Sena

Cumming for the third time with your thighs squeezing his cock, he was already so dazed and shaky. You'd given him such a reward, and with him experiencing pure bliss, you tore him from that bliss when you slipped a fleshlight around his cock. He squeaked, eyes widening as he looked down, struggling to focus his vision. Attached to the fleshlight, there was a vibrator wand. He looked up at you, laughing nervously.

"What are you—? Did you... did you lose count?" He teased, though it came out sounding more afraid than teasing.

"No," you mused, shaking your head. You turned it on, moving it up and down, pausing at his tip. He nearly screamed, back arching off the bed as he squirmed and kicked, pulling at the handcuffs. "I just want you to feel good. Poor thing, came home so achey, so lonely," you frowned, working the toy up and down his cock, watching it throb, the head bright red and still leaky. "Isn't this a good welcome home? You do so much for me, always such a good man to me." You cooed, snuggling in closer as you sat at his side, moving the toy slower.

"Fuck!" His voice cracked, and his body seemingly couldn't decide if it was too much or not enough. Already being forced back to full hardness, he didn't wanna be left on the edge. But having cum three times, he was already too sensitive.

"No," you clicked your tongue, disapproving. "That's not how you say thank you. Shouldn't you say thank you when someone is so sweet to you?"

Leon buried his face against your shoulder, biting at the fabric of your shirt. "'S s-s-so sweet," his voice trembled, brows furrowing as he choked on his own moans. "Thank... fuck! Oh, fuck!" Before he could even register the feeling, he was spilling into the fleshlight, making him moan loudly against your shoulder as he humped against the toy, only to begin to pull away when you turned the vibration setting up to its medium setting.

"You're so close, doing so perfect for me, just say thank you, baby." You urged, your free hand coming to move gently across his chest, thumb moving slowly over one of his nipples. He whimpered.

"Thank.. mmh! Thank y-you!" He choked out between moans and gasps, yanking at the handcuffs as his vision became blurry, tears welling at his lashes.

"Oh, no!" You feigned pity, looking down at him as your hand moved from his chest to his chin, pushing his head back to look at you. "Poor baby, you gonna start crying?" You cooed.

The worst thing? He did. He did start crying. After the fifth orgasm hit, he was a sobbing, blabbering, drooling mess against your shoulder. And it still wasn't over. You offered minimal mercy by taking the vibrating fleshlight off of his cock, only to flick gently at his limp, sensitive cock. You held the softened length upright, and Leon choked when you squeezed his tip.

"Ow! Oh, fuck!" He sobbed, thighs squeezing shut, trying to push you away by moving his knees up to nudge your arm. You pushed his legs down and draped your own over his thighs. It wouldn't have taken much to have him overpower your leg, but he knew better. He simply let another cry bubble out of him as he worked him into another erection, his cum being used as a lubricant while you stroked his hardening length.

"So dirty!" You giggled, biting your lip. "You've already cum so much, made such a big mess, and you haven't even apologized for it." You cooed, lower lip jutting out as his tilted his head back and tried to bury his face into your neck, his tear stained cheeks wiping against your shoulder and neck.

"'M s-so sorry," his words were strained, a hiccup leaving him as he jolted when you ran your thumb over his slit. "God, 'm sorry!" He rasped, eyes rolling back.

"Just a few more, okay? You can do that for me, right?" You purred, voice laced with honey and deceit. He knew it was a toss-up on whether you'd stop or not. Maybe you'd stop, or maybe he'd pass out before he could see the finish line.

Leon began to lose the energy to have a physical response by the end of the sixth addition to the mess of your hand and his belly. His body shook and twitched all on its own, and he tried desperately to curl into you, crying about how sorry he was and how nice you were and how much he loved you—all of it was blabbered incoherence, hardly understandable. When you had been trying to encourage one more erection, you realized he truly was spent when all you felt after a few more insistent pumps was a limp, overused, and sensitive cock.

"Sweet thing," you cooed, gently removing your hand and wiping it along his pale thigh, leaving the mess there as you reached to retrieve the key to the handcuffs. His eyes widened in realization, and he could barely cry 'thank you' repeatedly until it stopped sounding like English. You undid the cuffs, and he fell into the bed, face falling against your chest as he regained composure and tried to stop the shaking.

You reached into the nightstand and retrieved a couple of wipes, using it to clean him up carefully, making him whimper when you had to clean his length. He squirmed and closed his legs, knees pushing your hand away. You soothed him, pulling him against you and letting him lay all of his dead weight on you.

"I know," you murmured, kissing his cheek gently. "You were so good for me, handsome. So strong." You purred, kissing along his face and soothing his hair back by running your fingers through the damp, dark blonde strands. Tear stained cheeks pressed against your chest, a small sniffle being heard as he squeezed his arms around you, clutching his fists around your shirt.

It always made you giggle when he'd cling to you after sex—no matter if he was the one giving or receiving—he'd always cling, using it to show you that he wasn't going to run away, and using it to make sure you truly were happy with his performance when he was on the submissive end of things.

"I love you, Lee," you whispered, planting one final kiss to his temple.

"Love you." He rasped quietly, lips lazily kissing at your collarbone. "Sooo, so much." He breathed, body slowly falling limp and no longer shaking as he relaxed and recovered.

Robby moved through the house on autopilot, all the years of sleep deprivation through college and twelve-hour shifts made him efficient even when he was half-awake. He stepped into Noa’s nursery, flipping on the lamp. She was working herself up in the crib, waving those little fists while her face scrunched in hunger. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, scooping her up immediately. “Daddy’s here. Let’s get you sorted.”

He laid her on the changing table and made quick work of the dirty diaper, cleaning her gently with wipes and sliding a fresh one on with the ease of someone who’d been doing this every day for two months now. “There we go, you’re all clean now. Yes, you are. Who’s a clean girl?” He cooed at her, and Noa’s cries eased a little at his voice and touch, blinking up at him with those big and round eyes.

Next, he warmed one of the bottles of your pumped milk in the small warmer on the dresser, testing the temperature carefully on his wrist the way you both always do. Back in the rocking chair, he settled Noa in the crook of his arm. She latched onto the bottle hungrily, resting her tiny hands on the bottle as she drank with contented gulps.

Robby watched her with pure adoration, rocking her slowly. “You’re adorable at everything you do, you know that?” he murmured, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. “Look at you, you’re drinking like a champ. You need to be gentle with mommy, okay? She loves feeding you, but sometimes you hurt her. She’s giving you everything she’s got, we’ve gotta take care of her too, right?”

Noa paused drinking for a moment, locking her eyes onto his face as if she was truly listening to him. Robby smiled at the adorable sight. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart, just like your mom.”

When the bottle was nearly empty, he lifted her to his shoulder for burping, patting her back in steady circles. A good burp came, but as it did, she spat up a little of the milk she’d just drunk on his shoulder. “Ah, there it is,” he chuckled, not bothered in the slightest. He grabbed a clean burp cloth from the stack, wiped her mouth and chin tenderly, then cleaned himself up. “All better. Let’s get you back to sleep with that full belly.”

Robby spread the soft blanket out on the changing table. Noa’s arms flailed once, then twice, her face scrunching in that particular pre cry warning that meant she was about three seconds from protesting. “I know, I know,” he murmured. “Hold still for your old man.”

He laid her down in the center, gently guiding one arm against her side, then the other, and began the fold. One side of the blanket came across her body, tucking firmly under the opposite side. The bottom edge came up and over her legs, and the final flap wrapped around and under, snug but not too tight, until she was neatly packaged with her arms secured and her legs gently contained, the whole of her looking exactly like a tiny burrito.

For a second she went quiet, with her eyes wide with surprise, as if she couldn’t quite believe the sudden containment. Then a defeated little sigh left her. Robby grabbed her once again, holding her against his chest.

He rocked her for a few more minutes, humming a tune that came from a place buried inside of him. He had the faintest memory of hearing it once, long ago, in his mother’s voice. Or maybe it wasn’t a real memory at all, maybe his mind had simply invented the comfort, out of longing and the few soft fragments he still carried from a childhood that had never been particularly gentle. He couldn’t tell which it was, whether the memory was true or manufactured no longer seemed to matter as much as the simple fact that he was here now, holding his daughter, offering her the same soft sound that may or may not have once been offered to him. 

Robby continued rubbing her back until her eyelids grew heavy. With her belly full, Noa drifted off quickly, her body going limp and trusting in his arms. Robby held her a little longer than necessary, just savoring the weight of her, the way her head was tucked perfectly under his chin. “I love you so much, Noa,” he whispered to her. “More than anything. You and mommy… you two are my whole world.”

Carefully, he lowered her into the crib, adjusting the swaddle and making sure she was comfortable. Robby lingered by the railing for a moment, watching her sleep, wrapped like a little burrito in her swaddle, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. “Sleep well, baby girl. Daddy will be home before you know it.”

He still couldn’t believe this little miracle that was now sleeping in the crib. He had spent decades walking into rooms where people were dying, or already gone, or fighting for their lives. He knew the weight of failure, he knew how easily everything could be taken. And yet here she was, warm, breathing, utterly unaware of the improbable path that had led to this exact moment. He couldn’t understand it, lucky felt too small a word, it felt almost insulting. What had happened to him was closer to theft, someone or something had stolen the version of his life that was supposed to stay solitary and quietly exhausted, and replaced it with this brighter, terrifyingly fragile thing. He kept waiting for the correction, for the universe to notice the error and take her back.

But she stayed. Night after night, she stayed. And every time he looked down at her like this, he felt the same stunned ache in his chest. Not the kind that used to mean another loss, instead he felt the one that meant something had finally, against every expectation he had ever allowed himself, gone right.

The two of you had been together for exactly one year when it happened. A beautiful year of falling deeper in love than either of you expected. The pregnancy was an accident, you'd been violently ill for a week with a stomach virus, endless vomiting, dehydration, barely keeping anything down. Your birth control pill had failed in the midst of it all. When the two pink lines appeared on the test, you'd sat together on the edge of his bed, stunned into silence. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready," he'd said quietly, covering your hand with his hand. But you shook your head. "I love you. And... I've always wanted to be a mom. If you're in this with me..." Robby had pulled you close. "I'm all in. I’m so in. I’d given up on being a dad a long time ago, but with you? This feels like a second chance."

From that day forward, Robby became your rock, devoted in ways that still made your heart ache with tenderness. As a doctor, he was meticulous, scheduling every appointment around his shifts, reviewing ultrasounds, ensuring you took your prenatal vitamins religiously. As your partner, he was everything you needed. He’d satisfied every craving without complaint, driving across town at odd hours for specific street tacos or fresh strawberries. He’d massaged your aching back and swollen feet, held you through hormonal waves of emotion, and spoke to your growing belly every night in that low voice you loved. "You're going to be such a great mom," he'd whisper, kissing your forehead. "The best. Our girl is going to know nothing but love."

He spared no expense for the baby. The nursery was a dream, with high-quality furniture, the most beautiful crib, expensive onesies and blankets he couldn't resist buying, a top-tier stroller, everything chosen with care. Having a baby with you felt like a dream come true for him, a beacon pulling him away from the darkness of the pitt. You gave him purpose, a reason to be better, to leave the hospital behind each shift and step into the light.

The first month after bringing her home had been a beautiful whirlwind. Robby was utterly ensorcelled by your baby girl. He lived for those moments maybe other men dreaded, changing diapers at 3 a.m. without a hint of complaint, feeding her while you rested, simply watching her sleep in his arms with a wondering expression you'd never seen on his face before. He'd trace her tiny features, hum songs under his breath, and whisper promises about the world he'd help her explore. 

With one last glance, he slipped out of the nursery, pulled the door mostly closed, and headed to work.

The pitt was already a chaos when Robby walked through the doors. The automatic doors hadn’t even finished sliding shut behind him before the noise hit, the beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and hum of conversations between staff welcomed him as he approached the nurse station. He was used to it, there was never a clean first hour, never a quiet stretch where a man could collect himself before the day started demanding pieces of him. The pitt didn’t offer that kind of courtesy, it only took from the moment you crossed the threshold and kept taking until the next set of doors opened and someone else walked in to take your place.

Jack was finishing up his night shift, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee.“Hey, daddy,” Jack called him out with a grin, using the nickname that’d become permanent since Noa’s arrival. “How’s my niece doing this morning?”

Robby chuckled, setting his bag down and clapping his friend on the shoulder. “She’s wrapped like a burrito and deep asleep,” he replied. “Five solid hours last night, she’s killing it.”

Jack laughed, shaking his head. “Living the good life. I wish I could swipe places with her. Burrito swaddle and zero responsibilities sounds better than this circus.” He took a sip of coffee, his eyes crinkling with genuine affection for his friend. “Seriously though, man. She’s got you wrapped around her tiny finger, and her godfather too.”

They moved into the handoff the way they always did. Robby stood with his arms crossed while Jack walked through the overnight cases one by one: the elderly woman with the troponin, the young guy with the syncope whose ct had finally cleared, the pending cultures that hadn’t resulted yet. He nodded and asked the questions that needed asking, keeping all the cases organized in his mind.

Once the essentials were covered and the board looked as controlled as it was going to get, Jack leaned in a little, dropping his just enough to make the shift from colleague to friend. “How are you both doing?” he asked. “You and your girl holding up okay with the new routine?”

Robby nodded, curving his lips into a wide smile, the same one that always appeared on instinct whenever he thought about you. “Surprisingly great. The nights are getting better. She’s a good sleeper, and we’re figuring it out together. It’s exhausting, but… it’s good. Really good.”

Jack landed his hand between his shoulder blades in a brief clap. “Glad to hear it. You deserve this, Robby. All of it.”

There was no teasing in it, just the certainty from a man who had watched him burn through too many years. Jack held his gaze a second longer, then turned and headed for the locker room and the much-needed rest waiting for him. Robby was left standing in the nurse station as the day crew filtered in.

Word had always traveled fast in the pitt. When you were pregnant, he’d kept it locked down tight. Not because the joy wasn’t there, God, it had been almost unbearable some days, the way it kept rising up in his chest at the most inconvenient moments, but because the idea of opening that part of his life to the entire department had felt like standing naked under the bright lights. His personal world was his, and yours, it wasn’t for public consumption.

Jack had been the first to know. It had happened one night over beers in the corner of a bar. Robby hadn’t planned on saying anything, but the words had simply slipped out somewhere between the second and third round. Jack had gone quiet, he sat there with the glass in his hand, and his eyes fixed on Robby’s face as they turned glassy. He shook his head as a disbelieving smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He was simply so glad that his friend had found this in life. After the years of watching Robby carry the weight of the department, Jack looked at him like he’d been waiting a long time to see something good finally stick.

Dana had been next. He’d told her he was taking the rest of the day off, muttering something about the twenty-week ultrasound appointment, and she’d looked at him for half a second before she started to silently cry. She’d pulled him into a fierce hug right there, saying, “About time, Robinavitch.” 

Still, somehow, the rest of the department found out weeks later. Someone caught a glimpse of his phone lock screen, the unmistakable curve of your belly under one of his old t-shirts. Someone else ran into the two of you outside the movie theater on a night off and saw the way your coat no longer closed properly over the growing evidence of what you carried. After that it was inevitable. Congratulatory claps on the back, knowing smiles, the occasional quiet “Sleep while you have the chance, dr. Robby.”

And now that everyone knew the baby had actually arrived, now that he had come back from leave, they asked every single day. Begged, really, to bring her in.

Donnie leaned against the counter, grinning like he’d been waiting all morning for the opening. “Hey Robby, you gotta bring Noa in one day, just for a little visit. We can arrange a playdate with my daughter.”

Princess didn’t even look up. “Yeah, call your girl and tell her to swing by with her. We promise we’ll be gentle. No crowd-surfing the newborn or anything.”

Dana, who’d been one of the view people who’d visited the three of you in your house, was passing when she caught the last of it. She slowed, a laugh escaping her as she turned toward them. “She is the sweetest baby. Those big brown eyes and those round cheeks? I’m telling you, she’s going to break hearts one day. You’ve got no idea what you’re missing.”

Robby felt the familiar heat climb the back of his neck. He laughed and rubbed at the spot with one hand, the other still holding a half-finished note. “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “Maybe on a slow day we can make it happen. But no promises on the timing, Noa’s still tiny, and we’re trying to keep things low-key for now.”

A collective groan rose from the group. Someone called him a party pooper, someone tossed a crumpled glove in his direction, but there was no real anger in any of it. On the inside they understood, there was no arguing with him. When it came to his daughter, Robby was as protective as they came.

Throughout the shift, the requests popped up again in quieter moments, Perlah and Princess cooed over the latest photo Robby reluctantly showed from his phone after begging him for hours, and García teased him about “the Robinavitch legacy” in the making.

Robby moved through the rest of his shift with a steadier mind than he had known in years. The old restlessness was still there sometimes, but it no longer felt like it owned him. Between patients, in the brief pockets of relative calm, his thoughts kept drifting home. He would picture you dozing somewhere, maybe with a book half-open on your chest, Noa nearby, either asleep in her bassinet or awake and occupied with the serious work of being two months old. 

He wanted to be there, twelve hours had never felt longer. He found himself calculating, almost without meaning to, how many more patients, how many more hours until he could walk through the door and find the two of you waiting on the other side of it.

Then, in one of those rare stretches when everything was temporarily under control, he stepped into the break room. He leaned against the counter, pulled his phone from the pocket of his cargo pants, and for the first time all day allowed himself the luxury of opening the message thread with you.

Robby: hey love, quick break here. how are my girls doing?

You were curled up on the couch with Noa nestled in your arms when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. It was Robby. The notification made you instantly smile, shifting Noa gently so you could snap a quick selfie. You were both looking soft and content, with your hair a little messy, and Noa’s big brown eyes half-open, fisting one tiny hand in your shirt. 

You: We’re good💕 Just taking it easy today

Sometimes when he saw you and Noa like that, a thought would come unbidden. What would it have been like, he wondered, to grow up with a mother who looked at him the way you looked at Noa? Not the keeping-alive kind of care he had known in fragments, but a mother who noticed when his voice went quiet, who sat on the edge of the bed instead of behind a closed door, who made the ordinary hours feel safe simply by being present in them. Someone who would have reached for him the way you reached for your daughter without thinking.

He tried to imagine it sometimes. A different house, a different childhood, where the question why wasn’t I enough? never had to form in the first place. He wondered whether he would have been softer, less braced for loss, whether the impulse that made him push people away before they could leave might have been sanded down by something as simple and profound as being wanted without condition. He would never know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that kind of mothering. But he knew, with an almost painful certainty, that his daughter never would have to wonder the same thing. And somehow, that had to be enough.

Robby’s response came back a few minutes later.

Robby: Are you two angels that fell from the sky? my beautiful girls.  god, I miss you both already, that smile of yours and noa’s cheeks i’m the luckiest man alive

You laughed softly, typing back while Noa made a small contented noise against you.

You: We just had lunch and now we’re relaxing. Our bellies are too full to move. Noa demolished her bottle and I ate way too much pasta. How’s your shift?

Robby: Managing, nothing too crazy yet, thinking about you two makes it easier save some of that pasta for me? love you.

The conversation tapered off the way when a multiple-car pileup sent six patients inbound, two critical, the rest still being sorted. Robby was already moving, pulling on gloves and scanning the board. And yet, even as the ED filled with the chaos of shouted vitals and the smell of blood, the picture of the two of you stayed with him. You on the couch, Noa’s body curled against your chest. For the next hour, through the first wave of stabilizations, that single image kept finding him. 

A couple of hours later, you had Noa on her play mat for tummy time, the little one determined and doing so well, pushing up on those still pudgy arms, lifting her chin clear of the mat with a concentration that made her round cheeks puff out like she was holding her breath for the effort. A soft grunt escaped her, you watched her for a second longer, then lifted your phone and caught the exact moment she managed another small raise of her head. 

You sent the photo to Robby without overthinking.

You: Look who’s being a tummy time champion today

His reply came almost the second the message left your phone.

Robby: look at her go!  she’s lifting her chin from her chest so well, she’s so strong already.  i’m melting over here Tell her daddy’s proud

By the end of his shift, Jack clapped Robby on the back as they wrapped up handoff. “Go home to your girls, man. Don’t linger here, they need you more than we do tonight.”

Robby didn’t need telling twice, he pushed through the sliding glass doors, and the cool night air hit his face. His scrubs were rumpled and his hair looked disheveled from running his hands through it during the final hours of a brutal shift. A few years ago, he would’ve walked to his car with heavy steps, feeling the depression taking over his body, wondering what the point was, if there was any light left beyond the next shift, the next inevitable loss, the next person he couldn’t save. No one would be waiting for him at home, there was no reason to keep pushing forward.

But tonight, a smile curved his lips as he unlocked his car. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension easing from his shoulders. He was going home to you, and to her. The pitt still demanded much of him, but coming home to both of you recharged him in ways nothing else did. The memory of your face during labor, the first time he held his daughter, the way you looked now as a mother… it all fueled him. And suddenly the depression that once had haunted him post-shift felt like nothing but a distant shadow. For the first time in years, the future felt bright and full of possibility.

You heard the familiar sound of the front door clicking open and then shutting softly, followed by the thud of Robby’s shoes being kicked off in the entryway. 

Robby appeared in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted for a moment before he stepped inside. His eyes found you immediately

He still hadn’t found the right words for what happened to him the second he stepped through the door and saw it. You were there, settled into the middle of the bed in your oversized sleep y shirt, with Noa cradled against your chest like she had been born knowing exactly where she belonged. One of your hands supported the curve of her back while the other traced absent circles between her shoulder blades. Her little face was turned into the hollow of your throat, her eyes half-lidded and her mouth working sleepily against your skin. 

The tired but genuine smile you loved so much spread across his face. He moved quietly, shedding his jacket and setting his bag down without a sound, then he approached the bed. “Hey,” he whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to startle Noa. “How are my girls doing?”

His breath brushed your cheek as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then another, a softer one to your lips. He placed one of his big hands on your shoulder, resting it there, while he hovered the other tenderly over Noa’s back. Robby stroked the soft fabric of her onesie with the pad of his thumb, careful enough not to wake her. Noa made a small sigh in her sleep but didn’t stir. 

Something moved through him then, it started in his chest and spread outward until his throat tightened and his hands felt useless at his sides. He could have stood there forever just watching the two of you. The woman he loved more than he had ever allowed himself to love anyone, and the tiny person the two of you had made together. It was so quietly sweet it undid him.

You were effortless with her, so natural that it made him a little stunned still. The way you shifted her weight without thinking, the soft sounds you made under your breath, the absolute certainty in the way you held her. Noa trusted you with her whole body. Even at this age she seemed to know, the way animals sometimes knew, that you were her safe space, that you would never let anything touch her, that you loved her fiercely.

Part of him still flinched from it, the old voice that whispered he didn’t deserve this picture, that something this good couldn’t possibly be meant for a man like him. But he had learned not to feed it. Every time it rose, he heard your voice instead, you told him he deserved this, that he made you the happiest woman alive, that Noa was lucky, so lucky, to have a father who already loved her the way he did. And somehow, when it was your voice saying it, he could believe it.

He kicked off the rest of his clothes down to his boxers and slipped into bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Robby slid one arm around your shoulders, pulling you and Noa carefully against his chest as best he could without disturbing the baby. 

“How was your day?” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your temple, gently playing with the ends of your hair with his free hand. “Tell me everything, I want to hear it all.”

You shifted slightly, keeping Noa secure on your chest, and started recounting the day in a quiet voice. The morning walk around the block in the stroller when the sun was still gentle, the way Noa had stared wide-eyed at the leaves moving in the breeze. The feeding session that lasted nearly an hour around lunchtime, followed by a messy but successful attempt at tummy time where she’d managed to lift her head for a few seconds. Robby listened intently, asking gentle questions in between.

“She’s getting so good at tummy time, how long this time?” His thumb continued its soothing path along Noa’s back. “Did she fuss much when you tried the new bottle we got? Any spit-up today?”

You answered each one, smiling at his genuine interest. He wants the details, the small victories, the tiny struggles. After a while, he glanced down at Noa, then back at you. “Want me to put her in her crib so you can stretch out a little? You look like you could use the space.”

“Yes, please,” you whispered, and Robby nodded, carefully maneuvering himself into a sitting position. With infinitely gentle hands, he slid his arms under Noa and lifted her from your chest. 

She fussed for half a second at the transfer but settled quickly against his broad chest, instinctively turning her face into the crook of his neck. He stood there for a long moment, just holding her, rocking side to side with a natural rhythm.

You watched as he carried her to her nursery. From the monitor on your nightstand, you could hear everything. “Hey, my sweet girl,” he whispered to her. “Daddy’s home. I missed you so much today. You know that? I think about you and mommy every single second I’m away.” He cuddled her closer, pressing feather light kisses to the top of her head. “You are so beautiful. Look at you… those perfect little cheeks, that tiny nose. I still can’t believe we made you. Me and your mom… we created something this perfect. You’re half her and half me, and somehow you’re better than both of us combined.”

He took his time admiring her in the glow of the nursery lamp, tracing a finger along her eyebrows, marveling at the delicate curve of her ears, the way her fists stayed curled even in sleep. “My perfect Noa. I love you more than I ever thought possible. You and mommy… you saved me, baby. Gave me a reason to go on every single day.”

Eventually, he lowered her into the crib, carefully adjusting her clothes and swaddling her snugly in a fresh blanket, just the way she liked it, with her arms tucked in, secure and warm. He double-checked the swaddle, made sure the monitor camera was angled perfectly so you could check on her from your bedroom, and finally dimmed the light before whispering one last “Sweet dreams, baby girl. Your daddy loves you.”

A minute later he was back in your bedroom, closing the door behind him and climbing  into bed. Robby wrapped one arm around you immediately, pulling your body flush against his. As he tangled a leg with yours, he buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply.

“God, I hate being away from you two all day,” he murmured against your skin, his voice coming out muffled. “Coming home this late… it kills me. I miss so much.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him. “It’s okay, Michael. Noa and I keep each other company. We’re all right.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. “I don’t like leaving you alone with everything. I wish I could be more present. Help you more with the chores, the nights, all of it. You’re doing so much.”

You cupped his cheek. “You have your job. Taking care of Noa is mine right now, and we’re managing, I promise.”

Robby sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “You should reconsider hiring someone. Just for a few hours a day at first. We could find someone certified, with lots of experience and references. She could handle the chores, watch Noa so you can rest, shower, whatever you need. I want you to have some… room to breathe.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him softly, smiling. “I promise I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much. But today we actually had a full one-hour nap, straight through, no crying, no fussing.”

Robby’s face lit up, and he let out a quiet laugh that vibrated through his chest and into yours. “Oh wow, a full hour? No interruptions? You lucky girls.” He grinned, pulling you even closer, sliding his hand down to rest it on your hip. “I’m proud of you both, seriously. You’re incredible.”

You turned in his embrace, capturing his mouth in a kiss. What started gentle quickly deepened as Robby groaned quietly against your lips. He was roaming his hands all over your body, keeping his touch gentle but undeniably hungry, sliding them down your sides, over your hips, and up your back, as if he was relearning every curve. He pulled you closer, kissing you harder, his tongue meeting yours in a familiar dance.

He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your mouth. “We can stop whenever you want, baby. I’m just kissing you… we don’t have to go any further if you’re not ready yet.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered, threatening your fingers through his hair. “I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

That seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. Robby shifted, settling his body on top of yours between your legs, careful not to put too much weight on you. The familiar press of him felt comforting and new all at once. His hands moved under your shirt, lifting it slowly.

Robby’s gaze darkened with desire as he looked at you, skimming his palms reverently over your breasts. He’d always loved them, loved sucking on your nipples until you squirmed, massaging the soft flesh, teasing until you were breathless. But he knew how sensitive they still were from breastfeeding, so his touch stayed feather-light tonight, brushing his thumbs softly over your nipples without pinching or pulling.

You froze for a moment as the insecurity took over. It came quietly at first, then all at once. The hunger that had been building under your skin suddenly was overtaken by the doubts creeping in.

You couldn’t help but notice the little changes, the faint lines that marked where your body had stretched to make room for Noa, the way your breasts felt different, no longer quite the same shape he had first mapped with his mouth months before she arrived. Nothing had fully returned to what it had been, and some part of you suspected it never would. This was not the same body Robby had first fallen in love with. This was not the same woman who had turned him on that first night, confident and untouched by the irreversible work of growing and delivering a child.

What if he didn’t find it appealing anymore? What if, when he finally touched you, it would feel obligatory, something he did because he loved you, not because he still wanted you with the same desire? You lay there with the questions pressing against your ribs.

Robby pulled back immediately, a look of concern replaced the previous heat in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, cupping your cheek with one hand. “You want to stop?”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you looked away for a second. “I just… I feel weird about my body right now,” you admitted quietly, a little ashamed of expressing these feelings of insufficiency to him. Robby would want a confident woman, not someone afraid of taking her shirt off. “I’m… insecure, I guess. It’s changed so much, I keep thinking maybe you don’t like it anymore. That I look different… gross even. You know, with the stretch marks, and the softness, and everything. I don’t want you to think I’m gross now.”

Robby’s expression softened completely. He shifted his weight to lie beside you, pulling you close so you were facing him. He couldn’t believe you were saying something like this. You, the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, were lying here looking at him like you somehow believed the changes in your body could make him look at you with different eyes.

He’d watched you grow Noa, had seen your body shift and soften and stretch into something stronger and more miraculous than anything he had ever put his hands on. None of it had lessened what he felt, if anything, it had made him want you even more. The idea that he could ever look at you and feel anything less than that same helpless pull was so far from reality it almost hurt. 

“Hey… look at me. I have seen you, all of you. Every day through the pregnancy, through the birth, through the recovery. And I think you are so fucking beautiful, so sexy. You look incredible to me. Your body carried our daughter, and I love it. I love every inch of you, exactly as you are right now.”

He leaned in and kissed you again, slowly, as if to drive the words home. When he pulled back, his hand continued its gentle exploration, over your stomach, your hips, your thighs. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this, never. I want you just as much as I did before, maybe more. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. The way you look, the way you feel under my body… it drives me crazy in the best way. Nothing about you is gross. You’re perfect to me. My beautiful woman, my partner, the mother of my child.”

His words wrapped around you like a blanket, easing the anxious knot of insecurity. He kept kissing you, your lips, your jaw, your neck, while his hands caressed your body with admiration. “This body,” he murmured against your skin, squeezing your hip gently, “It's so soft… I love it. I love touching you, feeling you. You’re so damn sexy it’s hard to keep my hands off you.”

You relaxed into his touch, the earlier heat returning slowly but surely. Robby stayed patient, never pushing, just showering you with affection and reassurance until the doubts faded into the background of your mind. 

Robby helped you peel his shirt off when you reached for the hem of it, tugging it upwards. He glanced down at himself with a self-deprecating chuckle, patting the gentle curve. “Look at this,” he said with humor. “I look about three months pregnant myself, and you still love me anyway.”

You laughed, the sound coming out genuine instead of forced, and pulled him closer until there was no space left between you. Your hands moved freely over him, with greed, tracing the lines of his back, the solid planes of his chest, then lower, mapping the soft give of the belly that had always made your mouth go dry. You squeezed the warm flesh of his sides, sinking your fingers in just enough to feel him.

“I love your body too. It makes me so wet,” you whispered. “Feeling you like this. Fuck, Robby…”

He groaned, the sound was pleased, vibrating against your lips. “Yeah? I know exactly how wet you get for me, baby. God, I love when you touch me like that. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t, you kept kissing him, kept your bodies pressed tight, and your palms sliding over his warm skin while his own hands began their slow descent. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and dragged them down in one motion, the fabric whispered along your thighs until it was gone. The cool air kissed your bare skin for only a second before the heat of his hand replaced it.

Robby parted your thighs with insistence and touched you, sliding his fingers through the slickness already gathered between your folds, spreading it, coating himself in how ready you were.

“So wet already,” he murmured to you. “This pretty pussy is so ready for me. Look at you… you’re dripping.”

His fingers found your clit with ease, rubbing slow circles that made your hips twitch helplessly against his hand. He worked your clit with that steady pressure that felt devastating, building the pleasure in rolling waves until soft moans spilled from your throat. Your nails scraped lightly down the length of his back, leaving faint red trails as sensation crashed through you, almost too much and nowhere near enough.

“Does it feel good?” he asked with his eyes locked on your face, drinking in every reaction he managed to pull out of you.

“It feels amazing,” you gasped, your own breath hitching under the assault of his fingers. “I missed this so much… missed your hands on me, missed feeling like this.”

Robby’s touch stayed steady, still circling your clit with the pad of his thumb in those perfect strokes that had you slick and open for him. Your body was responding eagerly, your wetness coating his fingers, your inner walls fluttering with every pass… until he let those same fingers drift lower. He toyed gently at your entrance, resting the blunt tips of two fingers right there, teasing you without quite pushing in yet, spreading the slickness he’d already drawn from you.

You grabbed his wrist instinctively. The motion was sharp, almost involuntary. Suddenly a million doubts flooded your mind at once. Robby’s fingers were long and thick, you knew the exact stretch of them, the way they filled you when he was patient and when he wasn’t. You knew he’d be careful the first time after birth, you trusted him completely. But fuck, after everything your body had been through, the thought of anything inside you still felt scary. 

“Stop.” The word came out quiet but clear, your fingers locked around his wrist, holding him still.

He pulled his hand away immediately, watching you with a concerned expression across his face. “What’s wrong, love?”

You took a shaky breath, the anxiety surfacing once again. “I’m scared it’s gonna hurt… after everything. The tear, the birth… I just—”

Robby shifted once again so he was looking directly at you, resting his hand soothingly on your thigh. “The tear is fully healed. Your uterus is back to its normal size and back in place. Medically, it shouldn’t hurt. But we can stop right now if you need to wait. It’s okay. I can just keep rubbing your clit if you want, whatever feels good for you.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I want you… but it’s scary to think about something inside me again.”

He kissed you reassuringly. “I understand. You’re really wet already, which is perfect, but we can use some lube too. It’ll help everything slide in easier, make it more comfortable. Sound good?”

“Yes,” you whispered with relief. You trusted him so fully, you knew you were in the safest hands you had ever known. Robby would never push, he would never take more than you were ready to give. Your pleasure and your comfort mattered more to him than his own.

He pressed one more lingering kiss to your lips, the kind that said I’ve got you without needing the words. Then he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Don’t move.”

As he rolled onto his side, the mattress shifted under his weight, he reached toward the nightstand, rummaging through the clutter until his fingers closed around the bottle of lube you kept there. He settled between your legs again, kneeling on the mattress as he warmed the lube between his fingers before applying it generously to your pussy. “Tell me if anything hurts or if you need to stop,” he said. “No matter what. This is all about you feeling good.”

You nodded, and once you did, he started rubbing the slick lube over your folds. His touch was gentle, coating everything thoroughly. He teased your entrance with just the tip of one finger, circling it and pressing it barely inside. The cool glide of the lube mixed with your own wetness, making everything feel smooth. He watched your face the entire time, gauging every reaction.

Little by little, he pushed his finger deeper. Robby moved with patience, the length of it easing forward only when your body gave the smallest acceptance. You felt the stretch immediately, familiar after all the times he had been inside you, yet still careful, almost tentative. It wasn’t painful, the sensation was simply full, a pressure that made your breath catch and your inner walls flutter around the intrusion. Slightly foreign at first, like your body was relearning the shape of him all over again.

He didn’t rush, every fraction of an inch was measured, his eyes remained on your face the entire time, watching for any flicker of discomfort. When at last his finger was seated all the way inside you, knuckle-deep, he paused completely. His thumb stayed gentle against your clit, offering the smallest pressure, but the rest of him went still.

The fullness settled, and so your body adjusted around him in involuntary pulses. “How does it feel?” he asked softly, brushing his thumb lightly over your clit to keep the pleasure flowing.

“Fine,” you breathed the word out. “It’s okay… good, actually.”

Robby smiled and began to move his finger slowly, sliding it in and out with careful and shallow thrusts. He crooked it gently, searching for that sensitive spot inside you. “Still good? Any pain?”

You shook your head and a soft moan escaped your lips as he found the right angle. “No pain… feels nice.”

He kept going, building a steady rhythm, fucking you with one thick finger while his thumb continued circling your clit. The combination sent waves of pleasure through your core. You started moving your hips, almost on their own, seeking more of the pressure on your clit and the deepness of his fingers inside you. Soon your breaths turned into moans and whimpers, his name fell from your lips in broken gasps. “Michael… oh god…”

After a few more minutes, finally Robby leaned down and added his mouth. The first stroke of his tongue over your clit was slow, tasting how wet you already were for him. Then the flicks came faster while he began to pump the single finger deeper, matching the rhythm of his tongue to the thrust of his hand. The dual sensation crashed through you in the best way, the thick stretch inside and the wet heat of his mouth working your clit until your thighs trembled on either side of his head.

You threaded your fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, the initial fear had burned away under the rising pleasure. “More,” you begged him. “Please—another finger…”

Robby groaned against your pussy, he answered without hesitation, carefully working a second finger in alongside the first. The stretch was deeper, but the lube and your own slickness made the slide smooth. He gave you only a moment to adjust before he began to fuck you properly with both fingers in strokes that grew harder. Robby was crooking the tips perfectly against that swollen spot inside you until sparks burst behind your eyes.

His tongue never stopped moving, he licked and sucked your clit with almost ruthless focus, occasionally glancing up just enough to watch your face as he drove you higher. You were moaning loudly now, the sounds echoing in the bedroom walls. “Don’t stop! Fuck, Michael, it feels amazing… so good, please don’t stop…”

Your thighs were trembling around his head, and you pulled his hair harder, grinding your hips against his face and hand as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly. Robby worked you relentlessly, thrusting his fingers deeper and faster, moving his tongue from side to side on your swollen clit.

The orgasm hit you hard, making your whole body seize on the bed, your back bowing as you came with a cry of his name. Your pussy squeezed his fingers rhythmically, pulsing with wave after wave of intense pleasure. Your own thighs squeezed his head and gripped his wrist, holding him exactly where you needed him as the climax ripped through you.

Robby kept going through it all, gentling his movements but not stopping until you started to come down, whimpering from how oversensitive you felt. Only then did he slowly withdraw his fingers and lift his head, looking at you with his lips shiny with your arousal befor kissing your thigh. “You did so good, baby. You look fucking beautiful when you cum for me.”

You just lay there panting, with your body limp, as Robby climbed up to hold you close, pressing tender kisses to your face and neck while you caught your breath. “I’d missed eating this pussy so much. Missed how sweet you are, how you soak my beard when you cum. Nothing in the world compares to that.”

Pressed against your body, you could feel how hard he still was, the thick length of him against your hip. When he spoke, his voice came out almost shy. “Could you… would you mind giving me some head for a bit?” He swallowed. “I’ve missed it so fucking much. Missed the way you look when you’re on your knees for me, how wet and hot it feels when you suck me. I keep thinking about it.”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Yes,” you breathed against his lips. “I want to taste you.”

He rolled onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows so he could watch, you sat up and moved between his legs, sliding your palms over the warm skin of his thighs. The front of his boxers was tented, with a dark spot already dampening the fabric where the head of his cock pressed against it. You hooked your fingers into the waistband and dragged them down slowly, letting the elastic catch for a second under the curve of him before you pulled them the rest of the way off and tossed them aside.

His cock sprang free, leaking a clear bead of precum that slid down the underside. You wrapped one hand around the base and just looked at him for a second, then leaned in. You started slow, with open-mouthed kisses against the tip, letting your lips drag over the fat head, tasting the salty bead that kept forming there before licking it away with the flat of your tongue. Then you did it again, slower, circling the ridge, teasing the slit until his hips twitched. Another kiss, wetter this time, then a long lick from the base all the way up the underside, pausing to suck gently on the head while your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Fuck… baby…” Robby dropped his head back with a broken sound. “That’s it… look at you. So pretty with my cock on your tongue.”

You kept teasing him, kissing, licking, sucking just the tip into your mouth for a few seconds before pulling off with a soft pop and doing it all over again. Your tongue painted slow stripes up and down his shaft, getting him all shiny and slick. When you nosed lower, you mouthed at his balls, sucking one carefully into your mouth, rolling it with your tongue while your hand stroked him tight. The other ball got the same treatment, and Robby’s thighs tensed hard on either side of your head before a high, almost helpless whimper slipped out of him.

Only then did you finally take him properly. You sank down, stretching your lips wide around the girth, taking him halfway in one smooth slide. You worked your tongue on the underside as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks until the lewd wet sounds filled the quiet room. You bobbed slowly at first, getting used to the weight of him on your tongue again, then started taking him deeper, getting saliva dripping down his shaft and over your fingers. 

Every time you pulled up, you twisted your wrist just the way he liked, then sank back down with a little moan of your own. Robby was already falling apart. “Oh my god! Yes, just like that. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Missed this so much, baby, missed how good you suck cock.”

You pushed yourself further, relaxing your throat and taking him deeper until your nose was pressed against the hair at the base and his balls rested against your chin. You held him there, letting your throat flutter around the head, then pulled back just enough to breathe before doing it again. Spit ran down your chin, but you didn’t care, you just sucked him like you were starving for it, with deep strokes that made wet shuck shuck suck noises every time you took him to the root.

Robby’s moans were turning into something closer to continuous broken sounds. He whimpered when you hollowed your cheeks especially hard. He gasped your name when you focused on the head and sucked like you were trying to pull the orgasm out of him. He tangled one of his hands in your hair while his hips kept making tiny thrusts, like he was fighting the urge to fuck your throat properly.

“Shit! Look at you. You’re taking me so deep… your throat feels incredible. Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep—”

You only sucked harder and messier, letting him hear every wet slide and every soft gag when you pushed past your comfort zone. Drool coated his cock and dripped onto his balls. You pulled off just long enough to lick him clean again, to spit on the head and smear it around with your tongue, then swallowed him back down to the base with a hungry sound.

Robby’s whole body went tight. “Stop… fuck, stop. I’m close… I’m so fucking close—” His voice cracked into another whimper. “Your mouth is too good, I can’t… I don’t want to finish yet—”

He pulled you off with a filthy sound, his cock was flushed almost purple and shiny with your spit, a string of saliva still connected your bottom lip to the tip. He was clearly right on the edge, breathing hard. Robby tugged you up into his arms instead of finishing, burying his face against your neck with a shaky laugh.

“Not yet,” he rasped. “Wanted your mouth so bad. But now I want to fuck you.”

Robby hauled you up by the waist and flipped you onto your back against the mattress, the movement was urgent, like he’d been holding himself back for too long and the last thread had finally snapped. His cock, still shiny with your spit, dragged across your thigh as he settled between your legs. He shoved your knees wide with his own, spreading you open, and looked down at the mess he’d already made of you, your clit swollen, your pussy flushed and dripping, the stretch of your entrance still slightly open from his fingers.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” hesaid. “All wet and ready for me after all that. You still want it, baby? Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, nodding desperately. “I want you inside me. I need it.”

Before getting inside you, he took his time .He gripped the base of his cock and dragged the head up and down the length of your pussy, spreading your folds open, smearing your wetness all over himself, then pushing up to rub circles over your swollen clit until it was shiny and throbbing. Every pass left another string of your slick connecting his cock to your cunt. He did it again and again, teasing the entrance without pushing in, watching the way your hole fluttered and tried to suck at him every time the head kissed it.

“Fuck, look at this messy little pussy,” he growled. “Already trying to pull me in. You’re so greedy.”

He finally lined up properly and pushed forward, just the broad tip forcing its way past your entrance. The stretch was intense, that first flare spreading you open after so long, but how soaked you were made it slide instead of burn. He stayed right there, only the head inside, and Robby started fucking you with it in short thrusts, popping just the tip in and out of you over and over, stretching your rim around the thickest part again and again while your juices coated him.

“How’s that feel?” he asked trying to hold himself back, locking his eyes on your face. “Any pain? Tell me.”

You moaned his name loud enough that it echoed off the walls, dropping your head back against the pillow. “Good! fuck, so good, Michael. Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”

He kept those shallow thrusts going, watching every twitch of your face, every time your pussy clenched and tried to drag more of him inside. Your moans got louder as you arched hard off the bed, chasing the head that kept rubbing perfectly over the sensitive ring of muscle.

Robby groaned through gritted teeth. Gradually, he started giving you more, with every slow thrust he sank a little deeper, another inch, then another, until your pussy was visibly swallowing him, the stretched rim clinging to his shaft as he fed it to you. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and dug your heels into the soft flesh of his ass, rolling your hips up hard. The movement forced the rest of him inside in one long slide. Robby bottomed out with a loud moan that cracked in the middle, pressing his balls flush against you, the entire thick length buried to the root.

“Fuck! Michael— fuck me,” you gasped.

He cursed loudly, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as his cock twitched deep inside you. “Jesus fucking… your pussy. You’re so goddamn perfect. It feels so tight, so hot. I missed this so much, baby. Missed being buried balls-deep in you.”

He stayed completely still for a long moment, letting you feel every pulse of him, every throb. “You feel incredible. This pussy was fucking made for my cock. So wet it’s dripping down my balls already. You’re fucking perfect, baby.”

Then you begged, your voice cracking with pure need. “Fuck me, Michael. Fuck me deep. Please… I need it.”

Robby pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in to the root in one strong stroke. He set a deep rhythm right away, snapping his hips forward hard enough that each time he bottomed out, his heavy balls smacked against you, and the head of his cock punched that spot inside until your vision went white at the edges.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, voice already wrecked. “Take every fucking inch”

You clung to him like you were drowning, carving red lines down his back with your nails, locking your legs tighter around his waist so he had no choice but to stay buried deep. He gripped the backs of your thighs and shoved them wider, pinning them open against his body so he could watch every inch disappear inside you. 

“Michael… oh god, Michael, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop—”

The sound of his cock plunging in and out of your soaked cunt filled the entire room. Robby leaned over you, his sweaty chest sliding against yours, and claimed your mouth in messy kisses between thrusts, fucking his tongue  past your lips the same way his cock was fucking your pussy.

“Fuck, baby,” he snarled against your mouth, sounding desperate. “I’m trying so hard not to cum yet but this pussy is squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

One hand stayed braced beside your head for leverage, while he shoved the other between your bodies without mercy. He found your throbbing clit and rubbed tight circles in perfect time with the snap of his hips. 

You were moaning his name like a prayer now, bucking your hips up to meet every brutal stroke. “Michael! Michael! yes! fuck! I’m gonna cum—” you gasped.

“That’s it. Cum for me,” he ordered. “Cum on my cock… let me feel this pussy milk me. Soak me. Do it.”

Your orgasm ripped through you like a wave, your cunt clamped down in pulses, squeezing and fluttering around every inch of him. Robby’s control shattered with a primal groan. “Fuck— I’m cumming. I’m cumming right now, baby—”

He slammed home as deep as he could go and stayed there, stuttering as he unloaded inside you. You felt every hot rope of cum flooding your cunt, painting your walls and overflowing around the tight seal of his cock. He kept thrusting through it, forcing more of his release deeper, groaning your name into the side of your neck like it was the only word he still knew.

For a long moment afterward, the only sounds were your heavy breathing and the faint hum of the baby monitor on the nighstand. Robby collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you, with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your damp skin. “You’re incredible. Thank you for trusting me with this… with you.”

“I love you too.” You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as your bodies stayed joined. The intimacy, the release, the love… it all settled warmly around you. Robby eventually pulled out gently, before pulling you into his arms. 

He held you tight, brushing a damp hair from your forehead with gentle fingers. “You good?” he asked softly. “Any discomfort? Did it hurt at all?”

You shook your head, a satisfied smile spread across your face. “God no. That was perfect. Even better than I remembered it. I feel… amazing.”

Robby’s face lit up with relief and pride. He leaned down to kiss you tenderly, lingering his lips there. “It was perfect,” he murmured against your lips. “You felt incredible. I missed being with you like this more than I can say.”

All of a sudden,  Noa’s cries start coming through the monitor, small at first, then building into a fussy wail. Robby stirred immediately, already moving to get up. “Stay here, baby. I’ll go.”

You sit up a little, shaking your head. “There’s no milk ready. I’ll go.”

He gently pushed you back down with a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get Noa and bring her here. You rest.”

Robby slipped out of bed, pulling on his boxers and a pair of pajama pants before padding quietly down the hall to the nursery. You heard his soothing voice through the monitor as he lifted her. “Hey, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you. What’s all this fuss about?”

He checked her diaper quickly on the changing table, it was clean and dry, then scooped her up against his bare chest, rocking her as he carried her back to your bedroom. Noa’s cries eased slightly at his familiar scent and voice, but she was still hungry and fussy. Robby climbed back into bed carefully.

“Here she is,” he said, helping position her so you could nurse. You lifted your shirt and guided her to your breast. She latched on eagerly, the suckling sound filling the room. Her little hand rested on your chest as she drank, her eyes blinking slowly.

Robby lay on his side facing both of you, with one arm wrapped around your waist, hugging you close while you fed your daughter. “I feel so lucky,” Robby whispered after a while as he watched you. “I never thought I’d get this. Making love to the woman I love… then watching her feed our baby. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world… you’re the most beautiful thing.”

You smiled softly, reaching over to touch his cheek. Robby stayed right there with his arm around you, occasionally leaning in to kiss your shoulder or Noa’s head. When Noa was done, with her belly full and feeling drowsy, Robby gently took her to burp her, patting her back until a good burp came. 

“Hey, you want me to set up the side-car crib? We can put Noa next to us and co-sleep tonight.”

You turned your head just enough to meet his eyes in the dim light. “Yes,” you whispered. “Please.”

He carefully transferred her into your arms while he stood. The side-car crib was already in the room, leaning against the wall where you’d both kept it for nights like this. He moved it, unfolding the frame, locking the rails and adjusting the height so the mattress sat flush with your bed. 

When it was ready he took Noa from you with infinite care, and lowered her onto the small mattress. He adjusted the light blanket over her, made sure her head was turned just so, then stood there for a second watching the rise and fall of her chest before he finally climbed back into bed behind you.

You shifted onto your side, facing the side of the crib so you could watch her. Robby moved in close behind you, pressing his chest fully against your back and sliding one arm under your neck, the other wrapping around your waist. He pulled you flush against him until there was no space left, his knees tucked behind yours, the curve of his belly warm against your lower back. “There we go,” he murmured. “All three of us.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, you simply existed in the closeness. Robby’s voice finally broke the silence, coming out vulnerable. “There’s something about seeing you with Noa,” he whispered. “Watching how good of a mom you are… how much love you pour into her every single day. It heals something in me, deep down. Something I didn’t even know it needed healing until I saw you with her.”

You felt the slight tremble in his voice and squeezed his hand over your waist, turning your head to look at him. His eyes were glistening. “Because I know that you’d never… that you’d never leave her like… like my mother did,” he continued, and the wau his voice cracked on the last words almost undid you.

You knew the story, he’d told you once, late at night in the early days. His father had died when he was still a baby, too young for memory, only the absence left behind. After that, his mother had tried, for eight years she had tried, in the only way she knew how, which turned out not to be enough. Those years were not happy ones, the clearest pictures he carried were of a closed bedroom door and the silence behind it. Her depression had been a living thing that filled the house, keeping her in bed for days at a time, the curtains drawn, the world reduced to the small square of mattress she rarely left. A little boy learning too early that the person who was supposed to be his safe place could not even get up to meet him. He remembered standing outside that door sometimes, listening for any sign of life, and the stubborn hope that today she might open it. She never did, not really.

The night he found her on the bathroom floor stayed with him in fragments, the cold tile, the way her body looked smaller than it should have, the childish terror that something irreversible had already happened. He was eight, old enough to understand that she was gone. Losing her carved a particular kind of scar, the kind that never fully closed. He never spoke of it, but it lived in him all the same.

He was older now, and he knew better than to hate her for being ill. He’d stood in that same dark place himself more than once, close enough to the edge of death to understand how a mind could decide the world was no longer bearable. He could list the clinical reasons, the weight of grief and untreated depression and the impossible task of raising a child alone while drowning. 

He could be fair, but fairness never quite reached the part of him that was still that eight-year-old boy. That part still carried the furious question: why wasn’t I enough? Why didn’t the thought of me keep her here? If the one person meant to love him without condition could choose to leave him, what proof was there that anyone else would stay? The fear had settled deep, becoming a kind of muscle memory.

“Michael… baby,” you whispered, your heart aching a little for him. You shifted across the bed, moving to lie on top of him fully. Your body covered his, legs straddling his hips as you rested your head on his chest. You started giving him the soft little neck kisses he loved so much, gentle presses of your lips against the warm skin just below his ear, then trailing slowly down to his collarbone. Slow, loving, reassuring kisses that you knew soothed him like nothing else.

The contrast was almost painful enough, his own mother had been a closed door and a drawn curtain and the silence of a child who learned too early that love could be present in theory and still entirely out of reach. He had spent years telling himself he had made peace with that absence, but watching you with your daughter did something the years of rationalization never managed. It reached the place that still hurt and, gently, without asking permission, began to ease it.

Not all at once or dramatically. The knowledge that this little girl would never stand outside a locked bedroom door waiting for a mother who could not come, that she would grow up knowing the sound of a voice that answered when she cried, the presence of hands that reached for her without hesitation. That the woman he had somehow, impossibly, found was the kind of mother he had only ever been able to invent in the vaguest, most private corners of his mind.

It healed him, Robby would feel the old ache loosen its grip just enough to let gratitude settle in its place. He felt that in giving Noa a mother like you, the universe had, in some unexpected way, begun to give him back pieces of what had been taken before he even understood the loss.

He let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around you tightly, one hand stroking up and down your back. “I think it hurts a little, deep inside, when I see you taking care of her,” he admitted quietly. “It makes me wish I’d had a mom like you. What life would’ve been like if I had had that kind of love from the start. The consistency, the patience, the way you look at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world… it’s everything I missed.”

You kept kissing his neck, resting your hand over his heart. “I know. But you have me now,” you whispered between kisses. “As your partner, I’ll always love you unconditionally. I’ll look after you too, just like I look after her. You’re not alone anymore, Michael. You never have to carry that by yourself again. I’m here… we’re here.”

Robby’s arms pulled you impossibly closer. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for being so amazing with Noa, for loving her the way you do, for being such a great mom. You have no idea what it means to me… to see her safe and happy and loved every day. You’ve given me a family I never thought I’d have. You’ve given me healing I didn’t even know I needed.”

You continued the gentle kisses, moving across his neck and shoulder, occasionally nuzzling against his skin just to feel him. His hand never stopped its soothing strokes on your back. Eventually, you both drifted into a light doze, still tangled together.

He fell asleep knowing that tomorrow would be another day, another chance to do this all over again, and he couldn’t wait for the brand new morning to arrive.

A/N: If there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I love imagining Robby as a father, especially as a girl dad. You’ll never catch me writing a fanfic where that man has a son.

I’ve always found it so interesting to think about how he’d experience parenthood given his difficult childhood, and how becoming a father might change the way he sees himself and the world around him. And now, knowing that canonically his mother took his own life, I think those feelings become even more complex. I’m also really interested in the idea of what it would be like for him to watch his partner be a mother to their child. To see someone love, protect, and nurture his daughter in a way that he never got to experience himself. I imagine that would bring up a lot of emotions for him, some painful, but also some incredibly healing.

That’s something I wanted to explore in this fic.I don’t know if I did it enough justice. I don’t think writing about emotions, or trying to be profound, is my strongest skill. I think there are plenty of writers who could tackle those themes much better than I can. But they were thoughts I’ve had for a long time, and they felt important enough that I wanted to try putting them into words anyway.

I hope you enjoyed it🩷 I’d love to know what you think, and as always, your comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

“okay.”

“the shoulder?”

“just bruised.”

“leon.”

“just bruised,” he repeats.

you move to the shoulder anyway, peeling back his jacket and the shirt beneath, and he lets you check it without complaint, which is how you know he’s exhausted. the man argues on principle when he’s got energy to spare. you clean it and tape what needs taping and try very hard not to notice the warmth of his skin under your hands or the way he’s been watching your face this entire time with an expression you can’t quite look at directly.

you’re reaching for the antiseptic when his hand closes around your wrist.

“leon—”

“i just need a minute,” he says quietly. he tugs, gently, and you let him pull you in, let him wrap both arms around you and press his face into your neck and breathe. you feel him exhale, long and slow, and something in him unknots by degrees.

you’d been so careful. so focused on not smothering him, not making it about you when he was the one who’d been gone for six days doing god knows what, and here he is holding on like you’re the thing he’s been waiting to get back to.

“i missed you,” he says into your neck. low and a little rough. “the whole time. just kept thinking about coming home.”

you pull back just enough to look at him and he looks back, tired and earnest and it makes your chest ache, and you kiss him soft and he makes a quiet sound and kisses you back deeper, hands sliding from your waist to your hips and pulling you closer, tongue pressing against yours.

“your ribs,” you say against his mouth.

“are fine.”

“leon—”

“are fine,” he says again, and stands, and you go with him.

he takes his time with you the way he always does after he’s been gone. hands relearning you like he’s been thinking about it the whole ride home.

he presses his mouth to your throat first, lips dragging slow, then your collarbone, then down your arm, the inside of your elbow, your wrist, back up to the soft skin of your inner arm and closer to your underarm and you feel heat rise to your face because it’s so intimate, so careful, like he’s paying attention to parts of you that nobody else thinks to.

he reaches behind you and unclips your bra and pulls it off and then presses his face between your breasts and hums, a satisfied sound, cheek against your skin. not rushing. you card your hands through his hair and feel the tight thing in your chest finally, finally come undone.

when he finally settles between your thighs and looks at you, blue eyes soft, you reach up and touch the bandage above his brow without thinking.

“hi,” you say softly.

“hi,” he says back.

he pushes into you slow and you feel every inch of him. the thick drag of his cock stretching you open, his heat filling you so completely your breath stutters and your walls flutter around him instinctively, pulling him deeper. he goes still for a moment, forehead dropping to yours, panting.

“god,” he exhales. sounding a little wrecked. “missed you so much. missed my girl.”

he starts to move and you feel everything. every slow thorough roll of his hips, the slick grip of your walls around his girth pulling tight each time he draws back, the warm wet heat building between you with every stroke until you’re arching up into him and gripping his shoulders. his forehead stays on yours, one hand laced through yours against the pillow, the other spread warm at your hip like an anchor.

“missed you,” he murmurs again, like he can’t stop saying it now that he’s started.

his mouth finds your neck and he’s kissing you, licking at your skin, so very desperate, like he’s been starved of you, which he has, dragging his lips up to your jaw and back down to your collarbone and back up again like he can’t decide where he needs to be, like everywhere isn’t enough. his hips keep their rhythm but his mouth is everywhere, tasting you, breathing you in, and you feel the low sound he makes vibrate against your throat.

“just need you,” he mumbles against your skin. “just my girl—ah—just need my girl.”

you don’t answer. you can’t. he feels too good, in too deep, filling you so completely that coherent thought is somewhere far away and you never want to come back from this, never want to move from this exact spot, his weight and his warmth and his mouth on your skin.

his hips stutter, pace faltering, and you feel him getting close, but his hand slides between you without hesitation, thumb finding your clit, pressing in slow circles like even now, even while edging closer to his own release, he’s not going to cum without you. you gasp and clench around him and he groans into your neck.

“cum,” he breathes. ragged. “with me. cum with me, baby.”

you do. your walls grip and flutter around him and he comes apart right after, shuddering, face pressed hard into your neck, your name leaving him in breathless moan.

he stays there after. his body heavy, face in your neck, very still. you don’t move either. you’re not sure either of you could.

a long quiet moment passes.

“…sorry,” he says eventually. muffled against your skin.

“for what.”

“came straight from a mission.” he murmurs. “didn’t even shower. just got you all—” he shifts slightly, almost self conscious about it, which is so endearing on him you could cry. “sorry.”

you laugh softly, hand moving through his greyish blonde hair. “leon. i genuinely do not care.”

“still.” he lifts his head and looks at you, a little sheepish. “shower with me.”

he peels himself off you with great effort and pulls you up with him and you both stand there for a second, equally wrecked, and he looks at you in the low light of the bedroom with something so soft in his face.

then he takes your hand and walks you to the bathroom.

You knew the story. You knew what woke in him to see you like that. The ghost of his mother taking her own life would haunt him for the rest of his life, and yours too. But he was supposed to be your rock. And instead all you got was quicksand.

The kids cried often, Mila more than Isaac. She’d snuggle you closer as you cried silent tears whenever the yelling woke her up. At 4 months she had already learned to stop crying whenever you picked her up with fresh tears of your own. Little bundle of empathy.

Isaac always tried to wait for daddy perched on the couch, cars or planes clutched in his fingers as he dozzed off and you'd have to carry him to bed. A two year old feeling tremendously heavy under the pain of post-partum.

That night he came home late, again. You knew Jack wasn’t working, you texted almost daily. Him checking up on you and the kids, knowing far too well his brother was not. You were already in bed when you heard the door and the rummaging in the kitchen.

You went downstairs barefoot, hoping he would accept to eat something. But instead, he was grunting at everything you said.

His plate was still warm when was yelling at you again. Saying he couldn't be home 24/7 to take care of you, that you were the one who wanted kids in the first place, that he didn't have time to be worrying about you while he was working. And then you whispered, foolishly, that he should see a therapist. 

Because you knew that anger wasn't really directed at you. You knew it belonged to your late mother in law. That woman you didn't know but still whispered prayers in her name every now and then. Still saw her in the songs Robby sang to the kids on bedtime. On the little understanding he had about motherhood.

Robby slammed a heavy hand against the counter, his fingers curling into a white-knuckled fist.

You could have sworn the entire house shook. Your heart certainly did, crumbling into dust, because you knew, with chilling clarity, that this was the end.

“Get out,” you ordered, your voice thick with tears.

He looked at you, his face twisted into a mask of cruel confusion. “What?”

“Get out of my children’s house.” Your voice splintered, but the command was absolute.

Robby scoffed, a dismissive, ugly sound. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“The fuck you won’t.” You sneered, the fire of self-preservation finally overriding the fear. “I should have stopped you sooner, but I’m stopping you now. You’re out of your fucking mind if you think this is acceptable.”

He scoffed again, a sound that made your stomach turn. “What are you on now?”

You rounded the counter and stood before him, daring him to see you. “Get out, or I’m calling Jack.”

“Jack? What’s he going to do? Mediate?” He mocked, head shaking in disbelief.

“Considering he’s the one who told me to stop trying to ‘fix’ this the moment your anger turned physical, I think he’s going to drag you out of here and kick your ass.” You pulled your phone from your pocket, your thumb hovering over the screen. “Your choice.”

“Give me that.” He lunged, trying to snatch the phone.

But you retreated instantly, releasing a frightened sigh and raising your arm to shield your face. An intuitive response that betrayed the truth and shot Robby dead right there: you had come to fear him. 

The movement stopped him.

When you finally dared to look at him, the cruelty had vanished, replaced by the raw reality. He took a step back, then another, until he reached for his backpack. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

He walked out the door.

You called Jack anyway. Let him know what had happened. Twenty minutes later, he texted you confirming that Robby was at his door.

That night, you knew the marriage was over.

You watch your reflection closely in the mirror as you apply one last coat of mascara.

Tonight there was a reunion event for Brendon’s graduating class from medical school. 

You had seen the invitation in the mail and insisted he go and see some familiar faces. And also throw around some bragging rights as the one of the east coast’s top orthopedic surgeons.

After some top tier convincing, he finally agreed but only if you went with him. Now it was you who had to be convinced.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 

"𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘰."

"𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘤'𝘮𝘰𝘯," 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 "𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘥𝘰."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 "𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯..."

"𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦?" 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺

"𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘗𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘴𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘩'𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘢'𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺."

𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴.

"𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦."

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯.

𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 "𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰."

𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

"𝘞𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘰" 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Brendon watches you get ready from the doorway of the bathroom. If he could stare at you all day long he would.

When he met you, you were the fresh faced nurse starting out in the pitt.

It only took him overhearing you talk about your interest in orthopedics once for him to fight day shift tooth and nail for you.

With a promise to Robby that he would watch out for you, you were moved to orthopedics.

You were brilliant and young, eight years younger than him and completely out of his league.

You still were out of his league now.

Yet as soon as he asked you out for the first time back then, you immediately said yes.

He often worried with the age gap people would have things to say. That those words would drive you to be with someone closer to your age.

Even though you always reassured him that would never be the case, you both agreed to keep things under wraps at work and discreetly out in public.

You never minded, only wanting to ease his mind. You’d do anything for him

Brendon was glad to have you on his arm tonight but he still worried just a tad that you’d catch the eye of someone who may try to steal you away.

—-

You and Brendon walk into the event room, your hand holding onto his bicep.

“Wow..” you say looking around at the beauty and decor of the room “it’s gorgeous in here.”

Brendon’s gaze lingers on you as you admire the space “Yeah, sure is.”

You turn your head and catch him staring, rolling your eyes with a smile.

He chuckles at your reaction as you both make your way to the bar.

“Hey! Look who it is! If it isn’t Park!”

The voice makes you both turn your heads.

To the right of the bar in a seating area towards the back are a few guys, all smiles as they wave in your direction.

Brendon waves back as he leans close to you.

“Some guys I studied and hung out with most of the time in med school.” he whispers

He gently leads you towards them.

A taller guy greets you guys first when you get closer.

“Well well well if it isn’t Pennsylvania’s most sought after ortho surgeon” he smiles and then his gaze turns to you.

“Well hello there, and you are?”

You smile politely and introduce yourself.

“You a doctor too, sweet stuff?” 

Brendon’s hackles go up at the flirtatious tone and pet name.

“No, I’m a nurse for orthopedics at ptmc with Brendon.” you share

The guy briefly glances at you and Brendon and notices your intertwined hands.

A giant smirk works its way on his face.

“Ohhh shit! Guys!” he grabs the attention of the other men sitting close “Our buddy here brought his O.R. nurse and girlfriend!”

Your face warms in slight embarrassment from the attention as all the men start whistling and yelling at the introduction.

Brendon’s hand moves from yours to your waist, pulling you close.

A waiter walks by and offers you both drinks.

Thank god.

You both needed one.

Brendon grabs a whiskey and you grab a wine glass.

The friend closest to you guys beckons you over to sit.

Casual conversation flows and Brendon adds in here and there, glad that the attention is off of you.

Or so he thought.

Brendon glances around the group subtly and notices a few of the guys eyeing you and looking you up and down, not so subtly.

His jaw clenches at how they unashamedly stare and gawk at you.

“Hey baby,” he whispers to you “could you grab me another drink? Maybe a snack we can split?”

You smile at him and kiss his cheek quickly.

“Yeah of course. Be right back, baby.”

He watches you as you walk off and turns back to the guys and sees they’re also watching you walk away.

“Yo Park, your girl is fine as fuck” one guy says with his eyes still on you in the distance.

Brendon’s composure is slowly crumbling.

“Yeah,” another guy chimes in “if I had her in my O.R.? Shit, not a damn thing would be getting done except for her.”

The man breaks into a fit of laughter as the other guys high five him and agree.

Brendon frowns at the jokes being made, gripping his thigh hard to keep from decking the men.

He doesn’t like the idea of anyone else having you. 

You're his.

—--

On the other side of the room you're grabbing new drinks.

It’s like you can feel his brooding attitude from across the room.

You turn to look for him and you see the irritation clear across his face as he swirls the whiskey around in his cup.

After the bartender hands you the drinks you make your way back to him.

His buddies quickly glance at you as you walk past, not being discreet enough with their comments about you.

“Fuck, the things I’d do if I had her.”

“She could have anyone and she chooses old man over here.”

“I bet he had to pay her to be here. No way she’s actually dating him.”

The smiling assholes aren’t subtle when they say it and it’s clear that Brendon hears it too when his frown gets even worse.

Luckily you can squash the talk and reassure Brendon all at once.

Brendon is sitting on a leather couch. So you place your left leg between his and then place your right knee on the cushion on the outside of his leg.

The placement has you practically straddling his thigh with your dress riding up dangerously high.

Brendon must notice because his hands grab your ass and hold you closer to him, shielding what’s only his to see.

“Hey baby” you greet him sweetly.

He gives you a “hey”, frown still in place.

You lean in closer so your mouth is right by his ear.

“I know what they’re saying, Bren. You also know that none of it is true. As far as I’m concerned,” you whisper “they’re not the ones who get me in their O.R. every day. You do.”

Your hand makes its way to the back of his head where you lightly scratch through his hair.

A weakness of his.

“They’re also not the ones who are gonna get to fuck me at the end of the night. You are. So, how about you turn that frown upside down and we go home to our own party?”

You hear his breath hitch at your words and a slight groan escapes him.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah let’s fucking do that” he grits out “But can we wait a few minutes?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the question.

“I mean yeah but wh-” 

Your words are cut off as he pulls you flush against him. 

More so against his hard cock.

“Aaah okay baby” you laugh a little.

“Thanks sweetheart.” he groans as he leans his head back against the couch.

—-

Unbeknownst to you both, your audience had watched the interaction with rapt attention.

Eventually they all had silently slipped away to collect themselves and let their jealousy spill over elsewhere.

You made it clear you were Brendon’s and they had finally gotten the message.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

he took what you gave and still demanded more. a groan escaped him, like it hurt him physically to pull away. but before you could even miss the warmth of his lips it was already back in full force against your neck, him leaving hot trails of kisses as he moved lower, sucking slightly on ridge of your collarbone, a breathy moan that left your mouth served as a fuel for leon as he brought his free hand to skillfully open the buttons of your silk pajamas, revealing your naked breasts in their glory. the man let out a sigh full of wonderment at your gorgeous body, worshipping every inch on your skin as though his kisses were the prayers.

”so beautiful. so perfect,” he mumbled, the timber of his voice sent shivers all the way down to the end of your spine. his wet mouth found your right nipple, sucking as his other hand twisted your left one in-between his fingers, the stimulation made your stomach jolt at the overwhelming sensation, abdomen unconsciously chasing the pleasure and meeting him halfway. leon’s heavy breath ghosted over your chest, turned on beyond belief, his eyes deep in a haze; lust glossing across his orbs.  

“l-leon,” your needy whine snapped him out of a trance, letting you go and he could say with confidence doing so was harder than him having to pull out a knife out of his arm that one time. he licked once more out of greed before planting soft kisses down to your stomach, his hand couldn’t quite get it off your tit just yet, his thumb brushed over your stiff as a rock nipple like an anchor, a reminder that you desired him just as much as he did you in that moment. 

he moved lower, lower, until his chin felt the fabric of your waistband, hooking a finger on it but he stopped himself, tilting his head as he faced you. “can i baby? ‘ve had a long day,” he asked gruffly, the gravel on his voice practically made your pussy tingled in excitement.  there was nothing explicit in his words yet your mind filled the blanks pretty fast, your brain answered first by nodding rapidly before your mouth could catch up. something in the way he pleaded had made you so eager for his touch, the man had just declared that pleasing you would help him relieve some stress, like you’re the one doing him a favor instead. what else were you supposed to say besides hell yes?

leon flashed you a smile that could make a grown man or woman weak on their knees before giving your lower stomach another kiss in gratitude; like someone who had been denied water in the middle of desert for a long time had finally found a lake to quench his thirst. a smirk that from your experience, was filled with a promise that had something to do with your ability to walk properly tomorrow.

he pulled down your shorts, you lifted your legs in response like it’s second nature, making it easier for him to take off your pants. he threw the fabric to the ground without care, his eyes loyal and unmoving like he’s stuck in a trance towards what the cloth was hiding this whole time. at his stare you attempted to close your legs but the grip of his hand on your inner thigh prevented you so, leon knelt in front of the bed as he put your legs on your shoulders, supporting your lower half; dangling if it weren’t for his sturdy body.  

there it was in its most beautiful state, your soaking cunt right in front of his face. leon used the back of his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, he could’ve sworn he thought he was drooling. “fuck. is this all for me?” he whispered, you could hear the proud smile in his question, knowing damn well what the answer was. you stared at the ceiling hoping it will help you to form some kind of a proper counter, yet you couldn’t find it in you to think of anything aside from this subliminal want for the male to do something.

you squealed at the touch of his rough hand brushing over your fold, the movement was slow, excruciatingly careful as he took his time like he’s admiring a piece of art. for a man who looked like he was ready to destroy any obstacle to get to this point, leon was unusually patient and looked very much in control. 

or so you thought, until both of his arms sneaked themselves around your thighs locking your legs in place and you knew right there and then. there will be nothing stopping him from enjoying the feast he’s about to devour. and he made sure of that. 

your body shook in anticipation as leon leaned in, running his tongue across your lips very slowly. each sweep getting deeper, sending mental notes to his senses so they would remember this taste forever. carving it thoroughly like a man who refused to take this moment for granted. your hips bucked at the sensation, chasing it in urgencyfor more, for it to be deeper.

”m-more please,” you pleaded, heaving. having no damn idea how you could be so out of breath even though leon was the only one doing all the moving, yet with every touch of his tongue, every tease, you found it hard to keep yourself in check. 

“patience baby, i’m going to take my time with you alright? waited all damn day for this,” he replied with ease, fooling no one when his boxer looked like it was about to burst by his bulging erection. yet he stayed true to his words, because above his own pleasure what got him off the most was seeing your face in bliss, expression changing in every careful touch he did; enjoying how sensitive you became under his hand. 

leon eyed your swollen clit that’s already begging to be licked, sucked, anything. and who was he to deny you that? his mouth then moved to the delicate spot, flicking it gently with his tongue as your body jerked like it’s burned alive, finally being granted the pleasure you’ve been waiting for. even when you flailed, leon easily sucked your bud with a scary accuration as he held your lower body steady; the sounds he made as his lips kept licking and swirling were like it came straight out of porn. 

you let out a shameless moan and leon thrived under it, basking under the sexy noise you made like he’s an athlete who trained his whole life for this. and he would, if given the chance. him and your pussy everyday? give him a gun if he’d ever deny that. but that’s a wishful thought, a fake—albeit enticing situation he’d found himself daydreaming about, unlike right now, where your very real sopping wet cunt was right in front of him, all for him to please. 

“you taste so fucking good.” leon hummed contently, his tongue encircling your clit like a madman who couldn’t get enough, feeling like he was about to cum in his pants every time he felt your center pulsate, twitching because he knew it did that only for him, by his touch only. you grinded your hips on his tongue, chasing for more friction. by then leon had started to lose himself, his control, like a man who was finally at the end of his wits, he began to eat you out genuinely.

his wild movement raw with lust, borderline unhinged as he leaned in deeper to caress and suck your slit like his life depended on it. you were sent into a state of frenzy at the ambush of his tongue, the grip on your thighs preventing you from pulling away as he worked on your already swelled clit, you felt your orgasm coming, stomach coiled. your hands that were grabbing the sheets were now on his dirty blonde hair, holding the soft strands tight like it’s your lifeline, the only thing keeping you still on ground. the tug on his hair as you led him deeper was what sent leon into overdrive, clinging to it like it’s an addiction as he got rougher.

“i-i’m cumming!” you screamed loudly, you were sure the neighbor could hear it so you knew for a fact that leon heard it as well yet his mouth stayed relentless. even as you writhed, overstimulated by the overwhelming waves of thrill he didn’t stop pleasuring you, even as you came undone his tongue was merciless, he was right there with you as you rode out your climax, never stopping even for a second. there were only flashes of light in the blackness as you eyes rolled, your spine tight with heat as you finished.

insatiable, that’s what he was. your hips stuttered, unfurling as he lapped up your release until the very last drop like it’s the best tasting meal he had all week. even with your cum smeared all around his lips, his skin glistening from the lights reflection the man still looked like he wanted more. 

and more he took.

”w-wait leon, ‘m too sensitive,” you whimpered, asking for mercy he wasn’t going to give, mercy you weren’t sure you were going to accept either. after all, leon knew more than anyone that you had just as much unsatiated appetite as he was when it comes to this. you panted, your hands were still on his hair, squeezing it to prevent him from starting again, neither pushing him away. 

“i know you have one more in there baby, do it for me?” he asked gently, though his gesture was anything but. mouth already on your quivering cunt and you let him, you always do. grinding his tongue against your swollen clitoris once more without giving you a break. you gasped, closing your legs out of reflex and without his hands holding your legs back anymore as they were on your knees, your thighs were practically smothering the man yet he didn’t seem to mind it even a bit. with him continuing to move without a care as he held your legs tighter around him, the man looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be. 

when the fresh wave of intense pleasure started to hit you once more, you began to moan louder. the increased sensitivity on your clit had pushed you into taking more than you could, eager in giving the man everything he needed, since he gave you the same. intangible string of pleads escaped your lips as leon pressed on, knowing exactly how much you loved it when your limit was being tested. and even with the repetitive motion you didn’t find the man’s movement any less rigorous than before, it was actually the opposite. the thought of bringing you into the edge for the second time in just a short span of period made leon an ambitious man. no, it made him a beast.

“i-i can’t. ‘m close,” your core clenched and unclenched its muscles at the marvel of the man’s lips. who seemed like it had memorized every curve, every spot that would drive you wild. and he had full intent in doing so as his touch rapidly becoming more staggering,  every flick pushing you under a rush that eventually became too much for you to hold. something that felt like a hot chain coiled itself within your stomach, tighter and tighter, begging for the sweet release of climax.

“come on my tongue, let me taste you again.” and like some kind of a mantra, you did just that, a yell of ecstasy cut through the room as your hips faltered erratically all under the soft of his touch, making sure you knew you were safe with him to feel it all, to let go. leon groaned like he ejaculated himself, the feeling of you coming undone was something he’ll never get used to, something that he wanted to all the time if he could. 

you panted like someone had personally taken the oxygen from the room, inhaling air like you lack the source. coming down from the high you had noticed once again leon had lapped you all clean sateless man than he is. and when he showed no sign of getting up and changing his position, you started to worry. 

“um, leon?” you called carefully.

“yeah?” he replied in ease, like a man without worry. 

“aren’t you done?” 

he gazed at you, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead which somehow added more to his sex appeal. he still had half of his face buried in your pussy, like someone really had to physically pull him back to get him away from it. 

“one more, please baby? i know you have it in you.”

“i-i don’t know if i can, leon,”

“you can. please sweetheart. for me?”

and you knew you could, especially if it’s with leon. so you nodded, having no idea what you just agreed to.

he made you cum twice more after that.

he took what you gave and still demanded more. a groan escaped him, like it hurt him physically to pull away. but before you could even miss the warmth of his lips it was already back in full force against your neck, him leaving hot trails of kisses as he moved lower, sucking slightly on ridge of your collarbone, a breathy moan that left your mouth served as a fuel for leon as he brought his free hand to skillfully open the buttons of your silk pajamas, revealing your naked breasts in their glory. the man let out a sigh full of wonderment at your gorgeous body, worshipping every inch on your skin as though his kisses were the prayers.

”so beautiful. so perfect,” he mumbled, the timber of his voice sent shivers all the way down to the end of your spine. his wet mouth found your right nipple, sucking as his other hand twisted your left one in-between his fingers, the stimulation made your stomach jolt at the overwhelming sensation, abdomen unconsciously chasing the pleasure and meeting him halfway. leon’s heavy breath ghosted over your chest, turned on beyond belief, his eyes deep in a haze; lust glossing across his orbs.  

“l-leon,” your needy whine snapped him out of a trance, letting you go and he could say with confidence doing so was harder than him having to pull out a knife out of his arm that one time. he licked once more out of greed before planting soft kisses down to your stomach, his hand couldn’t quite get it off your tit just yet, his thumb brushed over your stiff as a rock nipple like an anchor, a reminder that you desired him just as much as he did you in that moment. 

he moved lower, lower, until his chin felt the fabric of your waistband, hooking a finger on it but he stopped himself, tilting his head as he faced you. “can i baby? ‘ve had a long day,” he asked gruffly, the gravel on his voice practically made your pussy tingled in excitement.  there was nothing explicit in his words yet your mind filled the blanks pretty fast, your brain answered first by nodding rapidly before your mouth could catch up. something in the way he pleaded had made you so eager for his touch, the man had just declared that pleasing you would help him relieve some stress, like you’re the one doing him a favor instead. what else were you supposed to say besides hell yes?

leon flashed you a smile that could make a grown man or woman weak on their knees before giving your lower stomach another kiss in gratitude; like someone who had been denied water in the middle of desert for a long time had finally found a lake to quench his thirst. a smirk that from your experience, was filled with a promise that had something to do with your ability to walk properly tomorrow.

he pulled down your shorts, you lifted your legs in response like it’s second nature, making it easier for him to take off your pants. he threw the fabric to the ground without care, his eyes loyal and unmoving like he’s stuck in a trance towards what the cloth was hiding this whole time. at his stare you attempted to close your legs but the grip of his hand on your inner thigh prevented you so, leon knelt in front of the bed as he put your legs on your shoulders, supporting your lower half; dangling if it weren’t for his sturdy body.  

there it was in its most beautiful state, your soaking cunt right in front of his face. leon used the back of his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, he could’ve sworn he thought he was drooling. “fuck. is this all for me?” he whispered, you could hear the proud smile in his question, knowing damn well what the answer was. you stared at the ceiling hoping it will help you to form some kind of a proper counter, yet you couldn’t find it in you to think of anything aside from this subliminal want for the male to do something.

you squealed at the touch of his rough hand brushing over your fold, the movement was slow, excruciatingly careful as he took his time like he’s admiring a piece of art. for a man who looked like he was ready to destroy any obstacle to get to this point, leon was unusually patient and looked very much in control. 

or so you thought, until both of his arms sneaked themselves around your thighs locking your legs in place and you knew right there and then. there will be nothing stopping him from enjoying the feast he’s about to devour. and he made sure of that. 

your body shook in anticipation as leon leaned in, running his tongue across your lips very slowly. each sweep getting deeper, sending mental notes to his senses so they would remember this taste forever. carving it thoroughly like a man who refused to take this moment for granted. your hips bucked at the sensation, chasing it in urgencyfor more, for it to be deeper.

”m-more please,” you pleaded, heaving. having no damn idea how you could be so out of breath even though leon was the only one doing all the moving, yet with every touch of his tongue, every tease, you found it hard to keep yourself in check. 

“patience baby, i’m going to take my time with you alright? waited all damn day for this,” he replied with ease, fooling no one when his boxer looked like it was about to burst by his bulging erection. yet he stayed true to his words, because above his own pleasure what got him off the most was seeing your face in bliss, expression changing in every careful touch he did; enjoying how sensitive you became under his hand. 

leon eyed your swollen clit that’s already begging to be licked, sucked, anything. and who was he to deny you that? his mouth then moved to the delicate spot, flicking it gently with his tongue as your body jerked like it’s burned alive, finally being granted the pleasure you’ve been waiting for. even when you flailed, leon easily sucked your bud with a scary accuration as he held your lower body steady; the sounds he made as his lips kept licking and swirling were like it came straight out of porn. 

you let out a shameless moan and leon thrived under it, basking under the sexy noise you made like he’s an athlete who trained his whole life for this. and he would, if given the chance. him and your pussy everyday? give him a gun if he’d ever deny that. but that’s a wishful thought, a fake—albeit enticing situation he’d found himself daydreaming about, unlike right now, where your very real sopping wet cunt was right in front of him, all for him to please. 

“you taste so fucking good.” leon hummed contently, his tongue encircling your clit like a madman who couldn’t get enough, feeling like he was about to cum in his pants every time he felt your center pulsate, twitching because he knew it did that only for him, by his touch only. you grinded your hips on his tongue, chasing for more friction. by then leon had started to lose himself, his control, like a man who was finally at the end of his wits, he began to eat you out genuinely.

his wild movement raw with lust, borderline unhinged as he leaned in deeper to caress and suck your slit like his life depended on it. you were sent into a state of frenzy at the ambush of his tongue, the grip on your thighs preventing you from pulling away as he worked on your already swelled clit, you felt your orgasm coming, stomach coiled. your hands that were grabbing the sheets were now on his dirty blonde hair, holding the soft strands tight like it’s your lifeline, the only thing keeping you still on ground. the tug on his hair as you led him deeper was what sent leon into overdrive, clinging to it like it’s an addiction as he got rougher.

“i-i’m cumming!” you screamed loudly, you were sure the neighbor could hear it so you knew for a fact that leon heard it as well yet his mouth stayed relentless. even as you writhed, overstimulated by the overwhelming waves of thrill he didn’t stop pleasuring you, even as you came undone his tongue was merciless, he was right there with you as you rode out your climax, never stopping even for a second. there were only flashes of light in the blackness as you eyes rolled, your spine tight with heat as you finished.

insatiable, that’s what he was. your hips stuttered, unfurling as he lapped up your release until the very last drop like it’s the best tasting meal he had all week. even with your cum smeared all around his lips, his skin glistening from the lights reflection the man still looked like he wanted more. 

and more he took.

”w-wait leon, ‘m too sensitive,” you whimpered, asking for mercy he wasn’t going to give, mercy you weren’t sure you were going to accept either. after all, leon knew more than anyone that you had just as much unsatiated appetite as he was when it comes to this. you panted, your hands were still on his hair, squeezing it to prevent him from starting again, neither pushing him away. 

“i know you have one more in there baby, do it for me?” he asked gently, though his gesture was anything but. mouth already on your quivering cunt and you let him, you always do. grinding his tongue against your swollen clitoris once more without giving you a break. you gasped, closing your legs out of reflex and without his hands holding your legs back anymore as they were on your knees, your thighs were practically smothering the man yet he didn’t seem to mind it even a bit. with him continuing to move without a care as he held your legs tighter around him, the man looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be. 

when the fresh wave of intense pleasure started to hit you once more, you began to moan louder. the increased sensitivity on your clit had pushed you into taking more than you could, eager in giving the man everything he needed, since he gave you the same. intangible string of pleads escaped your lips as leon pressed on, knowing exactly how much you loved it when your limit was being tested. and even with the repetitive motion you didn’t find the man’s movement any less rigorous than before, it was actually the opposite. the thought of bringing you into the edge for the second time in just a short span of period made leon an ambitious man. no, it made him a beast.

“i-i can’t. ‘m close,” your core clenched and unclenched its muscles at the marvel of the man’s lips. who seemed like it had memorized every curve, every spot that would drive you wild. and he had full intent in doing so as his touch rapidly becoming more staggering,  every flick pushing you under a rush that eventually became too much for you to hold. something that felt like a hot chain coiled itself within your stomach, tighter and tighter, begging for the sweet release of climax.

“come on my tongue, let me taste you again.” and like some kind of a mantra, you did just that, a yell of ecstasy cut through the room as your hips faltered erratically all under the soft of his touch, making sure you knew you were safe with him to feel it all, to let go. leon groaned like he ejaculated himself, the feeling of you coming undone was something he’ll never get used to, something that he wanted to all the time if he could. 

you panted like someone had personally taken the oxygen from the room, inhaling air like you lack the source. coming down from the high you had noticed once again leon had lapped you all clean sateless man than he is. and when he showed no sign of getting up and changing his position, you started to worry. 

“um, leon?” you called carefully.

“yeah?” he replied in ease, like a man without worry. 

“aren’t you done?” 

he gazed at you, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead which somehow added more to his sex appeal. he still had half of his face buried in your pussy, like someone really had to physically pull him back to get him away from it. 

“one more, please baby? i know you have it in you.”

“i-i don’t know if i can, leon,”

“you can. please sweetheart. for me?”

and you knew you could, especially if it’s with leon. so you nodded, having no idea what you just agreed to.

he made you cum twice more after that.

The bedroom door creaked open. You looked up from your screen to see Lily. Her eyes were half closed and her hair was a wild nest. When she shuffled closer to your bed, you noticed her bottom lip trembling.

"Lily?" you murmured, setting the laptop aside. "What’s wrong, baby? You're supposed to be fast asleep."

Instead of climbing in for a cuddle, Lily buried her face into the side of your mattress, a muffled sob escaping her. "I- I fogot, Mama."

"Forgot what, princess?" You shifted, gently smoothing down her messy hair.

She lifted her tear streaked face, her big eyes wide with anxiety. "F-For 'morrow! Is Friday and my tun for snack day. My brain is loud cause I forgot tell you!"

The panic in her voice was heartbreaking. To your four year old baby, forgetting a classroom promise felt like the end of the world.

"Oh, come here," you said softly, scooping her up into your arms and pulling her onto the bed with you. She clung to your neck, her body shaking anxiously. "What did you want to bring?"

"Muffins!" Lily wailed into your shoulder. "But the stores are closed!"

"It’s okay, princess," you murmured, pulling back to wipe the tears from her cheek. "We can make them."

Lily blinked, hiccuping. "Now? But it’s sleep time."

"Yes but we have a kitchen and I think we have everything we need," you smiled at her. "We can work something out."

The anxiety on her face instantly melted.

She nodded rapidly. "With the sweet chips!"

A few minutes later, you were in the kitchen. Lily was perched on a barstool, her chin resting in her hands as she watched you rummage through the pantry.

You managed to find a bag of flour, sugar, vanilla extract, eggs, baking powder.

"Perfect," you said. "We’ve got muffins covered. We can start and you mix while I look for the chocolate chips."

Before you could pull out the mixing bowl, steps came from the entryway of the kitchen.

You turned to see Luca standing by the doorframe. He was wearing his matching star pajamas, dragging his stuffed animal, a plush dog, by one leg along the floor. His eyes were heavy with sleep.

"Hi, you," you said softly, walking over to kneel in front of him. "What’s wrong, bug? Why are you awake?"

He pulled his thumb out of his mouth and blinked up at you. "Can't sleep," he mumbled softly with sleep. He glanced over at Lily on the stool, then looked back at you. "Was alone."

Your heart completely melted.

Ever since they were babies, they had slept in the same room. The moment Lily’s side of the room went empty, Luca’s woke up because his other half was missing.

"Oh, buddy," you cooed, scooping him up into your arms. He immediately buried his face into your neck, his plush dog trapped between you.

"Let's make muffins, Lu!" Lily called out from her stool, her voice was... pretty loud and excited.

Luca tightened his grip on your shirt and gave a slow nod against your shoulder.

"Looks like the whole team is awake," you whispered, kissing his temple. "Let's make some muffins."

-

"Alright, my little bakers," you said, setting the large glass mixing bowl on the counter. "Luca, you’re in charge of the recipe card. Lily, you’re on pouring duty."

You pulled up a second stool so Luca could sit right next to his sister. He sat up straight, holding his stuffed dog under one arm while proping up the handwritten recipe card with his free hand.

He couldn't actually read words yet, but he knew numbers and forms perfectly, tracing the bold numbers with his index finger.

"Two cups of this," Luca read aloud, adopting a very professional voice that sounded exactly like Jack.

"Of flour" you said behind him, knowing the receipt perfectly.

Lily grabbed the plastic measuring cup, scooping it into the flour canister. "Two!" she echoed, dumping the powder into the bowl.

"Now the sugar," you indicated to them. "Then put the baking powder."

"One cup." Luca commanded.

While the twins were focused on their highly official assembly line, you turned around, hunting for the bag of chocolate chips. "Where did this man hide the sweet ones..." you muttered to yourself.

"Wait, it's-" Luca screamed then whispered "Uh-oh."

In parent language, uh-oh spoken in that specific tone was an universal code for: disaster.

You turned around. Lily was holding the baking powder container completely upside down over the bowl.

"She put all of it," Luca reported, his eyes wide as he looked from the bowl to you.

"I wanted make sure it was enough," Lily explained, her bottom lip poking out as she realized she might have made a mistake.

You stared at them and shook your head with a smile. If you baked it like this, the muffins would probably explode in the oven.

"It's okay, baby," you said, stepping back over and pulling the container from her small hands. "We just have to fix it now."

For the next twenty minutes, the baking session turned into a science experiment. To balance out the amount of baking powder, you had to double measures, crack more eggs, and pour more milk.

Luca went from reading the numbers to counting how many scoops you were adding to save the muffins. By the time the batter was finally balanced, you had enough batter to feed an army.

Later, the sweet aroma of vanilla filled the kitchen. The clock now read 11:50 PM.

Golden and chips muffins sat cooling across the counter. There were easily three dozen of them, far too many to bring to kindergarten.

Both toddlers were blinking slowly against the lights, looking exhausted.

"Look how many you two made." you said, wiping flour off Lily’s cheek.

"Lot of muffins!" Luca mumbled-screamed.

"We can't take all of them, you're only 15 on your class," you smiled, looking at the muffins. But then, an idea struck you. "Hey, what if we do something special tomorrow morning? We could take some these to daddy's work."

Lily’s eyes instantly brightened. "To Daddy’s work?"

"Exactly," you nodded. "I bet daddy and the nurses are going to be super hungry after their shift. We can drop off a big breakfast for them before we head to school."

"Muffins for Daddy!" Luca chimed, he liked the idea of taking care of his dad.

"Yeah! Muffins!" Lily cheered softly, clapping her hands.

"Alright," you wrapped your arms around both of them and kissing the tops of their heads. "But now both of you need to get back to bed and get some sleep. It's pretty late."

Luca grabbed Lily’s hand and they run back to their room, ready to dream about the surprise they had waiting for Jack.

When the alarm went off at 6:30 AM, it felt entirely too soon. By 7:15 AM, the three of you were walking through the doors of the ER.

The twins were a funny contrast of sleep and excitement.

Lily was fiercely clutching a bakery box, walking by your side. Luca, on the other hand, had completely lost the battle to his late bedtime. He was dead to the world, his arms wrapped around your neck as you carried him.

The ER was in that moment where the night shift was exhausted and the day shift was just starting to trickle in.

"Well, look who it is," a familiar voice called out.

Dana was by the central desk. Her eyes crinkled with a smile as she took in the sight of you carrying a sleepy Luca and an anxious Lily beside you.

"Don't tell me Dr. Abbot forgot his keys again," Dana teased quietly, walking to greet you.

"Luckily no," you laughed, shifting Luca’s weight on your hip. "We had a midnight baking emergency and thought we'd bring muffins to the staff."

"We made chips muffins!" Lily announced loudly as she held the box up like a trophy. "For Daddy and nurses!"

Dana’s jaw dropped as she peeked inside the box. "Oh, you are an absolute angel. You just saved the whole department."

"Daddy here?" Lily asked, looking around the room.

"He’s wrapping up in the breakroom," Dana whispered, winking at her. "Why don't you go surprise him? I'll take this box and make sure we don't eat them all before he gets one."

Lily proudly handed over the box to Dana, then reached up to tug on the hem of your shirt. "Luca, wake up, let's find daddy!"

"I think Luca is staying right here, sweetpea," you whispered, kissing the top of your son's head as he let out a tiny yawn against your neck. "Go ahead. Lead the way."

Lily didn’t need to be told twice. She took off and you followed her. She stopped outside the staff breakroom, pushing the door open with both hands.

Jack was sitting at the table, staring blankly at a half-empty cup of coffee. He had already changed his scrubs, so maybe he just needed something to drink before going home.

"Daddy!" Lily squeaked, ignoring all hospital volume rules.

Jack snapped his head up. "Princess?"

Lily sprinted across the room and threw herself against him. Jack chuckled, scooping her up into his lap and pulling her tight against his chest. "What are you doing here, mh? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for school?"

"We made muffins!" Lily beamed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Lot of them! For snack day!"

"Is that so?" Jack looked up, his eyes locking onto yours as you stepped in. Luca stirred against you and rubbed his eyes with the back of his fist before he blinked them open. He spotted his dad with sleepy smile.

"Hi, Dad," Luca mumbled and reached out one arm toward his father.

"Hey there, buddy," Jack murmured softly.

Holding Lily in his arm, Jack stood up and walked over to you. He pressed a kiss to Luca’s cheek, making the little boy giggle.

Then, Jack shifted his gaze to you.

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a slow peck, his free hand coming up to gently cup the back of your neck.

"You baked at midnight?" Jack whispered against your lips, his thumb tracing your jawline.

"This miss forgot to tell me it was her snack day turn," you said leaning into his touch. "And we had an uh-oh with the baking powder, so we bring some of them before dropping off."

"You have to eat one! Right now!" Lily interrupted, breaking the romantic bubble you and Jack had just settled into.

"Alright, alright. Let's go see if they left any for me." Jack said and the four of you walked back toward the central nurse's station.

The box of muffins was already open on the counter.

"Dana! Muffins!" Lily called out.

Dana looked up from the computer, a half eaten muffin in her hand. "Abbot, your daughter is an absolute culinary queen. These are better than the cafeteria's by a mile."

"Heard we have muffins this morning." Robby walked in to start his shift.

"Uncle Robby!" Lily squeaked. To the twins, Robby wasn't just one of Jack's colleagues; he was Uncle Robby.

"Well, good morning to my favourite princess," Robby grinned "What’s in the box?"

"Muffins!" Lily explained proudly, leaning out from Jack's grip so far that Jack had to tighten his hold on her overalls. "Made lot of them, snack day!"

"No way," Robby gasped. "Did you bake these all by yourself?"

"Mama and Luca helped," Lily conceded, nodding toward you.

"And she did a lot of pouring," Jack added dryly, catching your eye with a smirk as he reached into the box and pulled out a muffin.

He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully while his daughter watched him anxiously, waiting for the final verdict.

Jack’s eyes went wide. "Oh, wow, babygirl, this is the best muffin I have ever had in my entire life."

"Yeah! Muffins!" Lily clapped her hands in absolute delight.

Robby grabbed one for himself, taking a bite and humming in approval. "Mmm, absolutely elite. Hey," Robby shifted his attention, leaning over slightly to look at the quiet bundle in your arms. "Are you hiding from me, Lulu?"

Luca, who usually loved wrestling with Robby, was feeling shy. He peeked out with one eye, his cheek still pressed flat against your shoulder and tightened his little arms around your neck.

"He's a little tired today, Robby," you explained softly, shifting Luca's weight and rubbing his back. "He was the official recipe reader."

"Ah, the brains of the operation, I get it," Robby smiled gently, reaching out to give Luca's small foot a playful squeeze. "You did a good job, boy."

Jack took one last bite of his muffin and dusted the crumbs off his hands before turning to Dana. "I'm officially signing off. If anything catches fire in the next hours, call someone else."

"Go home, Abbot," Dana smiled, waving him off. "You've earned it."

-

After searching for his bag, Jack reached into his pockets, looking around the parking lot. "Where did you park your car?"

"Actually, I didn't drive. We took an Uber here."

Jack stopped in his tracks. "An Uber? Why?"

"Because I knew your shift was ending right about now," you explained softly. "And I wanted us to drop the toddlers off. Maybe you'd want to be there to see Lily hand over her muffins."

He looked at you, his heart visibly swelling. "You really are the love of my life, you know that?"

The drive to the kindergarten was calm. But the peace didn't last. The moment the car engine cut out in the school drop off line, the reality of the late night caught up.

The sight of the colorful playground completely revived Lily, who scrambled out of her seat, eager to show off her muffins. But for Luca, it was too much. As Jack unbuckled him and lifted him out of the car, Luca’s face crumpled.

The exhaustion hit him all at once.

"No," Luca whimpered, his voice instantly cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. "No school, Daddy. I want to sleep."

"Oh, buddy," Jack murmured, he picked him up, holding him tight against his chest as he walked toward the doors. "I know you're tired, Lu. But you're going to have so much fun with your friends today."

"No, my eyes hurt," Luca sobbed softly, tears soaking into the collar of Jack's shirt. He reached out blindly for you, his tiny hand trembling. "Mama... please."

You stepped in, your heart breaking as you took his hand. You pressed a warm kiss to his palm. "I know, my sweet boy. But Miss Honey is going to let you take a long nap at quiet time, okay? I promise."

Miss Honey walked towards you, her face softening with sympathy as she saw Luca's face, though she smiled brightly when Lily proudly held up the massive box. "Oh, Lily, these smell absolutely delicious!"

"We made them!" Lily said proudly.

"I see, sweety. Morning to you too Luca, are you tired? I have your soft pillow waiting just for you for nap time."

Luca let out a shuddering sniffle, unlocking his arms from Jack's neck.

"My blue one? With the stars?"

"Yes, that one."

Jack kissed his son on the forehead as he lowered him to the ground. "You hear her? Your favourite one. Be a big boy, alright? Daddy will be waiting right here to pick you up later."

Luca gave a nod, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt as he took Miss Honey's hand. Lily immediately grabbed his other hand, guiding him gently into the school.

You walked back to the car in silence, the echo of Luca's quiet cries still lingering in the air. You stared out the passenger window, watching the kindergarten entrance fade from view as Jack pulled out into the street. Your heart ached, the image of your little boy’s tear-streaked face replaying in a loop.

Jack caught the shift in your posture immediately. He kept one hand on the steering wheel, reaching with the other to take yours.

"Hey," he said softly. "Talk to me, beautiful. You’ve got that look on your face."

"I feel terrible," you admitted. "Leaving him like that when he was crying… it breaks my heart. He has such a hard time during the day when he doesn't get enough sleep."

Jack gave your hand a comforting squeeze. "Miss Honey is great with him. He’ll be asleep before nap time even starts. Why is he so tired? Did Lily wake him up for making the muffins?"

"No, she didn't. She was really quiet. He woke up completely on his own because he realized her bed was empty."

Jack glanced over at you curiously. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded, leaning your head back against the headrest. "He came looking so lost, and the first thing he said was, 'Was alone.' It’s that twin thing again. It’s like his internal radar alarms him the second she leaves the room. He just... he relies so much on his sister. I worry sometimes that he depends on her too much."

Jack listened quietly. He pulled the car up to a red light and turned his head to look at you fully.

"Sweetheart," Jack murmured. "They’ve been sharing a space since they were in the womb. It’s not a bad thing that he relies on her. Didn't you see them at the door? The second he nodded, Lily took his hand. He protects her and she grounds him. They look out for each other." He paused to smile at you. "He is always so aware of her. Think about it." Jack chuckled. "He’s basically our security guard for our troublemaker princess. We should be thanking him."

You laughed thinking of how Luca always take care of Lily when she is up to something. "A four-year-old security guard who works for muffins?"

"Exactly. The perfect one," Jack grinned.

The light turned green, and he rolled the car forward, keeping his grip on your hand firm.

"You did good, Mama," Jack whispered, lifting your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. "No more worrying. We have a date with our bed."

"Deal," you looked over at him as he steered the car toward your home. "You have such a happy face when it's my day off," you teased softly.

"Of course I do. It means I don't have to share you with anyone else for the next hours."

"Oh, is that it? You just want me all to yourself?"

"Absolutely," Jack murmured, he smoothly guided the car into your driveway and cut the engine, the sudden silence inside the vehicle making the space feel intimate.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned fully in his seat, leaning to trap you against your headrest. His eyes darkened as they traced your face, a deeply affectionate but thoroughly pervy grin spreading across his face.

"The kids are at kinder until four," he whispered, his hand cupping the back of your neck. "Which means no interruptions, no tiny feet running into the bedroom and no toddler emergencies. I have very specific unprofessional plans for how we're spending the first hours of our date, beautiful."

You let out a shy laugh as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his wild hair. "Dr. Abbot, are you taking advantage of your exhausted wife?"

"One hundred percent," he grinned, leaning down kiss you deeply. "Let's get inside before I decide the backseat is perfect enough." he whispered against your mouth.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

you set your brush down and rose from your seat, making your way behind him. you pressed yourself against his back and wrapped your arms around him, your hands barely meeting at his belly. then you rested your cheek against the beef of his arm. 

you looked at him seriously through the mirror. “jack–” you started before he interrupted you, “i’m not complaining, just noticing.” 

he continued, “it’s just. . .not exactly comfortable, especially when we move around a lot. we’re in the emergency department — it’s like a medical survival show.” 

you laughed softly, you agreed. you were ready to admonish him for talking down to himself, you were happy that was not the case. he would be always attractive and sexy in your eyes. 

his growing belly excited you so much you didn’t realise you’d started running your hands languidly up and down, kneading and squeezing the fat.

jack looked down to your hands, raising a curious eyebrow. he felt your chest release heavy breaths, he turned his attention back to the mirror. there was a distant look in your eyes, glazed over. your mouth slightly agape. huh. 

“uhh, hon? should we head out?”

you snapped out of it at the sound of his deep voice. when you came to, you saw him sporting a tiny smirk. you felt your face heat up with embarrassment. 

jack started to connect the dots throughout the night — the way you stared at his stomach when he clasps his hands behind his back during handovers, the gentle pats of praise for his good calls, and, again. . .the containers of food you brought that could be shared between three people, all somehow ending up all for him.

it never occurred to him until now, you’d completely conditioned him into eating more than he usually did. oh well, you wormed your way to his heart through his stomach.

as soon as you locked the door after you got home, jack pulled you into a tight embrace. he’d done it on purpose, holding you against him until you felt his soft belly getting squished between you. you tried really hard to stop the small whimper that escaped you, but he heard it. cat’s out of the bag now. 

“anything you wanna tell me, sweetheart?” 

“umm. . .” you could sense blood rush to your face with humiliation again. how could you possibly confess the dirty stuff you want to do to his belly? you stood there quiet and frozen in place. you wanted to separate yourself from his grasp, run to the bedroom you share with him, and lock yourself in. 

but jack had voiced it out for you. “i saw you eyeing my stomach.” he ran his palms slowly over the exposed skin of your arms, trying to soothe you. “it’s okay. you like it that much?”

“you like that it’s getting bigger? you like seeing the result of your care and how much you love me?” he continued talking, “fuck, baby. . . now that i’m thinking about it, the way you take care of me is making me sooo fucking hard.” 

you gasped at his crudity. he suddenly held one of your wrists and placed your hand on the top of the fat, then he led it downwards to his raging hard on. the sound of your whiny moan made his hips buck up. 

he rested his forehead against yours, you could feel his heavy pants fan on your lips. jesus, he’s really horny. 

“s-show me. fuck—” he didn’t stop thrusting into your hand, he just kept going. “please, baby. please— show me what you wanna do to me.” he sounded absolutely pathetic begging you, and you fucking love it. you could feel yourself soak through your underwear and pants. 

“use me.” 

you instantly dropped to your knees, you bunched his scrub top and undershirt up until his tummy was revealed to you. you peppered it with open-mouthed kisses, licked it, bit it, sucked a hickey on it — all the while keeping your eye on jack completely losing his mind. 

you were never good with talking dirty, instead you showed it through your actions.

you tugged his pants and boxers down, the heaviness of his cock slapping against the plush of his belly. it was, by far, the sexiest sight you’d ever seen. 

you gave him one last kiss on the side of his gut before you enveloped the tip of his cock with your mouth. there was no teasing or patience — you pushed yourself towards the base until you could feel your lips kissing his mound. 

jack never pressured you into taking all of him, he could cum just by licking on his tip alone. but you wanted to make him feel good and hear him praise you for being such a good girl.

most of all, you wanted to feel the fat of his stomach pressing against your forehead. you squeezed the flesh with your hands, so you could get closer to him as much as possible. if you could choose a way to go, this was it — death by suffocation due to his growing belly. maybe next time you could ask him to fuck your mouth like a fleshlight whilst you lie on the bed.

you pulled away before ramming his dick inside your mouth again a couple more times. your top had darkened because it was drenched with your spit. at some point, you involuntarily started to hump the air. you could reach your orgasm just by sucking him off. 

jack had to forcefully pull away, stumbling back, and would’ve fallen on his ass if you hadn’t help stabilise himself. he didn’t want to shoot his load yet, he badly wanted to see what else you’d do to him. 

you two had stripped down to nothing along the way. you were sitting on the meat of jack’s thighs and started bouncing on his cock. you placed your hands on his belly, in awe of the way the movement of your hips caused it to ripple. 

jack held on to your waist, watching you stare at his abdomen. something awakened inside of him, he adjusted the position of his lower limbs, bended his knees, and rested the soles of his feet on the mattress. he started to pound himself into you, meeting you halfway. the ripples turned into stronger waves, making you moan out loud and sinking your nails into the flesh. 

he brought one of his hands to his mouth — biting the back of it as he groaned at the combination of pleasure and pain. his voice was muffled when he grunted, “i’m cumming, baby. shit–! i’m– cumming!”

he was surprised when you pulled yourself out because he’d always cum inside of you. he didn’t have the opportunity to question you as he could not stop his release, making a mess all over his tummy. 

you were almost at your peak as well, you rolled your hips against his belly — your wetness mixed with jack’s seed were used as lubricant to easily rub your clit on him. 

“jesus fucking christ.” jack quietly muttered to himself, the scene was making his flaccid dick harden again. “yeah. . . make it messier, baby. make yourself cum on it.”

your body jolted, convulsing in shockwaves. jack could feel your hole clenching and more of your juices leaking out of you. the real thing was even better than you could ever imagine, you’d been humping your pillow wishing it was jack instead. 

you dismounted from jack’s body to position yourself at his side, you bent forward to start gently lapping on your mixed fluids saturating his skin. you took your time cleaning him up while he watched, adoring. today, you made him feel more loved and cherished. ♡