summary: a little girl from the PTMC daycare keeps finding her way to the ED. Jack allows the girl to stick around because he finds her mom very attractive and wants to see her again.
tags: unrealistic negligence of an early education facility, (the hospital would have been on lockdown irl this little girl wouldnt have made it off the floor)
little miracle masterlist
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After the midnight rush of DWIs, the night slows down enough for Abbot to catch up emails and on the computer. He types away in the draft and schedules each of them to come in all at 8am and every 30 minutes after. Admin likes to waste his time so he likes to give them a head ache too.
As he continues, just in front of the nurse's station, he sees a little girl wandering past. She was very small, probably preschool age. Her hair in a ponytail and was dawned in a matching pajama set. She must have come in with her mother and ended up lost. Hopefully someone— a nurse— will help her back to the respective room. He then grabs an tablet and goes to one of the North side rooms to discharge a patient.
After he escorts the patient through the triage doors he passes the Pediatric room and notices the little girl from before. She stands by the wall and traces the mural of the woodland animals. She hums a nursery rhyme in a similar tune to "Mary Had a Little Lamb."
Abbot stands at the door and looks in either direction. He looks in either direction then Dr. Ellis quicksteps past him. "Hey Ellis, do you know if any patients are missing a kid?"
"A kid?" She backs up and looks in the room, "Definitely not. Should I get security?"
"Not yet. I'll find out more. Go ahead." He dismisses her and enters the room.
The girl hears his foot steps and looks up at him curiously. "Hi."
"Hi, I'm Dr. Abbot. What is your name, sweetie?"
"Miracle." She turns back to the fox on the wall.
"What a pretty name." He kneels down beside her on his good knee, "Are you here with your family?"
She shakes her head, "I'm here all by myself."
Abbot purses his lips in worry, "Oh yeah? How did you get here?"
"The elevator." She smiles, "I remember the fox from last time and came down all by myself."
"The elevator…" He thinks for a moment. He notices on her chest as a name tag. Similar to his badge was a photo of Miracle and the words PTMC childcare center. Miracle was not a patient or a child of one but a child of an employee at the hospital. He lets out a sigh of relief, "Well, this is a long way from where you belong isn't it?"
Miracle shrinks and clasps her hands together, "I didn't mean to."
"It's okay, sweetie but we'll need to take you back. Don't want your people to worry right?"
"Uh huh." She nods, "My mommy works in the hospital. She helps really sick people."
"You know, I do that too." He smiles, "Why don't we go sit somewhere and call your mommy? Let her know you are okay."
"Okay!"
Abbot stands up and holds out his hand for the girl to hold but she instead holds up both of her arms with the expectation of him to pick her up. He smiles and obliges, carrying her back to the main nurse's station. "I think I know where some stickers are that you can have. Do you like stickers?"
"Yeah!" She squeals.
Miracle had a smile that could melt the coldest hearts. As they walk, she rests her head on Abbot's shoulder. He tries to steel his resolve but his heart swells at the feeling of her little head on his shoulder.
"Oh my, who is this little one?" Lena smiles at the girl.
"This is Miracle. She is a long way from the daycare upstairs."
"Oh Geez. I heard the bathrooms are broke down on their floor so they have to go to a different one." Lena says, "No wonder this little lamb got lost." She pinches the little girl's cheeks. An infectious giggle comes from the girl as she squirms in Abbot's arms.
He sets her down on a stool and takes a look at her tag. It had her full name on it with a phone number underneath. He recognizes it as the ICU floor. He dials it on the office phone.
A soft woman's voice answers in a quiet tone, "ICU?"
"Hi, this is Dr. Abbot here in the ED. I have a sweet little girl named Miracle down here lost from the daycare."
"Oh my god." He can hear the woman panic. Faintly, she tells her colleague, "Thank you Dr. Abbot. I will be down in just a moment."
Before he can respond the line goes dead. It must have been Miracle's mother on the phone, "Good news, Miracle. Your mommy is on the way."
"What about my stickers?" Oh right…
He snaps and opens a random junk drawer and finds some stickers in the bottom. "Here you are."
She takes them from him and rips off one and places it back on his hand. He smiles down at the sticker.
Just a moment becomes a long while as Abbot and Miracle wait. Although young, Miracle was able to keep herself entertained at the desk. She ran out of stickers and Abbot's arms and face had run out of surface area. His staff laugh and take in the adorable sight of Abbot with the little girl.
"Miracle! Oh thank god, you're still here."
"Mommy!"
Abbot whips his head around and feels his heart leap out of his chest. You come flying down the stairs and jog over to the nurse's station. He can't take his eyes off of you as you come around and pick up your daughter.
"What were thinking coming down here all by yourself?"
"I wanted to play with this fox on the wall."
You shake your head and move your eyes to Abbot's sticker riddled body. "Hi… you must Dr. Abbot."
"You'd be correct." He holds his hands behind his back, "Miracle was keeping me company down here."
"I can see that," You giggle, "You have discovered her obsession with stickers. Sorry."
"Not a problem. Anything to keep her entertained."
"I appreciate it. I really do. She has gotten into this adventurous stage of wandering off and I can barely keep up. I'm glad you were able to keep her occupied." Your smile was just as criminal as Miracle's.
"She's welcome back anytime." He waves it off as he tries not to stutter under your sweet gaze.
"Alright then. Say bye to Dr. Abbot, Miracle."
"Bye Dr…. Abby." She giggles.
"Dr. Abby? You're so silly." You tickle her side then you look at him again, "Bye Dr. Abbot."
"Bye Dr. Abbot." Miracle waves as you carry her back up the stairs to the daycare center.
Abbot watches you go with a longing look. He looks down at his arms and chuckles before he starts to meticulously peel them off. It takes a few minutes to do, a few of the stickers leaving a mark.
He thought that would be the last time he would see you and Miracle. The next night, he looks in the Pedes room longingly before continuing on his way back to the hub.
He stops short just a few feet. Then backtracks and looks into the break room to find a familiar figure. Little Miracle was squatting down in front of the vending machine looking through the slot in the bottom.
"Hungry?" Abbot enters the room.
Miracle sheepishly withdraws from the machine and clasps her hands together. A tell that she did when she thought she was in trouble. She looks at the machine then back at Abbot.
"It's okay." He holds his hands out to her. She approaches him quickly and jumps into his arms. He lifts her and rest her on his hip. "It's a bit late for a sugary snack. How about… some goldfish?"
She nods quickly. He smiles at her and opens one of the pantries where some small snacks were available. He grabs out a package of goldfish and hand them to the little girl. Then he takes her back to the nurse's station.
"Little Lamb!" Lena smiles when she see the little girl then the smile turns shit-eating, "She's taking a liking to you, Abbot."
"She was just hungry. She probably saw the vending machine from the last time she was here." He sets Miracle down on a stool. "You are real sneaky, aren't you?"
Miracle shakes her head as she smirks. She continues to eat her crackers without a word. She was very cunning for her age. Able to get away from the daycare staff and get down to the ED without arousing suspicion of being alone. You must really have your hands full with her.
You were a single mother working as an ICU nurse. You transferred from an ICU clinic out of state due to your toxic ex, Miracle's dad. You had taken the job at the PTMC due to their 24 hour daycare program. You were able to spend time with your daughter during the day and without support at home, she would need to come to the hospital to sleep for the night. It was only a few nights a week so it was hard not to pass up.
Not that Abbot knew your situation. It wasn't like, after that night he met you, he asked one of the medical assistants about you during an ICU transfer.
He picks up the phone and dials the ICU line. "ICU?" It's you again. Speaking softly. A mental image pops up in his mind of you speaking that way to him in the morning.
"Uh, this is Dr. Abbot in the ED."
"Hi, are you looking for a bed?"
"No, actually, I have Miracle down here. She seems to have gotten away again."
"You're joking…" You grumble. You mutter to your coworker again. "i've gotta go… the ED… Miracle… yeah again… unbelievable i know…Are you still there Abbot?"
"I am."
"I'll be down in a minute. I am so sorry. See you soon." You say defeated.
"See you…" The line goes dead and Abbot turns his attention back to Miracle.
She spins on the stool without a care. She finished her goldfish while he was on the phone. He grabs an office chair and sits beside her, "Miracle, your mommy is on her way."
She beams at him, "Yay."
"Do you come down here because you like when you mommy comes to pick you up?"
Miracle shakes her head, "My mommy picks me up all the time. I like when you pick me up and we play."
He leans back, "I see. But Miracle, your mommy and I are busy working. We can't play all the time you know that, right? It's night time and you need rest. So while we work, you sleep."
"But I can only see you at night time. Mommy said so."
Abbot chuckles, "What did your mom say?"
"You work night time at the hospital so that means we can only see you at night time. We can't come in the day time."
"Do you ask to see me in the day time?"
She nods. "You are fun to play with."
"You are fun too." He boops her nose, "Do you like to draw?" She nods rapidly. "How about you draw something for us to put up back here?" He grabs some printer paper and some colored pens from the cup of supplies on the desk.
"You draw too." She hands a pen to him.
"I'd love to sweetie but remember what I said? I have to do my work. It's so I don't get in trouble. Ms. Lena will keep an eye on you."
Miracle pouts like a kicked puppy. It tears Abbot's heart to shreds to look at. He bites down on his bottom lip before looking away. Be strong, be strong, he repeats the mantra as he walks away.
It doesn't take long for him to return though and at the same time that he is back at the nurse's station you come jogging down the stairs. "Hello again," He smiles at you.
"Hi," You return the smile and look at Miracle, "She is going to become a permanent resident by the end of the week down here. C'mon little mama."
Miracle jumps from her stool and hides behind Abbot's legs. "No."
You let out a huff and smile awkwardly, "Heh, Miracle, sweetie it's time to say goodbye to Dr. Abbot."
"No." She grabs onto him. She touches a part of Abbot's prosthesis, she hesitates then moves to wrap both her hands around his other leg.
"God, this is so embarrassing." You mutter then you look up at Abbot, "I'm sorry, she is cranky at this point."
"That's okay." He chuckles, "How about I walk her with you to the daycare?"
"Oh, no it's fine. I'm sure they need you down here being the shift attending and all." You tighten your lips. You didn't mean to reveal that. You may or may not have asked a medical assistant about him during an ED transfer.
"It is not a problem. It's Lena that keeps this place running." He turns to Miracle, "If I come with you will you be good for your mommy?"
She nods rapidly and holds her hands up to him. He picks her up and smiles at you, "Shall we?"
"We shall." You lead them to the elevator. As you enter, you hear Miracle whisper to Abbot.
"What happened to your leg?" She cups his ear to whisper but she wasn't too discreet as you still heard her question.
"I got hurt in an accident. My leg was no good so they gave me a new one." He whispers back.
"Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore." He shakes his head, "I eat good and take care of myself to be big and strong." He tickles her side, making her giggle in his ear.
You can't help but smile. His patience with your daughter warmed your heart. It was something about him treating her like a small person and not a nuisance unlike someone you once knew. She was disrupting him at work but he didn't let it bother him. He seemed to enjoy it, actually.
As you walk back to the daycare, you notice Miracle has gone quiet. You look over and see she had fallen asleep on Abbot's shoulder. "That girl is something else." You shake your head.
"She gives you a run for your money." Abbot whispers.
"You have no idea." You sigh, "She has not been infatuated with anything ever until she met you. I've never heard her speak about someone so highly after meeting them once."
"So she says. She told me, she stays awake to play with me."
"All day, non-stop. 'Mommy, you should invite Dr. Abbot to our house to play.' 'Mommy, Is Dr. Abbot at the hospital yet?' 'I got a booboo, Dr. Abbot should help.'" You laugh at yourself then notice Abbot smiling at you. You avert your gaze and stop at the Pre-K door. "This is her." You scan your ID and open the door for Abbot.
He lays her on one of the cots with the other kids. You tuck her in and kiss her forehead. You apologize to the staff and they apologize too. The bathrooms should be finished by tomorrow so hopefully this is the last time Miracle elopes.
You walk with Abbot back to the elevator, "I really can't thank you enough, Dr. Abbot."
"Miracle is a sweetheart. Just as much as I left an impression on her she's left one on me." He holds his hands behind his back as he walks.
"Hopefully, this will be the last of her hijinks and my blood pressure will lower." You take a deep breath. Abbot purses his lips as his heart wilts. You stop in front of the elevator, "This is where we part ways. You've gotta go down and I've gotta go up." You hit the down button, "I'll take the stairs."
"I'll see you around?" He steps on to the elevator.
"At this rate? I'll be seeing you tomorrow." You joke.
You joke but Abbot hoped that it was a promise.
The next night, Miracle appears again. Abbot makes his rounds when he finds her curled up on the couch in the family room. He almost didn't catch her this time if it weren't for the door being propped open by the janitors. He enters the room quietly and sits beside her.
He rubs her back as he tries to rouse her from sleep. The little girl rises out of her ball like state and crawls into his lap and rests on his chest. He sighs and continues to rub her back and rocks her side to side. He pulls out his hospital phone and dials the ICU.
"ICU?" A firm voice speaks. It definitely wasn't you, "Hello?"
"Yes, hi, this is Abbot down in the ED. I've got Miracle down here and was wondering if her mother was available to pick her up."
"Uh…unfortunately she is unavailable at the moment. Are you able to keep an eye on her for some time? She is tending to a patient at the moment. I will pass along the message as soon as I can." There was a wobble of nervousness in the nurse's voice. It was always life or death in the ICU.
"Yeah, I can. Just let her know when you can." He hangs up the phone and continues to rock her. When he knows he has spent too much time he will carry her to the hub.
"Lena, occupy Central 6 for me." He points to the sleeping girl in his arms, "Her mom might take a minute."
"You got it." She opens a tablet and fills in some random information to occupy the room on the status board.
He lays Miracle on the gurney and tucks her under the covers. "Thank you for making me so special." He whispers to her then shuts out the lights and leaves the room closing the door. Through out the hour he keeps an eye on her.
You come down the stairs looking disheveled. Your eyes were puffy, it looked like you had been crying. Abbot approaches beside you and rests his hand on the center of your back, "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, sorry, where is Miracle?" You sniffle.
"Right in here." He leads you into Central 6. You lower the rail on one side of the gurney and pull up a chair to caress Miracle's face as she sleeps. He can see tears fall indiscriminately from your eyes. "Is everything okay?"
You let out a chuckle, "Is everything ever okay in our departments?" He sighs and pulls up another chair to be beside you. "Just before I come down here, every time, I've had to stabilize a patient, or at least try. A different person each time and afterward I'd come right down here and see the smile on my daughter's face like everything is okay. I have to act like I haven't just witnessed the scariest thing 5 minutes before coming to get her. I don't have to brave it when she's at daycare. In my mind, she seems worlds apart from the madness. Safe. I freak out thinking about her down here. What she might see. As if I didn't just watch someone die minutes ago." Abbot hears your voice waver as you speak but you laugh again, "But even still, with you, she is safe. She's so comfortable in your arms like she's known you her whole short life. You make it look so easy." You lean back in your chair and sniffle, "It makes me think I'm not cut out for this."
"Woah, that is a severe overstatement." He leans forward and takes your hand, "Had you not told me, I would have never known what you've done before coming down here. The first time you came down, you had this infectious smile on your face. And Miracle ran into your arms, you didn't falter for a second. Scooped her right in your arms. If you were scared you never showed it. You are her world. She knows you're there for her. You make it look effortless"
You look down at his hand on yours. He gives it an affirming squeeze. It's warm to the touch. "I bet you say that to all the single mothers." You bite back a smile and pull your hand away.
"Usually when they're here they are preoccupied with… you know an emergency?"
You giggle, "Really? None have made a move on you?"
"I fear that is day shift only. At this time of night, I only get the drunks playing grab ass." He sighs.
"Oh poor you," You rub his shoulder. "And here I thought you were like this dangerous and sexy combat medic that flirted with all the moms."
"Dangerous and sexy?"
"The other nurses on my floor say that, at least."
"So you talk about me to other people."
"I had to. I have to make sure the men in my daughter's life aren't dirt bags." You shrug, "They said you were a flirt too. Any defense?"
"I'm playful." He surrenders, "It's only to liven up this dreadful place."
"Right." You purse your lips into a thin smile, "Well, I should probably be taking her back to the daycare." You remove Miracle from the gurney and rest her on your hip, "You have a good rest of your night, Dr. Abbot."
He follows you out of the room, "I hope my playfulness hasn't scared you away from coming back to work."
"Only time will tell, I guess. Maybe I'll consider transferring to the ED and have some fun with you down here instead. " You shoot him a playful wink. He licks his bottom lip as he watches you walk to the elevator and back upstairs.
"She's got you whipped." Ellis shakes her head.
"Both of them do." Lena smirks, "Forget a work wife, he's got a whole work family."
"It's not like that." He waves them off, "Miracle is a troublemaker and her mom—"
"Is the hottest nurse you've ever laid your eyes on?" Ellis cocks an eyebrow, "You're not the only one with eyes, Abbot."
He averts his gaze to the status board, "Do you have anything better to do right now, Ellis? How does triage for the next hour sound?"
"Sounds like I should keep my mouth shut and get back to work." She leans over and mutters to Lena, "See how defensive he got. Whipped."
It had been a week since Miracle's escape attempts. The bathroom in the daycare was up and running again so there was no way for her to escape. Abbot stares at her drawing she had left behind. He missed that little rascal. He missed you too.
When things get slow enough, he decides to try and take a trip up to the daycare to check on Miracle. It was possible that she was sleeping but just seeing her would keep his spirits high. He tells Lena he's going to be out for a few minutes and hits the elevator button.
When the doors open his eyes widen in surprise. You stand there with a smile on your face and a look of surprise yourself. "Hey, I was just coming down to look for you."
"Oh? What for? Patient transfer?"
"No actually," You beckon him onto the elevator, "Miracle is having a hard time sleeping and misses her friend Dr. Abbot. I was wondering if I can steal you for a few minutes to put her to bed." You hit the button for the daycare floor, "Is that okay?"
"Uh yeah… I was actually going to head there."
"Felt a disturbance in the force, Jedi?" You chuckle.
"I just wanted to make sure she was alright."
"You've spoiled her." You say, "Now she can't live without you. It was inevitable, she's imprinted on you like a little duck. You are her mama now."
He laughs. It's a hearty laugh that warms your chest. You can't help but laugh too. The two of you walk out of the elevator side by side and enter the daycare. Miracle lays in her bed and beams when she sees the two of you from the window.
You both enter and sit beside her bed. "Okay, Miracle, this is a one time thing. Dr. Abbot can't come and go whenever you want while you're here." You explain as you tuck her in, "But he did say he missed you too."
She grins at him, "Do you still have my picture, Dr. Abbot?"
"I do. I look at it everyday." He grabs her hand and squeezes it tight.
"Maybe because you miss me we can play not in the hospital." She pouts.
You purse your lips and nod, "Maybe… But Dr. Abbot is super busy—"
"If your mommy says it's okay, I would be more than happy to."
You swivel your head at him in surprise, "You would?"
"Sure," He shrugs, "We can all play together outside of the hospital."
Your face is cooking as he speaks. Was he saying what you think he was saying?
"But that is for your mommy and I to talk about. You, little one, need to sleep." She nods and shuts her eyes. Your eyes are still on him. He notices and smiles, "Did you want to talk about that now?"
"Uh no I just… thought…"
"I was too sexy and dangerous? Or did you still believe I am too playful?"
You bow your head in defeat, "I guess I did."
After Miracle falls asleep the two of you leave. "I am going to be honest. I fully believed that this would be the last we saw of each other. We would go our separate ways, officially." You confess.
"I knew that wouldn't be the case after second time Miracle came to the ER." He chuckles, "I'd find a way to see you again."
"So were you the one sabotaging bathroom maintenance?" You giggle, "If you wanted to meet with me so bad you could have asked. Like you asked Edgar about me."
"You found out about that…" He winces.
"My good looks get me my way up there." You tease, "I'm kidding. When I asked about you he told me you had done the same. So I asked for more information."
"That's when you got the sexy and dangerous thing from."
"Yes, you are really stuck on that." You nudge him, "Don't believe it."
"I just like the way it sounds coming from you. You believe it."
"I do not."
"For a moment you did. In your mind, there was an image of me next to those words."
You cover your mouth as you refrain from laughing out loud, "Alright, what's it going to take for you to not bring that up anymore."
"When are you free?" He asks, "We can go somewhere and have breakfast after work? Or lunch? Go to the park for Miracle."
"Breakfast sounds good." You take out your personal phone, "How about you put in your number and I'll let you know."
"Promise?" He takes your phone and puts in his number
"If I don't you can put me on blast by calling the ICU and bug me. They all need something juicy to keep them entertained." You smile as he hands back your phone, "But I like you. So I won't keep you waiting too long. How does 10am tomorrow sound?"
"Sounds like a deal."
The two of you stop short of the elevator. You bite your lip before leaning in and kissing Abbot's cheek. "This is where we part ways." You hit the down button, "I'll take the stairs. See you at breakfast."
Abbot's cheeks burn as he watches you jog up the stairs. He tries to control his smile in the elevator as to not tip off the others to his glee. He didn't need them spoiling his fun just yet.
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thank you for reading! likes, comments, and reblogs always appreciated!
synopsis 𝜗𝜚 everyone knows that you’re michael’s bambi. except no one knows how deep his infatuation lies.
warnings 𝜗𝜚 suggestive but not explicit smut, michael calls the reader bambi and ma, michael fake shy iykwim
authors note 𝜗𝜚 i’m back to writing fics regularly and i’ll be working on my requests !
word count 𝜗𝜚 2.8k
“𝓼top lookin’ at me like that, bambi.”
that was the nickname michael had been using for the past two years. while it took an elongated period of time for it to grow on you, it surely stuck once it did.
whenever anybody asked him why he called you that, his answer was simple. “she’s got them big doe eyes, just like bambi.”
at a certain point, people—yourself included—eventually stopped questioning him. the nickname became something natural, something expected. whenever people heard bambi, it was instantly associated with you and michael rather than the 1942 animated film.
“like what?” you ask him.
weird, he wants to say. like you know something he isn’t quite ready to admit yet. like you’ve got him all figured out before he can figure himself it.
“i don’t know. like that.”
“whatever.”
you divert your attention back to the scene in front of you. you were initially watching a movie, but michael’s siblings were drowning out any sound that could’ve been coming from the tv. not like you were paying attention, anyway.
you were engrossed in the discussion they were currently having. it started with jackie boasting about his current girlfriend, then somehow snowballed into a full-blown conversation about the ins and outs of relationships, how to tell when someone likes you, and the ignorance that comes before said relationships.
that was what really caught your attention. they started arguing about who tends to be more oblivious during the courting stage—men or women. while you didn’t give a verbal input, the conversation had you deliberating.
you’ve been harboring a crush on michael for five months, now going on six. you deduced that michael was either heavily unaware or just pretending he didn’t know, with the latter being highly unlikely.
you tried to give him small, yet perceptible signs that you liked him. you didn’t want to be forthright and risk him not feeling the same way, thus ruining your friendship.
your hand would linger on his arm too long whenever he told a joke, you’d throw your legs haphazardly over his whenever you sat together, and you started to put tenfold more effort into your outfits whenever you saw him. you’d usually just put on whatever was comfortable for you, knowing you’d be surrounded by him and his family, whom you’ve known for years.
yet, all of your efforts seemed to go unnoticed. it was never anything more than michael’s eyes concentrating on you whenever your shorts rose too high, or his breath hitching when your hand stayed on him for too long. but it was never anything that directly confirmed his feelings for you.
“i mean, how do you really know when someone likes you back?” jermaine asks.
“when they make it obvious they care, duh.”
suddenly, multiple pairs of eyes are focused on you, michael included. it’s the first thing you’ve added to their conversation all night; it’s no wonder they’re suddenly so interested.
“what you mean?” jackie asks.
“like,” you pause before continuing your sentence, “when they take their time to learn the little things about you. like if someone was to know that my favorite disney movie is bambi.”
“your nickname is literally bambi, girl. that ain’t no secret,” jermaine adds.
you hate that his sentence drags a laugh out of you. you want to be serious to get your point across, but he wasn’t wrong. it definitely wasn’t a secret that one of your favorite movies was bambi, given the nickname that michal designated to you.
“boy, you know what i mean. it’s the little things that matter!”
you add no more to the conversation, having nothing else to say. you’ve verbalized how you feel about something, giving signs that they like you. the small, almost insignificant things mattered more to you than any extravagant declaration of love.
what you failed to notice was the way michael drank in every word of your sentence, intently listening. it was like he was making a mental note of everything that gave you clear indications that somebody liked you, that he liked you.
“d’you like these?”
michael held up a pair of tank tops—pink, teal, and white. you had recently complained to him that you felt like you had a sparse collection of tank tops, and you didn’t know what to do under the blazing heat of the summer sun.
you weren’t asking him anything; you simply needed to complain about your vacant wardrobe. you were planning to take a trip to the mall within the next few days, but by the looks of it, michael beat you to it.
“oh, i love them!”
you throw your arms around his neck, embracing him in a hug. you rock both of you back and forth until he’s laughing and telling you “alright, ma,” and pulling you away from him via your waist.
you’re quick to take the tank tops and hold them up to your frame in his full-body mirror, already envisioning how you’d style them. you were picturing outfits in your mind rapidly.
“mike, these are gonna be so cute!” you exclaim, still holding them up to your body.
“i’m glad you like ‘em. i remember you were telling me how you needed some.”
you throw the hangers carelessly onto michael’s bed. then, you fling your body towards where he’s sitting. he steadies you by your waist, but the two of you still fall backwards against the mattress.
you’re practically smothering him with a hug, your front pressed against his. the room is a mixture of your squeals and his laughter. it’s evident that you’re enjoying the gift and he’s enjoying how content you are with it.
“you’re the best ever. who else would buy me something ‘cause i mentioned it once?”
“i’m the best you’ll ever have, bambi, i know. now please get off me.”
he comes off like the weight of your body is the issue, but it’s not that. the way your breasts were smushed against his chest was distracting, truly. he wouldn’t be able to focus on another word coming out of your mouth if both of you stayed in this position.
you remove your body from his with a groan, sitting back on his bed. he releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding once the weight of your chest is lifted from his. this wasn’t the ideal situation for him to have a hard-on, especially when you were so close, and you’d undoubtedly feel it.
“‘m serious, mike. i know it seems small, but it means a lot to me.”
you sound so unalloyed, meaning everything you’re saying. while you did verbalize how much little things meant to you, this was his first time actually experiencing it.
“i got you. don’t worry.”
“turn around. ‘n close your eyes.”
if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that those are the exact words michael would say to you in bed. his arms resting on your hips or holding your arms behind your back as he pistoned into you from behind, ugh!
you do exactly what he says without questioning him. you trusted him more than you trusted anyone else. what’s the worst that could come out of him telling you to turn around and close your eyes?”
you feel a cool metal resting against your neck—a necklace, you presume.
your hands search for the pendant, yet you don’t recognize it. it’s not something as simple as a heart or a bow. it almost feels like an initial, but you’re not sure.
“open your eyes.”
once you do, you look down, and to your not-so-surprise, your necklace is adorned by your initial.
two weeks ago, your initial necklace clasp had broken, rendering it useless. you weren’t surprised because it was a cheap necklace, but you were sad about it nonetheless.
you hadn’t even told michael it was broken. you hadn’t complained as you did about your lack of tank tops. you simply stopped wearing the necklace and thought about when you’d feel like going to get another one.
“mike!” you squeal.
you hug him like you usually do when you’re this happy—arms around his neck and body pressed all the way into his. his arms wrap around your waist like it’s second nature.
“you always get me the best gifts ever,” you gush.
he pats your waist twice before responding. “‘course i do. you think i don’t pay attention?”
“i think you pay too much attention.”
you both laugh, but it wasn’t much of a joke. michael had a habit of noticing the most minuscule of things, sometimes even before you noticed them.
your mind drifts back to the conversation you had with jackie and jermaine. michael does the exact things you’d look for in a partner. it feels weird to think about your best friend in a romantic light, but he literally checks off all your metaphorical boxes when it comes to what you want in a partner.
he’s attentive, caring, and so gentle. ugh, you should not be thinking about your best friend like this! especially when there are no clear signs that he returns your feelings.
you’d either have to get over it or tell him how you felt. you were going with the former option until further notice.
“i’m always paying attention to you, bambi.”
maybe you weren’t going crazy.
maybe your suspicions, your theories, were being confirmed in real time.
maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that michael liked you back.
recently, you’ve been pondering his actions lately. you said it was the little things that matter to you, that made you know when someone actually liked you.
ever since that conversation, you feel like michael’s been noticing every little thing in your life. your lack of tank tops, when your necklace broke, hell, he even knows how you’re feeling before you do!
was this something you could pass off as platonic, or were your dreams coming true? did your best friend reciprocate your feelings after all?
there was only one real way for you to find out. although you refused to admit your feelings to him outwardly, you weren’t against beating around the bush to figure out a thing or two.
michael’s lying on his bed with you next to him. your legs and thrown over his lap and he’s rubbing his hands up and down them.
a movie’s playing, but neither of you are paying much attention to it. you’ve been too engrossed in the conversation you’ve been having to worry about what was playing on michael’s box television.
“i think i’m really bad at reading people at times.”
it’s not your everyday statement, but you and him are talking about a little bit of everything right now. topics have ranged from the film you’re watching—which should really be the main topic of discussion—plans for the summer, and how you’re not fond of people who don’t pick up social cues.
“what makes you say that?” he questions you.
“i dunno. like i don’t know how someone’s feeling unless they, like, directly tell me.”
michael’s silent for a long moment. you conclude that he needs time to fully articulate himself before giving you a verbal response.
“so you couldn’t guess how i’m feeling right now?”
“absolutely not,” your reply is instant, “you’re happy right now? i have no clue.”
“sounds about right. maybe you ain’t too bad at reading people,” he jests.
“it’s different ‘cause you’re my best friend and i’m with you all of the time.”
“yeah,” michael mutters. his voice is quiet, different from the noisy tone of voice he usually takes when speaking to you.
“what?” you ask him.
he suddenly got quiet after you called him your best friend and stated that you spent the majority of your time with him. quiet in an extremely unusual way—your michael was nothing less than loud.
“it’s nothin’.”
“don’t be weird, mike.”
he doesn’t look directly at you, still failing to respond to you.
“mike,” you nudge his shoulder with your hand, “stop bein’ weird.”
“i’m not being weird.”
“you are! we were jus’ talkin’ and then you went all quiet on me.”
“what else am i ‘posed to say when you call me your best friend?”
you’re unable to formulate a response for a long moment. if you weren’t mistaken, michael just inadvertently admitted that he didn’t like being referred to as your best friend, even if that’s what he is at the moment.
“what?”
“forget it.”
michael pushes your legs off his, moving to stand up from his sitting position on the bed. before he’s able to get far, you’re tugging him back down to sit beside you. you refused to let this conversation end abruptly and so awkwardly.
“i’m not forgettin’ shit, mike. talk to me like a normal person.”
“don’t cuss at me.”
you roll your eyes because of course, that’s what he cares about in the moment.
“what did you mean by that?” you ask him.
if you had to endure another moment of silence—michael taking far too long to respond to you—you’d be ripping your hair out from the scalp. you wanted to have a cohesive conversation without long moments of silence.
“i mean that i don’t jus’ wanna be your best friend. you talk about how the little things make it clear that somebody likes you back, but i do the little things, and nothing comes of it. forget i said anything—“
you place your hand on his thigh, dangerously high, to prevent him from speaking any further. his breath hitches, but he quickly regains his composure.
“i said all of that ‘cause i wanted you to notice.”
it felt like an invisible weight had been lifted from your shoulders. not only did michael confirm his feelings for you, but you were also able to express how you’ve been feeling for what feels like forever. but in reality it was half a year.
“believe when i tell you i noticed, bambi. the tank tops ‘n the necklace? i was a day away from buying you some versace.”
you slap his shoulder in chide, though it’s not nearly enough to hurt him. “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“‘cause there was always a chance you didn’t like me back. i didn’t wanna risk it and then lose you forever.”
“d’awhh, you’re so sweet. you could never lose me,” you smush your cheek against the side of his arm, gazing up at him through your lashes.
michael would be melting right now if he had no self-restraint. you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen, and he can’t believe he has you in his bedroom confessing your feelings to him.
he can’t help but think of everything else you could be doing in his room right now. he’s spent months, bordering on a year, thinking about what you’d look like underneath him.
writhing, whining out his name. he’d give you anything you’d ask for if you looked up at him through your eyelashes like you’re doing now. he’d go down on you for hours, or he would watch your facial expressions as you fell apart on his dick.
“‘cause i’d never allow myself to lose you, bambi,”
upon hearing his words, you sit on your knees to press a chaste kiss to his lips. the feeling of your mouth on his is gone as quickly as it came.
michael’s flushed, but not more than you. someone would assume you were doing far more lurid activities, given the bashful look on your face.
“what was that?” he asks you.
“a kiss. you didn’t like it?”
“i think i need another one to come to a conclusion.”
you lean up to press another fleeting kiss to michael’s lips, but his hand is holding your face and he’s forcing your lips open before you can fully comprehend. his tongue presses against yours, your hands fly up to his hair, tugging on a few strands.
the groan he lets out is the fuel you need to continue. without breaking the kiss, michael effortlessly moves you so that you’re sitting on his lap.
you’re the first to pull away, fearing you’d lose yourself when you and michael had just figured everything out.
“mike…”
“‘m sorry bambi, i couldn’t help myself,” he grins at you.
you couldn’t be mad at him even if you tried. you definitely weren’t expecting him to deepen the kiss, but his hands on your waist and his lips on yours were enough to erase any previous ire.
“we jus’ got together ‘n all, i don’t wanna move too fast. plus your whole family is downstairs right now.”
“i wouldn’t care if the entirety of california was downstairs right now. nothin’ matters if i get to have you.”
your head drops to his neck as if that would actually hide you from him. you feel like you could traverse the entire state and he’d still be able to locate you, no matter what.
“don’t be embarrassed, bambi. we won’t do anythin’ until you’re ready.”
you let out a sigh of relief, making the mistake of thinking anything michael said would permanently put your mind at ease.
when you joined the crew, to sanji, it was like nami and robin never existed, or any other woman in fact. you’d been blessed with one of the most beautiful devil fruits that gave you the ability to produce any plant whether it was flowers, herbs, weeds and poison meaning your were a natural at healing. you had just the sweetest soul too, helping him in the kitchen, leaving gentle lingering touches in his face, using your ability to make him seasonings he’s never tried before, the list goes on!
the sunny was decorated in all types of flowers making your presence known to all of the crew. usually you were in the sick bay helping chopper but this evening you find yourself in the kitchen instead. you were sat on the counter, peeling oranges and putting the peels into a pot while you pushed the slices into sanjis mouth as he baked.
“what are the peels for, mon coeur?”
you slipped from the counter, padding off to the sink and filling the pot with water to boil. You moved to stand next to sanji, placing the pot on one of the free stoves.
“s’a simmer pot. makes the room smell nice when you boil it.”
you turned on the stove, hands raising above the boiling water as fresh sage and bay leaves fell from your palms. sanji’s lovesick gaze never left you as the fruity scent started to fill the kitchen.
“hand me a cinnamon stick sanji.”
sanji was snapped out of his hazy thoughts, his long arm extending to the other side of the counter and was brought back with a cinnamon stick in hand. when you put it into the pot it might’ve created the most heavenly smell sanjis smelt in his life.
you gently stirred the pot, signaling for sanji to hand you another orange. he peeled it for you, dropping them into the pot. the kitchen fell into a silence, a comfortable silence.
you felt an orange slice press against your lips, graciously accepting it with a smile as he returned the favor.
the kitchen was now filled with the sent of cinnamon-y oranges and the late night pasta sanji had over the stove.
he turned off his stove, setting his pasta into a bowl and decorated it in marinara sauce. your eyes were stuck on those slender fingers of his while you mindlessly stirred the simmering pot. he placed the plate of pasta on the candle lit dining table before coming back to you to wrap his arms from behind.
sanji smelled like smoke and hints of lemon. it went nicely with the scent of the room. it made you a little dizzy too.
he took your hand, thumb rubbing the back of it with a tenderness that only he could give.
“may i take you out for dinner, mademoiselle [᪥]?”
you turned off your stove, turning in his arms to face him. you took a few seconds to think like you were pretending to think when you were already going to say yes. just before the worlds could leave your mouth, you saw a suspiciously long arm enter the kitchen, feel up the table and grab a big portion pasta off of the plate. the hand zoomed out just as quickly and you looked back up at sanji.
“well..”
he raised his visible eyebrow at your mumble, turning around just to see the same stretchy arm once again on the plate, this time taking the entire dish.
now sanji did almost yell his captains name out loud but brushed your face with his hand with an apologetic look before swiftly leaving the kitchen. all you heard was yells and luffys oh so familiar giggles coming from the deck.
oh well, maybe next time.
a/n from lay ⨾༊·˚: wow i am getting consistent i wonder how long i can keep this ideas up for 🤤 if everything goes right usopp fic will be delivered tomorrow ❤️🩹🙏🏽. this can be depicted as opla i guess but not really what i had in mind.
cw: 18+ mdni!!, smut, lowkey implied reader is plus size, smoking, obsessive behavior, panty stealing, stalking, possessiveness, angst(?), teasing, marking, pet names, slight switch!dex, fingering, oral sex (receiving), brief handjob, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, (rushed) aftercare, no use of y/n
a/n: i started writing this like a year ago after the first season of dd:ba specifically bc of this edit of dex but season 2 had us eating reallll good so i needed to run it back lmao. it’s been a while since i’ve posted anything so pls be kind! feedback is appreciated!!
Tuesday
The city that never sleeps seemed alive more than ever tonight. The sound of choppers flying overhead pass by Dex’s building, accompanied by the wailing of sirens scattered across the borough.
Dex sat in front of the large window in the living room. The soft glow of the TV is the only thing illuminating the room as Dex had remained glued to his post since the sun went down, just watching.
Watching you.
You sat on your fire escape, your phone held up to your ear in one hand while the other rolled the filter of the cigarette you were smoking between your fingers. You put the extinguished cigarette in the ashtray you had seated on the windowsill next to you and begin to reach for the pack for another, just to realize it’s empty. You curse to yourself, then climb through the window back into your apartment.
A smile creeps onto Dex’s face watching you grab a hoodie off your bedpost before jumping into a pair of sweatpants. You leave your apartment, and Dex loses sight of you momentarily.
In this time, Dex exits his own commandeered unit, but stays to the shadows once he’s out on the street, keeping out of your eyesight as you leave your building.
Dex waits until you enter the deli on the corner before he crosses the street and hoists himself up onto your fire escape with a practiced ease.
He finds the window to your apartment left wide open and climbs through it himself. Dex looks around your bedroom, seeing the familiar grey sheets hazardously thrown across the bed from when you overslept this morning, leaving it unmade. Carefully making his way around your room, he stops at your vanity, examining the new pictures you have stuck to the mirror alongside the old ones Dex has already seen before.
As he reaches for the closet doors, he stops in his tracks when a piece of blue fabric lying on the floor catches his eye. He bunches the soft lace-lined cotton material between his fingers as he brings it to his nose, deeply inhaling your scent. Dex clenches his jaw and balls up his fists even tighter, feeling the primal urges stirring deep within him.
He hears your voice from the other side of the front door, still talking on the phone as you shove your key into the lock. Dex stuffs your panties into his pocket before he leaves the same way he came in.
Thursday
Dex has been staring into the dark window of your apartment for an hour now.
With a few errands of his own to run earlier, Dex couldn’t follow you to work or even drop by your office building to watch you have lunch at your desk today. But having your work schedule memorized, he knows you should be home by now.
Your bedroom window was wide open yet again, and it beckoned Dex across the street like a siren’s song.
He ignores every rational thought that screams at him not to as he crosses the short distance from his side of the street to yours.
Climbing through your window, Dex’s eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of the room, looking around to see no one in sight. He instead finds a trail of clothes leading out of the room like breadcrumbs down the hallway, where he sees a sliver of light peaking through the bathroom door.
You are home.
Instead of turning around like he told himself he should’ve, Dex continues to follow the sound of the shower running, carefully making his way down the hall. Right outside the bathroom lies another pair of discarded panties. It’s nearly instinctual now for him to bend down and pick them up to add to his growing collection in his bedside drawer back at his apartment.
With the bathroom door left slightly ajar, Dex nudges it gently, further opening it for him to look inside.
You were obstructed behind the glass from the condensation clinging to the shower door, but he’s still able to make out the suds of soap cascading down your body as you bathe yourself. Standing under the stream of warm water, he can visibly see the tension dissipating from your shoulders. Your body wash clings to the humidity of the small space, enticing Dex further into the bathroom. His hands itch to touch you, wishing they were running all over you instead of your own.
Dex nearly reaches for the shower door handle when he hears the sound of your phone ringing from your bedroom, breaking him out of his trance.
He retreats back to your room to find your phone charging on your dresser, lit up with a call from your father. You must be speaking to him again. Dex watches the call go to voicemail before he picks up your phone and unlocks it. He smiles to himself. Of course, your passcode remains the same even after all this time.
After looking through your messages and finding nothing exciting among the threads with your coworkers, Dex swipes open your camera roll to see the recent food you’ve been eating, the bars you’ve been frequenting, and the friends you’ve been hanging out with.
“You could’ve used the door, you know.”
Too distracted catching himself up on your life, Dex didn’t hear the shower shut off. Nor did he hear your footsteps enter the room.
“You know where I usually leave the key,” you say.
This was an issue Dex kept having with you—he let his guard down.
Dex looks to see you illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the window. You’re only clad in a towel with your arms crossed over your chest, looking at him like he were a child caught with his hand in the candy jar. He feels the blood draining from his face and remains frozen in the shadows.
“I should go,” is all he says as he begins to back away toward the window.
“Why even come at all then?” You stop him before he can leave again.
A beat of silence passes before Dex admits, “I needed to.”
You reach over to flip on the light switch.
“Don’t.” Dex switches the lamp off before you could get a good look at his face. But you ignore his warning and turn the light back on.
Dex can’t tear his eyes away from yours as you approach, worried about what they might tell him once you see him up close. But all they hold is sorrow; the sight of the fully healed scar across his cheek breaks your heart all over again.
“Oh, Ben.” You caress his face gently, and he immediately leans into your touch.
Dex caves in, pulling you into his arms and locking you into a tight hug like someone would come and rip you away from him. “I needed to see you,” he mumbles into your hair.
“Seems like you’ve been seeing me just fine,” you say, nodding toward the open window that faces his apartment.
He opens his mouth to question how you could’ve known, but you beat him to it.
“After hearing about an inmate escaping from Riker’s merely hours before an attempt is made on the mayor’s life by a sniper, it was pretty easy to figure out whose prying eyes have been watching from across the street.” You know him all too well—it kinda scares him. “I missed you, too,” you peck his lips.
One kiss was all it took for his entire resolve to break.
Dex flattens his hands against your spine to pull you in for a kiss again. Your lips meet in a hungry, needy clash of tongues, making your knees nearly buckle.
You only pull away when you feel your towel loosen around your body, threatening to unravel.
“Wanna let me get some clothes on?” you ask between giggles, attempting to pull away from Dex as you readjust.
“Why would I wanna do that?” he barely budges, firmly keeping you flush against his chest.
“I’m still very much naked under this.” you raise a brow.
“And you’re still wearing too much if you ask me,” he lowers his head to your neck, letting the faint scent of shea butter lingering on your skin flood his senses. But then Dex feels the uneven skitter of your pulse when he softly presses his lips to your jugular.
“What is it?” Dex asks, searching for an answer in your eyes. He can read you as well as his favorite book; there’s not much you could hide from him if you really tried.
“A lot can change in a year,” is all you say.
He certainly did.
Dex was fit before, but he’s practically doubled in size since. The thin material of his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves contouring his bulging biceps, while his sweatpants hang low on his hips, hugging his deliciously thick thighs.
“I can see,” Dex grins, sliding his hand down to your lower back, “You somehow got more beautiful,” he tells you, planting a kiss on your cheek.
You involuntarily roll your eyes, “you’re just saying that,” you mutter.
“Oh am I now?” Dex’s brows stitch together incredulously, “I kinda find that hard to believe when that new coworker of yours tries to find every excuse under the sun just to come and talk to you. He spends more time leaning in the doorway of your office than he does at his own desk.”
You laugh. How long has he been watching?
“Brian’s just a friend.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve seen how he looks at you. I mean, he was practically drooling when you came in yesterday wearing that baby blue dress.” It’s not like Dex could forget, even if he wanted to—it took everything in him not to put a bullet between Brian’s eyes as he walked to his car after clocking out.
“A lot can change in a year but what I feel about you hasn’t.” Dex says, “Unless it’s how you feel about me that’s changed,” you can visibly see the worry weighing on his shoulders.
“I wouldn’t have left the window open for you all these nights if it had,” you smile.
Dex kisses you again, but this time softer—slower. He gently cups your face, deepening the kiss as you crane your neck. Dex runs his tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the minty mouthwash you had rinsed with before you found him in your room.
Your hands travel up his chest, and it intimidates you a bit, feeling the difference in his size from the last time you saw him—felt him. Dex lowers himself to grab the back of your thighs and hoists you off the ground in one swift motion. You gasp into his mouth, feeling your feet leave the ground, and grab onto Dex’s shoulders. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, and you grab his face eagerly accepting.
Dex takes his time walking over to your bed like he wanted you to savor every moment just as he was.
He sits down at the edge of your bed with you straddling his lap without breaking the kiss. You only part from his lips to catch your breath. Dex chases after your lips, desperate for more, forgetting he needed to breathe himself. He opens his eyes to find you looking at him.
You run a hand through his hair, slightly tugging his head back. Dex’s low-lidded lashes flutter as he grips the soft plush on your thighs, trying to fight those primal urges yet again. He’s waited this long to have you in his arms again; he didn’t want to rush this moment with you.
“My beautiful, beautiful angel,” Dex mutters as he drags you by your thighs higher up on his lap, seating you right on top of the bulge tenting his pants.
He begins littering kisses across your chest, and you arch into his touch.
“Dex,” you sigh, carding your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.
“Yeah?” he lowly draws out.
“Touch me.”
“I am,” he laughs.
“Don’t be such fucking tease. Not now, been too long,” the second half of that sentence came out as a whine.
Dex slides his hand under your towel, carefully dragging his hand across the skin of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.
“Like this you mean?” he spreads your folds, softly petting your clit.
Dex slips two of his fingers inside of you, musing as he watches your face contort with pleasure. He languidly curled his fingers inside of you, moving at a slow come-hither motion as your hips begin to rock against his hand.
He croons, feeling your warm, wet walls open up for him. Dex keeps his eyes locked on you as you desperately grind against his hands, wishing he’d move his fingers. But Dex knows that’d be too easy. He knows your body too well; he could definitely make you cum with his hands tied behind his back.
“That’s it, pretty girl, get yourself off for me.” his arm flexes with each gentle stroke of his digits against your gummy walls.
“Dex, please,” You desperately whine as he pulls his fingers away just enough to stay gloved by your pussy but just missing that sweet spot inside of you.
He finally gave in to your pleas and sank his fingers the rest of the way until his middle and ring fingers were knuckle deep inside of you.
You buried your head into Dex’s shoulder as you gush onto his hand. Dex slowly pumps his fingers, hitting that soft spongy spot inside of you every time. You grab onto his arm, gently digging your nails into his skin as you feel yourself get closer to coming.
He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight, calculated circles, and you cling to Dex’s shoulders tighter. He flips you onto the bed, lying you down while keeping his fingers buried inside of you.
His eyes stay trained on your face as he hovers over you.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Dex whispers in your ear, “Wanna feel your pretty pussy cum for me.” You feel him smile against your skin as your hips rise from the bed, chasing after that high. Your back arches and your thighs tremble. Your walls spasm around Dex’s fingers as they ferociously fuck you through your orgasm. The harmony of your whiny moans and obscene, slick squelching from between your legs filled Dex’s ears euphoniously. He basks in your beautiful sounds.
Your fingers wrapping around his wrist gets Dex to slow down before he slips his wet fingers out of your heat. Dex examines his glistening fingers as they catch the moonlight, coated with your arousal, before bringing them to his mouth and licking your juices clean off his hand.
“God, I’ve missed the taste of you,” he says before lowering his head to your neck, softly licking and nipping your skin between his teeth. Dex presses open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as he inches a hand up your thigh, pushing your towel open further. His hand continues the rest of the way up your body, until the rest of the towel unravels.
Dex sits back on his haunches, taking in your bare figure laid out before him like a gift he just unwrapped, and runs a hand through his hair.
As Dex’s eyes slowly drink you in, you were suddenly hyper aware of how exposed you feel while he was still fully clothed. You attempt to re-cover yourself, but Dex stops you by pinning your arms to the mattress beside your head.
“Oh, darling, don’t go trying to hide from me now,” he darkly smiles. Dex begins to make his way down your body, alternating between soft kisses and love bites.
He releases your arms to let his hands roam all over you, groping and kneading every part of your body. His calloused hands cupped your breasts, humming in delight as he welcomed the weight of them in his hands.
Dex buries his face between the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking your skin to leave red splotches that would blossom into purple bruises. Dex was careful of where he placed them, making sure you’d just barely be able to hide them; only visible to those staring hard at your cleavage—like a certain coworker of yours.
He rolls his thumbs over your pearled nipples, tweaking them between his deft fingers. You yelp, nearly grinding your hips against his clothed thigh.
Dex settles between your legs, shouldering them wider apart to make room for his broad frame. He kisses each of your thighs, directing them over his shoulders. Without hesitation, he laps at your folds, tasting the remnants of your previous orgasm. Dex hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to his face, burying his head deeper into your pussy. Your legs threaten to close around his head, the skin of your inner thighs scratching the stubble on his cheeks. But Dex’s arms barely budged, keeping you right where he wanted you.
Dex closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste of you on his tongue, gushing into his mouth like a never-ending fountain.
You could feel the growing wetness sticking to your thighs as Dex’s drool mixes with your slick, making a mess of the sheets below you. Dex brings his free hand between your legs, spreading your lips to tongue your labia.
His tongue weasels inside of you, and his nose bumps your clit, making you buck your hips against his mouth. Dex flattens one of his arms across your stomach, pinning you back to the bed. You tried to wriggle out of his hold, not because you wanted him to let go but to get him to exert more of his strength. You mewl, your head spinning as he keeps you locked in this position.
“Fuck, baby—you’re gonna make me cum again,” you moan. Your fingers comb through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp as you grip onto his dirty blonde locks.
Dex growls back in response, hungrily sucking on your clit. His tongue worked relentlessly, languidly swirling the bundle of nerves in his mouth. You cried out Dex’s name and roughly pulled on his hair, making him groan into your mound. The vibrations from his mouth send jolts of electricity up your spine, and your toes curl.
Your upper body flailed and jerked as your lower half was kept pressed against the mattress. Dex lapped up your cum, gladly drinking down your release until he felt the tense quiver of your thighs around his ears.
Dex sits up, and you look at him through your lashes, the lower half of his face wet with your juices. You watch as he licks his lips and wipes his mouth of your essence before he grabs the back of his shirt and tears it off over his head.
Your eyes run down the expanse of his chest to his defined abdomen, flexing with every slow breath he takes. You watch the muscles in his arms ripple under his skin as he begins to push his sweatpants down his hips.
Fuck me.
Dex looks up at you and laughs, “I’m getting there, sweetheart. Mind a little patience?”
Fuck, you said that out loud. No backing down now.
You slide off the bed and stand in front of him, “I’ve been patient enough, Poindexter, don’t you think?” You grab the waistband of his boxers and pull him close.
Dex brings his lips to yours, and your hands push his boxers down his thighs, freeing his dick from its confines. You take him into your hand, making him moan into your mouth. You run your thumb over the leaky slit, smearing his precum over his shaft. You twist and jerk your wrist as Dex throws his head back, giving you access to his neck. You lick a stripe up the side of his throat before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. You softly litter kisses across his neck before you return the favor and suck a bruise above his Adam’s apple.
“Fuck,” Dex sighs as he rocks his hips into your hand. He picks you up once again, guiding your legs around his waist. “I need to be inside of you,” Dex mutters against your neck, “need to feel you,” he says as he climbs onto your bed with you still clinging onto him like a sloth hanging on a tree branch. Dex sits with you in his lap, resting his cock between your wet folds. You reach between your bodies to take his cock into your hand again, rising out of his lap to guide his tip to your sopping core.
You bite your bottom lip as you feel the blunt head of his cock pushing into you. Dex roughly grunts, taking hold of your hips in both hands, trying to keep himself from slamming you down onto his lap in one go.
“Attagirl,” Dex deeply sighs, “just take it easy,” he soothingly rubs your back. His eyes fall to where your bodies connect, watching the way your pussy slowly sucks his cock the rest of the way in.
Your eyes screw shut as you drop your forehead to rest against his, feeling him fully sheathed inside of your warm cunt.
Dex wraps his arm around you, wanting to feel impossibly close to you. But even balls deep inside of you wasn’t enough for him—he wanted more. More of you.
“Holy shit, you fit around me just so perfectly,” his voice reverberates in your ear, “It’s like you were made for me.”
You hum in agreement, moving your legs from beneath you to flatten your feet on the bed and grab onto his neck.
“Just for you,” you tell him as you roll your hips.
Dex drops his hand to your lower back, letting you set the pace. You lean back, resting a hand on his thigh behind you to steady yourself as you rock your hips.
“That’s it, angel, take what you need," he rasps. "I'm all yours to use," he tells you. You moan at his words, throwing your head back with a lustful smile. You bring your lips back to Dex’s, and he swallows your sensual whimpers and cries.
You push him back onto the mattress, and his hands on your waist move south to cup your ass as Dex angles his hips up into yours. The tip of his cock easily finds your sweet spot, and you cling onto him once more. You let Dex take control, thrusting up into you at a faster—more desperate rhythm.
“Oh god, Ben, please,” you pant.
A deep growl rumbles in his chest. He slides his hands up your back, locking you into a bear hug as his thighs flex beneath you with every thrust of his hips. Your breathy whines and broken moans fill Dex’s ears while his cock repeatedly bullies your g-spot.
A smile spreads across Dex’s face as he watches you completely lose yourself on his cock. He pushes you back onto the bed, never slipping out of you as he fucks you into the mattress. He hooks an arm beneath your hips, spearing into you while using his other hand to press his thumb to your clit.
“God, you’re so wet. I can feel how close you are from the way you’re soaking me,” he says, reveling in the way your pussy pulses around him.
“M’so close…fill me up so good—feels so fucking good,” you slur.
A guttural moan rips from your throat, and your hips desperately buck into Dex’s. Your walls clamp around him as you cum. Dex nearly cums himself and quickly pulls out of you, making you whine from the sudden loss of contact.
He doesn’t leave you untouched for long, however, with his hand finding its way between your thighs once again, slipping his fingers back inside of you. You shoot upright and grab onto Dex’s arm, closing your legs around his hand.
“Dex, it’s too much please. I can’t-” tears pricked your eyes, feeling overstimulated.
“Oh but I know you can, darling. Need you to stay wet and ready for me.” Dex says like it takes much for you when it comes to him anyway.
Dex stands before you can process the emptiness his hand leaves you with. He wraps an arm around your middle, manhandling you onto your knees at the edge of the bed. Your head spins from having him toss you around like a ragdoll.
Dex brings his cock back to your slit, gently tapping your clit with his cockhead, and you fall back against his chest. Dex pushes inside of you, enrapturing you once again. He grunts deeply, letting his breath fan over your shoulder, feeling the way your warm, wet walls open up just for him. His lips press languid kisses up the back of your neck as he holds you there, not moving—just leaving his cock buried deep inside of you. You try to move your hips with his tip curving deliciously into your sweet spot, but Dex tightens his hold on you, restricting your movements.
“Just look at yourself,” he gently grabbed your face and directed your eyes to the mirror across from your bed by the window. The same mirror Dex would watch you stand in front of for half an hour, contemplating your outfits. Looking at your reflection, your lower stomach pools with arousal, seeing the scene before you. Dex slowly draws his hips back, just barely leaving his tip inside of you before filling you up again, making you shudder. “My precious angel, so needy, all fucked out. All just for me,” he says lowly in your ear.
Dex hugs your shoulders, and you feel his bicep nearly close around your neck every time his arm flexes as he thrusts into you. You weren’t worried he’d hurt you, though he was fully capable of doing so in this position. Your hands rest on his forearm, but you don’t stop him, and just roll your head back onto his shoulder.
“I’m so close, baby, please don’t stop,” you reach behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair, “Wanna cum again—wanna cum with you.”
His eyes were glued to your reflection in the mirror, intensely watching you as you fall apart. Dex’s arm around your waist pulls you back onto his cock, hitting that sweet spot inside you with such precision every time he bottoms out.
“Need me to fill you up?” he asks, and you slowly nod. “Gonna stuff you so full of my cum you’re gonna be dripping for days afterwards. Brian won’t have a doubt in his mind who you belong to then,” your velvety walls flutter around Dex, and he laughs. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh? What a fucking tease you are.”
Dex’s hand reaches down to your puffy clit, pinching the sensitive bud between his fingers. Your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train, and you see stars. Dex continues to pump his cock into you, his hips stuttering as he feels the damn begin to break inside of him. Dex sharply pounded into you, the skin of your ass roughly slapping against his lower stomach.
If Dex still wasn’t holding you, you would’ve fallen forward face first onto the mattress, your legs unable to hold you up as you cum for the fourth time tonight. Warm ropes of Dex’s cum coat your inner walls in white. You quietly chanted his name, your mind growing hazy, only able to think of the man wrapped around you. Dex leaves kisses on your shoulder as his dick begins to soften, and he slowly eases out of you.
Dex hooks an arm beneath your thighs, effortlessly scooping you up bridal style. You settle in his arms, circling your own around his neck as you kiss him.
“Ben-”
He interrupts you because he doesn’t need to hear you say it. “I know,” and he passionately kisses you.
Not wanting to let you go, Dex carries you out of your bedroom to the bathroom. He sits you on the bathroom counter, starting up the shower before opening the door to step inside. He holds his hand out for you, which you quickly accept, allowing him to pull you into the shower with him.
After your second shower of the night, you were finally able to dress yourself in one of Dex’s old Quantico shirts and now lay with your head on his chest.
The sounds of the city coming in through the window were drowned out by the sounds of Dex’s heartbeat in your ears. You feel him trace spiraling shapes on your skin with the tip of his fingers.
He breaks the comfortable silence to ask, “When did you start smoking again?”
“Few weeks after you were indicted. It’s a good distraction,” you answer, gently stroking the blonde hairs on his chest.
“It’s not good for you,” Dex says, but you can hear the hint of amusement in his tone.
You lift your head to look at him, “When has that stopped me?”
a/n: thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed <33 feedback is appreciated!!
Summary- Little boy, it was the nickname you gave Connie. He was the little kid on the block, the one who always got picked on, poor little Connie. So, of course, you were surprised when you came home to see that little Connie wasn't so little anymore.
A/n: When I processed I hadn't posted any Connie I had to get to work. So here's a little idea I had, enjoy!
CW- Mature content/ explicit sexual content, reader viewed as a stallion(not explicit), past bully! Reader, pet names & name calling(eg.., big head, Ma/mamas, pretty girl, etc), Spanish from google translate(unfortunately), not grammatically correct, ignore errors(im sleepy), dirty talk & praise(English & Spanish), mild build up, Connie w/ tattoos & a nose piercing, Connie w/ glasses, risky sex, public sex, backshots, condomless sex(wrap yo shit), P in V, rough sex, ass slapping, not the longest smut, slightly edited, etc.
“You ain't nothin’ little boy.” You’d tease Connie whenever you beat him at something, which was most things. He was a good sport even when you’d brag and taunt him every time he lost.
Your brother wasn't known as the cool boy on the block, making you the cool girl on the block. Using your brother's status as an advantage was already amazing, but the fact that you were taller than most boys on your block made you a reigning supremacy.
Out of the several kids, you chose Connie to tease the most. You couldn't recall the reason, maybe because he seemed the most vulnerable. He was the new kid in the neighborhood, the smallest, and most anxious of every other kid.
No matter the reason, you chose to pick at him the most, from how short he was to how bad he was at basketball, and never left a chance to tease him past you.
You’d push him down on the trampoline for the pure pleasure of it, claim the only swing he could get on for the pure pleasure of it, ruffle up his freshly cut hair for, you guessed it, the pure pleasure of it.
All your teasing was for the pure pleasure of feeling superior, was it toxic, and questionable? Yes, but that was your reason, to feel like the boss and it was easy to be the boss of Connie.
After six years of your torment, when you were both around thirteen your parents decided they were leaving for a better place for you and your brother to have better chances in life.
It wasn't a bizarre decision, your neighbor was beaten down, the streets laced with danger, the schools were barely holding themselves together, and crime rates were rising month by month. However, you and your brother didn't want to leave, you both protested for weeks, wanting your parents to cave and get rid of the decision but nothing worked, and you found yourself leaving your home of thirteen years.
“Guess you're leaving now, huh?” Connie walked up to where you were sitting, taking a seat on the concrete beside you.
“Yep.” You nodded, eyes pinned to the ground.
“Dang, who's gonna call me big head and tell me a suck at everything now?” His knee nudged yours, his sarcastic words being an attempt to cheer you up a bit.
You giggled, a smile cracking through your frown.
“I don't know, maybe one of the boys will take my place.” You tilted your head towards him and surprisingly, he looked disappointed himself.
“None of them will do it like you though.” He mumbled, locking eyes with you with a small pout on his lips.
“Nope, they won't. Can't do it like me.” You huffed out a laugh and he smiled.
“You know,” you started, “you need to stand up for yourself. I'm the only one allowed to push you around, don't let them do it. Got it?” He seemed surprised by your words, his eyes squinted in confusion for a second before he nodded.
“Got it.”
“Good.” You said with a shove of his shoulder. Yeah, you weren't going to change and maybe he liked that.
“{#}!” You moms voice rippled through the air.
“Gotta go to Virginia I guess. See you someday, ‘kay?” You stood up unwillingly, then holding out your hand for him to grab
“Yeah, someday.” He took your hand and lifted himself.
The silence fell over you two for a second, just eye contact with faint smiles tracing your lips. Hand in hand, eyes connected, and a silence that spoke for itself.
Then your mom shouted again.
With one last nod, you ran off to the truck. He watched the whole process carefully, never stepping away from his spot. He watched the car ride off, he watched you wave through the window one last time, he watched as you slowly turned back into your seat, and he watched the car fade in the distance till he couldn't see it.
Little Connie should have felt relief but he didn't, he felt like he had lost one of the only things important to him. Yeah, you were his bully but you were the only kid who actually spoke to him, even if you teased and poked at him, you were the only one he could spend time with.
So watching you ride off into the distance ached his heart in ways he had never felt before, he asked himself if it's what your heartbreaking felt like. Wondered what life would be like with you being miles and miles away from him, he couldn't bear the thought. So, he let go of the heavy feelings and ran back into his house, hoping to forget you.
When you rode out to your neighbor you couldn't help but drop one tear, just one. The only place you ever called home was vanishing right before your eyes, all your friends, your childhood home, and even Connie.
People always told you that you chose to bully Connie because you had a crush on him, you never believed it but as you felt that strange clenching feeling in your chest as you watched Connie’s face fade away told you otherwise. Maybe you did have a crush on him, is that why you chose to pick on him? To deny your feelings for him?
Even if that's what it was, it was too late.
You weren't ready to lose it all, everything you had ever known, and you were being dragged away from it. It was cruel and wrong, you spent weeks crying and begging to your parents to get that point across, trying to convince them that they couldn't take you away. It never worked, they wouldn't budge even when they saw the pain it brought you, you didn't believe their excuses, ‘it’s for the better’, ‘it’ll be good for you’. You didn't care, it was wrong and selfish, you could bet they were only doing it for their own pleasure.
That day you vowed, you’d be back one day.
—
You and your brother rode the streets of your old neighborhood, following the sound of the boisterous music blasting through the streets.
After your graduation, you and your brother arranged to visit your old neighborhood for the memories. It had been several years, both of you had finished college, both of you had jobs and were earning a good salary, which made you wonder what your old friends and family were up to.
As you rode down the street you gazed out of the window, the old corner store that was next to the liquor store, the random beaten-down old sheds, the small schools somehow still standing, your old house, your friends' houses, and Connie’s. Seeing his home, two cars still parked in front of it, made you wonder where’d he go in life. Did he take your advice, did grow a pair, what did he do all these years?
Your mind was flooded with questions, but it slowly began to drift when the music led you to a small gas station. The vibration of ‘Call Back’ by Don Toliver, pulsed through the ground. The area was lively, the constant motion of people dancing, the sounds of them chatting and singing with music lit the atmosphere.
Then you spotted him, or someone you thought was him. He was taller and lean, not short skin and bones, Connie. He had a white hood draped over his head with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, glasses with a small but noticeable tattoo under his eyes.
“Is that Connie?” You lifted to get a better look as your brother drove into the space.
“Who?” You piqued his interest.
“Standing by the door.” You pointed in his direction, and your brother's eyes darted over.
“Nah, Connie was little as fuck with a head twice his size.” He pulled the car to a stop and pushed his door open.
“Connie?!” Your brother called out to him, unable to catch his attention.
“See, not Connie.” He tried to prove.
“Hey, big head!” Connie's head lifted at the sound of your familiar voice and words, taking his earbuds out while squinting in your direction. You saw a small smile tease his lips when he got a good look at you, like he was happy to see you.
“Damn, guess it is him.” Your brother shrugged with his lips in a thin line before turning off to find his old friends and you proceeded to walk up to Connie.
“Connie?” You asked when you got in front of him.
“Yes?” He answered teasingly with a grin on his face.
“What the hell happened?” Your eyes ran over him, tattoos could be seen on his hands and on his neck, he was fit and more athletic than he ever was before.
“I don't know-” He was cut off by you pulling him into a hug, and he awkwardly stood there for a second, arms dangling on either side of you.
Noticing he wasn't hugging you back, you pulled back slightly looking up at him.
“What you forget how to hug, too cool for that?” He chuckled at your comment before wrapping his arms tight around your waist.
Feeling his muscular arms wrapped around you and his solid chest pressed against your was something unexpected that you weren't exactly mad about.
“Jesus, you used to be so little Connie!” You exclaimed as you both pulled out of the hug.
“Not anymore,” he paused for a second, eyes running over your body lustfully, “how ‘bout we catch up some mamas?” He nodded his head back and guided you to the back of the building.
—
How’d catching up turn into him hammering your insides relentlessly? You didn't know, it started with talking, then his hands were traveling up your thighs, then you were kissing, next you know, you were pinned against the wall letting him rock into you from behind.
The flesh of your ass slammed against his pelvis, with each pull back leaving trails of sticky fluids, your ass was sore from his merciless pounding and pace.
“Buena chica, así es.” He cooed in your ear, hands gripping your hips tightly as he hauled his length in and out of your opening. Your lubricated folds wrapped around his girth, the creamy barriers of your walls leaving him drenched and hard.
You felt one of his hands leave your hip and not long after you felt a slam against the meat of your ass.
Slap
The noise rippled through the air and you struggled to bite back your cries. You could feel your cilt pulsing and hole gaping, begging to be stuffed with milk.
“Con…fuuck, slow down!” You squealed in his ear, biting the corner of your lip in a desperate attempt to stay quiet.
“You got ma, take all of me, pretty girl.” He plowed himself deeper inside of you, his bulging tip pinned against your sensitive sweet spot. He groaned heavily in your ear, dragging himself back till you were clenching his cockhead, then slamming back into you colliding himself with your cervix.
His mushroom tip throbbed and twitched, drowned in your sappy cunt. The veins on his cock bulged, getting more sensitive each time he hammered into you.
He didn't slow down, he kept his pace merciless and full of momentum that knocked the air out of your lungs. You struggled to swallow back the whines spewing from you throat coming through your bitten lip as squeals.
Slap
Slap
Two more hard sticks the underside of your ass, the heavy fat jiggling from the clash between the meat and his hand. His heavy hits only resulted in you getting more excited and jolts through your back and pulsations in your desperate cilt.
Your tight walls embraced all of him, hugging each inch of his twitching cock, you clasped just right on the underside of his throbbing and sensitive vein of his cock causing groans to pour from his lips.
“Ordéñame, nena.” You heard his low desperate moan in your ear, and it triggered you to do exactly that.
One last clench caused him to twitch the shoot out hot loads of cum into you, stuffing you full and deep. His cream rode out of you and down onto himself, he crashed his head down onto your shoulder and panted.
Your hips jolted forward and your hole spasmed around him as you were long after. Choking on the moans that dared to spill from your lips, your juices spraying out of you and soaking both of you and the ground beneath you.
The aftermath flowed over you with pants and moans, sweat and fluid soaked clinging against each other, both disheveled and tired.
