I'm your host, Heather. kinks are welcome here. DMs are open if you need an ear ❤️
My asks are open for discussions and fun things and questions….im no good at asks or requests, if im being honest…I have issues with follow through.
Everything below should be assumed 18+. Not everything is smut, head the warnings for each story. These are a mixture of blurbs, one shots, and series.
I write for -
The Pitt:
Dr. Robby, Jack Abbot, John Shen, Trinity Santos, Dana Evans…anyone else in the show? Just ask.
Music:
The Weeknd so far, more artists will be added as I get more comfy and write more. I’d LOVE to write some Noah Sebastian from Bad Omens…soooo
Supernatural:
I haven’t yet, but I’d love to write for Dean or Sam.
Criminal Minds:
Basically everyone except Elle…she drives me insane. Cannot stand her. I’d LOVE to write some Hotch 😈
MDNI - I CANNOT EXPRESS THIS ENOUGH
I have a couple hard limits: no scat, no underage, and no animals.
These are all works of fiction. Some ideas have come from deep recesses of my mind. ALWAYS READ THE WARNINGS AND ALWAYS ASSUME EVERYTHING IS NSFW, MDNI, AND WILL HAVE EITHER SMUT OR MENTIONS OF SMUT.
Trust should be your #1 Kink, PEOPLE!
Masterlist:
The Pitt
Dr. Michael Robinavitch:
Period Cramps: Part 1
The Train -smut
Flavors -smut
Back To Sleep - smut
Bad Dream - fluff
WHOOPS-smut: Part 1
Bad Kitty TW: CNC
Something Just Like This - fluff
RobbyxVirgin Reader: Part 1
Not Named Yet: Part 1
Little Lamb - fluff
Blush - lil smut
Comfort after a nightmare - fluff
Debt Collectors- SMUT: Part 1
Tough Love - smut
Dirty Diana: Part 1
Roleplay TW: CNC
Catch You - fluff
Assert - smut
Provider: Part 1
Specificity Series: Part 1
Instinct - angsty fluff: Version 1 Version 2
Tik Tok Trends Robby/Jack: Daddy
Cuddle Buddies - fluff
Memory Lane - fluff
Commute: Part 1
On The Dot - fluffy spicyness
In the Shower -smut
ND Reader thoughts: Reading
Undergrad Robby - smut
Don’t Have to - CAN BE READ AS JACK OR ROBBY - smut
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‘He’s drunk, it doesn’t mean anything, he’s like this with everyone when he’s had a few’ is what you keep telling yourself. But according to Noah, he’s only like this with you.
Or: five times Noah tells you he likes you, and the one time you believe him.
Noah x Fem plus size!reader | title from hanging out to dry by Florence Road | part 1 of 5 | wc: 1244
"Hey! Pretty girl!"
Despite Noah's voice carrying clearly over the music playing in the living room, you keep snaking your way through the crowd to get to the back door. There's far too many people crushed into one building to be comfortable at all and while you're happy there's so many people who want to celebrate Jolly's birthday, there's never been a less appealing place to have a panic attack.
Noah's a sneaky little shit when he wants to be, though, catching up to you in a matter of seconds. It's probably his giraffe legs.
"Oh pretty laaaaady," he sing-songs, reaching forward to grab your hand and spin you around to face him, and- goddammit.
He's grinning at you, all teeth and boyishness, a Modelo in one hand and your fingers in the other, swinging your joined hands back and forth. His soft cheeks are red, brown eyes just barely glazed over as he looks you up and down, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he meets your eyes.
It's unfair, is what it is.
"I know you know my name, Noah," you sigh, your free hand tugging at your shirt out of habit. He nods, the little ponytail up on his head springing around.
"I do, but what's the harm in calling the pretty girl pretty?"
It takes a real effort to stop from rolling your eyes, even though it would be mostly out of fondness. It's sweet, what he's saying, but he clearly doesn't understand that that's not how the world works. The friend of a friend who's never even really been asked on a date doesn't get to be flirted with by the lead singer who could have whoever he wanted. Not for real anyway.
"You really do know how to commit to a bit, don't you?" You ask, quirking one eyebrow and pretending the feeling of his skin on yours isn't a lightning strike.
He's made a habit of seeking you out at social functions, calling out 'hey pretty girl!' over everyone else's heads and making a beeline for you. It goes like this; he calls out for you, grabs your hand, calls you cute little pet names, then disappears into the crowd like it never happened. If it's a joke, which it must be, it's quite a long-running one. It could be a bet, you think to yourself, the guys all running odds on how long it takes for you to realize it was a joke the whole time.
The thought stings, quick and sharp, that your friends might do that to you, but if there's one thing you've learned to count on, it's the reality of knowing these kinds of interactions never carry their surface value.
A tiny line pops up between his eyebrows as they smush themselves together on his forehead, but right when he opens his mouth someone almost bumps into you. Noah acts quickly, letting your hand go and pulling you closer to him by your shoulders, almost pulling you straight into his chest, and you catch the scent of his fabric softener. Just like everyone else in the house he’s more than half drunk and definitely sweating, but he still smells like fresh laundry and settled cologne.
Bastard.
Once whoever almost bumped you scoots by, you think he’ll drop his hands and let you go on your way, but no. Instead he clasps his wrists together on the back of your neck and fiddles with your necklace, the cold from the beer can making you shiver.
“I haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?” He asks, looking at you with a warm smile on his face like he genuinely cares about the answer.
You look up at him, sweet grin on his face, starting to gently sway the two of you back and forth, and maybe it’s the seltzer you’ve had, or maybe it’s just the way Noah is, but you answer him honestly.
“I’ve been alright, work is kicking my ass. It’s wedding season, so every late twenties woman in the tri-state area is showing me her Pinterest board and asking for ten thousand dollars worth of floral work for five hundred bucks.”
Noah snorts a laugh, only moving one hand to take a drink from the can. “I forgot Jolly told me you’re a florist. Is it cliché as fuck to ask your favorite flower?”
“It is, but we’re gonna ignore that. I love peonies.”
Noah looks down at where your arms lay by your hips, one hand leaving your neck and his fingers trailing along the peony tattooed on your arm.
“Second favorite?” He asks, a teasing smirk on his pretty face.
“Sunflowers.”
“Third favorite?”
A genuine laugh spills from your mouth, almost startling you. You can’t really remember the last time someone made you laugh like that, so out of the blue.
“Do you want my top five?”
Noah nods, his gaze focused on yours.
“Peonies, sunflowers, violets, ranunculus, and I know it’s a basic ass choice, but I do love a daisy.”
“Got it,” he says, nodding once like he’s committed the list to memory. “Now we get into the juicy stuff. Coffee or tea?”
The answer rolls off your tongue. “Tea, specifically an iced chai.”
“Books or movies?”
“Books always, the movie usually never does the book justice.”
“Candles or incense?”
The tips of his fingers are still tracing the tattoos on your arm, softly running along the lines of the leaves on the different flowers you’ve got in a half sleeve on your forearm. You know the answers to his questions, but it’s hard to focus on actually answering when he’s so close.
“Candles, I have far too many for just one person.”
You watch as his smile turns shark like, one eyebrow popping up. “Oh, so there is only one person? Interesting.”
This time you do roll your eyes, and he must know that you don’t really mean anything by it because his laugh rings out around you before he asks, “aquarium or museum?”
“Yes.”
His grin softens again, and both hands return to the back of your neck, adjusting your necklace so the clasp is in the right place.
“Last one. What’s a guy gotta do to get a shot with you, hm?”
You blink in surprise, looking up at him with your mouth half open. “There’s no way you mean that,” you say before you even have a chance to filter yourself.
“I do, actually. I-”
“Noah! We’re cutting the cake man, c’mon,” someone hollers out behind him, but he doesn’t look over his shoulder or move away. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and smiles at you instead.
“We should probably go be festive,” he says, and when you nod and go to pull away he stops you. “I do mean it. I don’t hang off of everyone like a koala, just you.”
“Sure, Noah,” you say, reaching up to pat him on the head, avoiding the cute little ponytail, before turning to the kitchen to sing Jolly happy birthday.
He’s a sweet guy, making an effort to come over and say hello when he sees you, and it’s nice of him to try and make you feel special. But you know, despite the shred of hope in the back of your brain, that you’ll never be what he wants.
A week later, when a text from an unknown number pops up, there’s a little tingle at the bottom of your spine.
CW: swearing, mention of period and tampons, mentions of alcohol, tension (but it is slowing melting... I promise)
A/N: hi everyone! here's the third little blurb (or do I automatically call it oneshot provided the number of words?). In my mind, that would be the second to last little thing before the conclusion of these little pieces I wrote 💛
Somebody that I used to know [prior blurb]
Indelible memories of delible people [prior blurb #2]
If you wanna join my taglist, you can do it here: Taglist ✨
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
You really couldn’t quite understand how Target chose to blast EDM music at 8:30 pm. Your pounding headache, paired with bloating, was a clear sign that you were due on your period in a few days, so that meant stacking up on snacks and junk food.
Standing in front of the wine aisle, you cursed yourself for thinking that it was just a “I can hold all of my shop in my hands” kinda run. Sour patch kids, strawberries, a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, a box of tampons and the newest book you wanted to read all stacked one upon the other in your arms.
The weight of every item was starting to get uncomfortable, but still, you couldn’t decide what to go for. Red or white? Maybe it’s not even that, maybe you want beer or you don’t want alcohol at all.
The last few weeks haven’t been the easiest. Meeting the three men did nothing if not stirring memories buried deep into your mind. Images, sensations, emotions that, you hoped, never got to see the light of day.
So you decided to treat yourself: sushi was on the way, comfy clothes, candles and an evening with just yourself and your new book, fresh off the shelves.
Sushi? Sushi is fish so with fish, definitely a white wine.
Happy with your choice and your ability to balance a glass bottle on your hand, you gingerly made your way to the self-checkouts.
Rounding the corner, you immediately spotted a group of heavily tattooed men waiting in line for check - out, a couple of full carts nestled among a sea of black shirts, long hair and inked skin.
If the tattoos didn’t give them away the second you laid eyes on them, the long, raven head of hair did.
Nicholas.
Beside him? A taller frame. His black tank top highlighted the two symmetrical flower tattoos on his shoulders.
Noah.
Your breath caught in your throat. The music suddenly became way louder, intruding on your eardrums.
No, not tonight.
You didn’t want to deal with a bunch of dumb, repetitive questions.
You didn’t want to put on a fake smile, pretending that what happened a few years before was water under the bridge.
Your reaction must’ve been very slow because a pair of eyes spotted you, giving you the chance to gauge the whole array of emotions flashing through his face.
“Y/N?” a faint voice cut through the ringing in your ears.
In your panicked state, you slid into the nearest aisle.
Your hurried steps brought you in the middle of the corridor, trying to hide behind a couple.
“Y/N?” That voice was louder and louder.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You took interest in whatever presented in front of you: baby food and baby wipes.
That it’ll do, you thought as you took a glass container of apple and banana puree.
“Y/N… There you are,” Folio’s voice cut through the background music.
“Folio!” you squeaked, “didn’t see you there.” Your hand instinctively tightened the grasp it had on the container.
“It’s so nice to see you” the man exclaimed, opening his arms inviting you into a hug.
There was a familiarity in that touch. Folio hugged the same way he did when you hung out with the boys. His arms placed securely on your back, his palm spread wide drawing soothing circles onto your middle.
Yet, the smell that filled your nostrils differed a bit: the fresher, citrusy smell he sported as a teenager was replaced by a mix of tobacco and leather.
“I’ve missed you” the man said, his voice muffled by your hair.
Hearing those words felt like getting a crack in that perfect mask you created around them, around the wounds left by that relationship.
For the first time, your muscles relaxed and gave you a chance to actually enjoy the proximity with him. You drew a deep breath, trying to calm down the burning sensation in your throat.
“I’ve missed you too,” you whispered.
Letting go of the hug, Folio spotted what you were holding. For a moment, you watched as his eyes darted quickly between the baby food and you before tentatively asking “Are congratulations in order?”
“Oh no no no” you chuckled nervously as you put back the container on the shelf. “It is… it is for a friend of mine. New mum” you nodded, in an effort to look convincing.
“Oh I see” he stood there for a moment. His hand nervously reached the back of his neck, playing with the collar of his button up.
“Well, it has been…” your attempt to say goodbye was cut short by Folio.
“We’re all here Y/N. I feel like the others would be happy to say hello to you” his round eyes lit up.
He gestured the direction he came from.
There was a beat of silence before he incredulously added: "literally everyone” his brows now furrowed into a confused expression.
You couldn’t help it. Seeing Folio just as confused as you were, took you back to the time Noah turned 18 and the group decided that the shop for the party must be completed with the whole crew around.
So you did.
You, Nicholas, Folio, Jolly, Noah, Davis and a few other friends tackled the nearest Walmart split into pairs.
Each pair with a goal to achieve - food, drinks, cake, party supplies.
The E.F.F. technique Folio called it. Efficiency, Fun, and Friendship.
Although the group hated that acronym, the tradition, with the name, stuck. Every get together, every birthday, every major life event had to be opened with an E.F.F. session.
“I see that the E.F.F. technique is still taking place after all those years” you said fighting the major lump in your throat.
Folio’s eyes softened, “I guess you could say that” a sad smile tugged at his lips.
“So, as I was saying” the man picked up where he left off “would you wanna say hi to the others?”
“I’m not sure Nick, I…” your words died in your mouth.
“Folio, dude, what’s taking you so long? The cashier’s almost done with…” the voice cut abruptly.
You felt him, before even seeing him. You noticed how Folio instinctively straightened up, his jaw tensed, making him lose that hopeful and joyful expression.
Noah was standing at the edge of the aisle. Under the cold, overhead neon lights of the shop, the changes that you saw through the window were more evident.
His features didn’t hold onto a singular boyish softness that you knew. His fuller cheeks were now hollower, highlighting the sharp edges of his cheekbones and jaw.
A few more wrinkles framed his face, especially around his mouth and between his brows.
The boy who had been your best friend ever since childhood completely disappeared in favour of a grown man who you didn’t know, though.
His dark irises locked into yours, yet maintaining an unreadable expression.
You stood there completely frozen in your spot, somehow embarrassed to be caught with tampons in your hands.
On his end, his gaze unashamedly took you in. It drifted from your face, to your tight jaw, your tensed lips, before noticing your oversized hoodie, your haphazardly bun with frizzy ends sticking out, arms filled with supplies.
“Y/N” he stated dryly.
Even his voice went through subtle changes. In a way it sounded deeper, rougher. Heavier than the airer voice you came into contact with.
“Noah” you reciprocated attempting to mimic his tone, unfortunately resulting in a choked sound.
Folio stood awkwardly between the two of you, his gaze darting frantically between your two frames.
“I…” he started trying to lighten the sudden tension “I found her by the baby food”
Noah didn’t look at his friend, instead, he kept his eyes fixed entirely on you, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark jeans.
“Folio” Noah stated, still not breaking eye contact with you “Give us a second, man.”
I am tagging the people who interacted with the original post (If you don't wanna be tagged, just drop a dm).
I've realized that something must've been gone wrong, because on the prior blurb, half of the people I tagged, Tumblr decided to delete!
I am so sorry.
A/N: hi everyone! I heard you loud and clear from the comments I got under the first post. It will have a happy ending, but, in the meantime, indulge me (a serial angst lover) in writing a bit of tension. I thought to try one format that doesn't come naturally to me and write a series of little blurbs for the idea that I have. I imagine them just as little pictures that we get into their lives. Let me know what you think! 💛
P.S. Have I been a bit impatient with posting this second blurb? Maybe 🤭
If you wanna add something to the reading experiece, @takeme1st suggested reading it with this song as your background 🖤
Somebody that I used to know [prior blurb]
If you wanna join my taglist, you can do it here: Taglist ✨
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
Wednesday's lunches meant one thing only: book club time.
A group of older ladies took interest in your own little shop and chose it as their habitual location for their book club meeting. They were quite a welcomed company because of the slower rhythm during the central parts of the day.
Unfortunately today, something must’ve happened because the shop was packed. The usual quiet hum of the room was replaced by loud chattering that, on top of the soft music still playing, generated a cacophony of sounds that could be truly overwhelming.
Noelle and you had barely time to sit down, or to go to the bathroom even.
Among orders to go and to serve at the table, you managed to squeeze in a quick washing of the filters of the coffee machines. A very unique occurrence due to the high concentration of customers in such a small amount of time.
Turning around to the cashier counter, you found two pairs of eyes staring at you.
Shit. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re welcoming us with too much enthusiasm” said Davis, clutching his chest, “you should calm down” you heard Jolly chuckle beside him.
“No yeah, it’s just..” you started, wiping your hands clean onto the towel that was in between your apron strings. “You know, a couple of days ago I saw Noah, but I didn’t expect that the whole crew would be here” you admitted, your voice so soft, it was almost lost crushed under the buzzing of the voices.
By assessing their reactions, both men seemed taken aback from what you just confessed.
“Didn’t Noah tell you?” you asked timidly.
Jolly promptly shook his head.
Your heart sank. Oh, okay.
“Well, he could certainly have, you know, and maybe..” Davis cut through. You heard a slight panic in his tone, his hands fidgeting nervously with his car keys “Maybe it’s us. That man has the ability to speak for days and we need to tune him out, sometimes” he concluded not being able to look you in the face.
Your features naturally assumed the chirpy, enthusiastic expression you reserved for your customers.
Because that’s all they were now. Just customers.
“Of course” you chuckled. “What can I get started for you?” you warmly asked.
Methodically, you started preparing their order. It was muscle memory at this point. Taking cups from the right corner of the counter, dosing the coffee, tamping it, pulling a shot and then topping it all off with foam if required.
That little routine gave you the time to pull yourself together.
What did you expect? After years of not talking to each other, that the one time you see him, not even interacting with him, he’s running to his friends to tell them?
That’s called wishful thinking Y/N.
“There you go, boys” you happily pushed the two cups on the counter. “That would be 4.80”
The whole interaction was burdened with a question lingering on the tip of your tongue.
Watching them getting out of the shop, awoke something in you. Leaving the very next client hanging, you sprinted out.
“Wait!!” you yelled waving the towel in the air.
Jolly was the first one to spot you. He had a foot already in the car, his hand gently resting on the car door.
The midday sun was blaring onto you, your neck already coated in sweat, just added more to your discomfort.
The moment you reached them, completely out of breath, the words that wanted to come out died in your throat.
Your heart hammered in your chest, not really sure if that was for the little jog you had or for the anxiety.
The more you looked at them, the more memories from that season of life made their way forcefully over your mind.
A part of your life that you forced to be buried deep. A part that convinced yourself to have completely detached from your current daily life.
Yet, in front of these two men, you regressed to that shy, awkward 15 year old who felt like she hung out with people way cooler than she was.
Jolly and Davis stared back, waiting for the dam to finally break, for you to stop fighting with yourself and ask, tell, or just say whatever was on your mind.
To their eyes, you didn’t change a bit. Of course you’ve gotten older, but the same softness and shyness that you sported so openly at 15 was now nestled behind your irises.
You were a woman who just learnt how to conceal what she didn’t like about herself.
An unceremonious honk of a car was the noise that snapped the three of you out of the freeze state you found yourselves in.
You forced a very polite smile onto your face, the kind which didn’t reach your eyes.
“Tell the others I said hi.” You swished your towel in a dismissive gesture, trying to hide the cringing feeling gnawing at your stomach.
A sad smile tugged at Davis’ lips. “Will do” he simply stated before getting into the car, driving off.
You stood there, on the pavement, watching as the car quickly became a little dot on the horizon.
Throwing your towel on your shoulders, you rubbed aggressively your hands onto your face, a strained sound ripped from your chest.
Lifting your gaze, you found Noelle’s. She was looking at you through the same windowpane you spotted Noah a few days before, a small smile on her face.
You could tell that she watched the whole interaction unfolding.
With the smallest of gestures, her head tilted slightly, come back in.
You took a moment to gather yourself, your fingers playing absentmindedly with the coarse texture of the apron. Clearing your throat, a fully fledged smile appeared on your face as you made your way towards your safe space.
I am tagging the people who left a comment under my original post or reblogged it (If you don't wanna be tagged, just drop a dm)
A/N: hi everyone! This is just a little blurb I came up with in order to try and get myself out of a writing block i am experiencing. Let me know what you think!
If you wanna join my taglist, you can do it here: Taglist ✨
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
Soft music filled the room of your little coffee shop, the bright may sun was shining down the building making the steel coffee machines reflect tiny speckles of light onto the wall.
“Two espressos and a cappuccino with soy milk coming right up,” you exclaimed in response to Noelle, your coworker, shouting out the order.
Humming along with the song, you noticed how your bracelet caught the sunshine casting coloured reflections onto the wall blending with the coffee machine ones. You made a mental note to jot down this little moment you had in your journal.
A small smile tugged at your lips. You were really trying to find beauty in the mundane. You felt like you needed it.
Yet, romanticising your life felt harder than anticipated. Especially when your alarm clock goes off at 4 am in order to open your own shop at 6 every single day. It felt harder when you were submerged by deadlines and bills, while still trying to be a functioning adult taking care of your relationships.
You couldn’t complain though. You wanted this. A simple life, where you carved your little corner, safe, cozy, warm, being able to share and offer people a place where they could just enjoy their food and beverages leaving worries and anxieties at the door.
Picking up a white towel, wiping down the coffee machine, your eyes drifted casually onto the window looking out to the sunlit pavement.
Weird, you thought, your regular still hadn’t showed up. You chuckled to yourself, remembering the last conversation you had with her about a work event she had to attend the night prior. Eventually she will have to pass by, she’d need all the caffeine.
But then, your hand froze. A shadow had stopped just outside your window.
Noah.
He was standing on the sidewalk, hands comfortably placed in his pockets. Although the sunlight cast a slight glare onto the windowpane, his image was clear as day.
He’d gotten taller, his frame broader, yet he still sported that slight slump in his shoulder. The one you kept on teasing him for. Though, looking at his face, your breath hitched in your throat. He changed. His once soft traits, hardened. His jaw was set, making his already straight nose line feel even sharper.
His hair got shorter, falling messily around his face, covering part of his forehead.
Your heart hammered against your ribs, heat crept behind your neck eliciting shivers down your spine.
The noises of the coffee shop, Noelle’s laughter, the slight hubbub of clients, dialed down until a piercing ringing in your ears took over.
You saw play by play the realization washing over him once he locked eyes with you.
His jaw tensed a bit, making his muscles jump. However he didn’t move. He didn’t smile or waved. He just stood there, taking you in: your cream white apron securely tied to your waist, your frizzy hair tied up in a loose ponytail.
For a second you noticed how his gaze lingered on the gold door handle of your shop.
You dragged your eyes to the handle too. Its worn out colour was staring back at you.
Flicking back to Noah, you found him still focused on the tiny object dividing you two.
He took off his right hand agonizingly slow, fingers reaching for the door just to freeze just a few centimeters away.
You completely stopped breathing. Staring back, the white towel tightly gripped between your hands, now squeezed completely into a ball, you waited for the bell above to chime in.
That sound never came.
With a twitch of his hand, he retracted it, pushing it into his pocket again.
You noticed how he visibly swallowed before averting his eyes from yours, lowering his head. He just stood there a bit more, his foot lightly playing with a cigarette butt tossed on the floor.
Your mind screamed to run and open the door. You wanted to know how he was, how his new life was treating him. You hoped that, under that guarded look, there was still the Noah you got to be friends with. Your Noah. The one who kept teasing you about a stupid crush you developed for a friend of his. The one who showed up at your house unannounced and with a bag full of chinese take - out, “courtesy of Davis” he used to say with a grin plastered on his face.
Yet, your body was frozen in its spot. Your knuckles were white by then, towel still crumpled up in your grip. Feet planted on the floor, completely nailed onto it, as if you were rooted to the spot.
Helplessly you watched as Noah simply turned around, vanishing between the flow of people coming down the street.
“Are you alright?” Noelle’s voice came like a distant call to the present moment.
You swallowed the heavy lump in your throat, blinking away the tears that threatened to come out.
Still looking outside the glass window you nodded “yeah..” you whispered. “I thought I saw somebody that I used to know."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You stared at your reflection in the long mirror. Your eyes trailing over your hair, not a strand out of place. Then to your make up, perfect, but your natural blush showing through your foundation. You smoothed your hands over your stomach before they fell to your side. A smile crossed your face, as if trying to convince yourself you were ready for this, that this was right, that you could do this without him, this was it.
A knock at the door pulled you from your racing mind. Your breath shaky as you prepared for your bridal party to accompany you to the ceremony.
“Come in” your words wobbled.
The large oak door opened slowly, your attention still focused on your white dress though through the corner of your eye, you watched in shock as a tall, tattooed frame appear from the other side of the door.
“Noah?!” You spun round, gathering a handful of the delicate fabric that flowed around you, pulling your dress up slightly careful not to trip.
Noah’s gaze fixed on you, his pupils blown and eyes wide as his mouth hung loosely.
“Noah? You came.” Your voice filled the silence again, laced with slight frustration.
“I… i uh, you look” Noah swallowed, running a hand over his jaw as if to put it back in place. “You look.. I don’t have the words, you are breathtaking”
Your expression softened as you watched Noah take hesitant steps closer to you. You straightened your shoulders as you felt your face flush.
“Why are you here Noah? You told me you weren't coming, that you couldn't do it.”
The last time you had seen Noah was 36 days ago, not that you were counting. 36 days since your best friend of over 10 years told you that he was in love with you. Noah had 10 years to confess his feelings. He could have told you 8 years ago when you drunkenly kissed him after a Halloween party. He could have told you 6 years ago after you hinted after yet another shitty date that you wished you could find a guy just like him. He could have told you 3 years ago when you started dating your fiancée. He could have told you when you asked him to walk you down the aisle, instead, he waited to tell you on the night of your bachelorette party.
Noah reached out and rested his hand gently on your cheek.
“I had to see you, as your best friend. I couldn’t let you get married without me here with you. I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry for ruining things. This is your day, your life. All I ever want is for you to be happy.”
Your hand lifted to cup Noah’s that was still holding your cheek. Your eyes began to well at the sight of your best friend, your Noah. The man that had been by your side through all of life’s big moments so far, all of the ups and the downs. Not having him in your life for even this short time has felt like a part of you has been missing.
“I’ve missed you so much Noah, nothing has felt right without you here.” you admitted, feeling a stray tear run down your face.
“My make up!” You laughed through a sob as you used the back of your thumb to dab your face and catch any lingering tears that were a blink away from spilling down your face.
Noah smiled, his fingers skimmed over your hair as he took his time taking in every part of you before he spoke again, almost a whisper.
“I know I should have said something sooner, or not at all, and I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to loose you. I promise I can handle this. I won’t make this messy or uncomfortable for you.”
Noah sucked in a breath before continuing.
“Ryan is a good guy, I know he loves you and if this is really what you want, to spend your life with him, then I'll still be right here supporting you.”
You nodded your head, Ryan is a good guy, and yes, he does love you. You felt the familiar sting rise at the back of your throat and your stomach flip as you tried to quiet your mind.
Noah doesn’t feel the same, you have to move on and find someone else.
The words that you had spent years telling yourself. The same words you repeated over and over to get yourself out of your apartment the night you had your first date with Ryan.
You felt the blood rush to your head, a ringing in your ears as words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“I thought I made it obvious, over the years”
Your eyes locking as you inched closer to Noah.
“Made what... obvious?” Noah said, his voice hesitant and shaky.
Your hand brushed his as your heart quickened. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you knew that it was now or never.
“That I love you. That I have loved you since the day I met you, Noah.” Tears began to fall more freely “I kissed you that Halloween because I wanted to, drunk or not, I told you I wanted someone just like you. You were always messing around with other girls, I never thought for a second that you might have felt the same way and I was scared to tell you in case I ruined things between us.”
“I, I was messing around with other girls to try and fill something that I now know can’t be filled by anyone else. Fuck, I’ve always been in love with you, but back then I knew that you deserved someone better. I didn’t want to loose our friendship, I was so worried that I’d fuck things up.”
Your hands were now clasped together, Noah’s long tattooed fingers laced between yours.
“When you met Ryan, and things started to get serious, I felt fucking sick, but I could see that you were happy. I tried to convince myself that it was for the best. That maybe we are soulmates, but just not the romantic kind. But seeing you at your bachelorette, you looked so beautiful. The photos of him everywhere, the dress you wore that skimmed every, perfect part of you that I have spent years wishing I could touch. I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to tell you how I feel about you.”
Noah declared, choking on emotion as his eyes were damp and you could see his chest rise and fall in quick succession.
Your fingers breaking away from Noah’s, you hitched your dress up once more and walked past him towards the door. Your fingers hesitated for a split second, before reaching down and with a click, you locked the door. Your lungs filled as you took a deep breath and turned on your heels walking back to Noah quickly, closing the distance between you. Your eyes dragged over him and his tailored black suit pants that fit every inch of him perfectly. A crisp white shirt with the sleeves pushed up around his elbows showing off his adorned forearms and his heavy silver chain that hung loosely around his wrist. His dark hair neat, though a few strands fell loosely around his face.
Noah leaned down as you craned your neck upwards to meet him, your foreheads touching as you heard his heart thud against his chest. His deep, spicy cologne making you feel dizzy.
Without hesitation this time, your lips met his in a gentle, passionate kiss that was fuelled by years of longing. Noah leaned into you more, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your tongue slipped into his mouth as you tasted him, a linger of dutch courage laced with spearmint.
Noah pulled away, a gasp escaped him as he tried to steady his quickened breathing.
“Are we doing this? Are we really doing this, here? Right now?” He panted.
“Noah, right. now. Not a second longer, please.”
Your hands tracing the back of his neck. Your tone left no room for debate, telling yourself you would suffer the consequences later, but for now, you had both waited long enough.
Noah snaked his arms around you and held you tightly as his lips crashed onto yours again, this time with more force, as if he had been waiting for confirmation that this was really happening. The kiss deepened like waves crashing against a rocky shoreline.
“Noah-“ you huffed in between frantic kisses.
“I need to get out of this dress”
Noah kissed you once more, then trailed down your neck, planting kisses over your shoulder as he gently turned you so that your back was facing him. Noah stilled as his eyes tried to find where the ribbon on your corset bodice started and finished. The change in the air helped you sense his confusion.
You chuckled “Sorry, it did take 3 bridesmaids and a lot of patience to get into this thing”
Noah’s hands toyed with the fabric for a few seconds, finding the last tied ribbon. You sighed in relief as you felt the corset begin to loosen, unaware until now of just how suffocating it was. His hands were gentle and his movements slow. Finally, you were able to step out of your wedding dress and face Noah, leaving it in a crumpled mess on the floor.
Your bridal lingerie was now on full display, suddenly causing you to feel shy and nervous under Noah’s dark gaze. A sheer white lace balcony bra, matching panties and a garter sitting comfortably at the top of your right thigh.
“Fuck..” Noah’s jaw flexed as he looked you up and down. His head dipped as he began peppering kisses over your collarbone, slowly working down to your chest as his hands trailed over your breasts, slightly pinching your nipples through the delicate fabric. A soft moan fell from your lips at the feeling of Noah’s hands exploring your body, something you had thought about for a long, long time.
You reached your arms behind your back, unhooking your bra and letting it join your dress on the floor.
“I think you’re a little over dressed” you teased.
“Hmm, do you think so?…” Noah taunted back with a smirk as he began unbuttoning his white shirt.
His tattoos becoming more visible by the second. Impatience stirred in you as Noah’s shirt finally fell to the floor. He didn’t waste anymore time, he picked you up like you were nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist as he walked you over to the large four-poster bed and placed you down so carefully, like he was scared to break you.
Noah hovered over you, his hands needing your now bare chest. Your skin felt like it was on fire, a rush of heat between your thighs causing your core to ache. His lips grazed your neck as one hand tilted your chin up, allowing him better access. You arched your hips, trying to find more of him to help ease the pressure that was continuing to build between your legs.
“I. Love. You.” Noah said slowly between kisses. “It was always. You.”
You gasped as you felt a long finger run over the now soaked lace between your thighs, stopping just at your clit as he applied a little pressure to the most sensitive spot, pulling another moan from you. You lifted your hips as Noah pulled the lace fabric down your legs, the garter still snug against your thigh. Noah’s large hand ran up and down your leg, worshipping each part of your skin. He leaned back, unbuckling and unzipping, finally removing the last piece of clothing as he repositioned himself over you.
He teased you a little before he slowly sunk into you, your eyes fluttered at the sensation how perfectly he filled you. Noah’s head tilted back as he groaned, letting you adjust to him for a moment before he rolled his hips back into you. His mouth placing wet kisses as he nuzzled into your neck, his right hand found yours and pinned it against the soft mattress, your fingers intertwining as he squeezed gently.
“So fucking perfect” Noah huffed into your ear as his pace quickened slightly, though still slow and deep with each roll of his hips. Your skin was clammy and your breathing sharp.
This felt so right.
He felt so right.
Even after years and years of imagining this in your head, nothing prepared you for just how incredible it would really feel, like you truly were made for eachother. Your bodies merged into one as your free hand grasped around Noah's hair, pulling him even closer into you.
The excitement, the overwhelming relief, the feeling of Noah stretching you, hitting all the right spots, his muscular tattooed frame towering over you, caused you to tighten around him. Your breathing hitched as you felt pressure building in your lower stomach.
"I, Noah, I.." was all you could choke out as your vision blurred, your mouth fell open and your head fell back, tightening your hold on Noah's hair as you came undone around him. A tear escaped your eye as Noah's breathing become more unsteady, your hand move to now cup his face so that you could look at him "I love you" you whispered, barley audible. Noah kissed you as you felt him tense inside of you, his lips crashing onto yours.
Sounds of heavy breathing and loud sighs filled the room for a few moments. Noah rolled over and you turned onto your side to face him. He looked so achingly handsome as he lay there trying to catch his breath, his skin flushed and his hair a little damp. He opened his arm and motioned for your to lean into him. You rested your head on his chest and gazed up at him.
"Noah.. What do we do now?" you asked as the realisation of your situation came crashing down around you.
"We get dressed, and.. I can deal with everyone, if that's what you want. I can speak to Ryan." Noah said calmly like it was nothing.
You eyed him, sitting up slightly "You would do that for me? I mean, I think I should speak to Ryan, it should come from me."
Noah's hand traced circles on your shoulder as he hummed "My perfect girl.. I would" He shook his head "I will, do anything for you. I will spend my life doing anything and everything that makes you the happiest girl in the world. I have so much lost time to make up for. Whatever comes our way when we walk out of this room, I'm here, I'm with you, and we will face it all together. If you want to face this head on, I’m here. If you want to run away, you run away and let me fix things, ok?" He planted a soft kiss to your forehead.
Your heart swelled at Noah's words. You knew that no matter what was waiting for you, everything would be ok because you had Noah by your side, finally after all this time, Your Noah.
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Summary: Hidden Stories is your goal in order to fulfill your lifelong dream of becoming a tattoo artist. What you didn't expect was to find a brother and a receptionist who both annoyed you and made you laugh in equal measure.
CW: Swearing, angst (them fighting)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (+18 only)
A/N: Happy Friday everyone! There it is, chapter 2! Hope you all enjoy it! We are starting to get and explore their dynamic a bit more 👀 Daisy & Em (@takeme1st)💛🖤
Divider by @strangergraphics
Disclaimer: These are fictionalized versions of the band members. Their actions and personalities in this story are entirely products of our imagination and are not intended to represent the real people in any way.
Chapter 2
The first few seconds were a bit confusing. That face looked familiar, he wasn’t a complete stranger.
It was his tattoos on his hands that gave him away. You rolled your eyes, annoyance starting to bubble into your stomach.
NOAH FUCKING DAVIS
“You…” the realization made your voice a tiny bit higher than expected.
“In the flesh, sunshine” he quipped, still adjusting his hair.
Unimpressed by that “witty” remark, you just turned all the way towards Nick, trying to tune out whatever came through Noah.
“To what do I owe the pleasure on this rainy Sunday afternoon?” you asked, still annoyed about the abrupt interruption to your already planned day.
“Well,” Nick started, his eyes darting around the room, an unnerving habit he had when he was trying to get the right words out. “Noah’s going to be the new receptionist” he stated.
Oh. Your stomach dropped to your feet. The new receptionist? How fucking lucky Y/N, you really have some lucky stars in the sky.
If looks could kill, Nick would definitely be underground at this point. When was he going to tell you? Apparently, your dumb friend decided on Noah’s first day.
Timing has always been his strong suit.
“Oh okay” that was all it came out of your mouth. Better, all that you allowed out. Not only that, but you made sure that it was accompanied by a very visible shrug of your shoulders. Noah already annoyed you once. That wasn’t gonna happen again. Not in his wildest dream.
He got a hold of you once, and that was all it took to have a very clear and defined image of who he was.
So you chose to ignore him. If you’re going to be colleagues, which apparently it was already a fact, your interactions will be limited to the essentials in order to keep the studio running smoothly. Nothing more, nothing less.
You noticed the two men exchanging a quite confused look.
“So” you chimed, trying to keep your tone as neutral as possible, “seeing that you two are in the shop, could I at least grab something to eat real quick?”
Nick and Noah seemed to be frozen in their spot.
Nick was looking at you, brows furrowed, droplets of water still tracing his features. He opened his mouth to say something, but then decided against it, just to nod. Nudging with his head towards the door he simply stated “I didn’t see anything.”
Going around them, you were out in a heartbeat.
You finally could take a deep breath and cursed out loud in the middle of the street, actually scaring a man walking his dog.
The front door clicked shut behind you. Silence settled over the shop, the only sound left was the steady drumming of raindrops against the shop windows. Noah watched as you disappeared down the street before turning to Nick.
“…She hates me.”
Nick didn’t even look up as he started hanging his rain-soaked jacket by the door.
“I’m shocked,” he replied.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Noah frowned.
“I wasn’t even trying to be an asshole.”
“I know.”
“I was making a joke.”
“I know.”
“It was a good joke,” Noah tried.
Nick finally looked at him.
“No.”
“…It really wasn’t.”
Noah sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I should probably stop talking.”
“That would certainly improve your chances.”
“You’re a terrible friend,” Noah glared.
“I’m an honest friend.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Noah’s mouth despite himself.
“So…” Nick continued. “Can you at least try not to piss off our apprentice?”
“I’ll behave.”
Nick narrowed his eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“…That’s exactly what worries me.”
Noah scoffed.
“I can be professional.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Nick shrugged and led Noah behind the reception desk.
“Alright,” he said, dropping a ring of keys onto the counter. “Welcome to Hidden Stories.”
Noah looked around.
Nick pointed toward the computer.
“Appointments are all in here. Don’t touch anything unless you know what you’re doing.”
“Got it.”
“The phone rings, you answer it.”
“I figured.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Nick opened one of the drawers beneath the counter.
“Consent forms, aftercare sheets, business cards.”
Another drawer.
“Flash sheets.”
Nick motioned toward the workstations.
“If an artist asks for something, you get it.”
“Towels?”
“Towels.”
“Gloves?”
“Gloves.”
“Coffee?”
“Especially coffee.”
He glanced toward the back of the studio where you had spent the entire morning cleaning.
“And try not to make her life harder than it already is.”
Noah frowned.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
Nick gave him a knowing look.
“I know you weren’t.”
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you somehow manage it anyway.”
Half an hour has passed since you left. Noah had already made himself comfortable behind the reception desk. He looked around. The walls were buried beneath framed flash sheets, paintings and sketches collected over years, each one fighting for space among antique frames and odd little trinkets. Warm Edison bulbs cast amber lights over black leather tattoo chairs, while the scent of disinfectant mixed strangely well with fresh coffee and green soap.
He couldn’t help but think about the look on your face when he had walked in. God knew Noah needed this job, since the band was far from paying the bills at the moment. He must’ve really pissed you off.
Nick's voice interrupted his musings.
“I need to step out for an hour or so. I’ve called Y/N to tell her to come back,” he said. ”I’ve shown you how everything works. Phone, appointments, register… you’ll survive.”
He paused with his hand on the handle.
“And Noah?”
“Yeah?”
“Leave the poor girl alone.”
Noah looked genuinely offended.
“I wasn’t planning on bothering her.”
Nick raised an eyebrow.
“You bothered her within thirty seconds of meeting her.”
“…Fair.”
Nick shook his head with a quiet laugh.
“I’ll be back in about an hour.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, Noah glanced toward the back of the shop where you’d been standing forty-five minutes ago.
“…One hour.”
He frowned.
“…I can totally not annoy someone for one hour.”
You took your sweet time, enjoying a very warm, very hearty soup on a little table beside a glass window of your favourite café.
Just as you’re about to have your midday coffee, Nick’s contact lit up the screen of your phone.
“Yeeees?” you answered.
“I don’t think 45 minutes is considered to be quick Y/N” an annoyed Nicholas was on the other side of the line. A mischievous smile tugged at your lips.
“So sorry” you mocked, safe from Noah’s ears “I got caught up! You know how it is, Nick, rush hour.” You had to put a hand on your mouth trying to contain the laugh.
“Y/N…” his tone was getting more serious by the second.
“I got it, DAD… you’re so not fun when you’re like this. I’m ten minutes away, just hang on.”
You knew you pushed your luck already, so, without wasting any more time, you made your way back. The rain didn’t stop, on the contrary, it got harder.
“FUCK ME” you started angrily while closing the parlor door, shaking the rain droplets off your leather jacket.
What you didn’t expect was to be met with absolute silence.
No funny remarks from Nick? No snickering?
Turning towards the hanger, you noticed the absence of your friend's jacket.
Ooooooh.
From the corner of your eye, you spotted him.
“Where’s Nick?” you asked him plainly.
From the swivel chair he was sitting on, you could see his posture straightening, his shoulder being even more square, jaw tensing.
Where are we? Military base camp?
“He said he’ll be back in an hour” his voice felt smaller than the rowdy lanky dude you met months ago.
You nodded mindlessly. “Do you need anything?” you asked out of politeness.
He eagerly shook his head. “No, I’ve got it, Nick showed me how everything works.”
As if on cue, the phone began ringing. Awoken from what you guessed was a similar trance state, Noah answered with an unnatural chirpy tone “Hidden Stories Tattoo, I’m Noah, how can I help you?”
His little head nods were punctuated with the ever angrier tapping of his finger on the computer space bar but, the machine wasn’t having it, the screen kept being pitch black.
You bit back a laugh trapping your lower lip between your teeth. You couldn’t peel your eyes off him. Frozen in your spot, you were curious to know how it ended.
“Hidden Stories Tattoo, I'm Noah. How can I help you?”
"Hi! I'd like to reschedule my appointment with Chris."
Easy peasy.
But uh...Who's Chris?
Noah glanced at the computer.
Right. Appointment system. Nick definitely showed him this.
...Didn't he?
He tapped the space bar. Nothing. Why isn't it waking up? Is it asleep? Computers sleep, right? But they should wake up. He tapped the space bar again. Nothing. Is it on?
“Hello?” came the voice from the phone.
“Yep! Still here… I… Give me a second, our computer isn’t collaborating.”
He tried moving the mouse. Nothing. Fuck. Please don’t ask another question.
He caught a movement from the corner of his eye. You were watching him. Fuck. Should he just ask…? No. You already thought he was an idiot. If he asked, you’d think he was an idiot and incompetent.
And then the realization hit him. He hadn’t turned the computer on. Oh my god, he was stupid.
“Hold on one more minute, sir,” he said. “I think I’ve identified the problem.”
He could see you raise an eyebrow at him. He angled the laptop slightly away from you, not wanting you to see him press the start button. The customer on the other side of the line sighed slightly. Noah ran a hand through his hair, feeling small droplets of sweat beading on his forehead.
The computer finally turned on and he found the booking system quickly enough. But this… this was Nick’s bookings. Fuck. Shit. He eventually found the little roll bar of tattoo artists. Nick. You. Chris. Sarah. His gaze lingered momentarily over your name.
Noah cleared his throat.
“Thank you for your patience. When was your original appointment?”
It took him a few seconds to find.
“Ok yes, I’ve found it. Next Thursday at 11. I’ve canceled it now. He has an open slot the Wednesday after at 10, would that work for you?” Noah tried to keep the slight tremble away from his voice. Could you please stop staring at him?
After he’d hung up, Noah exhaled slightly and ran both hands through his hair. All in all, it hadn’t been that bad.
“That went well” you chuckled at the sight of him stressfully pulling his hands through his wispy hair.
He shot a deadly glare at you. “That was my first time.”
“Of course it was Noah.” Your condescending tone was dripping all over “and as the general rule goes for every first time, it can get messy. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it” you concluded, winking at the boy.
Glancing up at the clock, you knew you needed to get going because the very graceful surprise of the two men set you back a bit from the chores you still had to complete.
“Now” you cut through again “I’ll be in the break room working, if you need something, just give a yell.”
Without waiting for a reply, you closed the door behind you. What was supposed to be a decent break room, turned into a cramped storage room filled with polyethylene couch rolls, boxes upon boxes of clingfilm.
Secluded in a tiny little corner, there was the tiniest camping table with a foldable chair.
Your spot. Your tiny, but very earned little spot.
The surface was full of either normal paper or even the transfer one that you managed to snatch up from what wasn’t used up during the day.
During the very few moments you had for yourself, most of the time you were at this table, practising and practising your drawing skills.
You hoped that the more practice you had under your belt the faster the process of being promoted went.
Seeing the half finished flower design, you were so tempted to just sit down and finish it.
No one will ever know, right? Nick was gone for at least another 30 minutes and you could resume your tasks once he came back.
Looking around to check that no one was actually there, stupid habit you had, you sat down blasting the latest Bring Me the Horizon album, losing yourself into your craft.
“Sunshine” you heard him say, making you jump and your hand jerked. A heavy stroke of the pen sliced through your drawing, essentially ruining everything.
Looking at the pitch black line over the delicate design of the flower made your blood boil.
Probably not hearing an answer, Noah knocked at the door pushing it open.
“There you are” his chirpy tone was doing nothing to calm you down. “I thought that, because it’s almost 3:00, you could enjoy one last coffee before clients came in” he offered you a big white mug; warm black liquid swishing dangerously close to the edge of the ceramic.
“You don’t get to introduce hot liquids here, Noah. Get the fuck out,” you snapped. Your rule a bit lost now, given that what you were trying to protect was already ruined. You glared at him, shifting your gaze between him and the ruined drawing.
Pushing back your foldable chair, you stood up aggressively wanting to push him back where he came from.
Unfortunately, the room being quite small, Noah’s huge frame and your movements being too quick, your shoulder collided violently against Noah’s forearm making the mug tilt.
Coffee was spilled all over your shirt and your skin.
Noah was bored. The phone wasn’t ringing. There were no customers. No one needed his help. His phone was low on battery, and Nick was gone. He smiled to himself when he heard the music you had just put on. A woman of taste, he thought. He wanted to ask you what you thought of the new album but stopped himself. You were busy drawing.
Apparently, being a receptionist at a tattoo shop involved a lot more sitting around than he had anticipated. He spun around lazily in his office chair a few times before he caught himself. Professional. Right. He sat up a bit straighter, eyes wandering around the studio instead.
The walls were covered in flash sheets and other artwork. He examined the flash sheets for a while. He instantly recognized Nick's style. Some were traditional, some blackwork, some dotwork. He wondered how long the more intricate designs had taken to finish. And then he wondered if yours would ever hang on those walls beside the others. The thought surprised him as it slipped into his head.
Noah got up and wandered around the studio, trying to look busy. He opened a cabinet and looked at the bottles of ink in there. Another cabinet held paper towels and rolls of clingfilm. Another cleaning supplies. He made a mental note that he should probably order some more paper towels.
His gaze was drawn to where you were sitting. You didn’t notice him looking through the half open door. You were curled over a table that looked too small and cramped, your brows pinched together in concentration. A small strand of hair had fallen into your eyes. You didn’t seem to notice. He shuffled closer to get a look at what you were working on. Your pencil moved steadily over the paper, bringing a flower design to life. Huh. You were good. Like, really good. Noah was not much for floral designs, but even he would consider this one.
He thought you looked… different. Gone was the girl glaring at him. Gone was the girl that seemed to despise the very ground he walked on. You were so absorbed in your work that you seemed oblivious to the rest of the world. Noah also noticed an unmistakable streak of tiredness in your face. He knew that apprenticeship was hard, he remembered how worn it had made Nick. He knew you had been at the shop since early morning, cleaning the entire thing. You had been working on your designs. You had only stopped the moment he came through the door. Noah's brows furrowed. You probably needed coffee.
He busied himself in the cramped kitchen, brewing two mugs of coffee. He wondered if you took yours black or with creamer. Noah chuckled to himself, given how bitter you were he assumed you took it black.
Noah balanced the two mugs carefully as he exited the kitchen and walked over to your station.
”Sunshine?” he chirped and pushed the swinging door open. ”There you are.”
He looked down at the design. It looked like the pencil had dragged straight across the flower you’d been working on, leaving behind a thick black line.
Oh… that looked… bad.
“I thought that,” he began. “Because it’s almost three, you could enjoy one last coffee before clients come in..?”
Your gaze was fixed on the paper in front of you. Then slowly, very slowly, you looked up at him with fire in your eyes. You spat something about hot liquids and Noah tried to simply hold the cup of coffee out to you.
And then you stood up quickly. Too quickly. Your shoulder caught his lower arm, causing it to violently jerk upwards. Noah watched in slow motion as the hot liquid spilled from his outreached hand and all over you. No. No, no, no.
You gasped as the coffee slashed over your chest and arm.
”FUCK!”
“Jesus—” Noah quickly put both mugs down on the nearest shelf. “Are you okay?”
He reached out for you, gathering the hair that draped over your shoulders in one hand, lifting it out of the way.
“Don’t touch me,” you growled through gritted teeth.
“I need to see if you’re burned.”
“I’m fine.”
Noah could see the steam radiating from your skin and from the fabric of your shirt.
“No, you’re not,” he stated as he grabbed a hold of your wrist, forcefully tugging you along with him towards the kitchen.
You resisted, pushing your heels into the floor.
“Move.”
“I’m not—” you started.
“I said move.”
Noah pushed you into one of the chairs by the table before turning on the tap to the coldest setting and letting it run.
“Noah, I can—” you protested.
“Can you just trust me for five fucking seconds?”
“This is your fault!” you protested.
“I am perfectly aware,” he muttered. “So can you please stop with the attitude and let me help you?”
He rummaged through the cabinets for a second before finding a large enough towel. He ran it under the tap before ringing it out slightly and bringing it over to you. The fabric clung to your skin where the coffee had soaked through.
Noah frowned. It looked bad. Your skin was already turning red and he swore he could see it blistering.
“I’m going to have to move your shirt away from your skin for a second.”
You looked up sharply.
“Excuse me?”
”Only enough to see how burnt it is.”
Noah waited for a moment whilst you glared at him. He almost wanted to smile over your stubbornness, but stopped himself.
“…Fine.”
He hooked two fingers beneath the damp fabric, carefully pulling it away from your skin just enough for cool air to reach it. His fingers brushed lightly against your collarbone. You stiffened. Almost imperceptibly, but he felt it.
He immediately let go.
“…Sorry.”
You just huffed at him.
There was a moment of silence, Noah’s eyes fixed on your skin. On the angry red patch slowly spreading over your chest.
”Can I at least cool it down?”
You didn’t answer him, turning your face away.
”Please?” Noah asked. ”It’ll just get worse if I don’t.”
You hesitated for a second before letting out an annoyed sigh.
”Fine.”
Noah reached for the cool, damp towel.
“This will be cold.”
“No shit.”
He pressed the cold towel gently against your skin with one hand, the other hand pushed your shirt out of the way. Noah pretended not to notice the way your breath hitched.
“I’m sorry,” Noah offered.
“…Thanks,” you almost spat.
“You’re acting like I did it on purpose!” he said, not able to hide the slight edge in his voice.
“You don’t think, Noah! You just… do stuff.”
He let out an exasperated laugh.
“I brought you coffee.”
“I didn’t ask for coffee!” you spat.
“I was trying to be nice!”
You looked up at him, your features contorted with rage.
“I didn’t ask you to be nice either!”
Noah just looked at you for a second.
”…You know what?” Noah dropped the towel onto the table. ”I’m starting to think that there’s nothing I can do right when it comes to you.”
”You ruined my drawing!”
”I know. But I didn’t mean to. I work here now too. I’m going to be in the building.”
He sighed before continuing.
“It’s not my fault that you blast music so loud you can’t hear me approaching.”
There was a small silence.
”You spilled coffee all over me!” you snarled.
”I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t tried to physically push me out of the fucking room!” Noah snapped back, louder than intended.
He could feel how his chest rose and fell heavily.
There was a sudden sound from the front of the shop, and moments later Nick was standing in the door to the kitchen. He looked at the situation unfolding in front of him.
”What’s going on?”
You and Noah started talking at the exact same time.
“I brought her coffee—”
“He ruined my—”
“I was trying to—”
“He startled me!”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“He grabbed me!”
“I was trying to stop the burn!”
Nick sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“So… you tried to bring her coffee? And then what? Poured it all over her?” he asked.
Noah crossed his arms over his chest.
“I wouldn’t have if she didn’t try to literally push me out of the room.”
Nick turned his attention to you.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because he ruined my drawing. And because I didn’t ask him for coffee.”
“I was trying to be nice!” Noah defended.
“How did he ruin your drawing?”
You shrugged.
“He scared me.”
“Only because she didn’t hear me over her music!”
Nick looked at Noah.
“And you brought her coffee because…?”
“Because she looked tired,” Noah stated simply.
Nick leaned back, resting his back against the doorframe, arms crossed and an exasperated look on his face.
”Okay. Y/N, you have every right to be upset about your drawing…”
Noah threw both his hands up in frustration, giving his friend a look that very clearly said what the fuck?
Nick continued.
”But he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was being nice,” he said. ”And the two of you really need to figure out how to cooperate, because I don’t want to get rid of either of you.”
Noah stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling a bit hurt. What was up with you? Why were you so determined to dislike him? He’d made one stupid joke at a party. He tried to apologise. He had brought you coffee to be nice. And somehow, every attempt only seemed to make things worse. He genuinely couldn’t understand what he was doing so wrong.
”Right.” Noah muttered, pushing himself off the wall and quietly leaving the room.
You followed the boy with your gaze. His shoulder looked slumped, a deep sigh leaving him. He took his mug of coffee, tiredly sitting on his swivel chair, turning the computer on, starting to work on something you weren’t even sure.
A violent pang pierced through your chest. Was that guilt?
“And you brought her coffee because…?”
“Because she looked tired.”
That exchange cut through every other thought you could’ve had. The way that he said that was so…
“That looks rough” Nick cut through your thoughts. He indicated the red patch now slowly turning into a one giant blister.
“It feels like it,” you stated coldly. The guilt you were starting to feel, now completely buried underneath sheer anger.
Somehow, your gaze was still focused on him, on his movements; the way he held his mug, the slight frown when the hot liquid touched the delicate part of his lips.
“Now that Noah isn’t listening. Y/N… We need to cut the bullshit” Nick started sternly.
You shrugged, brows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?” you whipped your head towards your friend.
“Oh no missy, we’re not doing that” Nick retorted. “I’m not your puppet to use and treat however you want.”
You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.
“Unbelievable Nicholas. Are we really arguing about some guy?”
“SOME GUY?” Nick’s tone was getting louder “No, you don’t get to downplay who Noah is just because it serves you. He is my friend first AND your colleague. So no, he is not “some guy” Y/N.”
Your body went rigid from the stern position Nicholas had towards his friend. Very rarely you saw Nick being so determined and firm.
“Well…” you stammered “you saw what he did” you tried, once again, to defend yourself. Unfortunately, even to your ears that attempt sounded weak.
“I’m so sorry honey, but you’re making this way bigger than it actually is.” His tone got a bit softer, cutting the escalation that it was unfolding.
“He’s insufferable,” you muttered.
“What has he done?”
“He… ruined my drawing, and spilled coffee all over me. Do I need to repeat myself again?”
“He apologised multiple times Y/N. He is genuinely sorry for what he has done. And it wasn’t even on purpose”
You didn’t even get Nicholas a chance to continue before starting with your rambling.
“And then, who does he think he is? Just bursting through the door as if he owned the place.” Your gestures became bigger and more erratic.
“Not to mention the off hand comment he did, not even 30 seconds into being introduced. What the fuck do you mean that I don't have enough tattoos in order to become an artist? HAS HE SEEN HIMSELF IN THE MIRROR?”
“Careful Y/N, you’re walking on a thin line” Nick’s tone got darker once again. “You’re projecting.”
“What a big word Nicky” you mocked. Exasperated from your shenanigans, Nick took both of your forearms, forcing you to face him.
“That’s enough!” he yelled. “I don’t really care what you think of him. And you’re a sufficiently functioning adult to sort that shit out yourself.” He started, his piercing blue eyes on yours. “I’m just here for a reality check, because you’re so up your ass that you’re not seeing straight.”
Your eyes widened from the surprise of seeing your friend angry. “Here is what is happening; you ARE projecting. I don’t know what Noah reminds you of, but you are punishing him for something he personally didn’t do.
I’m not saying that what you’ve gone through in the past was fair or you deserved it in any way shape or form” he paused for a moment, his head looking at Noah, still focused on his computer “but you need to stop treating every man you encounter as a threat. I know Noah, and I can assure you that he’s genuinely a good dude.” His arm reached for yours “I can’t have you trust him completely, but, do you trust my judgment at least?”
Your breath hitched in your throat. He saw right through you. Your face darkened from reminiscing past experiences looking away from him. Tears threatened to come out.
After a few seconds you slowly nodded. “Yes Nick, I trust your judgment.”
You felt Nick’s arms enveloping you into a warm hug. Lifting your gaze up, you encountered Noah’s. He was looking at you both, an unreadable expression on his face.
Summary: Hidden Stories is your goal in order to fulfill your lifelong dream of becoming a tattoo artist. What you didn't expect was to find a brother and a receptionist who both annoyed you and made you laugh in equal measure.
A/N: Hi everyone ! We're so excited to finally share with you the first chapter of our fic. Once again, @takeme1st and I wanted to say a massive thank you for the resonance our story got. We're very grateful 💓 We've decided to structure the story alternating between POVs. Reader's is written by Daisy, while Noah's is written by Em. Hope you'll enjoy it! Daisy & Em 💛🖤
Disclaimer: These are fictionalized versions of the band members. Their actions and personalities in this story are entirely products of our imagination and are not intended to represent the real people in any way.
Chapter 1
Sunday - 08:00 AM
The sound of the constant downpour that was cascading from the sky did nothing to muffle the groan that was leaving your lips. Your arm completely lost in your huge bag trying to fish out the keys to the tattoo parlor.
A strong gust of wind made your umbrella slip from your grip, tilting slightly exposing your freshly washed hair to the cold droplets.
“Be damned the day I chose to become a tattoo artist” you muttered under your breath, your mind catapulting to your warm, cozy bed you had to leave at an ungodly hour.
That sentence had been circulating your mind for 3 months, since you’ve been accepted as the apprentice at “Hidden Stories Tattoo Studio.”
The most gruelling 3 months of your life. Weekends, festivities and rest days ceased to exist the moment you signed your papers.
At the moment your main tasks were linked to the maintenance of the parlor: sweeping and scrubbing the floors, setting up and breaking down stations for resident or senior artists, answering phone calls and running errands for everyone.
That was all you did, 8 hours a day, 7 days a week. As tough as it sounded, you found your ways to have little happy moments in between the different chores. One of those was the fact that, most Sundays, artists came in very late, during the first afternoon hours, so that gave you a chance to have the shop to yourself, blast some music on the speakers and get started at your own pace.
The studio greeted you still in the shadows, dim light filtering through the big windows it had. A strong scent of disinfectant hit your nose, mixing with the taste of your hot coffee you just bought from the shop across the street.
“Well, first things first… music” you said to yourself.
The first notes from Arctic Monkeys’s third album Humbug started playing, filling the room. “That’s better” you hummed satisfied with your choice.
Too engrossed in your tasks, your perception of time slipped away from you. You were midway through setting up the very last station for the day when your stomach growled aggressively. Picking up your phone, you saw that it was almost 1 o’clock.
Lunch time.
Now, you’ve been so efficient today, that maybe you could take a few hours off just to go home, eat something warm and hearty, considering the weather, and then go back for the closing shift once the artists finished their work. Moreover, the very first appointment of the day was booked for 3:30, so that gave you plenty of time to just have some rest before picking your shift back up.
Once the last few things on your to do list were finished, you made your way towards the door.
Your hand was just getting to the handle, already tasting the warm soup you decided to prepare, when the heavy metal barged open.
A damp gust of wind sprayed in your face making you stumble, colliding straight into a slim frame.
Nick.
Your friend was soaking wet. His dark hoodie was plastered on his shoulders, his long raven hair stuck to his face, droplets falling onto the clean floor tiles you just spent hours cleaning.
Your expression turned into one that resembled a deer caught in the headlights. Nick’s icy gaze moved between your face, the duffle bag on one hand and the keys you were gripping on the other.
“Where do you think you’re going?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth, dry, stern. His jaw clenched.
“I just finished prep” you stammered, your voice so little compared to his. “The first intake is at 3:30, I was going to grab some…”
Nick’s expression was, for a lack of better word, mocking. “Oh” he scoffed “Silly me, I must’ve written the shop's opening hours wrong then” he pointed at the little sign stuck on the door. “The shop opens at 1. Whether there are clients or not. Whether there are artists or not. You don’t leave the parlor unattended. You should know better, Y/N.”
Hot flushes crept up your neck, your cheeks burned turning into a crimson colour.
He was right, I should've known better. After all, he has been my sponsor for this very spot. I couldn’t let him down, at least not during the very first months and because of a futile reason.
Before you could say anything more, you caught movement behind Nick’s frame. A second boy stepped out of the rain. He was taller than Nick, sporting a beanie on his head. He promptly took it off, shaking his head, like a dog, to try and get rid of the excess water on his long hair.
Well, you thought, there they go, my long hours of work, out the window.
“C’mon, Nick,” the boy chimed in while taking off his black jean jacket “Cut her some slack… Don’t you see she’s about to cry?” His gaze locked in yours, a clear smirk on his face. He clearly had caught the tailend of your lecture from Nick.
The first few seconds were a bit confusing. That face looked familiar, he wasn’t a complete stranger.
It was his tattoos on his hands that gave him away. You rolled your eyes, annoyance starting to bubble into your stomach.
Your mind took you immediately back to that cramped, loud, sweaty living room. The heavy riffs of the guitar were shaking the tiny house, bouncing from wall to wall.
You were pushed up against the wall near one of the windows, a paper cup in your hand filled with a weird concoction Nick made.
You were listening to one of the girls slurring about how much she hated her boyfriend for a reason that you still couldn’t understand. You were there just to get a bit of fresh air since the air was getting heavier and thicker. It must’ve felt like an invitation to talk.
Scanning the room to get a valid excuse to escape, you found Nicholas’ eyes looking right at you.
Thank God! you thought.
“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you….” you screamed in that girl’s ear. She just nodded eagerly, lifting her cup as a sign of recognition.
You didn’t even wait for that interaction to finish before beelining straight to your friend.
“Didn’t you see I was in a very sticky situation?” you shouted hoping to be heard above the music.
Nick smiled amused by your annoyance. “I thought you were having fun” he teased, bringing his mouth near your ear just to communicate better. “Seeing that tortured expression made me realize that you still haven’t suffered through enough party meltdowns to have a sufficient exit strategy.”
You groaned
“And as the self - proclaimed almighty god of parties you should be the one to inflict punishments as you wish?” you shot back.
He laughed loudly, clutching his stomach.
“As your older friend it is my duty to make you experience the best AND the worst of parties” he said half paying attention to you. You saw his gaze flicking between your frame and something behind you. A grin spread on his face.
“There you are,” Nick said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving you the input to turn around “Noah, this is Y/N.”
Noah had never been the party type. There was something about large crowds that made him feel a bit uneasy. He had a lot of friends, sure. And he was sociable enough. But that was in a context in which he was comfortable, rehearsing in someone’s garage, lounging in someone’s house. And not to mention - with people he knew. He couldn’t believe Nick had managed to drag him along to some random house party. He really wasn’t looking forward to being ”the weird guy” in the corner all evening. Noah didn’t know why, but he was no good with strangers. And with drunk strangers? Even worse.
Nick really owes me for this one, Noah thought to himself, standing in a corner of the overcrowded living room with a drink in his hand. He wasn’t too sure what it was, he only knew that it burned like hell going down. Which he took as a good sign, it probably has a high alcohol content.
He took another sip and scanned the room. No one he knew. There were a bunch of people that looked vaguely familiar but no one that he had actually talked to before. Where even was Nick? Noah huffed to himself, already in a bad mood.
Just as he was about to pull his phone out of his pocket he heard a familiar laugh. Following the sound, he ended up in the kitchen. Nick was talking to a girl he had never met before. So why was Nick talking to her like he’d known her forever?
Nick looked up as Noah approached, giving him that signature grin that usually meant that he was about to volunteer Noah for something.
”There you are,” Nick said. ”Noah, this is Y/N.”
You turned around to face him. Cute, he thought. Not in a dramatic, earth-shattering kind of way. But… definitely cute.
Noah extended a hand to you, which you took. He couldn’t avoid noticing how small your hand felt in his. He also noticed that you looked just as overwhelmed as he felt, like you too would like to be anywhere but in the middle of a house party. He got that.
Before Noah had time to say anything, Nick continued.
”She’s the new tattoo apprentice I was telling you about.”
The apprentice? Noah’s eyes flicked back over to you. He instinctively looked for tattoos.
He could find one… two… three? Huh. That was it, as far as he could tell.
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth before his brain had the chance to intervene. Later, he’d blame the alcohol.
“So…” he said. “You’re becoming a tattoo artist with, what, three tattoos?”
You raised an eyebrow at him.
”Damn, maybe I should be the apprentice instead!” he blurted out with a bark of a laugh.
And there it was. The exact moment he watched your smile falter. Fuck. That probably hadn’t come out the way he intended.
“...Dude.” Nick groaned.
“What?”
“You can’t say that.”
Noah frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m standing right here…?” you piped up.
“What? It was an observation!” Noah felt like he had to defend himself, even though he knew that he was more or less digging a deeper and deeper grave.
“That’s a terrible observation,” Nick said. He turned to face you. “Ignore him. Sometimes I think that he thinks that social skills are optional.”
“They’re overrated,” Noah shrugged.
That's when a familiar voice called his name. Noah looked up to see Folio waving to him from the living room, already holding two shot glasses and looking far too excited about whatever terrible idea that had just crossed his mind.
Noah turned back to face you.
“Hold that thought, sunshine…” he said before walking off.
“Who the fuck was that?” you exclaimed, whipping your head towards your friend.
To be fair, Nick looked pretty mortified; his shoulders were slumped, a hand nervously passing through his hair.
He looked at you quizzically for a moment before you clarified “I got that his name was Noah, Nick, I’m not that dumb” your friend snickered.
“Who is he in relation to you… you dumbass”
Without missing a beat he deadpanned “he’s the singer of the band I told you about.”
Oh.
“To be fair, he does give off that energy” you mumbled more to yourself.
“And that’d be?” Nick immediately asked.
“Prick… prick energy” you stated coldly while looking at Noah making his way towards a couple of already rowdy boys.
Noah made his way over to Folio, just to discover that he had brought Davis with him.
“Davis!” Noah exclaimed. “My dude!”
“I see Nick is talking to some girl.” Folio stated.
“So?” Davis asked.
Noah snorted. “So we’re leaving him the fuck alone,” he said.
Davis and Folio exchanged a look before shrugging. Folio then proceeded to grab Noah by the sleeve, pulling him through the living room.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Five minutes later they were sitting on the roof of the garage, legs dangling over the edge with two six-packs and a bottle of vodka between them. Unbeknownst to them they were stranded up there, since Folio had accidentally knocked the ladder down without noticing.
“Where did you find a ladder, anyway? Noah asked.
Folio grinned.
“Borrowed it.”
“This is incredibly stupid,” Noah muttered, taking another sip straight from the bottle.
“Yeah,” Davis agreed. “Pretty cool though.”
“And we're definitely gonna get caught,” added Noah.
“Only if we fall first,” Folio said, reaching for the bottle that Noah was holding.
Below them, house music spilled out through the open windows while people spilled in and out of the backyard. The evening air was warm around them as the sun dipped lower over an endless stretch of rooftops, painting the suburb in soft golden hues. For a while, none of them said anything.
“Do you ever think about it?” Folio asked eventually.
“About what?”
“The band.”
Noah looked out over the neighborhood.
“All the time.”
“You think we’re gonna make it?”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Noah's mouth. He took a sip from the bottle that Davis held out to him.
“We have to.”
Davis laughed. “That’s not really an answer.”
“No,” Noah shrugged. “It isn’t”.
Another silence settled between them.
“Imagine…” Folio said, gesturing vaguely towards the horizon. “A couple of years from now…”
“We’re touring,” Noah stated matter-of-factly.
“We’re broke.”
“Yeah… but we’re broke in Europe.”
“You guys are just gonna leave me here to go to Europe?” Davis asked.
“No way!” Folio exclaimed. “We’re gonna need a merch guy.”
“I’d sleep on venue floors, if that’s what it takes. We have to make it. We just… we have to,” Noah said.
For a while, they just sat there. The bottle of vodka got passed around between beers. The music from the party was the only sound, apart from the occasional burst of laughter from the party below. None of them really felt a need to fill the silence as they watched the sun set. It wasn’t awkward. Just… comfortable.
Folio lay back against the warm shingles of the roof, tucking both hands behind his head. Davis absentmindedly peeled the label of the bottle of vodka. Noah was contemplating the neighborhood that stretched out beneath him, rows of quiet houses glowing in the last light of the day. He took a sip of his beer, and then another. You suddenly popped into his head, the way your smile had vanished after his stupid comment.
“I think I screwed that up,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Huh?”
“The girl Nick was talking to. The new tattoo apprentice.”
“How?” Davis asked.
“I said she didn’t have enough tattoos to go into tattooing…”
“Yikes.” Folio whistled.
“...And that maybe I should instead.”
Davis gave him a look.
“I wasn’t even trying to be a dick.”
Folio dunked Noah in the back. “You just come that way naturally.”
They all laughed at that.
“I should probably apologise."
“Yeah…” Davis sighed. “You probably won’t though.”
“I will! I totally will… after another drink.”
After a while, and many drinks later, they decided to climb down. Noah was set on giving you an apology. They all got up, albeit a bit clumsier than usual, and Folio peered over the edge.
“Uh…”
“What?”
“The ladder”.
“What about it?” Davis asked.
“It’s not there anymore,” Folio stated.
There was a silence before all three of them leaned forward. Sure enough… no ladder. There was another silence before they burst out laughing. They stood hunched over, hands over their stomachs, tears streaming down their faces from laughing so hard.
“Oh we’re so screwed,” Davis chuckled.
Noah walked to the edge, looked down, and shrugged.
“I can make that,” he stated.
Folio blinked. “...No.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re also drunk.”
“I’m tall.”
“Two completely unrelated facts.”
“Hm… no,” Noah said. “They’re very much working together.”
Before either Folio or Davis could stop him, Noah had lowered himself over the edge of the rooftop, hanging with straight arms for a second before letting go. To his own surprise, he landed on both feet. For approximately half a second. Then his feet slipped out from under him.
“Shit—”
Noah hit the ground on his ass with a thud. There was a moment of silence before an explosion of laughter erupted above him. Folio was doubled over, clutching his knees for support. Davis had one hand over his face, laughing so hard he almost followed Noah down the roof. Noah looked up at them, still sitting on the ground.
“You guys suck, you know that?”
Neither of them could get a word out. Noah got up and brushed the dirt off his jeans and looked around. He spotted the ladder laying halfway over a bush.
“You know what?” Noah said. “Figure it out yourselves.”
“Noah!” Folio called out between hits of laughter. “Please!”
Noah took a few steps over to the ladder. He picked it up and walked away, leaving Folio and Davis stranded.
“Asshole!” Davis yelled.
Noah didn't even look back, he just raised a hand over his shoulder and gave both of them the finger before disappearing around the corner.
The kitchen had somehow gotten even louder.
People squeezed past each other with half-empty cups in their hands, someone was arguing over the music, another guy was trying, and failing, to flip a bottle onto the counter.
Noah spotted you leaning against the kitchen counter, still holding a bottle of cider. Nick must’ve disappeared somewhere because he was nowhere to be seen.
There she is. Okay. Just apologize. You’ve done it before, Noah. It’s not that hard.
He took a breath and walked over.
“Hey.”
You looked up. You looked at him with an expression somewhere between confusion and mild disappointment.
“Oh.”
Not exactly an enthusiastic response. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“So…”
There was an awkward silence.
“I’m pretty sure I got off on the wrong foot earlier.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“You think?”
“…Yeah.”
There was another awkward silence. You looked anywhere but at him. Noah swayed a little on the spot. Shit, he might actually be too drunk. Now say you’re sorry Noah. He opened his mouth and… his eyes drifted to the bottle in your hand.
“…You’re still drinking cider?”
You glanced down at the bottle in your hand.
“I got another one.”
“…Right.”
Another awkward silence. His brain was screaming at him to apologize. Alas, Noah’s mouth had other plans.
“You know…”
He held up the shot glass in his hand.
“I could fix that.”
“…Fix what?”
“The cider situation.”
“There isn’t a cider situation.”
“There is very much a cider situation.”
You raised an eyebrow, staring at him for a long second. Not necessarily annoyed, not amused. Just… unimpressed.
“…Are you asking me to take a shot?” you asked.
“I think I am.”
You stared at him for a second.
“I thought you were about to apologize.”
Noah didn’t quite know what to say.
“I was.”
“And then?”
“…I got distracted.”
“…By my cider?”
“…Maybe.”
There was another silence in which you just looked at him and he looked at you. Noah smiled at you, really trying to convey some kind of apology with his eyes. Because of the ridiculous amount of alcohol in his system however, this wasn’t a success.
“You really don’t want one?” Noah asked, holding up the shot glass.
You shook your head, amused despite yourself.
“I’m good.”
“C’mon.”
“No.”
“Just one.”
“I said no.”
He let out the most dramatic sigh before throwing an arm loosely around your shoulders.
“Pleeeeease.”
You looked up at him. His bottom lip protruded a bit, his brown eyes pleading.
“…Are you pouting?”
“I’m negotiating.”
“This is not negotiating.”
“It absolutely is.”
“Noah.”
“What?”
“You’ve known me for, like, twenty minutes.”
“So?”
“So why are you acting like we’re best friends?”
He blinked.
“…Because I want you to take a shot with me?”
“You are unbelievable,” you said as you rolled your eyes.
“I’ve been told,” Noah said, pouring both of you a shot. ”So now darling, please.” He handed you one of the glasses. ”Take a shot with me.”
From somewhere across the room Nick looked over, immediately spotting Noah with his arm around you.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Folio, who had managed to get down from the roof with Nick’s help, followed his gaze.
“…Is he cuddling the apprentice?”
“I think he’s trying to apologize.”
“By annoying her?”
Nick sighed.
“That’s exactly what he’s doing.”
“Did they ever tell you that you’re a horrible listener, also?” You could smell alcohol reeking through his breath.
“Actually darling” he gripped your shoulder even more “they said that I am a fucking good listener.” Using you as a sort of support, he swished his arm as indicating the whole room, resulting in dropping every last ounce of the liquid on the floor.
Annoyance was too bland of a word to describe what was boiling in your stomach. Anger shot up through your stomach invading your senses. You quite literally were seeing red.
“I think that’s enough socializing for the night” you yelled, abruptly shaking off his arm, causing Noah to slightly lose his balance.
Without staying there a second more, you took off towards the exit, not even bothering saying goodbye to Nick.
Your first impression was right. He was an absolute prick.
You convince yourself that sleeping with Robby was just a one-time relapse, and return to the co-parenting routine you’ve carefully built. But everything unravels when you’re dragged into a family vacation at a resort in Mexico. One full week of trying to survive Robby’s relentless attempts to win you back.
warnings/tags: smut, minors DNI, porn with plot (lots of plot), age gap (but readers age isn’t disclosed), jealous!robby, co-parenting, GirlDad!Robby, this is long as fuck so read it with time, they’re still down bad for each other, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, handjob, blowjob, fingering, creampie
You remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. The cold porcelain of the toilet seat under your thighs. The pregnancy test stick clutched in your trembling fingers while you tried to aim. The uncertainty that made every sound echo louder in your tiny studio apartment, the best place a med student could afford. The steady drip-drip-drip from the leaky faucet. The nervous pacing of Robby’s footsteps just behind the thin wooden door.
“You good in there?” he asked, you could picture him leaning in, pressing his ear against the wood like he could somehow hear your thoughts.
You quickly wiped away the silent tears that had been streaming down your cheeks. “Yeah…” Your voice came out shaky and small. “Yeah. I’m done.”
You wiped, flushed the toilet, and stood up on unsteady legs, pulling your pants back on. Carefully, you set the cup and the pregnancy test on the edge of the sink before washing your hands.
“Can I come in?” Robby asked from the other side. Guilt was already eating him alive. This was his fault. He should have been the one guiding you, teaching you how to become a great doctor. Instead, he had jeopardized everything, your education, your career, your future. Now, because of him, you were taking a pregnancy test in a cramped bathroom, wondering what the hell you were going to do with your life if two pink lines appeared.
You didn’t answer with words. You simply walked to the door, opened it, and stepped aside so he could enter. “It says three to five minutes,” you murmured, nodding toward the test resting on the sink.
“How—” Robby cleared his throat when his voice threatened to crack. “How are you feeling?”
“Scared?” The word came out like a question. Truthfully, you didn’t even know if “scared” was the right word. What was the right word for finding yourself in a situation you’d never wanted, knowing it was your own damn fault? You should have been more careful. You should have said yes the first time he asked about wearing a condom. You should have told him to pull out instead of moaning “fill me up, Robby” every single time like you had lost all sense.
You knew the odds. You knew the risks. But when he was inside you, none of that had mattered. And now destiny was laughing in your face. You had no plan. If you were pregnant… what then? Goodbye to med school. Goodbye to your dream of graduating and matching into emergency medicine. You’d probably have to move back in with your parents and spend your days raising a child instead of becoming a doctor. And goodbye to Robby, because why would a man like him want to stay tied to the med student he’d accidentally gotten pregnant and the baby he never asked for?
Fresh tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, soaking your cheeks instantly. You tried to stay quiet, but the sobs broke free anyway.
“Hey, hey, hey… come here.” Robby closed the distance in one step. The heat of his body wrapped around you like a shield. He slid one strong arm around your waist, anchoring you against his solid frame, and the other hand cradled the back of your head. “It’s perfectly normal to be scared. But you’ve got me. You’re not alone in this.”
“What are we—” Another sob escaped, muffled against his shoulder. “What am I gonna do, Robby? What am I supposed to do?”
“Whatever feels right,” he whispered against your hair, pressing a gentle kiss there. “You’re supposed to do whatever you want to do. You have all the choices.”
“But which one is the right one?” You pressed harder into him, as if you could disappear into his chest. “Which one won’t make you hate me?”
“Jesus— Look at me.” He gently cupped your face with both hands, lifting it from his chest so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His own were red and watery. “Let me say this once, and I need you to hear me. I could never hate you. None of this is your fault. It’s no one’s fault… this just happens, okay? If the test is positive, then… it’s not the end of the world. We’ve got options. We have time to think about it.”
“Then why does it feel like it is the end of the world?” You tried to hide your face again in the broad warmth of his chest, where your tears had already left a dark patch on his shirt. He wouldn’t let you. He kept your face cradled between his palms, one thumb softly stroking your cheek as he wiped away another tear.
“Why does it feel like no matter what I choose, you’ll end up resenting me for it?”
“I won’t,” he assured you again, his voice steady even though you could feel how hard he was trying. “You have to think about what you want. Nothing is more important than that. I’ll be here for whatever you decide.”
“What if I don’t want to keep it?” The words tumbled out. “Wouldn’t you feel like… like I took something away from you? Wouldn’t you think I’m selfish?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose, his warm lips making you shiver. Then your cheek, tasting your tears. Then your lips, reassuringly. “If the test is positive and you choose to terminate 6he pregnancy, I wouldn’t think that makes you selfish. I wouldn’t think you’re a bad person or that you’re stealing something from me. I’d think you’re strong. I’d think you’re being brave. And I’d be right there with you.”
The calmness in his voice steadied you a little. You could tell he was terrified, probably having a panic attack on the inside, but he was pouring every ounce of strength into not showing it. He wanted to be the rock you could lean on, the one who had answer, who knew what to do, who’d be there to support you no matter what.
“Is that what you’d want?” he murmured against your lips. “An abortion?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered, so softly he might not have heard if he weren’t so close. “But… maybe it’s the only right choice. What would I even do with a baby? I’d have to drop out of med school… I’d fall so far behind. Raising a baby… I don’t know when I could even go back.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that, you know?” he said gently. “A lot of women finish their studies while pregnant. They work while being moms too. Think of Dr. Shamsi, she finished her residency while—”
You knew he meant well, but right now the last thing you needed was a pep talk about strong women. “Yeah, well, I’m not Dr. Shamsi, Robby,” you cut in, the words coming out harsher than you intended. “I don’t think I can do it. And I can’t… I can’t put that weight on you. That burden. A child, Robby. I’d feel so guilty knowing I trapped you.”
An incredulous laugh escaped him. He pulled back just enough to really look at you. “Trap me? Jesus fuck… do you even hear yourself? When have I ever made you feel like you’d be trapping me?”
His tone edged toward anger, which only made your own flare up. “You didn’t ask for this! You’d be stuck with a child you never even wanted just because I didn’t want to get rid of it!” You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore and stared at the floor instead.
“A child…” He let out a slow breath. “A child doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” The words he’d been too afraid to even think until now finally slipped out. “Yeah, it would be difficult. Yeah, it would be a fucking challenge. I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared. But I don’t think a baby would be the worst thing to ever happen. Not by far.”
He’d be lying if he said he had never dreamed of having a child, of becoming a father. In his mid-twenties, he had pictured it so differently. Finding the love of his life, getting married, waiting a year or two before having their first baby, then another one soon after. A proper family. But life had gotten in the way, long hours in the ED, the weight of responsibility, his own fears and insecurities reshaping the entire trajectory of his existence. Time slipped through his fingers, and before he knew it, the dream had been pushed further and further into the distance. Definitely not like this, a baby at forty-nine with the fourth-year med student he’d been sleeping with in a messy situationship for only a few months… that was never part of the plan. And yet, as that pregnancy test sat on the edge of the sink, the possibility grew heavier, more real. Maybe this was how it was meant to happen. Maybe the universe had finally caught up with him. Maybe it was time to stop running, time to stop hiding, and finally commit to something bigger than work. Something that actually mattered. Something that’d change his life and give it a new meaning, a new purpose.
“You’re saying you’d want it?” you asked, surprise flashing in your eyes as you finally looked up at him. “If I were pregnant… you’d want the baby?”
“I’m saying I want you to do what you want. But yeah… if you chose to keep it, then I’d want it too. I’m in, 100%.” Behind the fear in his voice, you heard absolute certainty.
“And how would that even look?” you asked quietly. “How would we do it?”
“If we’re doing it, we do it right. Together.” He took your hands in his, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. “You could move in with me. Once the baby’s born, we’d arrange our shifts so one of us is always with them. We’d get a sitter to help us so you can still have time to do your residency. You have me. You’ll have me every step of the way.”
“Promise?” you whispered.
“Promise.”
Silence stretched between you, as if the rest of the world had stopped spinning. In that tiny bathroom, it was just the two of you, holding each other’s hands with the promise of facing whatever came next together.
“I think it’s been over five minutes,” Robby said finally, glancing toward the sink. “Want to check?”
You nodded, and Robby released one of your hands, picked up the test, and held it between you without looking at the result yet. “Together?” he asked.
You swallowed. “Together.”
The imposing voice of Dana cut through the fog in your mind. “Earth to you… hello?”
You blinked, startled, and reluctantly dragged your eyes away from the computer screen where you’d been pretending to chart for the last ten minutes. Dana was leaning against the nurses’ station counter with one hip, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Are you even listening to me right now? Because I’ve been talking to myself for five minutes. What’s up with you? You look like you didn’t close an eye last night.”
You forced a small, nervous laugh and quickly looked back down at the computer, hoping the glow of the screen would hide the exhaustion on your face. “Sorry… I slept okay,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered. You weren’t fooling anyone, least of all Dana. You could feel her eyes studying you, taking in the faint shadows under your eyes, the slight slump of your shoulders, and the way you kept subtly shifting in your chair. Because no matter how hard you tried to focus on work, your body was still painfully aware of last night. The ghost of Robby’s thrusts still lingered between your thighs, a delicious ache that refused to fade even twelve hours later.
Every time you moved, you were reminded of how hard he had taken you, how thoroughly he had ruined you. Your muscles were sore in the best and most inconvenient way possible. You crossed your legs under the desk, trying to ignore the throb that pulsed through you at the memory. The last thing you needed was Dana figuring out why you were so distracted. Unfortunately, Dana had the observational skills. She narrowed her eyes even further, tilting her head as she continued to stare at you. “Yeah… sure you did.”
Dana drifted his gaze past your shoulder down the corridor. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, lifting her brows a fraction and her mouth twitching like she’d tasted something sour. You followed her line of sight to Robby, striding toward trauma two, wearing his navy scrubs and cargo pants. There was a loose, easy roll to his shoulders, a confidence in his steps that screamed satisfaction. The corners of his mouth were curved in a half-smile that was the unmistakable “I got laid and it was fucking amazing” look.
Dana let out a dry huff of laughter, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jesus. I hate when he walks around with that ‘I got laid and it was amazing’ face. It’s obnoxious as hell. Makes the rest of us feel like we’re doing it wrong.”
You kept your face carefully neutral, tapping your fingers against the keyboard, but without writing anything. “Maybe he’s just in a good mood.”
“Oh, please, don’t give me that. You know that face, it’s always the same with that man.” Dana tilted her head, studying him as he paused to talk with Victoria, that satisfied smile lingering a beat too long. She narrowed her eyes, thinking hard for a second, then her head snapped back toward you when realization hit him. “Wait a minute… That face. That exact face is too familiar. It’s not just his regular ‘I got some’ look. That’s the same damn face he used to wear back when you two were sneaking around four years ago. And I haven’t seen it on him once since you two called it quits. Not a single time.”
Heat flooded your cheeks instantly. You felt cornered, exposed, like a deer caught in headlights. Dana ran this place, nothing escaped her eyes. Trying to lie to her was usually pointless, she could smell bullshit from miles away. “I– I really need to finish these charts,” you stammered. “I promised Hannah I’d try to get home early so we could—” The excuse died on your tongue, it sounded pathetic even to your own ears.
She looked at you like she’d already decided you were guilty. “Please tell me you didn’t do it.”
“Didn’t do what?”
She snorted. “You’re a terrible liar. Always have been.”
You exhaled through your nose, dropping your shoulders in defeat. You glanced around the nurse station. It was quiet, no one close enough to overhear, then leaned in just a fraction.“Okay,” you muttered. “It was one time. One weak moment. I’m not doing it again.”
Dana didn’t t look surprised, just disappointed in the resigned way of someone who’s watched this film before and knew how it ended . “You’re so stupid,” she said, almost fondly. “Letting that mess of a man back in again.”
“I know.” You rubbed a hand over your face, wishing you could teleport anywhere but here. “I know. I’m just… so weak when it comes to him. He’s got this way of looking at me, like I’m the only thing in the room that matters, and the way he touches me…” You trailed off. “God, Dana, you don’t know how good it is. How he remembers every single—”
She held up a hand with the palm out. “Stop. Right there. I do not need the details. I’ve worked with that man for the last 20 years of my life, and I still got to work with him for the next eight hours. Spare me the play-by-play.”
“Sorry. It’s just… it felt like coming home, you know? And then this morning reality hit like a truck. And I realized I fucked up last night.”
Dana studied you for a long beat, and her expression softened just a fraction, enough to show the concern underneath.“Honey,” she said quietly, “you’re not weak. You’re human. And that man has always known exactly which buttons to push with you. But you’ve built something solid these last five years. Don’t throw that away because the sex is good.”
You nodded, swallowing hard. “I told him it was a one-time thing. A relapse. I’m not doing it again. I swear.”
Dana arched her eyebrow high. “You swear.”
“Yeah.” You met her eyes even if your stomach twisted. You were embarrassed to let anyone know about your poor life choices, but if you could trust anyone, that was Dana, one of the only people who’d been here since the start of your story with him. “Last night was… it was stupid. It won’t happen again.”
She studied you for a long beat, then she pushed off the counter, stepping closer and dropping her voice to that tone she used when she’s done playing nice.“You'd better not. Go out. Meet someone. Anyone whose last name isn’t Robinavitch. Someone who can actually commit to a relationship.”
You looked down at your hands, still faintly wrinkled from too much hand sanitizer, a nervous habit you’d gotten out of him. “It’s not that easy.”
“It’s not supposed to be easy,” she countered. “But it’s supposed to be possible. Find a guy who doesn’t bolt after a month because he ‘feels trapped’ and ‘needs space.’ Someone who doesn’t look at commitment like it’s an impossible mission. Someone who stays.”
The words sting because they’re true. Robby never lied about it, he’d told you early on he wasn’t built for the long haul, that relationships felt like another thing he’d inevitably fuck up. And when Hannah came along, when the exhaustion and the shifts and the fear piled up, he didn’t fight to keep you together. He just… drifted. Back to separate houses, separate beds, separate lives.
“Hon, you know Robby was not made for a relationship. He’s a great dad, nobody’s arguing that. The man would walk through fire for that little girl. But you? He loves you in the way he knows how: sporadically. And that’s never gonna change. Keep it that way. Keep him in the dad column. Don’t let him back into the partner one.”
You rubbed your temples, the ache from last night’s lack of real sleep settling in behind your eyes. “I know. I do. It’s just… when he’s there, when he’s touching me, talking to me like I’m still his… it’s like the last five years never happened. Like we could pick up where we left off.”
“That’s the trap,” Dana said quietly. “It feels like home because it used to be. But homes can be haunted too.”
In the days that followed, you did everything you could to avoid Robby. At work, you kept your distance, volunteering for procedures on the opposite side of the ED whenever possible and burying yourself in charts or patient updates the moment you felt his presence nearby. Because every single time your eyes met his, even for a brief second, your body betrayed you.
You remembered the crushing weight of him on top of you that night, the way he’d fucked you into the mattress like the world was ending. You remembered how perfectly your bodies still moved together, how easily he could pull those broken sounds from your throat. Years had passed, but the fire between you hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it was burning brighter and hotter than ever, threatening to consume every boundary you had built.
Thankfully, Robby seemed to sense your need for space and didn’t push. He gave you room to breathe at the hospital, only speaking to you when a case genuinely required collaboration. His tone stayed strictly professional, his touches nonexistent. He still called every evening like clockwork to talk to Hannah, but with you he remained carefully polite, never lingering, never teasing, never crossing the lines you had drawn.
You should have been relieved. He was finally respecting your wishes, he was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and yet… on nights like this, when Hannah was at his place for her half of the week, the silence in your house felt suffocating. The emptiness pressed in from every corner. No little footsteps pattering down the hallway, no giggles echoing from the living room. Just you, alone in the quiet, with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company. And your mind refused to shut off, It buzzed loudly, relentlessly, replaying every moment of that night in vivid detail, the heat of Robby’s skin, the burn of his beard against your neck, the groan in your ear when he came undone inside you.
You kept hearing his promises afterward: that he was a changed man, that this time he wanted you for real. Not out of duty because he’d gotten you pregnant. Not because he felt trapped by responsibility. But because he truly wanted to be with you, because he loved you. God, you wanted to believe him so badly. There were moments, weak and dangerous moments when you wished you could be reckless enough to fall for every word that came out of his mouth. To let yourself be dumb and hopeful and blind, just like you were five years ago.
Maybe you would have risked it if you were the only one who would get hurt when everything inevitably fell apart. You could survive a broken heart, you’d done it before. But Hannah couldn’t, she was innocent in all of this. She didn’t deserve to watch her parents try and fail again, to feel the instability, the confusion, the heartbreak of seeing her mother and father almost become a family, only for it to crumble. You refused to gamble with your daughter’s emotional safety just because you still craved the man who once broke your heart.
The knock on the door came right on time, just as the late afternoon sun was starting to slant through the living room windows. You were still in your scrubs, hair thrown up in a messy bun, when you opened the door to find Robby standing there with Hannah perched on his hip, her little pink backpack slung over his shoulder, making him look both silly and endearing at the same time, and her head resting sleepily against his chest.
“Hey,” Robby said softly. “We’re here.”
Hannah’s face lit up the second she saw you. “Mommy!” She reached both arms out, already wiggling to get to you. Robby shifted her gently into your arms, brushing his hand against your side in the process. The brief contact sent an unwelcome spark through you that you immediately tried to ignore.
“Hi, baby girl,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her soft brown hair, she smelled like the strawberry shampoo Robby always used on her. “Did you have a good time with Daddy?”
“We had a great time,” Robby answered for her, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He set her little backpack down by the couch and rubbed the back of his neck, looking unusually hesitant.
“Listen… I’ve been thinking about something.”
You raised an eyebrow, bouncing Hannah lightly on your hip as she played with the collar of your top. “That sounds ominous.”
He let out a small laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Not ominous. Just… I’m thinking of taking some days off work. Vacation days.” Your surprise must have shown on your face because Robby quickly continued. “I’ve been thinking about taking her somewhere warm. She’s been talking about the beach nonstop lately. There’s this resort in Mexico I’ve been looking at, very kid-friendly, right on the beach. Thought it might be nice for her to run around in the sand and actually see the ocean.”
Robby had never been one to take vacations. For most of his life, work had consumed him completely. He was drowning in the ED, the never-ending stream of patients, the constant pressure of being the one everyone relied on. There was always something more important, and a quiet voice in the back of his head constantly whispered that everything would crumble if he wasn’t there to hold it all together. He had never felt the pull to travel, no place ever seemed worth leaving the hospital for. Nothing could impress him or hold his attention long enough to make him want to step away. His entire identity had been tied to the job for so long that the idea of doing anything else felt foreign, almost selfish.
That was before Hannah arrived, she changed everything. From the moment she came into his life, Hannah gave him something he had never truly had before, and that was real purpose. She became the reason he woke up every single day determined to be better, to be the kind of father she deserved. The person who had to stay strong and healthy because she depended on him for everything, from teaching her how to tie her shoes, to how to be kind, how to stand up for herself.
But Hannah had given him more than just purpose. She had awakened in him a brand-new desire to actually live. For the first time in years, his world expanded beyondwork. He wanted to do things, he wanted to see things, and more than anything, he wanted to experience them with her. His life no longer felt like it should revolve solely around the ED, he craved as much free time as he could carve out so he could share it with his daughter, watching her discover the world. He refused to miss even a single moment of her childhood while she was still small and everything felt unique to her. Hannah had unknowingly pulled him out of the endless cycle of work and survival.
And that was how the trips began. Beach days where Hannah squealed at the waves and collected seashells in her bucket. Lazy summer afternoons fishing at a lake. Winter weekends at a cabin resort in the mountains, where they built snowmen in the backyard and drank hot chocolate by the fire. Whatever Hannah wanted to do, Robby made it happen.
You nodded slowly, processing the information. You dropped Hannah off carefully on the floor, and she immediately walked to her bedroom, mumbling something about saying hello to her stuffed animals. “Mexico… That sounds really nice for her. When were you thinking?”
“Probably in a couple of weeks, if I can get the time approved. I’d take about a week.” He paused, watching your expression carefully. “Are you okay with that? With me taking her?”
“Yeah,” you said without hesitation. “Of course I’m okay with it. She’ll love it. Just make sure you send me all the flight information and the hotel details once you have them. I want to know exactly where she’ll be and how to reach you.”
“Already planning on it,” he assured you. “I’ll send everything as soon as it’s booked.” A comfortable silence settled for a moment. Then Robby shifted his weight and looked at you again, something vulnerable flickering behind his eyes. “Actually… I wanted to ask you something else.” He rubbed the back of his neck again, a tell you knew too well. “Would you want to come with us?”
You blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”
“I’d pay for everything,” he added quickly. “Your flight, your room. You don’t have to worry about that. You’ve been working insane hours lately with residency. It might be good for you to get away for a few days, too. Relax. Sleep in.”
The offer hung in the air between you, and for one brief second, you let yourself imagine it. You pictured the three of you on a beach in Mexico. Hannah running barefoot through the warm sand, her hair messy from the ocean breeze, laughing with pure joy every time a wave came close enough to tickle her toes. You saw yourself and Robby sitting nearby on lounge chairs, drinking margaritas while the sun kissed your skin. The sound of the waves rolling onto the shore, lulling you into a nap you hadn’t allowed yourself in years.
After surviving on less than six hours a night for so long, the mere idea of lying back on a lounge chair and actually resting felt almost sinful. Vacations had always been a luxury you couldn’t afford. Not with the mountain of student loans, the demands of your residency, and the constant juggle of motherhood. The thought of taking time off just to relax had felt selfish, unrealistic, and completely out of reach. And now Robby was offering it all on a silver platter.
You quickly shoved the beautiful images away before they could take root and make you weak. Because that was the problem with Robby’s offer, it wasn’t just a vacation. It was a week of playing house, of blurred lines, and of watching him be the devoted father he had become, while your stupid heart remembered exactly how good things used to feel when the three of you were almost a real family.
“Robby…” You let out a slow breath. “Thank you. Really. That’s incredibly generous. But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He furrowed his brow slightly. “Why not?”
“Because going on a vacation like that, the three of us, it would be confusing. For her, especially. If we’re sharing space like a family for a whole week, she might start getting ideas about us getting back together. I don’t want to give her false hope. And it’d be confusing for us two, we need to keep our distance after… You know what.”
Robby’s jaw tightened for a moment, but his voice stayed calm. “We can get separate rooms. Hell, we don’t even have to hang out the whole time if you don’t want to. You could do your own thing, be at a different pool, get spa treatments, whatever. I’m not asking you to pretend we’re a couple. I just… I want to do this for you. You deserve a break too.”
You shook your head, even as a small, traitorous part of you ached at how sincere he sounded. “No, Robby. Thank you, but no. It’s sweet of you to offer, but it’s too complicated. We’ve worked really hard to keep things stable and clear for Hannah. Mixing a family vacation into that… it blurs too many lines. I appreciate it, I really do. But I think it’s better if it’s just the two of you.”
He watched you for a long moment, something like disappointment passing across his face, a quiet frustration he tried so hard to hide. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Message received. I’ll just take her, then. But the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”
You gave him a grateful smile, even though your chest felt tight from how much you wanted to say yes, because of how much you wished that maybe in another life, Robby and you could be those parents sunbathing in Mexico with their kid. “I won’t. But thank you.”
He nodded once, lingering for another few seconds like he wanted to say more, but decided that by pushing too hard to get close to you again, he’d only end up pushing you away. “I’ll text you the details as soon as everything’s booked.”
“Sounds good.”
Before heading toward the door, Robby paused. He gave you one last long look, the kind that always managed to slip past every defense you’d carefully built over the years. In that single glance, you were flooded with memories you spent most days trying desperately not to dwell on. Memories from five years ago, back when everything still felt possible. Back when you still believed, with naive, foolish hope, that the two of you could somehow make it work.
And then there were the much more dangerous memories from just two weeks ago, the night where, for a few stolen hours, it felt like the rest of the world had simply stopped existing. His hands on your body like he still owned every inch of it, the way he’d whispered your name against your skin, the overwhelming feeling that you had teleported back in time, back to when it was just the two of you. For those few hours, you had let yourself believe again. You had let yourself imagine that maybe, just maybe, there could still be a “we” in your future.
A couple of days later, you heard the knock of the door echo through the house just as you were finishing packing Hannah’s favorite stuffed capybara into her little backpack. You opened the door to find Robby standing on the porch. Hannah immediately squealed at the sight of him.
“Daddy!” She bolted forward, launching herself into his arms. Robby caught her with ease, laughing as he lifted her high and spun her once before settling her on his hip. “Hey, angel,” he said, pressing a loud kiss to her cheek. “You ready for Daddy’s house?”
You stepped aside to let them both in, arms crossed loosely over your chest as you watched the usual handoff routine unfold. Hannah was buzzing with energy, clutching Robby’s shirt with her little hands. “Daddy, Daddy! Are we really going to the beach soon?” she asked with her eyes wide, full of pure excitement. “With the ocean and the sand?”
Robby grinned, the kind of soft and genuine smile he only ever wore for her. “We sure are, baby girl. I already picked out a really nice hotel. It’s right on the beach. Want me to show you the pictures later when we get home?”
“Yes!” Hannah bounced in his arms, practically vibrating. “Does it have a pool? And ice cream? And can I get a new swimsuit to wear?”
“It has a huge pool, and I’m pretty sure they have all the ice cream you can eat,” Robby answered patiently. He glanced over at you while still holding her. “I booked one of the family suites with a big balcony overlooking the ocean. You’re gonna love it, Han.”
Hannah gasped dramatically, her little mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. “Mommy, did you hear? Daddy got a hotel with a balcony! For the ocean!”
You couldn’t help but smile at her pure joy, even as a knot started forming in your stomach. “I heard, sweetheart. Sounds amazing.”
Robby set Hannah down so she could run to grab her stuffed animal from the couch. The moment she was out of earshot, he lowered his voice slightly. “I meant what I said the other day. The offer’s still open if—”
Before he could finish, Hannah came racing back, clutching her capybara tightly. “Daddy, can Mommy come with us to the beach? Please?”
Robby didn’t miss a beat. He looked straight at his daughter with an innocent expression that you knew was anything but. “You know what, Han? I was actually thinking about inviting Mommy too. What do you think? Would you like Mommy to come on the trip with us?”
Hannah’s entire face lit up like the Fourth of July. She spun toward you so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. “Mommy! You have to come! Please please please! We can build sandcastles together and swim and eat ice cream and watch the sunset and— and everything!”
You shot Robby a deadly look over Hannah’s head, the kind that promised a painful retribution the moment you two were alone. He simply raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He was weaponizing the one person he knew you could never say no to. Hannah. She had always been your biggest weakness, your softest spot, and Robby knew it better than anyone. Those big, warm brown eyes were lethal. One pleading look from her, and your resolve crumbled like sand.
And right now, she was using every ounce of that power, blinking up at you with hope while clutching your hand like her entire happiness depended on your answer. It was unfair, completely unfair. Robby wasn’t just standing by and letting her beg, he was actively encouraging it, using your daughter as the ultimate emotional leverage. He knew you could resist him, he knew you could fight your own feelings, your own desires, your own stupid heart. But Hannah? Saying no to her when she looked at you like that felt almost cruel. And the worst part? He wasn’t even trying to hide how satisfied he was with himself, that tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth said everything. He was enjoying this far too much.
“Hannah, baby…” You crouched down to her level, gently brushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “Mommy would love to, but I’m super busy with work right now. I have so many shifts and—”
Robby’s voice cut in smoothly from behind her. “Actually, you have a bunch of vacation days saved up. I checked it yesterday.”
You straightened up slowly, narrowing your eyes at him, silently warning him to stop this nonsense before it went too far. “Robby.”
He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Just stating facts. You shouldn’t lie to your daughter, you know?”
Hannah grabbed your hand with both of hers, swinging it dramatically. “Mommy, pleeease? Pretty, pretty please!” You opened your mouth to respond, but Hannah was already in full pleading mode, her big puppy-brown eyes, exactly like Robby’s, staring up at you with devastating effectiveness.
“I really can’t afford it right now, sweetheart,” you tried again. “Plane tickets and hotels are expensive, and Mommy—”
“If Mommy can’t pay,” Robby interrupted you. “Then Daddy will pay. I’ve got it covered. Flights, resort, activities, all of it. You wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing.”
Hannah tugged harder on your hand, bouncing on her toes. “See? Daddy’s paying! So you can come! Please, Mommy? I want all of us together. Pretty pleeeeease.”
You felt cornered, trying to come up with more excuses, but as you reached inside your head, you couldn’t think of any. Robby stood there looking far too pleased with himself, while your daughter continued her relentless assault with those lethal eyes and endless enthusiasm.
“Hannah…” you started, searching desperately for another excuse.
“But Mommy,” she whined, pressing her face against your leg, “I’ll miss you so much if you stay here.”
Robby, the absolute traitor, decided to join forces. “She’s got a point,” he said casually, though his eyes were anything but casual when they met yours. “It wouldn’t be the same without you. And like I said before, I can get us separate rooms. You can do your own thing the whole time if you want. But it would mean a lot to her… and to me.”
The “and to me” was spoken so quietly you almost missed it. You looked between the two of them, your daughter with her hopeful, shining eyes and her father, the man you still stupidly loved, with that steady and patient gaze that had always been able to wear you down. The silence stretched. Hannah’s lower lip started to tremble just slightly, the ultimate weapon in her arsenal.
With a long, defeated sigh, you finally gave in. “…Fine,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “I’ll go too.”
Hannah let out an ear-piercing squeal of pure delight and threw herself at your legs, hugging them tightly. “Yay! Mommy’s coming! We’re all going to the beach together!”
Robby’s smile was slow and satisfied, though he tried to keep it modest. “That’s great,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Really great.”
You pointed a finger at him over Hannah’s head. “You’re going to pay for this later, Robinavitch.”
His only response was a knowing chuckle. “Looking forward to it.”
Hannah continued dancing around the living room in celebration, already chattering about sandcastles, seashells, and swimming with dolphins. You stood there watching her, with your heart full of love for your daughter, loving every second of seeing her so happy, and equal parts dread and excitement about what you’d just agreed to, a family vacation in Mexico with Robby. God help you.
Hours later, the glow of your bedside lamp was the only light in the room. You were already tucked into bed, wearing an old, oversized t-shirt that had seen better days. Your phone suddenly vibrated on the nightstand, making you glance at the screen, letting out a slow breath as soon as you noticed who was calling. A Facetime from Robby.
You hesitated for two rings, it was almost midnight, and you didn’t feel like having any possibly agitating conversation right before your bedtime, but ultimately ended up accepting the call. Robby’s face filled the screen almost immediately, he was in his bedroom too, the light of his lamp illuminating his face. His hair was messy, like he’d been running his hand through it, and his glasses were perched low on his nose, those fucking glasses… No, don’t even go there, you silently muttered to your brain
“Hey,” his voice sounded rougher, the way it always got late at night. A small smile tugged at his lips. “You already in bed?”
“Yeah,” you replied, adjusting the blanket over your lap, as if trying to cover yourself up. “It’s late, Robby.”
He hummed in agreement, slowly dragging his eyes over what he could see of you on the screen. “You look comfortable. Cute shirt.” There was a brief pause before he asked, almost casually, “So… have you started packing swimsuits yet?”
You stared at him for a moment, the irritation you’d been carrying for the past hours finally bubbled up. “Robby… we need to talk.”
Robby lifted his eyebrows slightly, but the lazy smile didn’t leave his face. “Alright. About what?”
“You manipulated me into agreeing to this trip.”
Robby let out a low chuckle. “Manipulated? Damn, you’re using big words tonight.”
“It’s not funny,” you said sharply, though you kept your voice quiet so you wouldn’t wake Hannah. “You used our daughter to convince me, and then you joined in. That was low, even for you.”
He tilted his head, still smiling like this was all some lighthearted game. “Anything else?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Yes. You guilt-tripped me. The whole ‘it would mean a lot to her… and to me’ line? That was manipulation.”
Robby leaned back against his headboard, resting one arm behind his head, giving you an even better view of his bare chest. He looked far too relaxed for someone being accused of emotional manipulation. “Jesus,” he muttered, still chuckling softly. “Oh-ho-ho, I’m so evil, I manipulated the mother of my child into letting me take her on a fully paid week at a luxury beach resort in Mexico.” He raised an eyebrow, mock-serious. “Am I gonna go to prison for that?”
“Robby.”
“Relax,” he said, softening his tone just a fraction, though the amusement was still there. “Hannah’s excited. You saw her. She wants all three of us there. I’m just trying to give her what she wants.”
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you shot back. “I know your real agenda behind all of this.”
He tilted his head again, looking curious now. “Oh yeah? And what’s my agenda, according to you?”
You sat up a little straighter in bed, clutching the blanket tighter. “You’re using this stupid trip as an excuse to try and get back with me. You think throwing money at a vacation and putting us in the same space for a whole week is going to magically fix everything. It’s not going to work.”
For a moment, Robby just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then that stupid smirk of his spread across his face again. “Have you seen me in swim trunks lately? I look real good. You might have to swallow your words when you see me.”
You let out an exasperated scoff, though you couldn’t stop the flush that crept up your neck. You hated the way he could still make you laugh when you were trying to be pissed. You hated the way your body still reacted to his words. “You’re impossible. Seriously, it’s impossible to have a serious conversation with you sometimes.”
“I’m just saying,” he continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Sun, sand, good drinks, me looking like this… you never know.”
“I’ll go,” you said, cutting him off before he could keep going. “But don’t even think this means anything else. We’ll get separate rooms. We’ll make separate plans. I’m going for Hannah. That’s it. Don’t get any ideas.”
Robby ignored your warning completely. “You look so gorgeous right now,” he murmured. Suddenly, his voice went quieter, more intimate. Robby moved his eyes slowly over your face, down to the collar of your shirt and back up again. “All soft and sleepy in bed like that. Fuck… I wish I were lying there with you.”
Your stomach flipped despite yourself, the way he said it, so sincere and full of a hunger that never ceased but only grew stronger every day, made heat bloom in your belly. You wanted to scream at how easily he could still do that to you. “Robby…” you warned him.
“I’m serious,” he continued. “I miss the way you feel under me. The way you breathe when you’re falling asleep next to me. I miss—”
“Goodbye, Robby.” You didn’t wait for him to finish, you ended the facetime call with a tap of your finger, plunging your screen into darkness. The room felt suddenly too quiet, too empty without his presence there. You dropped your phone onto the mattress beside you and stared up at the ceiling. Your skin felt warm, your mind was already replaying the way he’d looked at you, the tone of his voice when he said he wished he was lying there with you.
You pulled the blanket higher up to your chest, trying to ignore the storm of feelings Robby had just stirred up with nothing but his voice. It didn’t work, the ache was still there, as well as the flutter in your chest. The way your heart tripped over itself whenever he looked at you like that. Five years later, and Michael could still make your stupid heart race like you were that same fourth-year med student who used to sneak into his place late at night after shift. And now you had agreed to spend an entire week with him. A full week in Mexico. Seven days of Robby being Robby, charming, attentive, and far too good at reminding you exactly why you fell for him in the first place.
You had to force yourself to go back to one of the saddest days you could remember. Robby had come home from a brutal twelve-hour shift. You had just collapsed onto the couch after finally getting Hannah down, she’d been fussy all day, teething and crying restlessly. The moment he walked through the door, you could tell it had been a bad one. His eyes were glassy and distant, the lines on his face etched deeper than usual. Lately, every shift seemed to carve something out of him. He moved closer and pressed a quick, almost mechanical kiss to your forehead. No hello. No “how was your day.” Not even the ghost of a smile. Just autopilot, he was running on empty.
He sat on the edge of the kitchen counter, far from you, shoulders slumped. “There’s some pasta in the fridge I made,” you whispered, hoping it would reach him. He didn’t answer, didn’t even nod. He just stared at nothing, too drained to move.
Then Hannah let out a small cry from her crib. Before you could push yourself up, Robby was already on his feet. He scooped her up gently against his shoulder, swaying her in a soothing rhythm. “Are you okay, little angel?” he cooed softly, tender in a way it hadn’t been for you in weeks. “Yes, you’re okay. Yes, you are. Daddy’s here… shhh, go back to sleep.” That was the only moment you saw him smile genuine, and heartbreakingly soft as he held his daughter.
Tears burned in your eyes as you stood and walked closer to him. You had spent so many sleepless nights turning it over in your mind, and you couldn’t keep prolonging the inevitable. “Robby… we need to talk.”
“About us?” he replied, already sensing where this was going.
You nodded, feeling your throat tight. “Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to be with me? That… you regret telling me to move in with you and being together?”
Robby sighed heavily, rubbing his temples like the weight of the world was pressing down on them. “It’s just work. You have no idea what it’s like trying to hold the whole fucking department together when everything is crumbling down and—”
“It’s not just that,” you cut him off. “You don’t look at me. You don’t talk to me. I understand your job is hard, that you’re stressed and exhausted, but… shit, Robby, all we do is ignore each other. The only time we actually speak is to argue about something stupid.” The tears slipped free then, there was no holding them back.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought I could do all of this, but I—” Tears welled in his eyes too, spilling over as he tried to hold it together. “I don’t know what to do. I—” A sob cut him off.
“Do you need space?” you asked, dreading the answer. “Is that it? You need us to take some time?”
He looked at you for a long moment, broken and defeated. “Yes.”
Two weeks had passed, and before you realized it, the suitcase lay now open on your bed, half-filled with the folded clothes you had carefully picked for the trip. You stood in front of it, folding another sundress, while Hannah sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by her own small pink suitcase and a pile of toys.
“Hannah, baby, do you have everything?” you asked for what felt like the tenth time. “Swimsuits? Sunscreen? The colouring books Daddy bought you for the plane?”
Hannah nodded enthusiastically, holding up her favorite ruffled swimsuit. “Yes, Mommy! And my water wings and the new sunglasses Daddy got me!” She beamed with uncontainable excitement. “Are we leaving soon? Is Daddy almost here?”
“Any minute now,” you replied, zipping up the main compartment of your suitcase with a sigh. Your stomach had been in knots all morning, this trip still felt like a terrible idea the more you thought about it, but Hannah’s joy made it impossible to back out now.
Right on cue, there was a knock at the front door. Hannah shot up like a rocket and ran toward it, yelling “Daddy!” at the top of her lungs.
You followed more slowly, pulling both suitcases behind you. When you opened the door, Robby stood there in a casual white linen shirt and shorts, looking annoyingly relaxed and handsome in the morning sunlight. His eyes immediately found yours, a small playing on his lips. “Hey,” he said softly. “You two ready?”
“Daddy!” Hannah launched herself at him. Robby scooped her up effortlessly, kissing her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi, my little mermaid. You got all your stuff?” He glanced over her head at you. “Need help with the bags?"
“I’ve got them,” you said, a little more curtly than you intended.
The drive to the airport was filled with Hannah’s nonstop chatter from the backseat. She pointed out every car, every cloud, every sign, asking a thousand questions about the plane, the ocean, and whether there would be dolphins. Robby answered every single one with patience, occasionally glancing at you in the passenger seat. You kept your eyes on the road, trying not to think too hard about how domestic this all felt.
At the airport, Robby handled check-in, and when the agent handed over the boarding passes, you caught a glimpse of them and froze. Business class.
You turned to him slowly as they walked toward security. “Seriously, Robby? It’s a four-hour flight. We could’ve flown economy like normal people.”
He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I had miles on my card for an upgrade. Didn’t cost anything extra.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Robby.”
He leaned in slightly, keeping his voice low so Hannah wouldn’t hear. “Forgive me. I just wanted to spoil my family a little.”
“We’re not a family,” you said firmly, glancing ahead at Hannah skipping between you two. Robby didn’t argue, he just gave you a look that said he disagreed but wasn’t going to push.
The flight itself was smoother than you expected. In business class, the seats were wide and comfortable. You both let Hannah had the window seat, ans she spent most of the flight pressed against the glass, watching the clouds and looking at the ocean. Robby sat in the middle, keeping Hannah entertained with the in-flight entertainment and snacks.
You tried to read, but your mind kept wandering, every time Robby’s arm brushed yours, reaching for something, or when he laughed at one of Hannah’s excited comments, memories flooded your mind back, and you had to constantly remind yourself the only reason you were doing this was because Hannah had asked.
You landed in Cancun four hours later. A private transfer waited for you outside arrivals. The driver loaded your bags while Hannah bounced between you and Robby, holding both your hands. The drive to the resort took about forty-five minutes along the coast. You watched the palm trees that lined the road and the turquoise water on one side. Hannah pressed her face to the window the entire time, gasping at every new sight.
When the resort finally came into view, it was even more beautiful than the pictures. A luxurious property with white buildings, infinity pools cascading toward the ocean, and tropical gardens everywhere.
The humid air of Cancun wrapped around you the moment you stepped out of the transfer van. The resort lobby was stunning with high ceilings, white marble floors and massive floral arrangements. Hannah’s hand was firmly in yours, her fingers squeezing with excitement as her eyes darted everywhere at once. “Mommy, look! There’s a fountain! And flowers! And the ocean is right there!”
Robby walked a few steps ahead, carrying Hannah’s pink suitcase in one hand and his own duffel in the other. He looked completely at ease, the fabric of his shirt slightly damp from the humidity and clinging just enough to show the lines of his shoulders. He glanced back at you with a reassuring smile before heading straight to the reception desk. You stayed back with Hannah, letting her point out every detail she noticed.
A few minutes later, Robby returned, twirling a key card between his fingers. “All set. We’re in the beachfront wing. Follow me.”
The walk to the room was beautiful but felt endless. Hannah skipped between you and Robby, holding both your hands and swinging them as she chattered nonstop about building the biggest sandcastle in the world.
Robby finally stopped in front of a beautiful wooden door, he swiped the key card, and the door clicked open. The suite was breathtaking, with floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors that opened onto a wide private balcony overlooking the ocean. The living area had elegant white furniture, and as you stepped further inside, your eyes landed on the bedroom area with two queen-size beds.
You stopped dead in the doorway. “Where’s the other room?” you asked slowly, worried you already knew the answer Robby was about to give you.
Robby set the suitcases down and scratched the back of his head, looking mildly sheepish. “Yeah… so there was a mix-up at the front desk. We only got one room.”
You stared at him with disbelief. “What? Are you serious right now?” The asshole had to be kidding. But then again, this was Robby, and this was exactly the kind of shenanigans he’d put you through. You should have known he wouldn’t keep his promise to let you do your own thing at the resort, to not act like you were a real family on a family holiday. You had been to hopeful to expect he’d at least wait a little longer before showing his real intentions.
Hannah, completely oblivious to the tension, let out a delighted squeal and immediately launched herself onto the nearest bed, jumping up and down with pure joy. “This one’s mine! No, this one! Look how bouncy it is, Mommy! Daddy, come jump with me!”
You barely heard her, your whole attention was locked on Robby. The family suite was gorgeous, in tasteful neutral tones, with fresh flowers on the nightstands, a bottle of champagne and fruit plate waiting on the table with a welcome note, but none of that mattered. What mattered now was that Robby had not only manipulated you to agree to this trip, but he’d also lied to you.
“Michael, do you think I was born yesterday? You totally did this on purpose. I know it.”
He held up both hands in a placating gesture, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “There was a confusion with the booking. I swear. They had us down for a family suite with two queens instead of two separate rooms.”
You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Go fix it. Right now.”
“I already tried,” he said calmly, stepping closer so Hannah wouldn’t overhear. “They’re completely booked. Peak season, a big wedding happening this week. No other rooms available in the whole resort.”
You let out a frustrated breath, rubbing your temple. “This is not what I agreed to, Robby. Separate rooms. That was the condition. I never would’ve come if—”
“I know,” he interrupted gently. “But it’s just one week. I can take one bed, you and Hannah can take the other. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” you hissed, keeping your voice down as Hannah continued bouncing happily, now unpacking her stuffed capybara and arranging it on the pillows. “This is exactly what I was worried about. You’re pushing boundaries.”
Meanwhile, Hannah had moved on to dragging her suitcase across the room, chattering excitedly. “Mommy, can we go to the beach now? The water is waiting! I want to find seashells and build a castle.”
Robby glanced at her with that fatherly smile that always made your chest ache, then looked back at you. “Look at her. She’s already so happy. One week, that’s all. We’re adults. We can handle sharing space for a few nights without it meaning anything.”
You stared at the two queen beds again. They were large, luxurious, with more pillows than necessary. The balcony doors were open, letting in the warm breeze and the constant, soothing sound of waves. It would have been perfect… if it weren’t for the man standing two feet away looking far too pleased with this “mix-up.”
Hannah suddenly ran over and grabbed your hand, then Robby’s. “Come on! Let’s go to the beach! I’m ready! I have my bucket and everything!”
You looked down at your daughter’s beaming face, then back at Robby. He raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting. You let out a long, defeated sigh. “Fine. But this changes nothing, Robby. Separate beds. No funny business. And the second a room opens up, we’re switching.”
“Whatever you say,” he replied, but the small, satisfied smile on his face told you he wasn’t worried at all.
He set his suitcase near one of the queen beds and nodded toward the bathroom. “I’ll go change first. Won’t be long.”
You nodded silently, still processing everything, but as soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, you turned your attention to Hannah, who was already pulling things out of her pink suitcase with frantic excitement.
“Come here, baby,” you said softly, kneeling on the floor beside her bed. “Let’s get you ready for the beach.”
Hannah stood in front of you, wiggling with impatience as you helped her out of her travel clothes. You carefully slipped her into her favorite ruffled swimsuit, bright pink with little white flowers, adjusting the straps and smoothing the fabric over her tummy. Then came the sunscreen. You squeezed a generous amount into your palm and rubbed it slowly over her arms, shoulders, back, legs, and face, making sure every inch was covred. Hannah giggled when you got to her nose, squirming because of how tickly it was.
“You have to stay safe from the sun, okay?” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going to have so much fun, but Mommy doesn’t want you to get burned like a toast.”
“I won’t!” she promised solemnly, then immediately went back to bouncing on her toes. “Can I wear my new sunglasses? And my hat with the flowers?”
The bathroom door opened, and Robby stepped out, for a moment, time seemed to slow. He wore dark swim trunks, paired with a simple white shirt that he hadn’t bothered to put on yet, it was slung over his shoulder. You had seen his bare body no more than a month ago, you’d been under it, but it still felt, somehow, like seeing him again for the first time.
You stared at him longer than you should have. His soft but solid tummy that drove you insane, and that familiar trail of dark hair across his chest that you had always, always loved running your fingers through.
Your eyes traced the lines of his chest, the way the hair curled slightly, the soft give of his stomach. Heat flushed up your neck because God, you still loved every inch of him.
Robby caught you looking and a knowing smile spread across his face. “What?” he asked teasingly. “I got something on my face?”
You blinked hard, tearing your gaze away. “No,” you muttered, grabbing your own beach bag a little too quickly. “I’m… going to change.”
You escaped into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind you. The mirror showed your flushed cheeks, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This was just a week, you could handle this. Just a week of sleeping in the same room, just a week of seeing his body, just a week of him deliberately trying to break down our walls.
You changed into one of the bikinis you’d packed, a simple black two-piece that tied at the sides and back. You liked how it looked on you, it was flattering, but as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt suddenly, acutely aware of how little it covered. Your body had changed since having Hannah, a few stretch marks here and there, breasts that were fuller but not as perky as before. Standing here in just this tiny bikini, knowing Robby was right outside… it felt vulnerable.
You adjusted the ties one more time, took another steadying breath, and stepped out of the bathroom. Hannah immediately squealed. “Mommy, you look so pretty!” She ran over and hugged your legs before darting into the bathroom herself to grab her sunglasses and sun hat. “I’ll be right back!”
You stood in the middle of the suite, adjusting the strap of your beach bag, when Robby stepped in from the balcony. He had been leaning on the railing, looking out at the ocean, but the moment he turned and saw you, he stopped dead. His eyes widened, and he dramatically clutched his chest with one hand, staggering back a step like he was having a heart attack.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, the grin on his face pure mischief. “Warn a guy next time.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile that wanted to break free. “You’re so not funny, Robinavitch.”
You wanted to slap that smug smile right off his face and kiss him senseless at the same time. The two urges warred inside you, because you hated how much his words mattered. How easily he could make you feel like the most beautiful woman who had ever stepped foot on this earth, and how completely you believed him when he said it. He wasn’t just mumbling the words because it felt like something he was supposed to say. No, Robby looked at you like he truly wanted you, like he was dying to get his hands back on your body, to pull you close and remind you exactly how good it used to feel. His gaze lingered, tracing over you in a way that made heat flood your stomach. God, you hated how much you still wanted him to.
He didn’t stop. He kept one hand pressed to his heart, shaking his head slowly as his gaze traveled over you, unashamed, appreciative, and far too warm. “You’re trying to kill me on day one, huh? That bikini… fuck. You look incredible.”
Heat flooded your face again, but you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly self-conscious. “Stop it. This is exactly what I was worried about.”
Robby took a slow step closer, still smiling, but his voice dropped. “Can’t help it. You’ve always looked good, but seeing you like this…” He let the sentence trail off, his sight lingering on the curve of your waist and the ties at your hips.
Before you could respond, Hannah burst back out of the bathroom wearing her oversized sunglasses and floppy sun hat, striking a dramatic pose. “I’m ready! Let’s go see the ocean!”
The sand was warm under your feet as the three of you made your way down the wooden boardwalk to the private stretch of beach reserved for resort guests. The sea stretched out in front of you, waves lapping against the shore, leaving behind lines of foam. Hannah’s excitement was infectious. She ran ahead a few steps, then back to you and Robby, her little sun hat flopping with every bounce. “The water is so blue! Can we go in right now? Please?”
Robby chuckled, adjusting the beach bag on his shoulder. “Let’s set up first, kiddo. Then we’ll swim.”
You chose three loungers under a large thatched umbrella near the water’s edge. You spread out towels while Robby helped Hannah with her water wings. The resort staff had placed a small cooler with chilled water and fruit beside the chairs, and soft music drifted from speakers along the beach.
Once everything was settled, Robby stood and offered his hand to Hannah. “Ready, little mermaid?”
She grabbed his hand with both of hers and tugged him toward the water. You watched them go, settling back into your lounger with the book you’d brought. The sun felt incredible on your skin, you opened your book, but your eyes kept drifting over the top of the pages. Robby and Hannah waded into the shallow waves. Hannah squealed every time the water touched her legs, clinging to Robby’s hand. He lifted her high when a bigger wave came, spinning her around as she laughed uncontrollably. His swim trunks moved lower on his hips, and it made it impossible for you to focus on your book, every few minutes your gaze wandered back to them.
After nearly an hour, Hannah came running back to you, dripping wet and beaming. “Mommy! Come build sandcastles with me! Daddy said he’ll watch our stuff.”
You set your book aside and took her hand, walking down to the firmer sand near the waterline. The two of you knelt together, digging with plastic shovels and buckets. Hannah chattered nonstop about her castle needing a moat and a tower for the princess. You helped her pat the walls smooth, adding seashells and bits of coral you found along the shore. The sun warmed your back, and for a while, everything felt simple and perfect, just you and your daughter creating something together. But you felt Robby’s eyes on you the entire time, when you glanced up, he was sitting on the lounger, with his elbows on his knees, watching with an unreadable expression.
He didn’t look away when your eyes met, the intensity in his gaze made heat bloom across your skin. Later, when the castle was tall and elaborate, Hannah got a mischievous glint in her eye. “Can we bury Daddy in the sand? Like a mummy?”
Robby, who had joined you, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I see how it is. Ganging up on me already?”
You smiled despite yourself. “Sounds fair.”
The three of you worked together, slowly covering Robby as he lay back in the sand. Hannah patted sand over his legs with delight, while you worked on his arms and torso. The heavy sand molded around his body as he lay there patiently, occasionally joking with Hannah about becoming a “sand mummy.” Every time your hands brushed his skin while smoothing the sand, a spark jumped between you. He noticed, and you knew he did.
When you finally stepped back, Robby was almost completely buried, only his head and part of his neck visible. Hannah clapped her hands and danced around him. “He looks like a turtle!”
Robby chuckled, trying to move and finding himself well and truly stuck. “Alright, ladies. Fun’s over. Unbury me.”
You exchanged a look with Hannah, a smile spreading across your face. “You know what, Hannah? Don’t you want to go get some ice cream? I saw a stand right by the pools, and since this is all-inclusive, we can have all the ice cream we want.”
Hannah’s eyes lit up like stars. “Yes! Chocolate and strawberry and rainbow sprinkles!”
Robby snapped his head toward you, as much as he could with what little mobility he had left. “Ice cream sounds great. Why don’t you get me out of here and we go there together?”
You crouched down beside him, close enough that your shadow fell over his face. You leaned in until your faces were only inches apart. “This is for booking one room, Michael.”
His eyes widened with outrage. “You wouldn’t—”
You straightened up before he could finish, taking Hannah’s hand. “Come on, baby. Let’s go find that ice cream. Daddy can wait a few more minutes.”
Hannah giggled conspiratorially and waved at Robby. “Bye, Daddy! We’ll bring you some… maybe!”
As the two of you walked away hand-in-hand toward the resort path, Robby’s voice followed you, half-laughing, half-protesting. “This is unfair punishment! Hannah! Come back!”
You didn’t look back, but you couldn’t stop the satisfied smile on your face. For the first time since arriving, you felt like you might actually survive this week, but only if you kept winning the small battles.
The light of late afternoon had softened into the warm pinks and oranges by the time you and Hannah returned to the suite. The scent of ocean salt that clung to your skin and your hair was a wild mess. You both needed showers badly. You helped Hannah first, rinsing the sand from her hair and body. After drying her with one of the oversized white towels, you slipped her into her favorite purple dress and brushed her hair until it was smooth. Your turn came next, you took your time, letting the warm water wash away the salt, sand, and sunscreen. When you emerged wrapped in a towel, Hannah was sitting on one of the queen beds, flipping through a children’s book the resort had left.
She looked up with a bright smile. “Mommy, I’m so hungry! Can we go eat now?”
“Soon, baby. Let’s wait and see if Daddy gets back so we can all go together.”
You were both dressed and ready when the door to the suite finally opened. Robby stepped inside, still covered head to toe in sand. It clung to his hair, dusted his shoulders and arms, and left visible trails down his legs. His swim trunks looked gritty, and there was sand stuck to the damp skin of his chest and stomach. He looked equal parts ridiculous and defeated. You and Hannah stared for half a second before bursting into laughter.
Hannah pointed, doubling over on the bed. “Daddy! You’re a sand monster for real!”
Robby closed the door behind him with a dramatic sigh, brushing uselessly at his arms. “It’s not funny,” he grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “That wasn’t cool at all.”
You tried to stifle your laughter, covering your mouth with one hand. “You deserved that, Michael.”
He shot you a look, narrowing his eyes playfully. “I have sand in places no person should ever have sand. I’m talking places, okay? You left me there all afernoon.”
You raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Really? The whole afternoon?”
He ran a hand through his hair, sending another shower of sand onto the floor. “Maybe a beach guard eventually helped dig me out. That’s not the point. The point is you two left me there.”
Hannah was still giggling uncontrollably. “Sorry, Daddy. I ate all the ice-cream.”
Robby shook his head, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “Traitors, both of you.” He glanced down at himself again and sighed. “I need a shower. Give me ten minutes and we can head to dinner.”
While Robby disappeared into the bathroom, you and Hannah sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the water run. When Robby finally emerged, he looked refreshed, wearing a clean button-down shirt and shorts. “Ready?” he asked, offering Hannah his hand.
The buffet was everything a resort like this promised, long tables overflowing with fresh seafood, grilled meats, salads, tropical fruits, and many dessert stations. Hannah’s eyes were wide as saucers as she piled her plate high with pasta, shrimp, and fruit, while you and Robby chose more balanced meals.
You ate slowly, savoring the flavors while Hannah chattered between bites about everything she’d seen that day, occasionally yawning as the long day caught up with her.
After dinner, the walk back to the suite was peaceful, the pathways were lit with lanterns, and the sound of waves grew louder again as you approached the beach wing. Hannah walked between you and Robby, holding both your hands, her steps slowing with tiredness.
Back in the room, the bedtime routine felt strangely intimate. You helped Hannah brush her teeth while Robby turned down the beds. Hannah chose to sleep with you tonight. You tucked her in on the bed closest to the balcony, reading her a short story while Robby dimmed the lights.
Soon, Hannah’s breathing evened out into sleep, her body curled against your side. You lay there in the semi-darkness while Robby settled into the other bed, the sheets rustling as he got comfortable.
“Well, isn’t this nice?” Robby murmured, soft enough not to disturb Hannah’s peaceful sleep. “The three of us here like this… I had a great time today. Even if I spent three hours buried under sand.”
You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the way your treacherous heart agreed with him. It did feel nice, dangerously nice. You’d had so much fun being with him, doing things together like a regular family: building sandcastles, chasing waves, watching Hannah’s delighted squeals. For a few stolen hours, it had felt real. “Tomorrow morning,” you said quietly, despite the ache in your chest, “you’re going to the reception and asking if they have any more rooms available.”
The next morning you woke slowly, Hannah was still curled against your side on the queen bed. Carefully, so as not to wake her, you slipped out of bed. You moved quietly around the room, brushing your teeth, splashing cool water on your face, and running a brush through your hair. You chose a red bikini today, tied the strings and slipped on a light white cover-up. Before leaving, you scribbled a short note and left it on the nightstand: Went for an early walk on the beach to watch the sunrise.
Robby woke later, he spotted the note immediately and read it with a smile. “Mommy went for an early beach walk,” he told Hannah, helping her sit up. “Let’s get ready and surprise her with breakfast on the beach. What do you think?”
Hannah’s face lit up. They took their time, Robby patiently helping her brush her teeth and wash her face. He changed into swim trunks and a loose linen shirt, applied sunscreen to Hannah’s face and arms, and they headed out hand-in-hand, making a quick stop at the breakfast buffet to grab some fresh fruit, croissants, yogurt, and cold water bottles to bring to the beach.
The ocean sparkled brilliantly as he scanned the loungers, looking for you. When he finally spotted you further down the beach, his steps slowed. You were standing near the water’s edge in just the red bikini, the morning light highlighting every curve of your body. You looked relaxed, confident, and breathtakingly beautiful. And you weren’t alone. A tall, ripped guy in his mid-to-late twenties stood close to you, shirtless, his sculpted abs and broad shoulders glistening slightly with sweat or water. He was laughing at something you said, leaning in with confidence, clearly flirting back with you.
He looked like he belonged on a fitness magazine cover, young, with zero signs of the wear that came from decades of work. An ugly twist of jealousy hit Robby in the chest. But it wasn’t just jealousy, it was insecurity hiding right behind it. This guy was younger, fitter. Probably had endless stamina and no emotional baggage. Robby became acutely aware of his own softer stomach, the gray hairs scattered across his chest, and the wrinkles around his eyes from years of exhaustion. He felt every one of his fifty. years in that moment, standing there holding a plate of fruit and his daughter’s hand.
Hannah tugged excitedly on Robby’s hand. “There’s Mommy! Look, Daddy! She’s over there by the water. Can we go say hi? Please?”
Robby forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, angel. Let’s go.”
They started walking across the warm sand. Robby’s focus narrowed entirely on you and the man standing far too close. As they approached, he heard the guy’s easy laugh again. The young man was animated, gesturing toward the horizon with one muscular arm, clearly in the middle of some charming story.
“Good morning” Robby said, trying not to sound bothered but doing a terrible job hiding his annoyance. “I see you found company.”
The guy’s gaze flicked from you to Robby, then back to you with mild confusion. “Is that… your father?”
The word landed like a punch, and Robby let out a short and dry laugh, though his jaw tightened painfully. “Her father,” he mumbled on the low. “Cute. No. I’m her husband, as a matter of fact.” His voice didn’t even hesitate over the blatant lie he’d just said.
You laughed, an uncomfortable and forced sound that made Robby’s chest twist. “He’s not my husband,” you corrected quickly. “He’s just… a guy I know from work.”
Robby turned to you slowly, raising one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “A guy you know from work? Excuse me?” The young guy shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearly sensing the sudden thick tension crackling in the air. “I’m the father of her daughter. Michael Robinavitch, nice to meet you.”
The guy’s eyes darted between the three of you, with a confused look across his face as if he couldn’t quite process the sudden shift. Just a couple of minutes earlier he’d been leaning in close, flashing an easy smile and flirting with acute woman at the beach. Now here you were with a man standing possessively close and a little kid next to him. And as if he couldn’t quite believe that Robby, was somehow the father of that kid. “So… you have a daughter? With her?”
Robby kept his tone light for Hannah’s sake, ruffling her hair gently with one hand, but there was an edge underneath his words. “Yes. I got her pregnant. It was a wonderful experience, actually.”
The words came out with a possessive undertone he didn’t even try to hide. What a fucking little prick, Robby thought. He wishes he could pull a woman like you. Sure, the guy might have abs where Robby had a softer belly. Maybe his forehead was smooth, with no lines etched from the pass of time, and his head might still be free of silver hairs. But Robby had pulled you without any of that polished bullshit, and you had always looked at him like he was the most handsome man to ever exist. A little asshole like him wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a woman like you.
You shot Robby a warning glare, a mix of anger and embarrassment. because now you had to explain your awkard family situation to this stranger. “It’s… complicated,” you told the guy, forcing a polite smile that felt brittle on your face. “Really complicated.”
The young man rubbed the back of his neck, his sculpted shoulders tensing visibly. He was clearly uncomfortable now, the easy flirtation from moments ago evaporating. “Yeah… uhh, I think my friends are calling me. Nice to meet you, though.” He gave you one last lingering, appreciative glance before turning and walking away toward a group of guys further down the beach.
The second he was out of earshot, you rounded on Robby, trying to keep your voice low and controlled so Hannah wouldn’t hear, but still with a furious undertone in it. “What the hell was that? You completely ruined it. He was flirting with me, and you had to march over here acting like some possessive caveman. And “her husband” What the hell was that?”
Robby set the beach bag down on the sand a little harder than necessary. “Oh please,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, the movement highlighting the soft give of his stomach beneath his shirt. “He’s not even your type.”
You stared at him incredulously. “And how exactly would you know what my type is these days, Robby?”
He shrugged, but his eyes were dark with a potent mix of jealousy and insecurity. “Because I know you. That guy? All looks and no substance. Perfect abs and zero idea what real life looks like. You’d be bored in ten minutes.”
The words hung between you. Hannah, sensing the growing tension like children always do, tugged gently on your hand. “Mommy, can we eat breakfast now? I’m hungry.”
You forced a warm smile for her, pushing down the frustration and smoothing her messy brown hair with your fingers. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s sit down and eat. Daddy brought all your favorites.”
The rest of the morning on the beach passed in silence from your side. You didn’t speak one more word to Robby. Every time he tried to make conversation,offering you some mango, commenting on how beautiful the water looked, asking if you wanted more sunscreen, you answered with short nods or turned your attention to Hannah instead. Robby noticed, and after a while, he stood up slowly, brushing sand from his legs.
“I’m gonna take a walk around the resort for a bit. Give you some space.” He looked at Hannah with a soft smile. “You stay with Mommy, okay, angel? I’ll be back soon.”
Hannah nodded, already busy building another small tower on her sandcastle. Robby lingered for a second longer, resting his eyes on you with something regretful in them, before he turned and walked away down the beach path. You watched his back until he disappeared behind the palm trees.
The hours passed slowly, you played with Hannah in the shallow water, built more sandcastles, applied more sunscreen, and read a few chapters of your book while she napped under the umbrella. But your mind kept replaying the scene with the guy, Robby’s jealous interruption, his possessive words, the way he’d looked at you. It stirred up too many old feelings you didn’t want to examine.
Part of you enjoyed the attention he gave you, the way Robby got possessive whenever another guy even stepped too close. It felt good to be wanted like that. To see him look at you like he still wanted you to be his and his only, even after all this time, even after everything that had happened between you. It was dangerous, how much you liked it. Because it stirred up the same old feelings, the ones that made it so hard to remember why you kept pushing him away in the first place.
Robby returned a couple of hours later, carrying two fresh iced drinks. He approached cautiously and sat down on the edge of your lounger, close but not touching you. “I know you’re pissed,” he said. “And you have every right to be. I overstepped. I was an asshole back there. Jealous and… yeah. I’m sorry.”
You stayed silent for a long moment, staring out at the turquoise water. “You were. You ruined a nice, harmless conversation.”
Robby nodded, accepting it. “I did.” He paused, then offered one of the iced drinks. “I walked by the spa earlier. They have really good reviews. I thought of getting you a massage as an apology. You deserve to relax after everything… and after dealing with me being an idiot.”
You looked at him then, searching his face. His expression was sincere, the usual cocky edge softened by genuine regret. Part of you wanted to stay mad. The other part, the tired nd overworked resident and mother, desperately wanted that massage. “…Fine,” you said eventually. “But this doesn’t mean I’m not still annoyed.”
“Understood.” He gave you a small smile.
You left Hannah at the resort’s supervised children’s activity center, a beautiful shaded area with crafts, games, and attentive staff. She was thrilled to join the other kids, waving goodbye without a second thought.
The spa building was serene and even more luxurious than the rest of the resort. Robby stepped up to the elegant reception desk first. You watched him leaning slightly on the polished wood counter, and the woman on the desk checking the screen and nodding.
After a couple of seconds, Robby came back to you. “Okay, it’s all settled. I’m gonna head back, maybe hit the pool with the bar. Enjoy your massage. You deserve it.”
Before Robby had any time to head to the door, a masseuse in a white uniform approached you both. She offered a welcoming smile. “Okay, beautiful couple, ready for your couple’s massage? We have the ocean-view room prepared with the full aromatherapy package you selected. It’s one of our most popular experiences.”
You froze right there and then, the word “couple” hitting you like cold water. Your stomach tightened instantly, a rush of irritation flooding through you. “Robby,” you said, turning to him. “What the hell did you do now?”
He looked genuinely surprised, his eyes widening as he raised both hands in a surrender gesture. “I swear I don’t know,” he said quickly, sounding sincere for once. “I just booked a regular massage for you. I didn’t say anything about a couple’s anything. I was very clear, one person, one massage.”
The masseuse glanced between the two of you, still smiling politely, completely unfazed by the sudden tension. “It’s our signature couples experience, side-by-side tables, synchronized massage, and a glass of champagne afterward. Very romantic and relaxing. Perfect for reconnecting.”
Before you could refuse, clarify, or even form a full protest, the staff were already guiding you both forward with efficiency. They led you down a quiet, incense-scented hallway that opened into a treatment room. Two massage tables stood side by side in the center, candles flickering all around the room and towels folded neatly.
Your heart was racing now, a mix of irritation at Robby and anticipation because soon he would be shirtless again, lying only a few feet away while you were both having a “couple experience” when all you needed was to be as far away as possible from the concept of you and Robby being a couple. Your brain was already getting all these confused, dangerous feelings after spending so much time together, the laughter, the casual touches, the way the three of you looked like a real family from the outside. The last thing you needed right now was to keep doing couple activities. Every shared dinner, every walk along the beach, only made the line between co-parents. You were supposed to be keeping your distance.
You turned to him. “This is not what I agreed to, Robby.”
He looked almost sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I really did just ask for one massage. But… we’re here now. Might as well enjoy it?”
The masseuses were already moving, preparing the oils, laying out fresh towels, adjusting the temperature and lighting.
On of them smiled gently. “If you’d both like to remove your clothes to your comfort level and lie face down on the tables, we’ll begin with the back and shoulders. Take your time.”
Robby glanced at you, reading the hesitation in your posture. He gave a reassuring nod. “I’ll go first,” he said quietly, and stepped behind the simple privacy screen they had provided.
You heard the rustle of fabric as he removed his shirt and trunks. You turned around quickly, facing the wall to avoid the sight of his fully naked body, one you knew far too well and that still had the exact same devastating effect on you. Definitely not the kind of reaction you needed when you were supposed to be relaxing. But even with your back to him, the knowledge that he was right there in the same room, completely bare, got your heart beating fast.
When he emerged and lay face down on the right-hand table, he draped the sheet modestly over his lower half. You couldn’t help but notice the familiar lines of his back, his strong shoulders, the soft curve where his waist met his hips. Your turn came next, you stepped behind the screen, your fingers slightly unsteady as you untied the bikini top and stepped out of the bottoms. The cool air kissed your bare skin, you wrapped yourself quickly in one of the large, warmed towels and moved to the left table, lying face down.
You turned your head to the side, away from Robby, trying to steady your breathing. The masseuses worked in sync. Pouring warm oil first, spreading it with their fingers, starting at your shoulders and working downward in long strokes. The pressure was perfect — deep enough to melt the knots from endless shifts, gentle enough to feel indulgent. Beside you, Robby let out a low sound of relief as his own masseuse began. The sound sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine, you knew that voice too well, one you’d heard far too many times.
One of the masseuses, an older woman, spoke softly as she worked on your upper back. “You two make a lovely couple. Have you been together a long time?”
Robby answered before you could explain how you weren’t a couple, you two had ended here after a complicated series of events. “Five years.”
You opened your eyes, staring at the white sheet beneath you. “We’re not really together,” you corrected quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Robby let out a soft chuckle from the next table. “It’s more like an on-and-off thing.”
You turned your head slightly toward him, the irritation mixing with the pleasure of the massage, an experience that was supposed to be relaxing, but now was irritating due to Robby’s presence. “It’s mostly off than on, really.”
The younger masseuse working on Robby smiled as she kneaded his shoulders. “Ah, but you are here together now. That counts for something, no?”
The older woman on your side pressed deeper into a knot between your shoulder blades, drawing a quiet sigh from you. “You make a good couple,” she said warmly. “I have seen many couples working here, but not many where the man looks at the woman the way he looks at you. It’s very special.”
You let out a small, skeptical laugh, the sound muffled against the face cradle. “I find that hard to believe.”
Robby’s voice came from beside you. “I look at her like she’s the second most precious thing in this entire world.”
The masseuses both made soft. The younger one asked curiously, “Why second?”
Robby didn’t hesitate. “Becuse the first one is the daughter she gave me five years ago.”
A soft chorus of “Awww” filled the room. You could practically feel the women melting at his words. The older masseuse patted your shoulder gently. “That is beautiful. A man who knows what he has.”
You felt heat rise in your cheeks, a confusing mix of embarrassment, irritation, and something warmer that his words always managed to make you feel. “He’s a flatterer,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice light. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s very good at saying the right things.”
Robby chuckled again. “Only when it’s true.”
The synchronized rhythm of the massage created an oddly intimate atmosphere. When your masseuse dug into a tight knot between your shoulder blades, Robby’s masseuse did the same at the exact same moment. The sensation of feeling your own body release tension while hearing his quiet groans of pleasure made the room feel smaller, more charged. Time stretched. You found yourself relaxing despite everything, the ocean view, the scent of the oils, the pressure, until the masseuse gently asked you to turn over. You hesitated for a second before complying, keeping the sheet carefully draped over your chest as you rolled onto your back. Robby turned at the same moment, and for a brief second, your eyes met across the small space between the tables. His gaze was dark, but you looked away quickly, focusing on the ceiling and the glow of the candles.
The front massage was somehow even more intimate, oil poured across your collarbones, your arms, your legs. The masseuse’s hands worked slowly up your thighs, careful and professional, but the proximity of Robby, who was lying there with his eyes sometimes closed, sometimes open and watching the ceiling, made every touch feel amplified.
The older masseuse spoke again softly as she massaged your temples. “It is good to see a family taking time together. These moments are precious.”
You stayed silent this time, and Robby’s quiet reply came a moment later. “They are. It took me a while to realize there’s nothing more important than my family.”
When the massage ended, the masseuses quietly stepped out, leaving you and Robby alone in the treatment room. Robes had been provided, and two elegant flutes of champagne with fresh strawberries and raspberries waited on a small table between the two massage tables. You sat up slowly, wrapping the white robe tightly around yourself. Robby did the same on his table, the robe hanging open just enough to show his chest.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sounds were the distant waves. Robby reached for the champagne glasses and handed one to you. He clinked his glass gently against yours.
“To surviving the rest of this trip,” he said softly, a smile playing on his lips.
Robby leaned back against the edge of his table, watching you. The robe slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing more of his chest. “No matter how much you try to pretend you hate spending time with me… I know you secretly enjoy it. We get along. We have fun together. You know there’s this… connection between us.”
You stared into your glass, watching the bubbles rise. You took a sip before answering. “You’re wrong. The only reason we keep spending time together is because you pull this shit all the time. This wasn’t what I agreed to. I asked for separate rooms, no couple activities. You keep lying to me and manipulating everything because you have this fantasy that I’ll magically get back with you just because you paid for some expensive vacation.”
Robby set his glass down slowly. He didn’t look defensive. Instead, his expression was open, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t get a couple’s massage. I swear. I asked for one massage for you.”
You raised an eyebrow, the champagne making your cheeks feel warmer. “What about the hotel room mix-up?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. “Maybe… I didn’t correct the receptionist when he gave me only one room.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”
Robby looked at you then. “I’m in love,” he said simply. “Crazy in love with you. And every single day, every second I spend with you it just gets bigger and bigger. I can’t help it.”
The confession hung between you. You wanted to push back, to stay angry, but the massage had stripped away too many defenses. You knew you could pack your suitcase right now. You knew you could call a taxi, get to the airport, and buy the fastest ticket back home. But part of you didn’t. Part of you longed to stay and see what the next thing Robby would do, how far he’d go to win you back, how much he was willing to risk this time, and whether he truly meant it. The worst part of it all was how little you actually wanted to run away from him.
“You can’t deny the massage was nice,” Robby added quietly.
You took another slow sip of champagne. The truth slipped out before you could stop it. “It felt good,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “Really good.”
The next day you woke to Hannah’s excited bouncing on the bed and Robby’s chuckle from the other side of the room. After a leisurely breakfast on the balcony while watching the ocean, the three of you headed to the resort’s massive water park, full of slides, lazy rivers, and splash zones. Hannah’s eyes were wide with wonder as she ran from one attraction to the next.
You spent hours in the shallow kids’ area first, where sprays of water misted over mushroom fountains. Hannah laughed uncontrollably as she darted through the sprays. Robby lifted her onto his shoulders so she could reach higher sprays, both of them soaked and beaming.
Later, you moved to the lazy river, the three of you floated together on a large raft, the current carrying you under bridges and past waterfalls. Hannah sat between you and Robby, chattering nonstop about the “big slides” she wanted to try next. Robby’s arm rested casually behind you on the raft, occasionally brushing his fingers over your shoulder.
You braved a few bigger slides with Hannah while Robby waited at the bottom with open arms to catch her. He went down the steeper ones with her, their laughter echoing as they shot out into the splash pool. You watched from the side, smiling despite yourself at how good he was with her, patient and playful.
By late afternoon, you were all tired, but still decided to head to the open-air resort theater for the karaoke night. The tables were arranged in an arc around a central stage. You sat at a table near the front with Hannah comfortably settled on your lap. She wore her favorite sundress, her hair still slightly damp from the evening shower. In her small hands, she held a colorful fruity mocktail with a paper umbrella and a slice of pineapple on the rim. She watched performer after performer take the stage, clapping enthusiastically for every single one, whether they were hilariously off-key or surprisingly talented.
Robby sat right beside you, he had switched to margaritas after dinner and was now on his third or fourth. His cheeks were flushed a warm pink, and his smile came easier, the alcohol had softened the edges that usually existed between you, but you kept your guard firmly in place, hyper-aware of the weight of his arm behind you and the occasional brush of his fingers against your shoulder
The host, a charismatic man stepped up to the microphone scanning the crowd. “Alright, folks, next up we have Michael Robinavitch! Michael, the stage is all yours.”
Your stomach dropped instantly. You froze, asking yourself if you’d heard right, because karaoke was something Robby would never, ever, do. But then again, this wasn’t normal Robby, this was Robby after four margaritas that inhibited any level of self-awareness he had. “Robby… where are you going? What are you doing?”
He stood up with a bright, slightly tipsy smile that lit up his whole face. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Hannah’s head, then straightened. “You’ll see,” he said.
He walked toward the stage with confidence, the stage lights catching on the slight sway in his step from the margaritas. The crowd quieted with anticipation as he took the microphone. For a moment, he just stood there, looking out over the audience, until his eyes found yours across the tables. A heart-stopping smile spread across his face.
“Good evening, everyone,” he began. “My name is Michael Robinavitch.” He scanned the audience again until his gaze locked directly on you. “This song goes out to the love of my life.” He pointed straight at you, and heads turned. Dozens of eyes shifted your way all at once. Heat flooded your face in an instant, a deep and mortifying warmth that burned from your chest all the way to your ears.
You wanted the sand beneath the theater to open up and swallow you whole. You sank lower in your seat, wishing you could disappear. Robby didn’t stop. “No, not only the love of my life. She’s the woman of my life. She’s the mother of my child. Look at them, aren’t they the most beautiful ladies in the world?”
The crowd let out a collective and heartfelt “Awww.” Some people clapped, a few whistled. Hannah waved happily at her dad from your lap, completely thrilled and oblivious to your embarrassment. “Daddy’s singing for us, Mommy!” she whispered excitedly, bouncing a little.
The opening notes of Aerosmith’s I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing began playing, and Robby’s voice came through the speakers, rough around the edges from the margaritas, but surprisingly in tune despite being a terrible singer. He sang directly to you, keeping his eyes locked on yours the entire time, as if no one else existed.
“I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you’re far away and dreaming…”
Embarrassment burned through every inch of you. Your cheeks were on fire, and you covered your face with one hand, peeking through your fingers.
“I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Where a moment spent with you is a moment I treasure…”
Hannah bounced happily on your lap, clapping along. “Daddy sounds so good! He’s singing for you, Mommy!”
Robby poured everything into the chorus, his voice rising with emotion, and cracking slightly on the high notes but full of feeling.
“Don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing…”
He pointed at you and Hannah again during the song, his gaze never wavering. The crowd was completely swept up, some singing along, others watching the three of you with fond, smiling faces. You felt painfully exposed, seen in a way that terrified you, and yet terrifyingly wanted and loved in front of all these strangers.
When the final notes faded, the audience erupted in loud applause and cheers. He gave a small, humble bow, grinning widely. He didn’t step off the stage immediately, instead, he raised the microphone again. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at the crowd. “I just want to say one more thing before I go. I was an idiot. I did some things I regret. I let fear and work, and my own stubbornness get in the way of the best things in my life.” He looked straight at you. “But this woman right here… and our beautiful daughter… they are the best thing that ever happened to me. All I want is another chance to fix it. To do it right this time.”
The crowd reacted instantly, followed by scattered cheers and shouts of encouragement. Someone near the back yelled, “Give the man another chance!” More voices joined in, “Yeah, go for it!” until it became a playful chant rippling across the theater.
Robby finally stepped off the stage, making his way back to your table amid the lingering applause. Hannah launched herself into his arms the moment he sat down. “Daddy! You sang so good for Mommy!”
You stared at him, your heart still racing from the public love declaration and the serenade. You leaned in close so only he could hear. “You’re an idiot, Robby.”
He turned to you, so close that the scent of tequila and his cologne wrapped around you again. “Yeah. But I’m your idiot.”
You wanted to push him away, to stay angry about the public spectacle and the way he kept blurring every boundary. But with Hannah happily chattering between you two about how “Daddy is the best singer ever,” and the crowd still occasionally glancing your way with fond smiles, it was impossible to ignore the pull.
“Every single word was true.” He brushed your shoulder gently. “I lost so many years, so much time, so many memories I let go because of how I felt, and now the thought of missing one single moment with you kills me. I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not.”
You had to blink back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. For the first time, you believed every single word that left his lips, no doubting, no second-guessing, no walls left to hide behind. After days of fighting him, of pushing back against every word and lingering touch, all you wanted was to pull him close, to bury your face in his chest and tell him you wanted the same thing. That every second you’d wasted fighting him was a second the two of you could have been together, laughing, touching. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” you swallowed. “When you’re not four margaritas in.”
The next morning, you woke before Hannah. You glanced at Robby in the other queen bed. He was still asleep, lying on his back with one arm draped over his stomach, the sheet low on his hips. You moved quietly and sat on the edge of his bed, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. For a long moment you just watched him, the morning light highlighting the white hair on his jaw and the lines around his eyes.
Then Robby stirred, fluttering his eyes open slowly, focusing on you with sleepy confusion that quickly shifted into something softer, almost disbelieving. “Am I dreaming?” he murmured as he blinked a few times, pushing himself up on one elbow. “Why are you in bed with me?”
You stayed seated on the edge with your hands in your lap. “Do you remember what happened yesterday?”
He rubbed his face with one hand, still half-asleep. “We went to the water park? Hannah loved the slides…”
“Not that, idiot,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Later. The karaoke.”
Robby froze. His eyes widened as the memories clearly flooded back. He let out a long groan and dropped back onto the pillow, covering his face with both hands. “Oh yeah… Jesus. I can’t believe I did that.”
“I bet you’re regretting it now.”
He lowered his hands slowly. “I might be deeply embarrassed. But I don’t regret it. I wanted to do something romantic for you. Something that showed you how I feel.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light even as your pulse quickened. “Yeah? Nothing more romantic than singing off-key Aerosmith in front of a hundred strangers.”
Robby chuckled and pushed himself up to sit against the headboard. “Come on, it wasn’t that off-key.” His eyes met yours. “I meant every single word I said. About not wanting to miss another second without you. About you and Hannah being the best things that ever happened to me. About wanting another chance.”
You held his gaze for a long moment, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest, breaking down your defences more and more each day. “I heard you loud and clear, Robby.”
Hannah stirred slightly in the other bed but didn’t wake. You stood up slowly, smoothing your sleep shirt. “I’m gonna head to the pools for a bit before she wakes up.”
Robby sat up straighter. “You can’t.”
You turned back to him, raising your eyebrow. “Why not?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish again. “Yesterday I… booked us dancing lessons on the beach. Salsa. For this morning.”
You stared at him. “And why the hell did you do that? Why didn’t you ask me first? I don’t wanna go.”
He let out a helpless laugh. “I don’t know. I was drunk and thought dancing salsa with you on the beach sounded like a great idea at the time.”
You crossed your arms. “Well, I’m not going.”
“Please go with me,” he said wofter now, almost pleading. He looked at you with those warm brown eyes that had always been able to weaken your resolve. “I’ll behave. I promise. Otherwise I’m gonna have to dance with the teacher, and that would be even more embarrassing than last night.”
You stood there in the quiet morning light, part of you still wanted to say no, to keep the boundaries firm, to protect the distance you’d fought so hard to maintain. But you knew if it wasn’t this, then he’d simply come up with another way of putting the two of you together in another situation. Being with him for these days had softened you more than you cared to admit, it had all worn down your defenses. And after every honest word he’d laid bare last night, combined with the way he was looking at you now with that sheepish, boyish smile and those earnest eyes that always saw straight through you, it made it very hard to keep saying no.
After dropping Hannah off at the resort’s supervised kids’ activities center, where she immediately ran off with a group of children to do crafts and play games, you and Robby walked the shaded pathways toward the beach.
The beach dancing area was set up in a beautiful, semi-private cove framed by gently curving palm trees and large rocks. The instructor, a local man, welcomed you both with open arms. “Perfect timing!. Come, come, partners, face each other. We start with the basic steps.”
Robby was a terrible dancer. He tried, God, he tried so hard, but his movements were initially stiff and awkward, his hips resisting the rhythm. He settled his hands on your bare waist with visible hesitation at first, but that hesitation quickly melted into something much hungrier.
The first time the instructor called for a basic side step and Robby pulled you in, he pressed his palm firmly against the small of your back, splaying his fingers wide as if he needed to feel as much of you as possible.
The heat of his touch burned straight through your skin, sending a spark racing up your spine. “Like this?” Robby asked the instructor as he attempted the next step.
His thigh accidentally slid between your legs for balance during a turn, pressing close for a second longer than necessary. You felt the warmth of him, the subtle shift of his hips, and heat pooled in your belly.
The instructor laughed good-naturedly. “Looser hips, my friend! Feel the music. Let it move you.”
Robby tried again, pulling you closer on the next basic. He brushed his chest against yours with every step, the thin fabric of his shirt and your bikini top did nothing to hide the heat of his body.
“This is harder than it looks,” he muttered close to your ear, his breath warm against your neck. He slid his hand a little lower on your back, digging his fingers in with hunger. “But I like having an excuse to hold you like this.”
You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the beat. “You’re terrible at this.”
He grinned as he dipped you slightly on the instructor’s cue. “But I’m trying. For you.”
His body was pressed flush against yours, his hips rolling in what was supposed to be a salsa step but felt far more intimate. The subtle grind, the way his thigh stayed between yours for balance, the hungry way in which he dropped his to your mouth and lower, to the swell of your breasts, made your skin tingle everywhere he touched.
Your pulse thundered in your ears, almost drowning out the music. Every turn, every close hold, every time his hands guided your hips, the tension built higher. He traced possessive circles on your lower back with his fingers. When the music slowed for a moment to practice a more sensual move, he looked down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, like he wanted to devour every inch of you right there on the sand in front of everyone.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You’d tried to fight every single advance he’d made since you both arrived. You’d tried to ignore the way he looked, more tan from the sun, those charming freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, his soft body on full display in nothing but swim trunks. You’d tried to pretend you weren’t affected by the flood of memories rushing back every time he got close, or by the fantasies of what life could look like if you finally let him in. And you were bone-tired of pretending you didn’t want the same thing. Exhausted from denying yourself what your body craved so much, his hands, his mouth, the weight of him pressing you down, the way only he could make you fel.
Mid-step, you grabbed Robby’s hand tightly and started walking, pulling him firmly away from the group and down the beach. The ocean breeze tried cooling the flush on your skin but did nothing to calm the fire in your belly.
Robby stumbled slightly to keep up, surprised but not resisting. “Where are we going?”
You didn’t slow down, already scanning the shoreline ahead. “We’re going to have sex.”
He let out a startled and deep laugh that sent another shiver racing through you. A second later the laugh faded into pure disbelief. “Wait… are you serious?”
You kept walking, your breath coming faster as the arousal intensified with every second that went by without feeling Robby’s touch. “Yes, Michael.”
Robby’s grip on your hand tightened. “Let’s go back to the room then. No risk of anyone seeing—”
“It’s too far,” you cut him off, your voice breathy with need. “And they’re probably cleaning it right now.”
He let out an incredulous laugh, half-aroused, half-amused. “So what? We’re doing it in the wild?”
You glanced back at him, the corner of your mouth twitching despite the heat flooding your body. “Michael, it’s the beach, not the wilderness.”
“Excuse me,” he said, still laughing softly but with clear hunger in his eyes, “But I really like this resort. I don’t want to get banned for life from this chain.”
You stopped for a second, turning to look at him fully. Your voice dropped to a more direct and impatient tone. “You wanna fuck or not?”
His expression shifted instantly, completely undone. “Yes please.”
“Good, then stop complaining.” You kept walking until you found a good spot: a small, semi-secluded cove partially shielded by large rocks and leaning palm trees. The sand here was softer, shaded in patches by the foliage, with a clear but private view of the ocean. You pulled him behind the largest rock formation and Robby followed without hesitation, his hands already sliding to your waist the moment you stopped. The hunger in his touch matched the fire burning in your veins. He pressed you back against the smooth, sun-warmed rock, his body crowding yours, mouth hovering just inches from yours, breath ragged. The tension that had been building since the massage, since the karaoke, since the entire trip finally snapped.
The moment you pulled Robby behind the large, sun-warmed rock, the rest of the world fell away, all that existed was the heat between you, the desperate need that had been simmering since the very beginning of this trip.
You surged forward and kissed him. Robby met you instantly, a hungry sound rumbling in his chest as his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth was hot and demanding, and his fingers dug into your hips with desperation. He kissed you like a man who had been starving ever since the last night you shared together, sweeping his tongue into your mouth, claiming, while he slid one up your back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wanted it.
He broke the kiss just enough to breathe against your lips. “I’ve been dreaming about this. Every single night since we got here. I didn’t think it would actually happen.”
You smiled against his mouth, sliding your hands up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms. “All your stupid tricks finally worked.”
He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as he roamed his hands restlessly over your body, down your sides, cupping your ass, pulling you harder against the growing hardness in his swim trunks. “All I did was to try and prove you how much I love you,” he murmured. “I want to be with you. Not just fuck you again. I want everything. You, Hannah, us as a family. That’s all it’s ever been about.”
Your hand slid down between you, palming the hard and thick outline of his cock through the fabric. He hissed sharply, jerking his hips forward into your touch. “It was torture,” he rasped, against your ear, “seeing you in that bikini every single day and not being able to touch you. Not being able to do this.”
You squeezed him gently, stroking the length of him through his trunks. “Maybe I wanted to touch your body too.”
He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan as you rubbed your thumb over the fat head. “I know. I could see the way you watched me. You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
You couldn’t wait any longer. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of Robby’s swim trunks and pushed them down just enough to free him. His cock sprang out, the thick vein along the underside pulsed visibly as you wrapped your hand around the base, your fingers barely able to close fully around his girth. You stroked him slowly from base to tip, savoring the way he throbbed powerfully in your grip. “It’s your fault for having this fucking body,” you whispered. “It’s just my type.”
Robby let his head fall back against the rock with a moan, bucking his hips into your fist. “I was right,” he managed to say. “That guy the other day at the beach… he wasn’t your type, was he?”
You swept your thumb over the head on every upstroke, spreading the leaking precum and making him even wetter. Robby groaned deeply, jerking forward into your fist as you twisted your wrist just the way he liked, squeezing a little tighter on the way back down. “Please. That guy lacked everything I love in you.”
“Fuck… your hand feels so good,” he rasped. “Been dying to feel you touch me again.” He cursed under his breath, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.
You sank slowly to your knees in the sand, until Robby’s cock stood right in front of you, flushed a deep, needy red at the head and already leaking a steady bead of precum. You looked up at him through your lashes, taking in the sight of him towering above you.
As you wrapped one hand around the thick base, the heat of him pulsed strongly against your palm, the weight and girth of him making your mouth water. You started slow, torturously slow. Leaning in, you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the leaking tip, tasting the salty, slightly bitter bead of precum that had gathered there. Robby’s hips jerked forward involuntarily as a whimper escaped from his chest. You kissed it again, slower this time, letting your lips linger as you savored the skin stretched tight over the swollen head.
Then you dragged your tongue in a wet circle around it, tracing every ridge and vein, feeling the way he twitched and throbbed against your tongue with every pass. “Fuck… baby,” he groaned, already wrecked and sounding hoarse. One of his hands came down to gently grab your hair, trembling slightly as his fingers carded through the strands. “Come on… please… Take a little more, baby.”
You smiled against the slick head, barely parting your lips to take just the tip into the wet heat of your mouth. You sucked gently, swirling your tongue lazily around him, giving him only the lightest, teasing pressure. Robby’s moan was loud and needy, his thighs were trembling as he fought the powerful urge to thrust deeper into your mouth.
You pulled back just enough to speak, brushing your lips still against the glistening tip, a thin string of saliva connecting you. “You’ve been thinking about this the whole trip, haven’t you?”
Robby closed his eyes for a second and nodded, almost like he was in pain. Then you took him deeper, sucking more of his length into your mouth. You hollowed our cheeks as you worked him with deliberate bobs of your head, savoring every inch. The taste of him, the salty skin that was so uniquely Robby, made you moan around his cock. The vibration drew another loud, desperate whimper from deep in his throat.
You remembered every little trick he used to love from years ago, the way he liked the flat of your tongue pressing firmly along the sensitive underside, followed immediately by soothing suction, the way you hollowed your cheeks on the upstroke to create that perfect tight pressure. You did them all, eagerly and hungrily, losing yourself in the heavy weight of him on your tongue and the broken, needy sounds he couldn’t hold back no matter how hard he tried.
You slid your free hand between his spread legs, cupping and gently rolling his heavy balls, massaging them with careful pressure. Robby’s head fell back against the rock with a guttural groan that was almost too loud for the public setting. His hips stuttered forward, chasing the wet heat of your mouth as he fought for control.
“God… your mouth,” he panted, forcing his eyes to stay open. He couldn’t stop watching you, the way your lips stretched obscenely around his cock, the spit glistening on your chin and dripping down his shaft, the lust-drunk look in your eyes as you took him deeper with every bob of your head. “I can’t… fuck. You look so fucking good like this, on your knees for me.”
You moaned again around him, and took him as deep as you could, until your nose was brushing the dark, untrimmed hair at his base, holding him there for a long moment while your throat worked around him. You continued playing with his balls, gently tugging and rolling them, feeling them draw up tight as his pleasure built.
Robby’s whimpers turned into full, unrestrained moans. He tightened his fingers almost painfully in your hair as he began rocking his hips shallowly, fucking your mouth with tiny movements. Spit dripped down your chin, coating your hand as you stroked what your mouth couldn’t reach, twisting your wrist on every upstroke just the way he liked.
You pulled off just enough to gasp for air, strings of thick spit connecting your swollen lips to his throbbing cock. “You gotta be quiet,” you whispered, “if you don’t want to attract an audience.”
Robby let out a shaky laugh that quickly dissolved into another deep moan as you licked a long stripe up the entire underside of his cock, tongue pressing firmly against the thick vein there.
“I can’t… I can’t be quiet when I’m finally feeling your mouth again. Fuck, I’ve missed this so much. Missed you so fucking much.”
You took him back in without warning, sucking harder and faster now. Robby’s moans grew louder, more needy, his body trembling as he fought the edge, his thighs shaking beside your head. “Baby… I’m close,” he warned, stuttering his hips forward. “So fucking close—”
You kept going, eager to push him over the edge, dying to feel his thick load flooding your mouth, but Robby suddenly pulled you off with a desperate groan. He hauled you up to your feet with strength. His cock, slick and throbbing and coated in your spit, pressed against your stomach. “Not yet,” he rasped. “Not like this. I want more. I want all of you.”
With a growl, he spun you around, pressing your front firmly against the rock. Your cheek rested against the stone as he yanked the ties of your bikini bottoms loose with impatient fingers until the fabric slid down your legs and pooled at your ankles. You kicked it aside impatiently, leaving yourself completely bare from the waist down.
One of Robby’s large hands slid up your body from behind, slipping under the fabric of your bikini top. His palm was hot as it cupped your breast fully, squeezing the soft flesh with blatant hunger. He found your already hard nipple and rolled it slowly between thumb and forefinger, pinching just hard enough to send sparks of pleasure shooting straight down to your dripping core. You gasped, arching your back and pressing your breast harder into his hand, craving more of that delicious sting.
At the same time, he dipped his other hand between your legs from behind, dragging two thick fingers teasingly through your soaked folds, parting them and spreading your slick arousal everywhere. The wetness coated his fingers as he explored you, rubbing up and down your slit before finally finding your puffy clit. He circled it with the pad of his middle finger, pressing it just right, making your thighs tremble and your knees threaten to buckle against the rock.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” his voice was rough with lust. “This pussy is dripping for me already. You’ve been aching for my cock, huh?”
You moaned loudly and pushed back against his hand desperately. “Robby… I can’t wait anymore,” you gasped. “I need you inside me. Now. Please.”
He pressed a wet kiss to the back of your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth possessively. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned.
You felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against your entrance, sliding through your slick folds once, twice, teasing you both. Then, with one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you.
The stretch was like something you never felt before, overwhelming and full, exactly what you’d been craving for days. Robby filled you completely, his cock dragged against every spot inside as he bottomed out with a satisfied groan.
He stayed there for a long moment, buried to the hilt, both of you breathing hard together, his chest pressed flush against your back, one hand still massaging and kneading your breast, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.
Then he started moving, he was slow at first, giving you deep and rolling thrusts that let you feel every single inch of him. Robby snapped his hips forward deliberately, driving his cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. The wet sound of skin meeting skin mixed beautifully with the waves and your shared, breathy moans.
Robby’s grip on your hip tightened as he gradually picked up the pace, fucking you harder, deeper. “God, you feel so fucking good,” he groaned right against your ear. One of his hands left your breast, sliding down your body until it reached your ass. He grabbed a full, greedy handful of the rounded flesh, squeezing hard enough to leave marks as he spread you open wider for him, pulling your cheeks apart so he could watch every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside your greedy pussy. Your arousal coated his shaft, strings of wetness connecting you every time he pulled back, only to slam in deeper. “So tight… so wet for me. Been thinking about this pussy every single day on this trip. You’re creaming all over me, baby. Can you feel how deep I am?”
You moaned loudly, pushing back to meet every powerful thrust. The rock was warm against your front, your breasts kept rubbing against it with every movement. He leaned over you more, changing the angle so he could fuck you even deeper, snapping his hips forward with raw purpose now. “You’re mine,” he growled against your ear. “This pussy is mine. You’re mine. Say it.”
You could only moan in response at first, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. “Y-yours.”
He grabbed your hips with both hands, digging his fingers in hard as he pulled you back onto his cock with every thrust. “Fuck, Robby… harder,” you gasped, still pushing back against him. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he growled, slamming into you deeper. “Not gonna stop until you’re coming all over my cock.”
You moaned louder, unable to hold back. Robby’s hand left your hip and slid up your body, pressing two fingers firmly against your lips. “Suck on them,” he growled hotly against your skin. “Before someone hears how well I’m fucking you. Be a good girl for me.”
You parted your lips obediently, taking his fingers deep into your mouth. You sucked on them eagerly, swirling your tongue around the digits just like you had around his cock earlier. Robby groaned deeply at the feeling of your muffled moans against his fingers, his hips slamming into you harder.
With his other hand, Robby found your swollen, aching clit. He pressed his digit firmly against the bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles with exactly the pressure he knew drove you wild. He alternated between teasing strokes and faster, more insistent ones, never letting the rhythm become predictable. The dual sensation was devastating, not only his cock stretching and pounding into you from behind, but now his fingers working your clit relentlessly.
“That’s it,” he rasped as he fucked you even deeper. “Suck my fingers while I ruin this pussy. You’re so fucking wet for me. Been thinking of it since the dance lesson, haven’t you? I could feel how soaked you were the whole time I was touching you.”
You moaned around his fingers, the sound vibrating against them as you sucked harder. Your legs shook uncontrollably. “Come for me,” he rubbed your clit faster and harder. “I want to feel you squeezing my cock when you cum. Let me feel how much you need this. How much you’ve been aching for me.”
The tension snapped, your orgasm crashing over you hard and suddenly. You cried out around his fingers, your pussy clenching rhythmically around his thick cock, fluttering and squeezing him tightly as waves of overwhelming pleasure rolled through your entire body.
Robby’s thrusts grew erratic as he chased his own release. “Fuck… you feel so good when you cum. So tight. I’m so close, baby.” He kept fucking you through your orgasm, drawing it out with deep strokes, his fingers still rubbing your oversensitive clit in gentler circles. His voice was completely wrecked when he spoke again. “Can I finish inside? Please… I need to fill you up. I need to cum inside you.”
You pulled off his fingers just enough to gasp out. “Yes. Cum inside me. Fill me up, Robby. I want it so much.”
That was all he needed. Robby buried himself as deep as possible with a broken moan as he came. You felt every pulse as he emptied himself inside you, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy in thick spurts. He kept thrusting through it, as if he wanted to push every single drop of his fat load as far inside you as possible. His body trembled against yours as he pressed his forehead to the back of your neck, breathing raggedly against your sweat-slicked skin.
Robby wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you close as he softened inside you, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder and the back of your neck. His cum slowly leaked down your thigh in sticky trails, mixing with your own wetness.
Eventually, you shifted, feeling the pleasant ache between your legs and the reality of where you were. You reached down, picked up your discarded bikini bottoms from the sand, and slowly tied them back on with slightly shaky fingers. Robby stayed close, resting his hands on your hips, stroking circles with his thumbs as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.
“We should go pick up Hannah,” you said softly, still sounding a little hoarse.
Robby didn’t move right away, he turned you gently to face him, cupping your face with his hands. “Wait,” he murmured. “What does this mean? Just admit it and stop fooling yourself. Tell me you want this as much as I do. That you want to be with me too. That you never minded sharing a room, or getting a couple’s massage, or taking dancing lessons. Tell me you actually like spending time together like this.”
You looked up at him, the vulnerability in his voice made your chest ache, and after an intense orgasm like the one he’d just given you, you couldn’t even fool yourself. You took a slow breath. “Yes… I do,” you admitted. “I like being with you, Robby. I like the sex. I like how you make me laugh. I like talking to you. I like… all of it.” His eyes lit up with hope, but you continued before he could speak. “But what happens with me? What happens with Hannah if you change your mind? If the charm wears off once we’re back home, dealing with real life.”
Robby’s expression turned serious, almost pained. He cupped your face more firmly, brushing your cheeks. “I wouldn’t go through all of this if I weren’t a hundred percent sure of what I feel and what I want. Hannah is the most important thing in my life. I’d die before hurting her. Or you. I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”
You searched his eyes, tears pricking at the corners of yours. “How can I believe you?”
He smiled softly, a little sheepish. “I sang in front of a crowd for you. That has to count for something.”
You laughed despite yourself. “This whole trip has been so nice… but real life isn’t a beach resort with massages and dancing lessons.”
Robby pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I want you when you’re tired from work. Sweaty, your hair a mess, exhausted. I want the long nights when we’re both too drained to speak, and the fights when we’re frustrated and still choose each other every single day. I want all of it.” He kissed you softly, then pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “Please… I’ve missed so much already, don’t let me miss another thing.”
You smiled, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. You leaned in and kissed him again, slow and deep, full of everything you’d been holding back. When you pulled away, he searched your face with hopeful eyes. “Is that a yes?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
You smiled wider. “It’s a maybe.”
He kissed you again, deeper this time. “Say yes.”
You laughed softly against his lips. “Maybe.”
Another kiss, sweeter. “Yes?”
You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yes.”
Your reblog doesn’t just support me as a writer, it also helps this reach the people who read the first part, so please consider taking 0.00001 second to click that button, it’s free!!💜
A/N: I feel like, the way it happens in a lot of media, second parts are never quite as good as the first one. But people wanted a second part, and I wanted to write one too, so here’s what I came up with. I hope it wasn’t too long or boring. I’m so thankful for all the love and support the first part got. It genuinely makes me so happy to see that people enjoyed it🥹
There’s honestly so much I could write about these two, but it already felt long as it is. I don’t think I’ll write a third part, to be honest.
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Three, almost four nights a week, he comes in, dressed in his black scrubs and Carhartt jacket, and sits himself in your section. Every night, he orders a black coffee, a slice of chocolate pie ("And can you put an extra dollop of whipped cream on that, hon?"), and stares at you like it's his damn right.
"Robby," he finally introduces himself as one rainy night, making you almost drop the notepad in your hands.
You're too stunned to repeat it back to Robby so you merely smile politely. The one he returns is marginally less cordial. It's tight, tired in the way that he never seems to sleep off.
The silence between you begins to feel impossible. You pull your pen from your apron.
"Black coffee and a slice of chocolate pie?" You ask, just like every other night. Tradition is nice. Comforting.
"Yes," he says. "With an extra dollop of whipped cream, please."
You nod the second the words are out of his mouth, throwing your notepad shut and turning on your—
“Oh, hon?”
You freeze. That’s not part of our regularly scheduled programming.
“Yes?”
Robby clears his throat, eyes scanning the diner behind you. He leans in and says, “They don’t pay you enough here.”
You shift. “Well—“
Robby puts his hand up, and for some reason you shut up. “Don’t argue. I know they don’t.” He scratches his beard, observing you. “You should quit.”
You laugh because it feels like your only option. It’s beginning to feel hot, and the few other people in the place are noticing you two. You’re sure if it wasn’t empty tonight, you’d get an earful about wasting time from your manager.
“I can’t,” you say. Your skin is buzzing— you should go. “I can’t pay rent without it.”
Robby smirks. “Okay.”
Your face twists at Robby’s tone. You press, “I can’t.”
“You’d be surprised.”
That’s the last word he says all night. Not even a thank you when you drop off his coffee and pie (along with the check). You stick behind the bar, wiping various coffee mugs with a rag.
When Robby eventually leaves, you stay behind the bar longer still. You check on all the pies in the case, counting each and every slice left, and then doing that twice more before deciding it's about time to go grab the twenty dollar bill Robby always leaves.
Except, it's not a twenty– it's a fifty. Twenty of them.
You choke on nothing, nabbing receipt only to find something scribbled hastily in pen on the bottom– a phone number and a message.