S

Dex lines up the scope, training it on the apartment building across the street. This window had a perfect viewpoint into where the copy cat was hiding. It also happened to be your bedroom window. He might have been a little reckless, staking out in his girlfriend's bedroom, but you were out of town for the weekend. He would have everything would be cleaned up by the time you got back. And besides, he really needed to eliminate this copy cat. He hums to himself as he adjusts the tripod of the sniper, but suddenly a prickle starts in the back of his neck. As soon as he registers that something wasn’t right, the bedroom light flicks on. This was not the plan. You weren't supposed to be back for another day, but here you stand stand in the doorway. Your face is momentarily frozen in time with a look of pure shock, with your finger still on the light switch. A strangled yelp escapes you as you drop your bag, and turn on your heel fleeing as quickly as you appeared. 

“Ah fuck” he mutters under his breath. He gives one last glance at the window, wistfully imagining driving a knife right through the copy cat’s eye, groaning as he stands up, and brushes off his suit. Your fingers fumble with the front door and chain lock, that you always locked when you entered your apartment, but now curse yourself for it. "There is a fucking intruder in my apartment this cannot be happening" loops in your head over and over.

Finally, your trembling hands open your front door, and you had only breached the front hallway when a hand is clamping down on your mouth. The intruder’s arm is reaching around your middle with such force that your feet comically fly out from under you. “Whoa, not so fast" soothing voice chides next to your face. The voice sounds like your boyfriend’s, but no, this is a psycho murderer assassin, with his tactical garb and sniper set up in your bedroom. With all of your might, you wriggle under his grasp, but he keeps talking, the voice becoming less foreign with each word. “Sweetheart, it’s just me. It’s Dex. You’re alright” He keeps repeating, muffled though the blue ski mask covering everything but his eyes.

He calmly steps backwards into the threshold of your apartment, kicking the door shut. Only then does he remove his hand from your mouth, and use it to pull off his mask. Sure enough, it’s your boyfriend Dex, not a strange man in your apartment. And he’s beaming down at you like this is the most normal thing in the world. His mouth tugs up in a lighthearted way that you had seen countless times before. Your heart tries to flip, the way it usually does, but now your heart feels like it’s in your throat. Your whole body trembles as you feel sheathed knives slung across his body digging into your back. 

“Can I let go of you now? Or are you gonna try to run again?” He asks.

You choke out fragments of words “I don’t-. Wha-?” Fear and confusion mix in your veins. Your mind feels detached from your mouth, so all the questions swirling around cannot be articulated out loud, even though you desperately want to scream them. 

He hushes you. “It’s alright, baby. Don’t be scared.” The iron grip around your middle tightens even more, as he peppers quick kisses down the side of your face. “See? It’s just me.” The familiar smell of your boyfriend has reached your nostrils, further confusing your brain. “You came back early to see me? You missed me, huh?” His words and affections are having the same effect as usual. Your racing heart still isn't calming - usually your boyfriend makes your heart race, but now it feels like it actually might beat out of your body. Your low belly ignites as he pulls your arse against his body, the protrusion of his cock digging into your backside. He nudges your head to the side, so he can access your mouth. “Gimme a kiss?” He asks close enough that his lips are already brushing yours, but he’s waiting on you to fully close the gap. 

“I don’t know..” you trail off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. You don’t know what’s going on, why he is dressed like an assassin, or why you’re so turned on. Your center feels like it's pulsing, aching and competing with your survival instincts to see which will dominate your thoughts.

His eyes bore into yours, crinkling at the edges “It’s still me. Still your Dexie” He uses the nickname that you use sometimes and he hates. “And I missed you too by the way. Feel how much I missed you?” Another grind into you, brings sensation of his hardening cock and a holstered weapon prodding you.

You raise up on your toes to meet your mouth against his, and he instantly melts. You feel his body weight slump with relief into your back. You open your lips so you can slot wet teeth and tongue - an action that feels familiar with your boyfriend even though the circumstances are anything but.

The clink of a belt unbuckling pulls you out of your thoughts. “Dex, what are you doing?” the words rush out of you, sounding nervous and eager in your own ears.

“Just reminding you.” He hastily hikes your dress up and pulls your arse up so he can wedge his heavy cock underneath you, dragging it across your entrance. "Reminding you that I'm not gonna hurt ya" With each brush across your wet folds, his words sound a little more slurred. “Sweetheart you’re soaked. Ya missed me so much, huh?” A finger hooks your panties, now thoroughly soaked in both of your arousal, off and onto the floor. He leans into you, bracketing your head with his arms on either side, and presses the tip of his cock inside you with a pained groan.

“Moremoremore" the plea flies out of your mouth automatically, embarrassingly fast. You bend to his mercy as he leans his body weight into yours. And he's so heavy that it's hard to keep standing, but feels overwhelming and invasive and perfect all at the same time. He presses his cock in, inch by inch, until finally there is none left to give. He's fully sheathed inside and the stretch is sending you clawing at your door. He wraps a protective arm around your middle again to hold you secure. He’s so big, holding you so tight, enveloping every one of your senses until all you feel is him. He finds a rhythm of gentle, easy thrusts, savoring every ridge of your wet, silken walls.

"I know, baby, I know" he mumbles into your face, and the scrape of stubble on your cheek pulls you back into your body. You hadn't realized you had been whimpering with each languid thrust. "You're so close" he soothes. A callused hand reaches under your dress to find your aching clit. His motions are picking up to become desperate snaps of his hips, plunging his cock at a new angle that makes you see stars. Energy shoots down to your feet standing on tiptoe as Dex circles your clit the final few times. Waves of orgasm rack your body, shuddering with pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his cock, your stomach muscles involuntarily clenching, and he chases his own orgasm with a final few thrusts. "Oh fuck sweetheart" he pleas, and soon after you feel spend filling you practically up into your stomach. He pants into your shoulder as his cock twitches and pulses inside of you - and now you're certain that you can barely hold against his body weight any longer. He senses your struggling underneath him, and pulls out of you with a hiss, standing you upright again and fixing your dress back over your arse.

"You do look really pretty. And I did miss you, really." He says. Then, groans as his knees pop when he picks up your panties off the floor and places them in your outstretched hand.

it's a sudden, sharp crack that echoes around the room like a gunshot. his head turns to the side and stays there, because you struck him hard enough for dex to freeze like that for a moment before he blinks once in surprise, tongue moving inside his mouth to poke the inside of his cheek.

you can see it in him, the change that happens when dex registers the sting and the heat that starts spreading across the side of his face, the shape of your fingertips painting his skin a crimson red. his mouth curls then, lips tugging into a smile as his eyes flutter closed to savor the impact.

you make a disgusted sound, and because you're still pissed, even more mad now than before you realized you can't even hurt him without his deranged brain turning it into this, you snarl: "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

dex only laughs in response, seemingly pulled out of his trance by the sound of your voice. it's the first time you've spoken to him in hours, and something inside him hums in satisfaction at finally earning back your attention, even if you're still scowling at him with an intensity that would make a lesser man feel the urge to bolt.

to dex, though, the only thing worth registering is that he has your eyes back on him once more, your touch back where it belongs—on his skin, burning across his cheek as physical proof.

he reaches out to grab your hand, fingers enclosing around your wrist and lifting your arm with enough gentleness to make you hesitate upon the thought of pulling it right back, then guides your palm to lay flat against the other side of his face.

The med student and two residents share subtle looks, watching the interaction. 

“Is my husband around?” You asked Dana, glancing around to see if he was nearby. It was never predictable where he might be. It’s not uncommon for him to not answer his phone when he works and you don’t blame him. It’s understandable. But it’s rare for you to show up at the department, that usually means it’s important.

The three watching noticed your eyes wandering, quickly busying themselves. Santos and Javadi looked at the same computer, as if they were reading results together. While Whitaker fumbled with the chart he’d picked up. The two women look at him in disbelief and annoyance. Smooth. 

“Trauma one. He’s in a mood.” Dana pre warned you, giving you a knowing look. You weren’t surprised by the fact, very aware how moody Robby can be when he’s stressed. 

“Not surprising.” You huffed out a dry laugh. “When isn’t he?”

“True that.” The charge nurse hiffs, knowing you'd understand more than anyone. But you’re able to diffuse him unlike anyone else. 

“Alright if I hang around?” You asked, knowing the answer but much preferring to be sure instead of assuming. 

“Of course.” Dana assured you, well aware you don’t like to presume but instead hear directly. Everyday is different in the ED. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just Levi.” You explained, not details but enough for her to understand that something had happened. Your son could get into his own mess these days, he’s 22 and at college, figuring out his life. Didn’t mean he didn’t avoid doing dumb shit. 

Before Dana could respond, her mouth hanging open before shutting as a painstakingly familiar voice rang out. 

“What’re you doing here?” You heard your husband’s gruff voice, head turning as he wandered up beside you. He pressed a kiss to your head before his eyes returned to your face. Concern was etched across his features, worried that something was wrong. You didn’t show up here without a reason. 

Javadi tried to not look invested but she was, Robby was married? Santos and Whitaker thinking the same thing. And this woman is his wife? No way. That can’t be right. 

“Your son decided that getting drunk and running around campus was a good idea.” You informed him dryly. This is the second time you've talked about this. Not that you were angry but more annoyed. You had to leave work, because Robby couldn’t, to go and get him from the police station by his campus. “Naked.”

“Why is he always my son when he does something stupid?” Robby inquired in disbelief before shaking his head immediately. It was too early for this, barely 8:30am.  “Actually, don’t answer that.”

He knew that if either of you had passed the doing something dumb gene, it was him. He had never done something quite like that but he was the more reckless between the two of you. He didn’t need to have his workplace hear about some of the dumb things he’s done in his 20s. 

Levi isn't a bad kid. Just tends to do dumb things.

Javadi, Whitaker and Santos all shared glances in utter shock. This man has a son? A kid? No way. They don't believe they’d heard this correctly. 

“Anyways. He’s alright. But he called Jack who called me.”

“Fuck.” Your husband signed, hanging his head low before looking back at you. “You going to get him?”

He gave you a look that said you gonna go or… not to rush you out but instead to figure out why you were hanging around with your shared son behind local station bars. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, pausing before you explained absentmindedly. “Letting him sweat a bit.”

“You’re evil.” He commented dryly. 

“It’s why you married me.” You grinned. 

He huffed a soft yet dry laugh. He won’t even deny it. Your nature was one of the many reasons he’d fallen inlove with you in the first place. He knows how incredible of a mother you are. He’s cherished raising children with you. He’d never seen you so soft and loving. He sometimes still found it hard to believe you had married and had kids with him. 

But he was aware that you weren’t going to let this stint slide. 

“That’s why you’re here?” He quizzed, almost a little amused, though pissed that his son had done something so stupid. This would be something you two would discuss with him later. 

“Partially. But thought I'd tell you before Jack blabs at shiftchange.” You answered, not going to have spoken to him later about this. It was too important. And you knew Jack would’ve let him know this evening. Better if it comes from you. 

Jack has been a staple in your kids' lives since he’d met Robby years ago. When Robby had started working at PTMC as an attending, you’d been pregnant with your second child. When Jack had joined a few years later, your kids were 8 and 6 at the time. He’d immediately grown attached, loving them like they were his own. They adored him, not having a day without him since (minus when he’d been in the army and deployed). 

As much as he loves them, he made it clear he wouldn’t keep things from you and Robby. Especially when it’s important. He loved them. But he loves you both too. All of you are like his family. He wasn’t going to lie. 

“Good thinking.” He nodded, appreciative you’d told him instead of letting him be blindsited later. 

“I’ll head out.” You said, wanting to get this whole thing sorted and just get back home. Not like you’d go back to the office. Thankfully your appointments were all via zoom today, it helped. “Hopefully won’t take too long but i’ll let you know.”

“Alright, thanks.” Robby replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It was something he always did when you’d separate for the day. “See you after work.”

“I love you.” You said softly, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you, honey.”

You waved goodbye to him and Dana, turning back around and heading back to your car. 

“You’re married?” Santos blurted in disbelief, unable to keep it in. Whitaker nudged her with his elbow in panic, she should not have said that. 

He looks over at her, pulling the chain out from under his undershirt. The chain dangled with a gold band hanging from it. His wedding ring. “26 years.” 

He doesn’t hide he’s married. He just doesn’t find himself needing to share that information unwarranted. He loves his wife and kids but he prefers to keep his family outside of the workplace. So if he’s not prompted, he doesn't talk about them. 

“How… when … what?” Santos stammered, in disbelief he’s been married. To you. For 26 years. 

“You didn’t know?” Langdon quizzed the three as he wandered to the desk, amused at their shocked expressions.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the same way when you found out.” Dana mused, shooting Langdon a knowing look. 

He can’t even deny it. When he discovered his attending’s long-lasting marriage, he was shocked. The man didn’t seem emotionally capable. But must've been wrong. He’s grown to know that over the last few years when he’d seen you two interact. 

Robby is a man inlove. 

“How’d you meet?” Javadi mustered up the courage to ask, curious to hear how you’d met. Especially since you’d been married for so long. 

Robby huffed a laugh at the memory, recalling the evening you’d met. It was forever seared into his memory.

1995.

Robby was out with a couple of his med school classmates for a rare night out between rotations. Being a MS3 was intense, going from classroom to real direct-contact work with patients. 

The four of them were mostly sharing how their recent rotation had been. They’d all been put into different specialties. Paediatrics, orthopaedics, cardiology and gastroenterology. 

He was mid laugh when his eyes glanced over the room, eyes locking on you. It felt like his breath had been pulled from his lungs. 

You were out with friends for a monthly catch up. Since you’d both graduated and begun your career’s, you rarely get to spend time together. The two of you made it a point to organise a once a month where you’re both free to catch up in person. Talking on the phone can only do so much for a friendship sometimes. 

The two of you were chatting, discussing recent events in your lives. She was halfway through telling you about an incident at her new job. 

“God, can you believe it?” She said in disbelieving scoff. “I mean, who in their right mind thinks that it’s okay to show up drunk and deny the whole thing, it's just dumb to try and gaslight your boss.”

“That’s so fucked. Please tell me he was fired. Or at least suspended.” You said in disgust, already hating whoever this guy was.

“I wish.” Your friend shook her head in annoyance. She went to take a sip of her drink, to realise it was empty. “But I will say that I need another drink.”

“I’ll get some.” You said as you stood up with a chuckle, grabbing your wallet. Though you gave her a playfully pointed look. “Don’t venture anywhere.”

“No promises.” she teased, though not really planning to go anywhere. She was the type to just wander away without prompt. But honestly, so are you. She’s just worse than you, especially when intoxicated. 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at the tease, but accepted it. It's normal for the two of you, the teasing. But you do hope she won’t venture far if she decides to. 

You made your way to the bar, sliding up between a tall man and a woman, there being a gap. They weren’t interacting so you took it as a safe spot to choose. It didn’t take long for the bartender to make it to you, barely 30 seconds.

“What can I get for ya?” He asked, leaning forward slightly to make sure he could hear you. It wasn’t too loud but to be safe. 

“Vodka lemonade and a vodka coke please.” You asked kindly, always making sure to be nice to staff. He nodded and got to making the drinks.

Robby glanced down at you when he heard the honeyed voice. Oh shit. It’s you. He made an effort not to stare at you from a distance when he’d noticed you earlier. He’s not shy but he respects you’d been with a friend and he’d been with his. He barely noticed the bartender he’s spoken to before, placing the beers he’d asked for in front of him. 

“Thanks.” He said to the guy but he made no effort to move. He glanced down at you again, at the same time your eyes had flickered up to him. You gave him a smile before looking back ahead of you, eyes seemingly glancing around behind the bar. 

Robby’s attention went back to the bartender as he dug out a few bills and handed them over. He gestured with his head towards you besides him. “Her’s too.”

The bartender nodded, not really having much of a thought as he put the money through, conversing with the other bartender for what you’d asked for to figure out the total cost. 

Your head had snapped up towards him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You’ve had guys offer to buy you drinks, your friend too. Though never had been quite as forward as this. 

“That’s awfully nice of you.” You commented dryly, looking up at him. You were a little suspicious. But you can't help but think of how gorgeous he is. It’s not actually fair. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He said honestly, offering you a grin that made your heart skip a beat. Fuck this guy. 

“But it got you talking to me.” He added a beat later, that breathtaking grin widening a smidge. 

“Ah, so that was your plan, huh?”

“No, kinda just happened in the moment.” He said with a shrug, grin not faltering. It wasn't a total lie. He had been thinking about ways he could start a conversation with you. He normally can do without ease. But you’d made him throw away the idea of using shitty pickup lines. 

“In the moment.” You chuckled, a grin of your own forming. Somehow you could tell it wasn’t a complete lie, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth. For not, you wouldn’t question it. As gorgeous as he is, you didn’t plan on hanging around long. You had your friend to get back to. 

“That hard to believe?” He teased, having noted you seemed to be somewhat amused. 

“Nope, but you can’t tell me you don’t already have a list of pick-up lines ready to go.” You joked, but half-meaning it. He was unfairly attractive and you’re sure he knew it. No doubt he could easily get a girl’s attention. 

The bartender placed your drinks in front of you. Thanking him, you turned back to the man you’d been interacting with. 

“You got me.” He chuckled, not going to deny it. “But they don’t seem like something you’d be interested in”

“Now that's a line.” You laughed, grin turning into a genuine smile. 

That smile? That nearly stopped his heart. 

“Maybe it is.” He said with a light laugh, not denying but not having intended on it being that way. But really, anything to make sure you kept smiling like that. He leant his head slightly forward towards you, speaking in a conspiratorial murmur. “Did it work?”

“I’m not at liberty to answer that.” You chuckled, unwilling to admit that maybe it was. It might just be his pretty face. But you weren’t immune. 

“Besides, I have my friend to get back to.” You added, gesturing over to your friend. When your eyes landed on her, she seemed to be occupied with a guy. The two close together as they seemed in deep conversation. Good for her.

“Ah, that's one of mine.” he chuckled, eyes having followed where you’d directed and seeing it was one of his friends with your friend. He hadn’t quite anticipated his friend chatting with yours. But it certainly seemed to work in his favour here so he won’t complain. 

“Yeah?” You quizzed but weren’t completely convinced he hadn’t coordinated that. 

“Not my doing. Promise." He chuckled, raising his hands in faux-defence, sensing you thought it may have been. He meant it, genuinely not having a single thing to do with the situation. But he thought of it as good luck. 

Your eyes drifted back to him, eyebrows raised. You looked at him for a few beats before grabbing your friend's drink and one of his beers. “Don’t move.”

He didn’t say anything as you left him, and your own drink. Not a smart move but it hadn’t even occurred to you in the moment. You made your way back to the table your friend was at, placing the drinks down in front of her and her guest. You subtly winked at her before you turned back and headed towards the drink and man you’d left.

As you slid back besides him, he felt elated. He hadn’t felt this excited to just talk to a woman in well … ever. 

“Gonna tell me your name or am i gonna have to guess?”

“Michael. But you can call me Robby.”

“I don’t see how that correlates.” You mused, raising an eyebrow at him. You don't exactly see how those names worked together. Robby? You think Robert. 

“Robinavitch.” he explained with a chuckle, eyes dazzling. 

“Ah, gotcha.” You nodded with another light chuckle. Last name. You told him your name in return. 

He repeated your name, letting it roll off of his tongue. He liked it. It was your name after all. 

The two of you converesed. You discussed your lives, work, study, friends, hobbies. You discovered he was a third year med student, just completing a rotation in cardiology. He mentioned he liked the idea of emergency, wanting to help people at the hardest point of their lives. You respected it, understood it even. You were hanging onto every word he spoke, enjoying the words rolling off his lips and interested in what he was saying. That hasn’t happened in a long time.

He discovered you had graduated with a bachelor of psychology last year, now practising as such as you worked on completing your masters of clinical psychology. You explained how you want to conduct cognitive clinical assessments for patients who think they might have ADHD, autism and anything else that might support patients understand what is going on inside their brains. You didn’t go into details but you had admitted you’d had your own struggles with mental health. That being a huge part of wanting to support others with theirs. You wanted to work in a few areas of psychology, he had gathered. 

You two spoke for hours. Literally hours. About everything and nothing at the same time. You joked, had serious topics at hand and discussed absolutely anything either of you could think of. 

You checked the time on the wall with a glance, realising it was nearing 12am. God, you’d been talking to him since about 9, knowing you’d been here since at least 8 when you and your friend had arrived. Neither of you even touched your drinks, both just sitting there useless. 

“Not to cut this short…” You said with a light huff as you got up from the seat you’d been on. Eventually the two of you had drifted to an empty table, finding it more comfortable to be seated as you chatted. But he would’ve happily stood there in discomfort if he got to hear your voice. Not that he’d admit that. “...but I should go, it's nearly 12.”

He looked at the clock as you spoke, eyes widening in surprise. It had been 3 hours? That’s how long he’d been talking to you. It felt like it had been 30 minutes. His eyes drifted back to you, not going to argue. He should probably find out if his friends are still here or not. You’d both noticed yours and his friend leaving earlier, so you didn’t need to worry about her being alone. 

“Yeah, it was great talking to you.” He said with a soft smile. He was disappointed you were leaving but he understood. And he wasn’t going to make assumptions. Not with you. Other women he may have made some sort of line, getting them to go home with him or vice versa to never see them again the next day. But he didn’t want to do that with you. 

“You too.” You replied with a smile of your own. “Bye, Michael.”

“Bye.” He smiled, his lips tugging wider at the use of his first name. Not his nickname. But his name. He watched as you waved and made your exit, eyes trailing you as you walking out the front door. He let out a small sigh, disappointed you were gone. He realised a moment later that he hadn’t even asked for your number. The thought slipped. Likely to avoid the anxiety. He;d never been anxious to ask a girl for her number before. 

Meanwhile, the cold air was a welcomed slap to the face from the heat of inside the bar. It was soothing. But you couldn’t help the disappointment you felt. You had really begun to like him. You’d spoken for hours. Not like you’d spilled your entire life story. But still, you thought something was there. Something you hadn’t felt before. Not with your exes. 

You became annoyed. Had he not felt that? Or did he? Either way, he didn’t ask for any form of contact details for you. 

With a huff, you turned back inside and marched towards him. 

Robby was shocked when he saw your figure storming towards him. He had just stood up to go in search for his friends. 

“Okay. We have something. There’s this … this… I don't know … spark. It's there.” You ranted, eyes wide as you looked up at him. You wished you could blame it on the alcohol because this was not something you did. But you couldn’t help but blurt this at him. You can be embarrassed later. “We’ve been talking for hours. Literal hours. And you don’t ask for my number? Seriously? What the fuck?!”

His eyes were wide in shock as you spoke before softening. He hadn't exactly anticipated you running back to tell him off. It was hot. A soft grin tugged at his lips at each word you said. 

“What?” You asked him in annoyance, arms now crossed over your chest. 

“Is it too late to ask for your number?” He questioned, a hint of tease mixed in the hope in his voice. He had wanted to ask but had been caught off guard by you leaving. He was nervous at the prospect. What if you’d said no? That’d have just about broken his heart. 

“You’re asking now?” You asked dryly. “Because I yelled at you?”

“First, you didn't yell. You firmly stated your annoyance.” He corrected genuinely but firmly  “second, i wanted to but i got nervous.”

“Nervous?” you quizzed, not quite believing that. He hadn’t been nervous the entire time you’d spoken to him. Not openly anyways. 

“Yeah. Nervous.” He admitted without shame. “Beautiful girl I've been talking to all night rejects me? That's nerve-wrecking.”

“Enough with the lines.” You responded dryly. He hadn’t really given you lines but that didn’t automatically exclude him from going to use them. 

“Not a line. I'm serious.” Robby said, sincerity seeping through his voice. His eyes didn’t leave yours. He wanted you to know he wasn’t trying to be smooth. Just honest. 

You stared at him for a few moments, debating if you could trust it. He sounded painfully sincere. You don’t think you can fake this kind of honestly. 

“Still want my number?”

Present. 

“I love her.” Javadi rushed out immediately, then flushing with embarrassment as she realised she said that outloud. Her hand covered her mouth in shock at her own words. 

Robby just chuckled, which surprised her and the two residents. 

“She’s incredible.” He commented fondly. His mind reeled with thoughts of you. Both from recent years and the early times of your relationship. 

“Careful, you’re sounding human.” Dana joked, though she had grown fond of the dynamic between you and the attending. He was practically a different person with you. Your kids too. 

“Don’t let my daughter hear that, she’ll use it against me.” He joked back, having broken out of his thoughts and preferring the humour based dynamic in the workplace. He didn’t need to be vulnerable here. Not about his family.

Before anyone could respond, he headed off. Intending to see a patient, check in to see how his residents are doing. But he’d instead slowed his moments and pulled out his phone, pulling up your text chain.  

Husband <3: if he claims he was dared, you’re going to let me eat you out Wife: if he says that he’s made a mistake and won’t do it again, you’ll eat me out Husband <3: deal

“I’m sorry … DAUGHTER?!” 

He heard the disbelief of his resident, ignoring the question and instead pocketing his phone continuing on his day. He’s the chief attending here. At home? He’s just a man who’s obsessed with his wife.

In Dex's eyes, the world was a violent and bloody chaos, a place that showed no mercy to people like him. But for you, it was a place where you could always be surprised, and generally in a good way.

You found beauty in everyday things. The gentle sun warming your feet through the window, the soft tinkling of a wind chime hanging from a house's ceiling, the murmur of water as it broke against the rocks. And Dex couldn't have been more perplexed.

It wasn't that it bothered him, it just confused him sometimes. He couldn't understand you, but he wanted to. And that's what frustrated him. At first, he had trouble getting used to these... quirks of yours. Every time you excitedly showed him something "pretty" in your opinion, he would just stare at where you were pointing with a serious face, frowning.

"Wow, the clouds are really beautiful today!"

"Oh, look how cute that little bird is! It's a lark! No, wait, it's a thrush!"

"Dex! Did you see how the leaves are falling?"

It was always the most mundane things that caught your attention, and you always had that childlike, excited smile on your face. Dex simply didn't understand; you were unbearably adorable. He would stay silently, nodding, and when you weren't looking, he would stare at you intently, as if he could read your thoughts and try to understand your mind. To him, they were just clouds, leaves, flowers. That was all. But to you, they were a testament to how beautiful and kind this world could be, at least for you.

But over time, Dex realized that perhaps he shouldn't try to understand you, but rather go with the flow, or better yet, enjoy those little moments with you. There was something so gentle about the way you marveled at things as if it were your first day on earth that he was almost envious. How it all came so easily to you, like second nature.

And he got used to it, because he realized that perhaps what he needed was someone to show him that not everything has to be hostile. And he had that with you. With you, the little moments and the days were warmer. Peaceful. Finally, he could feel that he didn't have to be on his guard, at least not always.

That day they were going to visit a museum at your insistence. And after exclaiming vehemently how wonderful the tops of the tallest and leafiest trees looked, or wrinkling your nose in a smile at the sight of a child running and playing with his mother, you both entered the building.

The museum was beautiful, even for Dex. It was adorned with various paintings, busts, and ancient statues. But what had caught your eye most was a slightly more secluded spot in the garden. You had seen an arcade with marble columns, its ceiling draped in vines. With a gasp, you ran towards it, your boyfriend following behind with a heavy gait like a guard dog.

You automatically walked across the small marble pergola with slow, deliberate steps, delicately running your hands along the columns as if entering a sacred place. Dex leaned against one of the columns, arms crossed, watching you with interest, patiently waiting for you to finish your "ritual." Suddenly, you stood in the center of the pergola and looked up. A gasp of astonishment escaped you. The ceiling was painted and decorated. Dex raised an eyebrow and looked up, following your gaze.

It was pretty, yes, but it didn't compare to the paintings inside the museum. This one was only decorated with drawings of flowers, vines, and the occasional small animal like a rabbit or a bird. Even so, he noticed how you clasped your hands to your chest as if you were praying. Your eyes shone with ecstasy as you concentrated on the smallest details. And your boyfriend didn't miss that. As he watched your face light up, a small, crooked smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.

He waited until you finished staring at that ceiling, standing there doing nothing with your head painfully thrown back, for what he considered a good 15 minutes.

"Okay, I think it's time to go." He said this as he moved towards you and gently encircled your bicep with his hand to begin pulling you.

But you frowned and looked at him like a child who had just been told there would be no more amusement park for the day.

"No, wait," you pleaded with a pout, "just a little longer, please." You had just discovered several flowers that were repeated in the painting and you wanted to count them.

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, but he was far from annoyed. In fact, a gentle, almost amused smile played across his lips. He just sighed and returned to his place by the column, waiting and still watching you. He'd never admit it, but he was enjoying this as much as you were.

“such a perfect mouthful for you— huh, honey?” he breathes out, still managing a tone that’s full of adoration and filthy affection. you’ve finally got your mouth wrapped around him, pretty and puffy lips stretched over his thickness as you drool and peer up at him through your lashes. the same way you looked at him when his cock was rubbing against your cheek before you went for it.

you only nod, which bobs your head and pushes him deeper until he hits the back of your throat and you gag despite how much you’ve been training yourself to take him. tears slip past your lashes, you sniffle as you breathe through your nose. you’re trying to not pull back, determined to hold yourself there. especially when jack groans so deep and throws his head against the couch cushions, he ruts his hips once and the movement makes you gag for a second time, just as your nose presses against his lower abdomen. then he comes back to his right mind and yanks you off of his cock with a firm hand.

strings of saliva fall from your lips as spit bubbles coat his length. the sight makes his cock twitch whilst it stands tall—

“slow the fuck down,” jack suddenly reprimands. his grip on your hair relents, but his other hand comes down to grab your face as your lips hover over his cock that’s slick with your mess, digging his digits into your plush cheeks and shaking your head with his hold on you as he speaks to you like you’re a bad pet, “you’re bein’ way too greedy. you know better, you know i don’t like rushing it.”

he hisses when your fingers wrap around him and replace your mouth, palm gliding against his shaft with ease. you’re unbelievable, he already knew that but it shocks him every time. his eyes focus in on the way your lips move as you speak and your now raspy voice meets his ears. all desperate to get your throat worked out, desperate to make him feel good after such a long day even if you have your own selfish and needy reasons, “‘m sorry, daddy!”

“i know you are, baby cakes— you just need t’be more patient… bet it’s hard when all you can think about is dick, huh?”