursting into a mutual laugh.

connie leaned down to give a simple kiss on your head and a quick hug that filled your nose with his cologne before you both parted ways and you made your way to the door where kiana waited for you at. kiana and you shared a look before giggling outside the lounge.

ೃ༄

the car ride from the lounge was mostly a big debrief about the two boys of the night. “i don’t know girlll i think you should get on that! i meannn he definitely didn’t waste a minute getting on you.” kiana said as she drove to place you were both staying at since this was a girls trip between the two of you. who would’ve known the boy she spontaneously met on a dating app would’ve also possibly help spark something in your love life.

“he’s sweet, i just need to get to know him more i think” you say as kiana rolled her eyes before a thought popped in her head “that is true… cause how does my man know your man?” now it was your turn to roll your eyes

“he’s not my man-“

“soon to be husband.”

there wasn’t a point of arguing with kiana. but the question did have you wondering. connie was acting a little weird you guessed? but them knowing each other and the tension..?? yea now that was something to question about.

as you and kiana made it back and settled in, heels somewhere on the floor and outfits exchanged for something for comfortable. the both of you chit chat about each other interactions at the lounge.

“these pictures are so cuteee.” kiana says referring to the pictures you both took before going to the lounge. “girl yesss we need to post them” and before you knew it you and kiana were picking out yalls favorite pictures to post. but as you open instagram and post the pictures tagging kiana as she did the same on her page, you stopped mid scrolling as a suggested account with a very familiar name pops up.

“girl i think i just found his insta? i think it’s probably cause his number in my phone or??” you say turning the phone towards kiana as her eyes shine with excitement “CLICK IT?! we can literally see what type of person he is if he has any post” and as you hesitated, kiana snatched your phone and clicked it for you.

but her expression is what scared you cause her smile dropped a little, her facial expression turning more into a shocked one. “GIRL WHAT IS IT? you’re not saying anything?!?” you ask her, daring to peak at your phone and see.

“i mean it’s definitely him. BUT YOU COULDVE TOLD ME HE WAS IN SPORTS?!” she says and that made you give her a questioning look cause what? before you can ask kiana turned the phone towards you. “girl he’s like big time i think!? i’m not into sports like that but im pretty sure this is like big right? i mean look at his followers!” the bright screen couldn’t be more clear and the way he was acting started to make a little sense. his page was filled with event post, training videos, interviews your assuming was from the different events.

this was too much to unfold in a couple seconds about a man you just met out of pure convenience

suddenly your phone vibrated with a text from him as it was in kiana’s hand while you both freak out sitting on the couch of the condo you both rented out for this trip. you guys weren’t gonna be here long and now your telling me the guy that kept me company half of the night is a whole soccer player…and said nothing.

in all honesty you didn’t know what to do or if you should open his message. “girl- hey look at me! we’re gonna figure this out.” kiana handed your phone “text him back and tell him you made it home.” and you did tell him and handed your phone back to her as she just laughed “mannn- this explains EVERYTHING. wait what about your date? didn’t he tell you he was in sports too at one point” you questioned kiana as she leaned back into the couch as if she figured out the last piece to a mystery “he did but never clarified which one..” she trailed off before looking at you “what if their both in soccer? and that’s why they had that weird exchange?”

you nodded in agreement because i mean what else would it be? “i would assume unless it’s deeper than we think? we won’t know nothing until something is said.” you added as kiana thought in silence before coming up with an idea

“let’s plan a date at the same place and confront them.” you knew kiana had wild ideas and this one had you a little nervous.

“BITCH HELL NO!” “BITCH HELL YES!”

you and kiana stared at each other before you groaned and leaned back into the couch “i like the idea but this can get messy fastttt” you huffed a sigh “shit and? they had a chance to explain” kiana said, which was true. “you’re right. both they asses can go down if they want to.” you and kiana both laugh “OR! what if we see how long it takes for them to tell us?” you mention another idea that has kiana taping her chin in deep thought “now THATS messy” kiana said making you both burst into laughter

“bitchhh nobody would believe the shit that happened today if we told em.” kiana says as she gets up and prep for bed as you do the same “that’s why this whole situation will be perfect for 2 truths and 1 lie.” and the idea sparked both of your heads before you knew it before you both burst into screams “BITCHHH we should do that as a game when we get them in the same room!!!” kiana says as you beam at her idea “YESSSS” you both eagerly got ready for bed (in reality to stay up and plan this bs) and prepare for the eventual idea to take place

either yall were both messy…or this girls trip was about to be the most memorable trip yet

but one game won’t hurt?

right..?!

gon head n cuss me out for the wait 🥲 but i hope yall enjoyed this as i wrote it a while back while adding to it. i honestly don’t know wtf i wrote 💔

yk how you get obsessed with another fandom and start reading and do more reading than writing + enjoying summer before your next college semester starts? 😭yaaaa that was me and apologize😣

hopefully i didn’t miss too much over here cause my ahh been watching love island and binge watching all these new prime shows LMFAOO likeee what yall been up to?? also somebody tell tumblr to give the side blogs the same features as main blog like wth🙄

my lil ask me box is open so yk talk to me, ask me questions, im also open to other fandoms just lmk which ones you wanna see and i’ll lyk if ive heard of them.

masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred

connie had always been hardworking.

from the day you met him, there was something magnetic about the way he talked about music. his eyes would light up, voice animated as he described layering sounds until everything clicked into place. music wasn’t just a hobby for him. it was something he lived and breathed.

that passion was one of the first things that drew you to him.

usually, being in the studio with connie felt alive. he’d bounce in his chair, humming half-formed lyrics, pulling you over every few minutes to listen to a new tweak in the beat.

“you hear that?”

most of the time you didn’t. but you’d still listen as he explained it with that bright, excited energy that made your chest feel warm.

tonight was different.

the studio felt colder than usual, the air conditioning humming steadily in the background. half-empty energy drink cans cluttered the desk, and the same drum loop had been playing on repeat for what felt like forever. connie sat hunched forward, staring at the glowing screen like it had betrayed him.

you watched from the couch in the corner, curled up with your legs tucked beneath you.

he dragged both hands down his face and groaned.

“nope.”

the beat cut off abruptly.

“that’s the fifth time in ten minutes,” you said softly.

“because it sucks.”

“it doesn’t suck, connie.”

“it does.”

he spun around in the chair, frustration etched across his features. the usual spark in his eyes was missing, replaced by exhaustion. his jaw was tight, shoulders drawn up, the creative joy that normally filled the room nowhere to be found.

this wasn’t just about a stubborn track. something heavier was weighing on him.

you set your phone aside and stood, crossing the small space until you were behind him. your hands settled gently on his shoulders. the muscles there were rock-hard with tension.

“con.”

he barely glanced up from the screen.

“hm?”

“you need to relax.”

“i’m trying.”

you squeezed his shoulders lightly.

“no, you’re not. you’re stressing yourself out.”

connie sighed, long and heavy, finally leaning back in the chair. you took the opportunity to slide onto his lap, straddling him comfortably and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. his hands found your waist instinctively, warm and familiar.

the studio fell quieter around you, just the faint hum of equipment and the distant city sounds outside the soundproofed walls.

“what’s really on your mind?” you asked, voice soft as you started massaging the knots from his shoulders.

he exhaled, head tilting back against the chair.

“everything feels wrong tonight. the melodies, the layers… nothing’s clicking. i’ve been here for hours and i’m getting nowhere.”

“you pressure yourself too much, connie. you’re so talented. i’ve watched you pull magic out of nowhere a hundred times. you’ve got this.”

he let out a quiet breath, some of the tension easing under your hands and words. his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer.

“i know… it just gets in my head sometimes.”

you smiled softly and pressed a lingering kiss to his temple.

“i know it does. but you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. the music will still be here when you’re ready.”

for a long moment he just held you, breathing you in, the frustration slowly melting into something warmer. you felt him relax beneath you, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your hips.

you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, voice dropping a little.

“i can help you relax, if you want.”

his gaze darkened, a slow, familiar smile curving his lips.

“yeah?” he murmured, voice lower now. “and how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

you leaned in, brushing your lips against his.

“let me show you.”

you stayed in his lap for a little longer, kissing him slow and deep, letting the tension in his body continue to unwind under your hands. only when you felt him starting to melt did you slide off his lap, moving deliberately between his spread thighs. your hands rested on his knees as you looked up at him, eyes soft but full of intent.

connie’s breath hitched.

“shit…”

you rubbed your palms slowly up and down his thighs over the soft fabric of his sweatpants, feeling the muscles tense and then relax under your touch. he groaned low in his throat, already knowing exactly where this was headed.

he leaned forward, cupping your face with both hands, and kissed you again deeper this time, a little hungrier. when he pulled back, he leaned against the chair, watching you with those dark, half-lidded eyes.

you kept your gaze on him as you slowly tugged his sweatpants and boxers down just enough. his dick sprang free, thick and heavy, already hard for you. you wrapped one hand around the base, stroking him slowly, deliberately, feeling him throb against your palm.

“fuck…” connie cursed under his breath, head tilting back for a second before his eyes returned to you. “baby…”

you could see the stress leaving his body with every stroke shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching, that tired frustration melting into pure want. you leaned in and pressed a soft, teasing kiss to the tip, then another, letting your tongue flick out lightly to taste him.

he groaned again, deeper this time.

you took your time, kissing along the length of him, licking slow stripes from base to tip while your hand kept stroking. every little sound he made sent warmth rushing through you. you wanted him to feel every second of this.

“stop playing with me,” he rasped after a while, voice rough with need. “put that shit in your mouth.”

you smiled sweetly up at him before wrapping your lips around the head, sinking down slowly. connie let out a long, satisfied groan, one hand gently gathering your braids into a loose ponytail.

he didn’t push hard not yet just held you as you worked him with your mouth and both hands, sucking and stroking in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

the sounds were filthy in the quiet studio wet, sloppy, obscene. you looked right up at him the whole time, eyes locked, watching every flicker of pleasure cross his face. he stared back at you, lips parted, breathing heavy.

“just like that… fuck, look at you.”

you took him deeper, relaxing your throat, bobbing your head with wet, messy strokes while your hands twisted and pumped what you couldn’t fit. you pulled off for a second to spit on him, making everything slicker, then dove back down, sucking harder.

you even dipped lower, licking and sucking gently at his balls while your hand stroked his cock, earning you a broken moan that made your stomach flutter.

connie’s grip on your braids tightened as he started guiding your head a little more, hips lifting to meet your mouth in shallow thrusts. you let him, moaning around his length, the vibrations pulling more curses from his lips.

“shit—baby, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that…”

you didn’t stop. you kept sucking him sloppy and nasty, eyes watering but never breaking eye contact, taking him as deep as you could until his thighs started to tremble.

“i’m close,” he warned, voice strained, hips stuttering. “fuck, i’m so close—”

you hummed encouragingly and kept going, faster, wetter, until his whole body tensed. with a deep, broken groan, connie came hard down your throat. you swallowed every drop, humming softly around him as he pulsed in your mouth, working him through it until he was spent.

when you finally pulled off, breathing hard, you wiped the corner of your lips with your thumb and smiled up at him.

connie looked completely blissed out chest rising and falling, eyes heavy with satisfaction, all that earlier stress gone.

he pulled you back up into his lap immediately, kissing you deep and slow, tasting himself on your tongue.

he pulled you up gently until you were standing between his legs again. his eyes were dark and hungry as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging them down slowly. you stepped out of them, and he tossed the fabric somewhere behind him onto the studio floor.

his hands roamed back up your thighs, gripping the soft flesh of your ass as he looked up at you.

“damn… already hard again?” you whispered, a little breathless, glancing down at his dick. he had just cum in your mouth, yet he was thick and ready for you once more.

connie smirked, voice low and rough. “you do that to me.”

he pulled you back onto his lap, this time guiding you to straddle him properly. your knees settled on either side of his hips as you faced him. the chair creaked softly under your combined weight. his hands stayed on your ass, squeezing and spreading you as you hovered over him.

you leaned in and kissed him deeply. the kiss was slow at first warm, lingering, full of affection but it quickly grew hotter. tongues sliding, breaths mixing. his fingers dug into your ass as he rubbed you against his hard length, the slick head of his cock teasing your entrance and brushing your clit with every roll of your hips.

“ready for me, baby?” he breathed against your mouth.

you nodded, whimpering softly as you reached down to line him up. he was big always had been and you had to take him slowly. you sank down inch by inch, gasping into his mouth as he stretched you open. the fullness made your toes curl and your breath catch.

“fuck…” connie groaned, the sound vibrating against your lips. “so tight… take your time, baby. that’s it.”

you sat there for a long moment once he was fully inside, both of you breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. the intimacy of it being so full of him in the quiet studio, his arms wrapped tight around you made butterflies explode in your stomach.

then you started to move.

slow, rolling movements at first, grinding down on him in deep circles. connie’s hands helped guide you, gripping your ass and lifting you just enough before pulling you back down. your moans mixed with his, spilling into each other’s mouths as you kissed.

“feels so good,” you whispered against his lips, rolling your hips again.

“yeah? you like riding me like this?” he groaned, thrusting up gently to meet you. “look at you… so wet already.”

the pace gradually picked up. you rode him harder, bouncing on his cock while he thrust up to meet you. the wet, filthy sound of skin slapping filled the studio. he lifted your shirt, pushing it up and over your breasts so he could latch onto one, sucking and biting gently while his other hand kept guiding your hips.

“connie—” you moaned loudly, one hand gripping his hair, the other braced on his shoulder. every thrust hit deep, sending sparks through your whole body. you were soaking wet, dripping down his cock and thighs with every bounce.

“that’s it, baby,” he groaned against your chest, voice wrecked. “ride me just like that. fuck, you feel so fucking good. so tight around me.”

he started fucking you harder from below, hands gripping your ass almost bruisingly as he drove up into you. the chair rocked beneath you. your moans turned into cries, louder and more desperate. you leaned forward, kissing him messily, moaning into his mouth as he pounded up into you.

the tension was electric raw intimacy mixed with pure lust. sweat slicked your skin. his hands were everywhere squeezing your ass, gripping your waist, palming your breasts.

you felt yourself getting close, thighs shaking, walls clenching around him.

“i’m— i’m so close,” you whimpered, bouncing faster.

“me too,” he panted, sucking harder on your nipple. “cum with me, baby. let me feel you.”

a few more deep, powerful thrusts and you both fell over the edge together. your orgasm hit hard, body shaking as you clenched around him, moaning his name like a prayer. connie groaned loudly, burying himself deep as he came inside you, filling you up while he fucked you through both of your highs, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling and oversensitive in his arms.

you collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard, sweaty and trembling. his arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back as you came down together.

for a while, neither of you moved. just heavy breathing and the quiet hum of the studio equipment. connie pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your temple gentle and grateful.

“you okay, baby?” he murmured, voice hoarse.

you nodded against his chest, smiling sleepily. “more than okay.”

he helped you clean up with some tissues from the desk, gentle and careful. then he pulled your shirt back down and helped you step back into your shorts and panties, stealing little kisses the whole time. you yawned deeply as he fixed his own clothes.

connie laughed softly, pulling you back into his lap for a moment.

“damn… that made me tired” he said, grinning.

you laughed too, resting your head on his shoulder. “good. you needed it.”

he rubbed your back. “yeah… i did. fuck it. i think i’m done for tonight. i’ll come back fresh tomorrow.”

you lifted your head. “you sure? you were stressing so much earlier.”

“i’m sure.” he kissed your forehead. “thanks to you.”

you both gathered your things and left the studio, hand in hand, walking down the hall to your bedroom. once inside, you went through your usual nighttime routine brushing teeth, washing faces, changing into comfy clothes. connie kept touching you the whole time a hand on your waist, a kiss on your neck, pulling you close.

finally, you climbed into bed. he pulled you against his chest immediately, arms wrapped around you, legs tangled together. you sighed happily, nuzzling into his warmth.

“i love you,” you whispered.

“i love you more,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

you thought he had fallen asleep his breathing slow and steady when suddenly his voice broke the quiet.

“wait… i think i finally have an idea for that hook.”

you groaned, half-laughing. “connie, please. just sleep. you can look at it tomorrow.”

“but what if the idea disappears? what if someone else gets it first?”

you lifted your head, giving him a look. “connie… really?”

he was already sitting up, that familiar excited spark back in his eyes. he leaned down and kissed you sweetly.

“i promise i won’t take long. just gonna write it down real quick.”

you watched him slip out of bed, shaking your head with a fond smile as he disappeared down the hall.

and somehow, even though he said he wouldn’t take long… you already knew you’d be falling asleep without him tonight.