Earl Grey is my favorite shade... @angloanon - Tumblr Blog

♡ mama's gonna give you love ♡

♡ pairing: baran al-hashimi x youngerfem!reader x michael robinavitch

♡ synopsis: hardly able to take her eyes or attention off of you for months, baran finally takes the initiative to break the ice you seem so intent on keeping frozen between you. when she proves herself to be someone you can finally trust your heart with, she makes an offer to robby as well to join her in loving you, as she only wants for you to be happy and content.

♡ content: enemies-to-lovers (at least for reader), mommy kink, age-gap, nipple play, reader sucks on baran's nipples, use of mama/mommy, mommy issues, fingering, baran is a caretaker, cuddling, fluff, p in v sex, creampie, threesome, lotus flower position, use of sex toys, mommy/reader/daddy dynamic, sexualizing that old man's belly & ed

♡ a/n: yeah, yeah, ik i've said that i don't do age-gap, but this one was written for my own self-indulgence.

When Dr. Al-Hashimi sidles up next to you, you grit your teeth and click quickly through the patient portal displayed on the iPad you hold, wanting to rid yourself of her presence as soon as possible. Because God forbid she question why you're not utilizing her erroneous AI trap; allowing it to learn what you do so it can make you obsolete when the time comes.

Perhaps it's easy for her to push, since she's far closer to retirement than you—though, it's still admittedly a couple decades away for even the likes of her—but it will be a cold day in Hell before you acquiesce and risk the well-being of a patient just to shave a few minutes off of your daily charting.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" Baran asks quietly.

Fast you had been moving, but clearly not fast enough.

Should've just walked away with the damn thing instead.

"I would have to think about you to feel one way or another," you state before glancing to her. "But I don't."

When you return your attentions to the glossy screen in front of you, an amused smirk tugs at her painted feline lips. Even Santos was less of a challenge than the likes of you, which she deemed surprising. You seem so sweet with Robby, so perhaps it's female authority which you take specific issue with, then. Baran imagines she won't need to dig terribly deep to discover just why that is.

Internalized misogyny is certainly one possibility, but since you're so friendly with Dr. McKay, and even the charge nurse, Dana, it leaves her curious as to whether it's simply due to resentment. Resentment...because you think when female figures well above you in the workplace grant you strict instruction, it's really meant to be a slight. Because you believe that they're slyly attempting to 'mother' you.

"Is it because you take personal qualms with my being a proponent of using AI, so as to expedite the process of charting, or something else?"

Sure does love $10 words, doesn't she? Maybe if you smack her over the head with the tablet, she'll finally leave you be.

"Nope, I think that just about covers it," you quip.

She sighs while taking a small step forward—wholly closing the gap between the two of you. "I only wish to help. To—"

You turn abruptly toward her. "You may not have any problem with making yourself obsolete, Dr. Al-Hashimi, but I value my job and right to work. Every time we use AI, we're further teaching it how to get rid of us. And until your little 2% error rate shrinks to that of zero, I consider it an incredibly dangerous tool."

"That is why proof-reading is essential—"

You throw your head back and laugh mirthlessly. "Because never will anyone ever get lazy or sloppy, end up skimming through a chart rife with typos and misdiagnoses at the end of a double, and kill a patient because they were in a rush to get home. It's something that will grow in fervor and cost multiple lives before an end is finally put to it. There's no place for it here. Not in emergent medicine, and certainly not at PTMC."

You toss the tablet down with a thud. "But I'm sure I won't have to worry about it for much longer, because I assume that if you get your way, you'll make its use conditional to our employment here."

She ignores the way her palm twitches from your insolence. "To begin with, I don't have that kind of pull. I'm an employee, just like you. Secondly," she begins while leveling you with a stoic gaze. "I encourage all of you to do what works best for your particular methods. If that's traditional charting, then so be it. I merely want to give some of us an opportunity to reclaim our lives outside of work. Burnout is a very real problem in the medical field, as you well know."

Much like a cornered dog, you can feel your hackles rising. Glancing toward an exam room, you force a smile. "I have patients to get to. Excuse me."

With arms folded behind her back and a pulse that has now skyrocketed, Baran watches you walk away.

She tries one last time at the end of your shift. What she means to do—what Baran desires—will only serve to benefit you. In so many wonderful ways.

She just needs you to give her a chance first.

"Come have a drink with me after work," she offers softly.

You bite back a sarcastic laugh. This woman has no idea how to take a hint, does she? "I don't drink and drive."

Baran releases a long, calming breath. "Bars do have non-alcoholic drinks. I'll order you a Shirley Temple. Or a cup of ice water, if you prefer."

She'll order for you, huh? God, she really can't help but to call all the shots, can she?

You open your mouth to retort, but she speaks first. "I'm not trying to be your enemy. I want us to get along, and for me to be someone you feel safe in coming to—whether with questions, concerns, or because you simply need help. It's important as an attending that you find me approachable. Otherwise, if you refrain from seeking me out when, say, Dr. Robinavitch is otherwise detained, those errors you were so concerned with earlier will still happen, but due strictly to your own pride."

Maybe if you go you can bust a bottle over her head. There's something about this woman and her making you want to commit battery...

"Dr. Robby always makes time for me," you shoot back while sliding your bag over your shoulder.

Leaning against the locker next to yours, Baran crosses her arms. "Yes, he does seem to have that quality: prioritizing you." She leans in. "He wouldn't be the only one if you would simply talk to me; open up a little."

Your locker clicks shut and your eyes flit between hers.

You've been professional with her, as well as cordial. Or...as cordial as you can manage, anyway. But friendly? Gag. Things will only get more difficult for you around here, however, if you let this tension develop into pure strain.

"When I've finished my water, I'm leaving."

A smile curls her lips. "Then we have a deal."

You step past her and roll your eyes.

"Should we take your car or mine?" she questions—almost giddily.

Baran knows she's pushing her luck, but she has you so close now.

"I'll follow you," you reply. "I want my car with me for when I'm ready to head home."

Once the bartender has plopped down a cup of ice water slick with condensation onto a worn coaster in front of you, Baran's invisible timer starts to tick.

"And for you?" the female bartender asks the older woman seated next to you.

"I'll have a cosmopolitan, please," she replies politely.

You snort while taking a drink.

She glances to you curiously. "Is my choice of drink amusing to you?"

You lick cool water from your lips and her eyes narrows slightly. "Between it and your Lululemon jacket, I just think it's predictable."

She turns back to the bar. "On second thought—"

The bartender has just lifted a colorful glass bottle when she looks at Baran over her shoulder.

"I'll have Jack Daniels. Two fingers. Neat."

She turns back to you, expecting to find that she's made an impression. Instead, you merely shake your head.

Difficult to please, then.

She takes that as a challenge.

Once she's been afforded her drink, she takes a slow sip. "So," she begins while setting her glass down. "What made you want to go into medicine?"

Predictable question or not, you don't want to open up and grant her the answer because it's emotional and deep and blah. Why did you agree to come here again?

You hold your plastic cup near and it crinkles quietly in your hand. Feeling uncomfortable with looking at her when you answer, you keep your focus on swirling ice-cubes instead. "I don't blame people for wanting a job where they clock in, earn a paycheck, and clock out. So I don't think I'm better than anyone else. All jobs have a purpose. Including the Starbucks barista who makes people's days better by fixing their morning coffee for them. I don't even think I could do that."

She remains quiet, noting how important it seems to be to you to not come off as judgmental. Except when it comes to her and her somewhat controversial workplace methods, apparently.

"But there just...came this day a few years ago—and many days followed it—where all I could do was think about how decades from now, I'm going to look up and see that I've done nothing with my life. I don't know if I'd say that it's smart to wholly dedicate yourself to a job. It can't hold you at night or love you back, and given what we do, it's also often thankless. With that said, though, I still wanted something that made me feel fulfilled. So fifty years from now, when my body starts to go, I can look back and know that I made a difference. Not to the world or anything, just...to someone."

Baran observes how your hands tremble slightly when you take another drink.

Vulnerability is difficult for you.

"I think that's a very sweet, and an admirable answer," she states while reaching forward and settling a palm atop your thigh. "But please, don't ever push your own self aside for the hospital. For any place of employment." Her thumb begins rubbing soothing circles. "I always say that if the highest seat in the land is replaceable, then all of us are as well. As terrible as that may sound, it can help put things into perspective when need be."

She only removes her hand when she goes to take another sip of her Jack.

You feel like you can breathe easier once the contact is broken.

Hesitantly, she decides to cross over into what is presumedly considered no-man's land with you. "May I ask, is your issue with me specifically, or female authority in general?"

You sputter.

"It's just that I've observed you with Robby, and you seem to have little issue with him, even when he's laying down the law, so to speak. But he does seem quite fond of you."

Your brows furrow. "I—I don't have issues with—"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, or pry where I'm not welcome to, but... Oftentimes, I find it can be due to a strained, or estranged relationship with a young woman's mother which serves as explanation."

"She's not in the picture," you snap. "And it's none of your business."

Baran takes a beat, and her eyes flit to your now bouncing leg—her suspicions now confirmed. "All I want is to understand you. To form a connection, because like I said previously, it's paramount to me that I be a safe person for you to come to."

"I go to Robby if I need help," you snip.

You're withdrawing, and quickly.

She needs to fix this.

Settling a hand atop your forearm that rests on the bar, she grips it gently. "I'm not trying to argue with you. I just mean to reassure that if and when I do give instruction, it's because I only want the best thing for you, and our patients. Not because I am trying to mother."

Noticing how your shoulders tense, she withdraws. One last comment—which could very well bring this evening to a close—and then she'll wave her white flag. "Unless that's something you're searching for in the workplace?" She runs a slender finger around the rim of her glass. "People like to joke about a work wife or husband. But a work mother or father can perhaps be beneficial as well. To those adrift and requiring direction, that is. Especially if they're starting out."

Baran knows it's unprofessional, and that she's traipsing into dangerous territory, but this is the only chance she's going to get to change both your lives for the better, if you only let her.

She studies you from beneath her lashes. "Is Robby that to you? Husband? Father? Perhaps both?"

The realization suddenly dawns on you in that moment. She couldn't give two shits about you. You're not who she came here to get to know about, as she claims. "If you're so interested in Robby, you could just bother opening your mouth and telling him that you are yourself."

You down the last of your water before sliding off your barstool. "Instead of wasting my time by pretending like you care about me," you spit.

Sliding your bag onto your shoulder, you turn to leave.

And Baran is thrown into a whirlwind of panic. "No," she yelps. "This has nothing to do with him."

You keep heading for the door.

"This is about my preoccupation with you," Baran finally blurts out.

And you halt in your steps.

"P-Please," she stammers. "Sit. Just... Let's talk. You refuse to give me a chance to have even one decent conversation with you."

Slowly, you turn back to her on your heel. "Preoccupation?" you ask with a raised brow and crossed arms.

That certainly sounds anything but good for your job. So, what, then? Has she been observing you? Counting off any and all tiny mistakes you make to later hold them against you? Is she playing some sort of sick game where she toys with her food before tossing it at HR to finish?

Baran gently pats the seat you previously occupied with a forced smile.

With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you toss your bag onto the bartop before reluctantly seating yourself again.

Plucking the tiny red straw from her drink, she runs it over her tongue while staring at you before idly fiddling with it between her hands. "I take it you've only been with men?"

This is the most bizarre fucking conversation you've ever had with a superior before.

If anyone has grounds for a HR report now, it's you. You're sure Robby would just be tickled pink if you went that far.

"What does that—"

She regards you with a sudden, steady gaze. "I'll attempt to ask again, but clearly this time: do you need a work mother? Would that please you to have; to rely on daily?"

You blink dumbly. "What?"

Her lips twitch, and she slides a slender leg between each of yours that're propped on the bottom of the stool. "I didn't invite you out to discuss anything but yourself."

You glance toward the door, and she deflates minutely. Returning your attentions to her, you squirm. Your curiosity as to what sent her to PTMC, and away from her previous place of employment, has come to an end.

Sexual harassment. It's why she wanted you out of the workplace and alone with no witnesses.

Why does no one ever want you for the right reasons? Is this all you deserve?

Tears sting your eyes. Not so high and mighty now. No. Now you just feel afraid. "If... If I don't do what you want—"

Her eyes grow wide and she begins waving her hands in a panic. "No, no, no. Of course not! This isn't some... Some quid pro quo where you either humor me, or I make your work life a living hell for jilting me."

She scoots to the edge of her seat and takes each of your hands in hers.

You note how soft and warm they are. But still can they hurt you...

"Y/N, all I've wanted for weeks is a proper chance to talk to you. I understand your hesitancy, but I pride myself on professionalism. You have nothing to fear from me."

You chew your bottom lip nervously.

"If I asked you to accompany me home, would you be agreeable to that?" Baran inquires carefully. "Just so that we can talk in a more comfortable, and private environment." She caresses your cheek. "Would you like that?"

"I'm not sure..."

Tonight isn't turning out how you thought it would in the least. Is she just a woman with a crush? Or a bad actor? Apart from the AI hoopla, she's always come off as friendly and warm at work. Not that you've much given her the time of day to be as much toward you.

Maybe... Maybe she deserves a chance?

She nods while dropping her hand back into her lap. "How about this: you can follow me out of here and if on the way there, you turn off to head home, then we go our separate ways with no hard feelings and complete understanding. If you do come with me back to my apartment, you're still free to leave at any time you choose. Whatever makes you feel comfortable and safe is what I want you to do. Don't worry about me and my feelings whatsoever."

Your mind flies through so many scenarios. So many of them ending in termination of your employment. But others... You've never kissed a girl before. Studying her shyly from beneath your lashes, you question how she can possibly be serious about this.

Hesitantly, you pick up your bag. "Do you promise?" you ask quietly. "That I'll be okay?"

Her heart sinks. Baran understands your fear of retaliation on her side, but she knows her motives and intentions.

Never could she harm you.

Brushing her knuckles along your cheek, she smiles and nods. "You have my word, sweetie."

It's far more boho than you had previously imagined. There's long, frilly curtains which hang before floor-length windows, dangling lanterns that glow softly when Baran flips on a light switch after tossing her keys into a ceramic bowl near the door, and to your right, a kitchen that includes a stainless steel fridge. And littered throughout the space as a whole are tapestries, rugs, pottery, and plants.

"Not what you thought it would be?" she asks amusedly while shrugging off her jacket.

You hang your bag on a large hook by the entryway. "No," you reply sheepishly. "Maybe I thought it'd be—"

"Less like a home, and more like a doctor's office?" she asks with a quiet laugh.

You nod silently while nervously clasping your hands together.

Padding toward you after slipping her tennis shoes off, Baran slides her hands from the crowns of your shoulders to your own after gently prying them apart. "Would you like to sit?"

You nod again.

She turns while keeping one of your hands held tightly in hers and leads you into the living room before finally plopping down onto the couch. Settling onto the cushion next to her, you cross your legs and tug at a fraying thread on the bottom of your pant cuff.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" Baran inquires delicately.

You shake your head.

Scooting closer, she rests a hand upon your knee. "Earlier, when I asked about if you've ever desired to have an older woman to guide you, you never did reply. And I didn't just mean in the workplace to look after you professionally. I'd...very much like to outside of it as well. If you'd be amiable to that."

Scooting back, you pull a throw pillow out from behind you to hold to your chest instead. "This is weird," you mumble before pressing your mouth to the stuffed object.

Slipping a blanket off the back of the couch, she fans it over her legs. "I've spent days going over various conversational scenarios. But you're rather unpredictable," she states with a smirk. "So my preparations did me little good when faced with the reality of the situation. I apologize—truly—if I made you uneasy or uncomfortable."

Just as nervous as you, she twines a tassel from the blanket around her index finger. "The last thing I anticipated when starting this job was becoming infatuated with a resident. But the more I tried not to think about you, the worse I failed at it." Her eyes flit to yours. "You're quite remarkable."

Face half hidden behind the pillow, you shake your head. "I'm not," you say, though your words are muffled.

With your walls down like this, she finds you rather adorable, actually.

"You are to me," she replies quietly.

Your eyes flit to hers. "Still not using AI."

Baran guffaws. "Perhaps I hoped you would simply because it'd give me further opportunity to teach you."

Resting your chin atop the pillow, you grow quiet; once again unsure of what to do with yourself. And then "Why me?"

She smirks. "You seemed hard to temper. It gave me a project of sorts to think about. And," she says while walking two fingers over to your thigh. "With you being young, and wanting for maternal guidance..." she peers at you from beneath long, mascara-coated lashes. "Such a temptation was difficult to deny myself."

"So you're a cougar," you state.

A toothy grin forms from her mouth. "I hadn't thought so until quite recently." She shrugs. "I didn't feel a need to put a label on myself."

"Have you been with women before?"

Studying the patterned blanket once more, her mouth quirks to the side. "Not many. Nothing I was terribly invested in. The relationships were quite casual, in truth." Her eyes slowly roll upwards to look at you again. "Things would be vastly different between us."

From the sultry way she gazes at you, you feel your cheeks warm. This feels...quite naughty—being here with her like this. You and your attending, who's well over a decade older than yourself with a divorce and renown in the medical field, trying to seduce you on her couch while assuring you just how much she wishes to mother you...

A pleasant pulse begins between your thighs at the knowledge.

Baran grips her blanket, then tosses it behind her before scooting forward. Gently, she takes your pillow and drops it onto the floor before cupping your cheek in her hand. "Remember," she says while her full lips hover mere inches from your own. "To tell me what you want. Whether that's to stop, or for more."

You nod slightly, and then she's kissing you.

It's gradual—her lips sliding against yours before carefully prying them apart so her tongue can sweep inside your mouth. When she slides a hand up the inside of your thigh, your body jolts, followed by an unintended whine which crawls past your open lips.

She chuckles. "Do you like that?" Moving her lips to your neck, she nibbles the sensitive skin. "When I kiss you?" Her hand massages your thigh. "When I touch you?"

You loose a shaky breath. "Y-Yes."

She hums amusedly. "Would you like to go into the bedroom?" She plants another kiss upon your lips. "So I can make you more comfortable?"

You nod eagerly.

Pushed against the far wall is a king-size bed with a colorful duvet spread atop it, complete with nightstands on either side and a chest situated at the foot. Next to the door you've just entered through, a wardrobe. To the left, the bathroom.

Your surveying is cut short when Baran gets to work on unclothing you.

With a quiet eagerness, she first pushes your shirt up above your head before kneeling at your feet and forcing your pants down to your ankles.

Finding yourself at a loss for words—maybe just lost in general—you remain still while letting her continue on. You wish you could quite the storm of thoughts that rage in your head. Is it wrong? Should you stop? Could you both get in trouble?

She's a woman, she's a woman, she's a woman.

It causes you to brim with shame and guilt.

Nasty girl. How can you lust for—

"Are you alright?"

You blink. When she she stand up? Oh. She's also disrobed, minus her intimates. They're very lacy and delicate, you notice.

"What if it's wrong?" you whisper while nervously rubbing at your arm with your opposite hand.

She cradles your face between her palms. "Because we're women?"

You nod—unable to meet her eyes, you study the floor between you.

"We have loved for as long as there has been air to breathe. These politicians who try and write the rules for what everyone else can do permit themselves to use our world as their playground while proceeding to break every moralistic code there is. Before spying on us through locked doors meant to keep us safe from the harm they cause, perhaps they should sort through the skeletons in their own closets first."

She runs the pad of her thumb along your chin. "With my heritage, all men have ever done is deny me that which I am entitled to." She crushes her lips to yours before pulling back. "So I take for myself that which I want, love, and wish to have. Because no one else will ever hand it to me with a tolerant grin and spoken permission."

Your eyes brim with tears.

"Do you want me as I want you?" she asks tenderly.

You nod while settling trembling hands on her hips.

"Then let me have you," she whispers.

Kneeling between your legs again, Baran trails her tongue from the crook between your thigh and pubic bone, up to the bottom of your belly before planting hot, wet kisses along the naked skin.

With your head carelessly thrown back and one of your hands settled firmly on her naked shoulder to keep yourself standing upright, you pant languidly while white-hot heat pools between your legs.

"That's it, baby," she coos—her Bs knocking into one another, making the word sound more like 'bebe' which somehow only makes this dynamic all the more sensual—before tacking on "Let Mama take care of you."

You shudder when she calls herself that.

Pressing two fingers firmly between your dripping folds, you cry out. "You're ready," she pants. "Lie back on the bed for me, baby."

Padding over to it, you crawl atop the mattress before settling your head against the mountain of plush pillows found atop it.

You watch eagerly as Baran struts toward you, admiring her soft curves, the swell of her breasts, and her perfect olive skin.

It's so hard to believe even now, as you lie naked in her bed, that she wants you.

Sliding a knee between your spread legs, she settles her other on your right before leaning over you—leaving her breasts to hang above your face while she slips a steady hand between your damp thighs. On instinct, you lift your head and suck a rosy-brown nipple into your mouth.

Baran gasps in pleasant surprise before lowering herself to give you easier access so you may suckle quietly at her breast.

She eases two fingers inside of you and you whimper as your slick walls clench around them. "Good girl," she encourages while sliding her other hand beneath your head.

Turning the both of you onto your sides so that you're facing one other, she brings you close while continuing with her ministrations between your legs. "Shh. That's it, baby. Let me take care of you."

Sucking on her breast, your eyes fluttered closed as she rests her cheek contentedly upon the crown of your head.

Your legs falling open, she strums her thumb over your clit. "You're being so good for Mama," she murmurs before granting you an affectionate kiss on the forehead. "Just relax so that I can help you come."

You nod before switching breasts.

While she eases dripping fingers in and out of you, your heart races. Not even touching yourself has ever felt so good.

Withdrawing her digits from your cunt, you whine quietly.

"Have you ever used toys on yourself?" she asks.

You shrug. "Sometimes."

Standing, she pads over to her wardrobe before pulling open a drawer on the bottom and removing a box with a clasped lid.

When your eyes flit to her pussy, you note how her inner thighs are shimmering. "You're wet," you note with surprise.

She grins while looking at you. "It's why I'm getting them out. So we can each be pleasured at the same time."

Baran tosses a vibrator with a silicone tail and a matching remote onto the bed, followed by another that's perhaps the size of your thumb. "We'll start with these," she states.

Returning to your side, she leans back against the headboard, and you watch as she spreads her labia apart before prodding against her slick entrance with the first vibrator. Easing it inside of herself, you watch as it disappears, minus the tail. Clicking through a few settings, she settles on the fourth before setting the tiny remote aside. "Now you," she mutters before planting her palms on your knees and easing your legs back apart.

Pressing the length of her body to your side, she offers you a breast. "You can suckle from me. I don't mind."

Opening your mouth willingly, she eases a nipple inside and your lips close around it.

Sliding her hand down your stomach, she clicks on the other vibrator before circling your clit with it. The rhythmic movements make you suck all the more fervently. "That's it," she encourages breathlessly. "Do you like this? You like the way I'm touching you?"

You nod while slurping at her breast.

"Good girl," she purrs.

You lift your hips before settling again, desperate for relief to overcome you.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," she encourages. "So sweet." She slips a finger between your folds. "So perfect."

You circle her areola with your tongue and she moans.

Plucking her breast from your mouth she plants her lips against yours and gifts you a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. The vibrator now forgotten, she shoves her fingers back inside your pulsating cunt and pumps them between your slippery walls.

Each time her palms brushes your clit, you whimper in want.

"You want me to play with your clit?"

You gaze up at her beneath hooded lids.

"Is that what my baby needs?"

You nod excitedly. "Yes. Yes, please."

Popping her fingers out of you, she starts strumming at your swollen bundle of nerves instead. "Come for me when you're ready, sweetie. I want you to."

Running your fingertips down her belly and over her navel, you cup her pussy in your palm, which comes away soaked in lubrication.

"That's what your body has done to mine," she explains. "You've made Mama so very, very wet."

Maybe in a different life, hearing another woman call herself that to you would have caused you to run without stopping. But here—tonight—you want to be her girl. Her baby. Her sweetie.

You toss your head back against the pillows while squeezing your eyes shut. "A-Almost," you whimper.

Leaning her head down, she licks a wet trail from one of your nipples to the other. "That's it. Come for Mama. Come on my hand, baby."

You arch your back before settling again. "S'close," you drawl.

Strumming with ferocity, your cunt has become a wet, dripping mess of arousal. "You're so close, sweetheart," she mumbles against your forehead before kissing it. "Just a little more. A little more and you'll finally be home."

You bite down on your lower lip. "S-So sensitive."

"Oh, I know, baby," Baran says with a nod and a kiss. "I want you to come for me, sweetie. Come all over your Mama's hand. That's a good girl. Right there. Right there, baby."

Clutching the bedding beneath you, you squeeze your eyes shut before your orgasm explodes inside of you—sending shockwaves through your naked body, all the way down to your contracting cunt.

"Good girl!" She cries. "Oh, you're doing so well for Mama. Such a perfect young lady. God, look at you. You have no idea how perfect you are."

Pushing her fingers back inside you, she plunges them between your walls while you each lose yourselves in a passionate kiss where your tongues circle each other's with abandon.

Her fingering you eventually slows to a halt, followed by her pulling you into her arms.

Quivering slightly, she tugs the duvet from the other side of the bed until it's fallen over your naked form. "Thank you," she whispers.

You take a nipple back into your mouth to soothe yourself.

"My baby," she whispers lovingly while further tucking you against her naked front. "My girl."

It's been a handful of months, and you practically feel like you're floating, you always feel so light and dreamy.

Baran held true to her word, and has most assuredly become a mother figure to you, both at work and in your now shared home. Not that she wasn't forced to work for it due to your own insecurities. At the very beginning, after your first night together, you hardly spoke to her for the next few days.

And when she came to you, asking if she had done something wrong or gone too far... You sort of blew up and berated her by telling her that everyone leaves. That she got what she wanted, so she was free to go, too.

Just walk away like all the rest.

And instead of your self-sabotage working like always, she instead took you into her arms and reminded you that when she wants something, she refuses to relent until it's hers for good.

So you reluctantly let her care for you. But while still making snippy little comments—as if you were angered by her audacity to feel anything toward you but indifference—about how she'll find better, or grow bored, or finally see you for what you truly are.

All it served to do was let her in just the least bit more, though, even if that'd not been your intention. Because finally could she properly see just how deep your mother wound cut: all the way to your very soul.

The well of worthlessness within you was bottomless, but she was determined to fill it up, no matter the cost.

Because to see someone so beautiful and bright and kind hate themself so much because of what another did to them? She refused to have it. You were hers now to look after. Her purpose. The center of her universe.

She could never abandon you emotionally like another before. She'd never harm you. No, Baran would go to any length to assure your happiness.

Including one that surprises even herself.

Because while the two of you fell in love, you never drifted away from Robby. Not that she necessarily wished for you to; she knows he's important to you. But when she stood across the ED one day—about to head toward the waiting room for another patient—and caught a glimpse of him standing so close to you that his chest pressed against your side while you talked and he stared at you with eyes full of unyielding adoration... She knew she couldn't be selfish with you.

Not unless it was what you wanted.

"There's a private matter I'd like to speak to you about, Dr. Robinavitch. When you have a moment of free time, that is."

Robby grips the side of his glasses and looks at Baran over the top of them. "Free time and the Pitt don't exactly go well together, Al-Hashimi, you know that. So whatever it is, make it quick."

If looks could kill...

Forcing a polite smile, she trudges forth. "It's about your and I's favorite resident, Y/N."

Having now captured his attention, Robby sets down the tablet previously held in his hand before turning to her with crossed arms. "Is something the matter?" he asks with a raised brow.

"As I said, I'd prefer if we discussed it privately," Baran replies evenly.

He throws his hands up. "Fine, fine. Where did you have in mind?"

Shutting the door behind them, Baran heads toward the counter at the back of the Employee Lounge and casually leans back against it with crossed arms. A stance which Robby mimics.

"This is going to be a rather...unusual conversation," she begins. "And before I begin, I need you to assure me that what is said in this room remains strictly between you and I. If not for my sake, then for hers."

Already knowing he'd do anything for you, he nods while sighing with exasperation. "Yes. I promise. It stays in this room."

She nods. "I want to preface by saying that I haven't spoken to her about this yet because I didn't see the need for opening such a door if there was no...desire on your part to do so."

"Is there a stop between here and the point?" Robby asks with frustration.

She narrows her eyes. "Y/N and I have been in a relationship for the last few months."

Robby raises his brows in surprise.

Pressing the heel of his palm to one of his eyes, he shakes his head. "Moral and ethical dilemmas aside, I'm guessing this is the part where you tell me to keep my distance going forward?"

Baran feels the corner of her eye twitch. "I had considered that for obvious reasons, yes. But..." She sighs. "I also refuse to be selfish with her. Too many who came before me harmed her. In so many ways. I cannot be another one of them just for the sake of my own self-interest."

Robby slides his hands into his pockets. "Baran, I really don't see—"

"I see the way you look at her. All I ask, before my final question, is this: do you love her? Rather, are you in love with her?"

Robby grows silent for a moment. Rocking back on his heels before leveling himself on the balls of his feet, he stares at her. "Yes," he rumbles. "I'm in love with her. A feeling which you clearly understand."

She takes a beat. "I'm willing to make you an offer, then. If you are agreeable, I say the two of us share her."

Robby stills and leans forward slightly. "You propose what now?"

"I know she loves you in return. Perhaps she's never said it, but I see the guilty look on her face each time she parts from your side and comes over to me. I don't ever wish for her to feel that she needs to hide a part of herself to please me or keep the peace between us."

"This is the strangest fucking conversation I've ever had here, and given how long I've worked in the Pitt, that's truly saying something," he mumbles while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I came to you first because I didn't feel a need—incase you were disinterested—to get her hopes up, only to find out you didn't desire this arrangement. Tonight, however," she says while taking a small step forward. "I mean to talk to her about it. Gather her feelings on the matter. Only if she agrees will I inform her of our conversation here. Because I also don't want her to feel obligated to go along with things, lest she risk hurting your feelings."

He nods. "I agree. She's what matters."

She smiles. "We have an understanding then."

Making to walk past him, Robby speaks again. "How would this work, exactly? You never specified."

Turning back around, Baran folds her arms behind her. "We would be intimate with her either at your place of residence or mine, as she's now living with me. But strictly with her. Never each other."

Robby smirks with amusement. "That much is beyond clear."

"As long as we're on the same page," she quips.

"But just so I have this straight, I can only have sex with her if you're there to...what? Supervise?"

She rolls her eyes and drops her chin, not even justifying him with an answer.

He chuckles. "That is wildly unfair, and I think you know that."

Her dark brows knit together. "How so?"

"You just said it yourself: the two of you live together. Meaning that you can sleep with her at any time. But God forbid I want to have her to myself for an evening."

She shifts from one foot to the other. "I didn't think about it like that." A sigh. "Fine. Yes. If that is what she wants is a night or two with you, then with me, then with both of us—"

"You know what a recipe for disaster putting our own wants aside for the strict sake of hers could wind up being, right?"

She shrugs—seemingly unbothered. "We figure it out as we go along. Perhaps not the best laid plan, but as long as you and I share a common goal of showering her in love and affection and...intimacy, then I think we'll have little conflict."

He nods, but with a somewhat doubtful look. "Guess we'll see."

Robby starts toward the door next, but Baran steps forward this time. "Robby, one more thing."

He turns around while running a nervous hand down the back of his head. "Yeah?"

"She has a... It's a long story, but a very complicated, turbulent, and abusive relationship with a now estranged mother. The wounds she created in our girl cut so deeply that I..." She glances away and shakes her head, ignoring the tears that brim in her eyes. "I'm trying to fix by being everything Y/N wanted but couldn't have because someone else thought it appropriate to withhold love and safety from her in exchange for hate and fear."

Baran looks at him. "I'm not just lover to her, but mother. And oftentimes, she refers to me as such—Mama—I need you to prepare yourself for hearing it. If she senses any judgement from you, she will shut down. It may take me weeks to undo that damage. To coax her back out of her shell. Sometimes, I have to rock her to sleep at night. Others, she suckles at my breasts to self-soothe. If you take issue with any—"

"I don't," he interrupts. Looking at his boots, he continues. "I understand. Mine... She left when I was young. It doesn't matter, but I get it."

He raises his head. "She'll get no judgement from me."

Baran's lips tug into a frown. "I'm so sorry, Robby."

He shakes his head. "Like I said, it doesn't matter. Just that I can relate."

She rests a palm against his upper arm. "When you feel the time is right, share it with her. Please."

His eyes flit to Baran's, which have gone soft.

"The two of you can bond over it. Heal each other's hurt. Open your heart to her—to someone who knows how fragile a thing it is, and thus will never take such efforts for granted."

She drops her hand, and Robby turns the door handle. "I'll think about it. Just...let me know what she decides."

You stare at Baran with wide eyes. "He... He what?"

She grins. "He agreed as well."

Heat creeps up and causes your nose to prickle. "So— What— Do we—" You blank.

Baran resituates herself atop the mattress so that her legs are bent on either side of you, where you sit leaned back against the headboard, and she cups your face gently between her hands. "I would like for the first time to be here. In your own bed so that you're comfortable. It'll be the three of us, and it will be however you want it to be. After... If there are nights where you would like for him to take you home with him, I encourage you to."

She brushes the pad of her thumb along your lips.

"But...what about you?"

She smiles sweetly. "As long as you always come home to me, I'm happy, baby."

Standing idly by in one of Baran's old VA t-shirts, you shift nervously from one foot to the other—watching silently, and with a pounding heart, as Robby toes off his boots and Baran hangs up her jacket in the entryway.

Today being one of your days off, you spent the entirety of it jittery, nervous, and unbelievably wet.

Had you given into the temptation of touching yourself, you'd probably be downright sore by now. Instead, however, you staved it off by telling yourself to save all your pent-up sexual energy for Robby and your Mama tonight.

The latter of which pads toward you with a beaming smile. "Hi, baby," she murmurs before crushing her lips to yours.

The kiss is long and ardent—complete with her eager tongue binding with your own before she releases you with a ragged breath shuddering between your ribs.

And then your eyes flit to Robby's, and he grants you a small, grateful smile. "Hi, sweetheart," he says quietly.

Once his heavy footfalls have led him to you, you find yourself without restraint when you throw your arms around his neck and stand on tiptoes, eager to have him close.

Baran runs a hand down your back. "I'll go get the bedroom ready for us," she says softly before stepping away.

Cupping the back of your head in his large palm, Robby groans against your warm mouth.

Breaking gently away from your kiss, he presses his forehead to yours.

"How was your day?" you ask while stumbling slightly forward—your breasts brushing against the wealth of his strong, soft chest.

"Long," he chuckles. "All I could think about was tonight."

You nod with an excited smile. "Me too."

"Are you nervous?" he inquires while running a hand down your side.

You nibble on your lower lip. "Very."

"If you've changed your mind—"

You shake your head while gazing into his eyes. Eyes which look so similar to those of your beloved Baran. "I want this."

Padding out of the bedroom in only her delicates, the both of you turn to look in Baran's direction, who's standing in the doorway of the bedroom. "It's ready."

Standing near the foot of the bed, your heart flutters between your thighs as Baran removes your panties and Robby your top. Tracing calloused hands over your now exposed skin, he brushes the pads of his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before leaning down and capturing one in his mouth.

With a wanton sigh, your back arches, and you fall back against Baran.

You submerge your fingers in his hair and run them gently through his short brown strands. Meanwhile behind you, Baran trails gentle kisses from the curve of your shoulder, all the way below your ear.

"Oh, God," you moan when one of Baran's hands brushes your unoccupied breast.

With a quiet pop, Robby releases your nipple before tugging off his black scrub shirt.

Continuing to toy with your nipples, Baran rolls them between her fingers while you untie the front of Robby's pants, utterly eager to undress him just as they each have you.

Shoving them past his hips, they pool on the floor at his feet. Stepping out of them, you hook your fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs, until he stops you.

Looking up, into his eyes, he nods toward the bed without a word.

"C'mere, baby," Baran coos while turning you around to her. Quickly unhooking her bra, followed by slipping out of her panties, she pads over to the bed and leans back against the headboard with spread legs. When she beckons you to her with a manicured finger, you follow suit.

When his knees knock against the foot of the mattress, his hands hesitate at the hem of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" you ask quietly.

Baran runs a comforting hand down your arm. "If you've changed your mind—"

He shakes his head before his eyes flit to yours. "I'm not as young as I once was, sweetheart. Once you put on weight at my age, it's difficult to get it off again."

He's insecure about his body? You've always hungered over the soft swell of his stomach—how he's seemingly relaxed into himself as he's grown older. It makes you ache with desperate want. You've never seen it as anything less than utterly desirable.

You crawl toward the foot of the bed before sitting back on your haunches. Sliding your hands beneath his flannel shirt, you push it up his chest, which he removes the rest of the way before tossing it to the side.

Your palms drag from his chest, through the smatterings of coarse dark hair found all across the fleshy planes of his front, and down his belly which hangs over the fold of his briefs.

Pressing your hands against his slight gut, you whimper from desire. "Please," you plead while tugging against the waistband which shields you from the rest of him. Resting a palm against his cheek, you brush the pad of your thumb along the apple of it. "I want to see you," you whisper.

With a slight jerk of his head, he shoves his briefs down to his ankles and your mouth waters at the sight of his semi-flaccid cock. "Oh, Robby," you sigh.

Baran spreads her legs apart then in preparation for you. "C'mon, baby."

You glance to her over your shoulder and whine at the sight of her so ready.

"Make yourself comfortable so we can tend to you."

Returning to her on hands and knees, you plop yourself down between her thighs. Pulling you back against her naked breasts, she brings her lips close to your ear. "Spread your legs wide and throw them over mine," she instructs.

Doing just that, your feet are left to dangle just above the mattress. With her own feet firmly planted and legs bent at the knees, Baran has left you wide open and ready to take him.

Robby's eyes flit from her to you. "I took a Viagra on the way over here," he remarks quietly. "It may take me awhile to..."

Your head lulls back against her shoulder.

"That's alright," Baran croons while sinking two fingers into her mouth before trailing them down, between your thighs. "We've got all night."

Circling them against your clit, your hips jerk and she wraps her opposite arm around your waist—intertwining your fingers with hers. "Shh, that's it. My good girl. Let Mama make you ready for him."

Spread open like this—so wet and naked and vulnerable—causes you to worry that you won't last long. You've been so needy for it all day.

The mattress dips beside you, and when you study him from beneath hooded lids, you observe how Robby's stomach melds to the side he's laying on. His hand rubs languidly at his cock which is gradually filling with blood how he needs it to if he's to please you.

Repositioning, he slides a hand up your right inner thigh and watches as Baran toys with your slick, weeping cunt.

"She's ready," she murmurs. "Whenever you are. She should be plenty wet enough to take the length of you."

Your pussy pulsates when she speaks like that—like you're a soft, sweet sex toy for them to use for their own releases.

Once Robby has achieved manhood, he settles onto his knees between your spread legs.

He runs a palm from your naked breast, all the way to your sensitive clit, which he brushes his thumb along the swell of. "You're sure?" he asks one final time.

You nod reverently while scooting forward the least bit, assuring him that you need this to happen.

He comes so close that the tops of his thighs brush against the bottoms of Baran's. Robby rubs the tip of his weeping cock against your entrance and you pant with eager anticipation.

And then— "Fuck!" he curses with quiet irritation.

Baran stills.

"What's wrong?" you ask through clouded eyes.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He glances to Baran. "The only thing I had to remember and I forgot it."

He cups your cheek while continuing to stroke himself. "Honey, I don't have any condoms on me."

"It's fine," you blurt.

Baran leans her head to the side to look at you. "Are you sure, baby? This is what you want?"

You nod while reaching for his throbbing member. "Yes. I do."

He lines himself back up again, continuing to tease your slick entrance until his tip is coated in your arousal. "I don't know if I'll be able to pull out—"

"I don't want you to."

His eyes flit between yours with uncertainty.

"It's okay," you sigh with a nod. "I want you to finish right here," you say while spreading your labia.

Robby slowly eases forward inch by inch.

You throw your head back and your eyes flutter closed. A moan escapes your lips when he's not even halfway there.

"You're doing so, so well for us, sweetheart," Baran encourages while tugging at your pert nipples. "You're taking his cock so incredibly well. Look," she encourages gently.

Your head falls forward weakly and you study how he's now only halfway submerged—the remainder of him thick and veiny, with a healthy tuft of hair sitting above the shaft.

Gently, your walls squeeze around him at the side—trying their utmost to aid you by swallowing the rest of him.

"More," Baran insists. "Let our girl have more. She needs this."

Grabbing your hips, Robby scoots forward on his knees and sinks further in.

Your walls stretch to accommodate his girth; your own self-made lubricant from your arousal causing him to practically slide inside of you.

When he finally bottoms out against your cunt, you cry from sheer, unadulterated lust from the feeling of his belly hanging between you. It covers where he's buried inside of you, as well as your pubic area it's so soft.

Gently pawing at it, Robby begins to rock his hips against yours—sending his belly slapping against your heated skin.

"Oh, my perfect girl," Baran coos while fondling your breasts. "Mama is so very proud of you for taking every inch."

You sigh while leaning your head back, wanting a kiss from her.

And she grants it to you when Baran plants her lips firmly atop your own. Swiveling her head from side to side, she makes love to your mouth while Robby fucks himself between your thighs. "That feel good?" she sighs. "His cock inside your pussy?"

You nod slowly; your body utterly relaxed. "Yes, Mama."

You worry it bothers her—having someone else here; a man—and being forced to watch him have sex with you. "D'you like it?" you mumble.

She grins, and kisses your cheek. "I like my special girl getting her needs taken care of. That is what I like," she says while sliding her hand beneath Robby's belly to circle your swollen clit.

Robby grunts, then squeezes your hips in his hands while sliding you further down until your legs are stretched so wide that you can hardly take anymore.

"So open and vulnerable, aren't you, baby?" Baran purrs while sinking a hand between her own thighs.

Sighing breathily, you pull Robby's face toward you, and you giggle when his beard scratches the soft skin of your face. "'S good," you mumble. "I like it."

He kisses your neck. "C'mere, sweetheart," he whispers while wrapping your arms around his neck.

Bringing the two of you into the lotus flower position, He groans before pausing his ministrations for a moment to reposition himself against the headboard. "I'm sorry, honey, my back is fuckin' killin' me."

Once he's made himself comfortable, Baran slides a hand down your back while pressing her bare front to your side. "Good?" she asks Robby with a raised brow.

He nods, and she returns it.

Grabbing your hips between her hands, she begins to guide you. "Just like that. Rock your hips—good. Good girl. Such a fast learner. Little faster—perfect."

She rests back on her haunches, and you keep one arm circled around Robby's neck and the other thrown over her shoulders.

One moment, you have his tongue in your mouth, and the next it's hers.

You get so lost in the sex and how their each guiding your body, that you soon lose track of who is touching and kissing you where.

"Fuck," Robby growls while taking hold of your hips again. "I'm gonna come."

Baran grips your chin in her hand, noting how you drool and the shallow pants that fall from your lips. "Are you ready for this, sweetheart? Hm? For him to fill you up?"

You nod fervently while slurring your reply. "Yes, yes, yes."

Bouncing sloppily on his cock, Robby throws his head back and groans from behind clenched teeth as he spills himself inside of you in long, thick spurts of semen.

You shudder and release a strangled cry from how wonderful it feels as it shoots into your slick, abused core that only wants impossibly for more of what he's already given you.

Baran grabs your face between her hands while cupping your cheeks. "Do you have any idea how we'll you've done?"

You smile lazily. "I did good, Mama?"

She crushes her lips to yours so hard that your teeth knock together. You mewl against her tongue while sucking it into your own mouth. "Perfect," she states with finality as a tendril of spits hangs between you.

When you slide off of Robby's red, swollen cock, his cum spills out of you and onto the sheets, his thighs, and your own there's so much of it.

You swipe your fingers along your clit and curse quietly.

"Did you come on it, baby?" Baran asks while circling her own clit.

Robby slides a hand down your side.

"A-Almost."

He sighs. "I'm sorry, honey. Just give me a bit and—"

Baran pulls you back toward her until you're in the same position as earlier. With your messy cunt displayed for him, she sinks two fingers inside of you. "You can watch. Watch how I make our girl come for both of us."

Hammering her fingers away between your cum slick walls, it coats her hand, but she seems to care naught as she switches between plunging away and quickly strumming those same fingers along your twitching clit.

"More, Mama," you plead—so desperate for your orgasm that you fear you may start crying.

"I know, baby," she comforts. "You're so close. Mama is going to get you to your release. Just relax."

Lying on his side again, Robby plants kisses along your calves and thighs and knees, watching Baran tend to you.

You gasp quietly. "Almost there."

Robby cups the back of your head in his palm. "That's it, sweetheart."

"Squeeze around my fingers," Baran commands. And your body does just as commanded. "Tight, tight, tight," she mumbles. "Good. So good."

Squirming against Baran, you squeal quietly when she strums and gently smacks your clit.

Fisting the sheets beneath you, you squeeze your eyes shut while throwing your head back against her shoulder.

Robby slips two fingers inside of you and pumps them between your hot, fluttering walls that're still so slick with his cum until you finally orgasm for them both in a torrent of tears and sexual relief.

"Oh, that is my perfect girl," Baran coos. "You did so well for Mama and Daddy," she murmurs while threading her fingers between yours.

You smile weakly while practically melting against their hands and lips, knowing that you have everything in this moment that you've ever wanted.

You and Robby jumped in the shower together afterward and you washed him first while Baran cleaned up the bed so you could all lie down after bathing.

When she enters the steamy, sudsy space, she lathers the back of your body with soap while Robby sees to the front. You simply stand between them, and allow two people whom you hardly feel that you deserve, to take tender-loving care of your vulnerable body.

"She do that a lot?" Robby asks quietly from behind you.

Now in bed, you're snuggled up between them: Robby's naked body—minus him wearing a pair of briefs—pressed firmly against your back, including the swell of his stomach melded against the curve of your spine, and Baran against your front.

Releasing her nipple from your mouth, you turn your head minutely in his direction. "Does it bother you?" you ask uncertainly.

He kisses your bare shoulder and shakes his head. "Not at all. Just wanted to make sure Baran doesn't need a tube of cream from the hospital."

After a moment of silence, you return to suckling at her breast while she cups the back of your head.

"I have a few of lanolin in the bathroom. But thank you."

Sliding his hand over your stomach, Robby lies his head down to finally try and get some shut-eye.

"Goodnight, baby," Baran whispers.

"Goodnight, Mama," you say in return. Twining your fingers between Robby's, you give them a gentle squeeze. "I love you both." Tears well in your eyes and you blink them back in the dark. "Thank you for tonight."

"Thank you," he rasps against your ear before kissing your cheek.

Baran meanwhile presses her lips softly to yours.

When you wake the next morning, it's to an empty bed and the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Mama is awake, but you're unsure if Robby has left for work yet.

You hope not.

Once you've tended to yourself in the bathroom, you throw on the t-shirt you were wearing last night and pad silently to the doorway of the bedroom and only open it a crack. Maybe it's not entirely right to be eavesdropping, but your curiosity simply can't be helped.

"Was it how you hoped it would be?" Baran asks.

You hear a fork clinking against a plate.

"More, I think. You don't know how long I've been waiting for her to come along," Robby replies.

"I do, because I feel the same. It just...hurts me deeply every time I think of how she was treated before. The terror she suffered."

A beat of silence before she continues. "My home was already welcoming before, but it was important to me to make it exceptionally cozy for her so she would always feel completely safe within its walls."

You hear the sound of a spatula scraping against a pan, then a quiet 'thank you'.

"I did want to lay a particular ground rule," Baran states. "No arguing between us. Not here. Not...if we can help it in general. I know you and I tend to butt heads at times, but I won't have that around her whatsoever. She's been through enough, and I consider it my job now to provide stability and structure that her life was sorely lacking before."

"She's still a grown woman, Baran," Robby says quietly.

"I know," she quips. "Out there, she is. In here, she's my girl. You know better than most how she feels, I imagine, so I hope you understand that a calm environment is what's best for her wellbeing. Work is a different story. But at home? She will not live in constant survival mode when she leaves PTMC now."

"I understand. I don't like the idea of her being unhappy anymore than you do."

A glass is settled on the table.

"How late does she usually sleep on days off?" he asks.

Running water, and then quiet.

"It depends. Last night, she was exhausted for obvious reasons. But in principle, I try to let her rest as long as she likes. Why?"

"Just hoping to give her a kiss goodbye before I head out. But I don't want to wake her if she's still asleep," Robby says.

You count up to fifteen, then exit the bedroom to the sight of Robby fully dressed for work and Baran flitting about the kitchen to prepare you a plate to eat.

"Morning, baby," she chimes. "Are you hungry?"

You nod sheepishly. "I could eat."

She grins while getting you down a plate.

Robby pats his thigh and you pad over to him before settling yourself atop it.

"You sleep okay?" he murmurs while sliding an arm around your waist and taking a drink of coffee.

You cup his stubbled cheek in your palm and nod. "I did."

"Good," Baran whispers while setting a steaming plate of bacon and eggs on a tablemat near his. She grants you a soft kiss atop your head before going to the fridge to pour you a glass of orange juice.

"Did you?" you question while sliding your hand to the middle of his chest.

"Better than I have in a long time," Robby states while giving your hip a gentle squeeze.

Bringing over your drink, Baran slides a maternal hand down the back of your head.

"I'm going to have to leave soon, though, if I don't want to be late," he murmurs with a kiss to your cheek.

"Okay," you sigh before leaning in for a kiss from his lips.

Your skin sings when his beard scratches lightly against your chin while his mouth makes silent love to your own in the early morning light. When you finally rise and step reluctantly to the side, he caresses your cheek and plants a soft, paternal kiss to the top of your head.

"Will..." you hesitate. "Tonight...will..."

Baran twines her fingers between yours. "Last night was more so to see whether this arrangement would be compatible with your needs." She glances to Robby, then back to you. "But I think, going forward, for the sake of you, that things would be best left separate but equal. So you go where your heart tells you to. One night with me, one with him, and so on."

Your curious eyes flit from Robby back to Baran.

"That works for me," he agrees. "But you're both more than welcome at my place just like you've made me at yours." He takes a step toward the door. "I'll get a copy of my housekey made tonight so you can have it," he says while nodding toward you.

You nod while smiling from ear-to-ear with shimmering tears in your eyes. "I...I love you," you mutter quietly.

Coming back to you in a rush of steps, Robby crushes his lips to yours while Baran wraps you in her arms. "And we love you," she whispers.

"Yes we do," he agrees.

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