DESC.: wife!reader, pregnant!reader, established relationships
Notes: Robert IV has too many similarities to his father. Specifically, his mouth.
Author's Note: Lmk if I should make more parts to this, it's fun.
Author's Update: I made it a series.
"Daddy, why does he talk all funny? What's up with that?"
"Mommy, I'm 4, not 50."
"I love brownies! From my rooter to tooter, or whatever the saying is."
She sometimes wondered if she let Robert talk to her stomach too much during her pregnancy, because she was now stuck with two sarcastic, blunt Roberts' and another swollen womb.
And her husband never made it easier.
"He talks like that because he's an attention wh*re. Don't repeat that, mommy doesn't like it. It's not nice."
"Yeah, mommy. Have some decorum, our boy's a big boy, not an old man."
"That's not- you know what? Heck yeah, Bobbi. Rooter to tooter."
Currently, the three of them were at the grocery store, behaving for once. Robert pushes the cart, his free hand on the small of his wife's stiff back and constantly checking on her.
Bobbi, putting the food in the buggy, rants curiosly. Sometimes about the food, sometimes about animals, or about his unborn sister. If they were being honest, it was moreso his sister.
"Mommy. Does sister like brownies? I don't know if we can be friends if she doesn't like brownies."
"It depends on what I crave, baby. So, I suppose so."
"Even if she didn't, you're stuck with her. So suck up your brownie b*tching and grab the juice."
"Robert."
"Okay, daddy."
Feeling eyes on them, he brings his wife closer and turns. He meets the gaze of a random worker, nodding kindly at her shocked and concerned face.
"Mornin'."
The boy rushed back, placing the jug inside the buggy. He grins when his father ruffled his hair, hugging his leg tightly. Robert smiled, hugging him back before sending off once more.
As they spoke, a man bumps into his wife's shoulder, his warm and relaxed gaze hardening almost immediately. Despite not being at fault, she apologized kindly.
"Whatever, b*tch, just watch where you're going."
"Mommy's not a b*tch, she's a mommy."
Bobbi speaks up before any words of poison could escape his father's mouth. She scolds the young boy, hands on her hips. She's ignored as the boy stood in front of her protectively.
His next words makes his father laugh.
"You're the b*tch, b*tch man."
"B*tch man, huh? He's more of a c*nt e**ing basic b*tch boy with no manners."
"No manners, daddy."
"I know, bud. Sucks. I bet he's used to suc-"
"Robert!"
"What?"/"Yes?"
Both Roberts' respond, looking confused, as if the concept of having a dirty mouth was even possible in this context. She turns to the fuming man, apologizing frantically.
Robert shrugs, guiding them away, his hand tighter on her hip in frustration. Bobbi, however, happily skipped next to his mother, looking up for praise or validation.
DESC.: wife!reader, pregnant!reader, established relationship
Notes: Same universe as "Blurt" and "Waiting in the Lobby". Mostly centered around Bobbi and Robert.
"I don't want you to tuck me in, daddy. I want mommy,"
"I know, bud. But little sister is making her feel sick right now. I'm the only option you've got."
With a disappointed and dramatic sigh, he lets his father pick him up and kiss his head. Reluctantly, he allows himself to rest his chubby little cheek on Robert's shoulder.
He chuckles, entering the boy's room, careful not to step on his stuffed dog toy. He was pretty sensitive when it came to it. He sets him down and tucks him in, fiddling with his hair.
"Comfy?"
"Um... I guess, daddy."
"What's wr... oh, you little-!"
Bobbi squeals loudly as his sides are attacked, squirming as he giggled and swatted at him. Robert shushes him, despite his actions not stopping or slowing down.
"Sh, hey, hey! Your mom's trying to sleep. Be quiet,"
"Poking, daddy, poking!"
"Alright, alright. No more poking."
He raises his hands up in defense. Bobbi catches his breath, before blowing a big and long raspberry at the man. Robert's fakes offense, hand over his heart.
Bobbi giggles, slumping into his pillows once more. His eyes look up into his father's, a mirror of the boy's young soul as well as his mother's. Robert smiles softly, kissing his head.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"Are you proud of me?"
Robert pauses, brows twitching upward in confusion as well as shock at the sudden question. He eyes the young boy, cupping his tiny chin. He gives him a concerned grin.
"Why ask that, baby boy?"
"I'm not a hero like you, or grandpa, or grandpa Chase. Would I have to be a hero to-?"
"No."
He immediately said, face hardening. He kept his voice soft as he grabs one of the boy's smaller hands and cups his face. His thumbs trace the back of his hand.
He traces the birthmark behind his ear and on the back of his hand, smiling softly at the sight. He then looks the boy in the eye, uttering his name as softly as he could.
"You, little Bobbi, make me and mom proud every day by just being you. I never want you to have that life like I had. Mecha Man doesn't make the person, the person underneath is what makes the hero a good one."
"... mommy's proud of me?"
"Is that the only thing you focused on?"
He laughs, shaking his head at the boy's joyful face. Such a mama's boy. Like he could complain, being as equally (if not, much more) obsessed with the missus.
"But yes, mama's proud of you. But I'm right here, too, ya know-"
"Since mommy's proud of me, does that mean that I can't be her hero?"
Robert chuckles softly, clutching at his shirt as he leans against the boy's bed. He was just too cute for his own good despite him trying to act tough and keep up with him.
"Yeah, bud. You can. I'll even help you, if you want. Mommy, too. We'll raise you right."
"Even if I say bad words?"
"Even if you say bad words. Try not to, okay? Mommy doesn't like it. Now go to bed, I don't wanna hear a peep from you in the morning about being tired."
He adjusted the boy's blankets, kissing his nose playfully before standing. He turns on his nightlight and makes sure his stiffed dog toy guarded the door the way he liked.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"You're my hero."
He turns, shocked, the boy already asleep. He stares at the boy, letting out a breath he didn't know he held, eyes watering. Her shakes out his shaking hands, and walks out quietly.
He walks to his and his wife's shared bedroom, swallowing thickly as he slips behind her. She hums, yawning as she woke up enough to mumble his name, noticing his stiffness.
"... I'm a hero."
She blinks up at him, sleepily squinting. She takes in his face expression, reaching for him. He carefully turned her around, scarred hands cupping her back and hips.
DESC.: wife!reader, pregnant!reader, established relationships
Notes: Kind of Hinting towards "Post #12", but not really (bc not the same universe)? But kinda. Mentions of tantrums and jealousy.
Author's Note: The ending doesn't hit the same since some of my progress didn't save. Hope you guys like it, tho. In the "Blurt" universe.
"... bullsh*t."
"Bobbi, please watch your mouth. For the fifth time today."
His mother scolds his sudden declaration, her hands on her widening hips. He doesn't look up at her, his arms crossed as he scrunched up his nose down at his plate of lunch.
Robert raises a brow, quiet as he sips on his drink, waiting for the kid to clap back or to grumble in defeat. He got worried when he did neither, his gaze meeting his wife's.
He leans forward, trying to look at him.
"... Bobbi?"
He doesn't respond, his small hands picking at his food with a sad pout on his face. His wife gently called out to Bobbi, setting down her cleaning rag in concern. She's ignored.
Setting down his cup and his newspaper (her and the team teases him for becoming an old man), he scoots closer to the younger Robert, brushing hair out of his chubby face.
"Hey, Bobbi, what's bullsh*t to you, hm? What's going on in that little brownie head of yours?"
"My head's not a brownie, daddy."
"You're right, it isn't. It's a perfectly shaped sad boy's head... well, counting out your forehead-"
The boy, in no mood, started to grunt in frustration, pushing frantically at his father. The movements were angry, his little face was angry, but he knew better.
This wasn't a regular tantrum.
"Hey, hey, shh,"
He cooed at the boy, letting him push and shove while also trying to bring him into his lap. When he managed to do so, the boy kicks, and smacks, and headbutts at his abdomen.
"Bob..."
"He's fine, sweetheart. I'm fine. Why don't you go sit down for a bit, you've been standing for too long. We'll meet you there."
She jumps as the boy started to scream and squeal on top of his lungs, a hand going to her chest as she was startled. With a bit more coaxing, she walked off to the living room.
When she was safely out of the way, he turns his attention to the boy in his arms. He holds him close, letting him get as much as he could out of his system.
Although his face was blank and unbothered, his heart clenched in worry. He wanted to pry the answers out of the boy, protecting him from whatever emotion he was feeling.
But, that wouldn't do anyone any good.
"It's okay, that's it. Get it out, Bobbi. Put your hurt on me. It's okay,"
He utters soft nothings to the squirming and squealing boy, leaning back in his chair. He kicked, and smacked, and scratched, and squealed until his face turned red.
Then, he suddenly stops, causing Robert to blink down at him. He eyes his tiny face, as if he was catching up to the fact that he was hitting his own father. He looks up at him, and then...
He sobs.
It was a heavy sob, one that made his own eyes water. It was so heavy for a child so small. It was full of guilt, confusion, a mourning of some type. But, it was also apologetic.
He hugs him with a hiccup, sobbing harder. He couldn't get his apology out, too panicked to do anything but cry. He rocks the boy, rubbing his back with slow circles.
"Oh, man, you panic just like your mother."
He utters to himself with a sigh, kissing the boy's hairline before standing. Still in his arms, the boy clings onto him tighter. He shushes him, pacing the kitchen and dining room slowly.
"I'm not going anywhere, bud. I just need you to breathe for me, okay? Deep breaths, nice and big. In the nose, out the mouth."
The boy looks up, pitiful, speaking through his tears. It would make no sense to anyone on the outside. But he raised the little babbler, it's easy to understand any nonsense he speaks.
"Oh, bud, it's okay. No one's mad at you. We know something's wrong."
*More nonsense.*
"You weren't being mean."
*More sniffles and hiccups.*
"Mommy would agree, you're not a mean boy, Bobbi."
*Sobbing and weak gestures.*
"Bobbi, I can handle some tantrum, okay? Daddy's okay, mommy's okay. We're just worried."
This continues for a while, Robert patient as he continues to pace and rub at his son's back slowly. And slowly, fortunately, the boy quiets down and relaxes in his arms.
His face and ears red, eyes puffy as they drooped lowly. His nose was snotty, coughing occasionally to catch his breath. Robert grabs a tissue, gently cupping his nose.
"Blow."
He did without complaint. Robert continued with this, helping the boy clean up before taking him to his mother.
With how worried and emotional she was at the moment (he never called her hormonal after the first time when having Bobbi. He still had the scar), it wouldn't be the best idea for her to see her baby like this.
So, he took him to the bathroom. He helped him clean his face, brush his teeth, and take a warm bath. As he was washing his hair (it was past due), Bobbi speaks up. Raspy but clearly.
"Why am I taking a bath, daddy?"
"Mama likes to call it a reset. You know, starting over. Every time she would cry and get all snotty-nosed, she'd do this and watch cartoons. Isn't it nice?"
The boy said nothing as he thinks about his answer. Eventually, he slowly nods in response. Robert smiled softly, before tilting his head back to rinse out his hair.
Between each step, he would kiss anywhere he could reach. His hairline, his forehead, his nose, his cheeks (and maybe blowing raspberries and biting them teasingly), his little chin.
Knowing that his wife was currently emotional (he would never call her hormonal again after what happened last pregnancy. He still has the scar), he wanted to be sure he was presentable.
About 20 minutes later, he has the boy wrapped in a warm towel, holding him close as he lets the bathtub drain. And before he could get him in his clothes (excluding his underwear), he runs.
Robert laughs softly as he did, grabbing his pajamas and his towel, slowly walking after him. Hearing tiny feet running towards the living room, she looks up, hands cupping her womb.
She smiles softly at the boy, watching him rush in with wet hair and almost naked. Back still wet, he grunts and struggles to climb onto the couch to sit next to her.
"Where're your clothes, baby Robert?"
She doesn't get an answer, the tiny boy hugging her stomach, planting his face in the swollen and stretched skin. She jumps, more in startlement than in pain.
She looks up as Robert walks in with a chuckle. When she repeats her question to her husband, he explains what happened as he sits down so Bobbi was in the middle.
"I don't want a sister who takes stuff from me! I wanna have a sister that plays, and be's a baby, and eats brownies with me, and knows how to sneak snacks from daddy like I do, and-"
The boy continued to rant, no longer caring about not letting his father dry him off. His parents listen patiently, Robert reaching out to dry him off and make sure his hair wasn't damp.
He makes sure he puts lotion on his tiny limbs, managing to slip on pants on the boy before giving up when he didn't cooperate and move. He shakes his head, sighing fondly.
Before Bobbi could make himself dizzy with his ranting (it's happened before), she shushes him. She pulls away slightly to cup at his face and stare at him.
She did that a lot, admiring her little family.
"Bobbi, baby. Deep breaths. Tell mama what you need or how you feel."
"... I don't want you or daddy to like sister more than me."
"Oh, Bobbi,"
"You silly boy."
Both of his parents hold him close that afternoon. No matter how much he protested about his dad kissing him too much or how his mother never seemed to stray too far.
DESC.: mom!reader, wife!reader, pregnant!reader, established relationships
Notes: Waiting your turn at parent-teacher conferences are never fun.
Author's Note: In the same universe as "POST #10".
"Bobbi, stand still."
"I am still, daddy."
"Yeah, right. Because you rocking in circles like an asylum patient is being still."
"I'm not moving from- from my spot! I'm bored!"
"For the love of-"
"Boys."
Both of them instantly quiet down at the woman's sigh. Waiting in the lobby of Bobbi's daycare, the Robertsons' found ways to entertain themselves.
Unfortunately, that meant that the boys constantly picked on each other for said entertainment. Sitting on the floor, between her thighs, Bobbi constantly pouted at his father.
"Mommy. Mo- mommy, get your husband."
"That's a big word for you, isn't it?"
"Fu-"
Before the boy could curse, she pops his mouth. He blinks, covering his mouth, but complies. He wasn't even shocked or saddened by the fact, knowing that it was wrong.
Plus, it wasn't the first time.
A nearby worker eyes them, amused but all the same worried. Robert immediately catches the stare, grinning kindly and waving at the woman.
"Hey. Rough morning."
"It's 3 o'clock, daddy. That's not morning. It's a PM."
His wife sighs, squirming in her seat with a uncomfortable wince. Both Roberts' eyes darting towards here, alert. Robert gently shushes her, helping her get comfortable.
She smiles, a bit strained, reassuring both of them that she was fine. And after 10 minutes, they stop hovering. A kid about Bobbi's age rushed over with a grin.
"Mrs. Robertson, can I play with Bobbi?"
"Sure, honey. If he wants to,"
"Bobbi, you wanna play? My mommy says I can if you want to while we, um, wait-"
"I'm sitting with my mommy. Are you crazy-?"
"Bobbi, go play. I'm fine. Your father's here to help, I promise."
The boy looks up at her, unsure, pouting. She smiles, bending down to kiss his head. He then eyes his father, who snorts and shoos him away with a reassuring smirk.
He grins back, rushing off with a cackle.
She sighs, tiredly leaning on her husband's shoulder. He wraps his arms around her, kissing at her head and forehead. He utters softly against her skin, concerned.
She waves off the concerns, eyes closing as she slumps more into him. He smiles a small smile, continuing to kiss her head, a hand cupping her swollen and tender stomach.
They stay like that for a while before they were called.
Notes: Part 2 to "POST #07", but could be read as a standalone. Aka, Blonde Blazer getting too comfortable.
Author's Note: I might've got carried away. Again.
"Robert? You got a minu-"
"No. Make it quick."
He didn't have time for this. He was late in meeting his wife downstairs, agreeing to take her to lunch for the first time in a while. His day was going good until Blazer walked in.
Despite her shock, she continues.
"Well, I was just going to ask you for your opinion."
"What opinion do you need from me- what the f*ck!?"
He turns around, shielding his eyes. She was in a dress. Not a big deal. But what wasn't normal was the fact that one of her boobs threatened to pop out. This pissed him off, moving past her.
"Your areola is out, Blazer."
"Oh, thanks! Uh, how often do you say areola out loud-"
"I say it to my wife. A lot. Now, you have 10 seconds to tell me what you want, or I swear to-"
"Bobbi, are you ready or wh..."
He turns to see his wife. Her jacket was draped over her arm, a simple but cute outfit on. He remembered buying it for her, insisting that he'd be upset if she didn't wear it.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were talking."
"Baby, you have no idea what you just saved me from. We can talk later."
"Okay, then. Bye, Blazer! Cute dress, but your boob's popping out."
Robert hastily ushered her away, a hand resting on the small of his back, cringing. Once he deemed her walking too slow, he scooped her up, getting a shocked laugh.
He sets her down in the elevator, fixing her clothes and hair in apology. A few more giggles escape her, making him smile softly at the familiar sound. He kisses her gently.
She does the same, fixing his clothes.
"What was that about?"
"You don't wanna know. I don't wanna know. It's a sh*t-"
"Watch your mouth!"
"Ow, sweetheart-!"
----
He comes back from his lunch break with a happy sigh, stretching out his now relaxed shoulders and back. He walked into the conference room, where everyone sat.
Blazer stands up with a frown.
"You're late."
"Yup."
She falters at his casual and uncaring tone. Prism tells her to knock it off, saying something about being happy about him not being so uptight. The others agree, talking loudly.
Robert says nothing, handing everyone their files they were supposed to be reviewing. Thankfully, they took it without any complaint or whine. Blazer tries again.
"Look, I get you have your life outside of this, but we can't afford any distrac-"
"Yeah, I do have a life. And a hot wife that's waiting for me at home. The only distraction here right now is you. Any questions?"
Everyone shakes their heads, talking over one another under their breaths. Blonde Blazer's brows furrow, staring at him as he officially started the meeting. Ignoring her gaze, he nods.
"Good. The quicker we do this, the quicker we can go home. I've got a date,"
----
By the end of the meeting, he dismissed everyone except Chase and Blazer. Mostly because he needed to talk to the older man. But, he needed to clear something up.
Blazer walks up to him, talking about something. He wasn't even listening, glaring lazily as she gets closer. When she went to adjust his clothes, he tightly grabs her wrists.
"Rob-?"
"If you ever try to call my wife a distraction again, I will hurt you. If you ever try to touch me again, I'll hurt you. If you even think that you can waltz up to me with one of your grand ideas, you can forget about it. I don't need your desperate wh*re attitude to make my wife uncomfortable or doubting anything. Keep your hands, t*ts, and any personal questions to yourself. Got it?"
"Geez, Robert,"
He ignores Chase's shocked mumble, his hardened eyes never leaving hers. He lets go of her wrists as he pushed them away. Blazer takes a step back, her face hard to read.
He crosses his arms, leaning forward.
"Do you get it? Do I have to spell it out for you?"
"... no. You don't."
"Good. See you later."
He watches the blonde walk out, rolling his shoulders back, trying to get them loose once more. Hearing a whine, he looks down at Beef with an apologetic smile. He pets him, cooing.
He then turns to a shocked Chase.
"Sorry. What were we talking about?"
----
He picks his wife up at the end of the night. He smiles down at her, cupping her chin and instantly pecking her lips desperately. She looks up at him, concerned.
She kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck. In return, he cups her hips, picking her up and setting her down on the nearest flat surface. She pecks his cold fingers gently.
Note: His wife has a crush on him. Part 2 to "POST #05", but can be read as a standalone.
Author's Notes: Sorry I ended it kind of abruptly. I didn't know what else to put.
"I like you."
He pauses before he could start his bench press, staring at the woman a few feet away from him. He sits up, a grin threatening to escape as he scoffs out a surprised laugh.
"I- it... baby, what?"
"I like you."
"I'd hope so, you did say yes to my proposal a few years back. And you live with me, and hog Beef, and eat my food-"
"You let me."
"I do, sweetheart. You forget to eat, and one of the ways you do eat is if it's from me or my plate."
Her heart fluttered at his soft words, avoiding his gaze to look at something else other than his lovesick eyes. He noticed that? Hopefully, he didn't care.
He smiles, eyes taking her in as usual. He pats his thighs with a small smile, inviting.
"Come here for a sec? I wanna look at you,"
She snorts in shock, before quickly covering her mouth. Why did she do that!? Not discouraged, he gently tugs her forward by her arm. Once she was closer, he sits her down on a thigh.
"Come here, come on- there we go, sweetheart. Just relax."
"Says you."
He chuckles at her shy grumble, placing a kiss on her temple. His lips were cold from the ice water he chugged down, body flush from the previous workouts she watched.
He kisses her head once more, lips never parting from her skin as he spoke, voice full of concern and love.
She doesn't respond for a while, Robert patient as his cold and soft kisses travel all over her face and her closest shoulder. When she does answer, it's quieter than usual and uncertain.
"I... love you. A lot. I'm just wondering how I managed to get you, is all."
His kisses paused for a bit as he takes her words in. His face gaze nothing away, his hands rubbing her thighs and hips as a soothing gesture. He knew his silences made her anxious.
"Managed? You're making it seem like you're opening a can of pickles by yourself or something. Have you seen the way I look at you, bab-?"
"I like you too much and I think you'll get weirded out!"
He falters at her interruption, blinking, silent. She cringed at her outburst, going to apologize when she sees him grin mischievously. Oh, no, here we go.
When she goes to stand and escape the gym, he easily brings her back down to his lap. She groans his name in warning, getting ignored as he pulled her back flush to his chest.
"Oh, really?"
"Robert-"
"Oh, I see what it is. My baby's obsessed with me. Real stalker vibes-?"
"Robertson, I swear-!"
"Oh, you're down bad, baby. A real loser,"
"You know what-!"
"You like-like me!"
He continues his teasing, hands tight on her hips, not letting her go anywhere. As he teases, his earlier kisses continue more dramatically. Eventually he gives her a break, letting up.
At her annoyed glare, he pecks her lips briefly. His honey-brown gaze was soft, making her stomach churn and her heart to beat harder. He kisses her one more time, it longer than the last.
Notes: Robert is faithful as he is pissed at the constant harassment he endures. Invisi slander (just for the fic's sake).
"I had a dream last night that we were f*cking."
He eyes the girl beside him in distaste, humming shortly. He turns back to the mirror, continuing to pick out the glass in his chest. His wife was gonna have a doozy with this one.
"Was it the one where I have a big d*ck in it?"
"Yeah, actually, you did."
"My wife has that one, too. Anything else? Is this why you've been acting weirder and more desperate than usual?"
He said shortly, trying to make it clear that he was tired and over her constant prodding of him and his relationship. He winces at a stubborn shard, cursing softly.
He didn't know what she was going on about anymore. He texted his wife, asking her to meet him by the bathrooms to help him. She had more sturdy hands, smaller too. He loved them.
"See how it feels, how it looks. You know, tailored to my needs."
He pauses at that, looking at her with a tired but pissed look. She was referencing how his wife needed his help in measuring her. Something about tailoring a dress for a work event.
"You were there, in my wife's office?"
"I could've been. I could be anywhere,"
She stands, her face getting closer to his. A wet and nasty sound echoed from one of the stalls, making her pause. A split second later, any closer? He would've bashed her face in the sink.
"And you chose to be here."
He shoves his clenched fists into his pants, mentally reminding himself of what his wife would say. She was much sweeter, less violent in her attempts... not physically, anyway.
Definitely verbally.
Water Boy quickly apologized from inside of his stall, more of the same cold, nasty sounds continuing. He chuckles at the younger man, reassuring him before turning back to Invisigal.
"Bathrooms are for sh*tting after your first coffee and picking shrapnel out of your chest. Not whatever this pathetic attempt is."
"Ugh, you ruined this for me!"
She went to stomp out before he softly called out to her. When she turns, a hand shoots around her throat, it tightening before she could yelp or get anything out.
Slamming her against one of the mirrors, her back pressed painfully against the sink, he stares at her darkly. She heaves and claws at his wrist. He ignored it, leaning in.
"If you ever sneak into my wife's office again, or watch her, or even look at her wrong, your brains will be the next thing Water Boy has to clean up. Got it?"
"You... 're, hu-"
"I'm asking you a question. I don't care about your stupid neck. Am I clear?"
"C... rystal-"
He didn't wait for anything else, dropping her. He watches her gasp for air, coughing painfully before going invisible and running out. He cringes as Herman's noises continue.
"My apologies."
"You're fine, Herm. Sorry for bringing you into that."
"It- it's fine!"
He grabs his shirt and his tweezers when he hears a soft knock on the door. He comes out, face softening at the sight of her. She smiles sweetly at him, confused.
"Everything okay? I thought I saw-"
"Don't worry about it, baby. Everything's fine. Promise."
"Mm... okay. Let's get you to the family bathroom."
DESC.: wife!reader, pregnant!mom!reader, established relationships
Notes: Reader is mentioned to have been a curious child. In the Blurt universe.
Author's Note: Sorry that it's short. I couldn't think of anything else.
"Mommy, what's cheese made out of? And why does it stink sometimes?"
"Milk and other stuff. Mommy's not sure right now, but it's all some type of science."
This was the seventh question for the morning. Meanwhile, Robert was in the shower, most likely falling asleep again before actually washing up.
"What about milk?"
"Milk and stuff."
She heats up prepped breakfasts for everyone, not wanting to hear the man's mouth and how she should be resting all of the time. She's blasted with another question.
"What's flour?"
"Grounded wheat and things like that."
"Um... what's... gly... glycl... gly-"
"I don't know, baby. Something that's found it snacks at the store. It's why mama tries to make a lot at home. I'm not Nara Smith, or anything, but still."
"Who's that?"
"Someone on the internet who has, like, 6 children. Be fruitful and multiply, I guess."
"Oh, okay. Let's see, hm..."
She watched, amused as he read Ingredients off of both an old cereal box, an assorted candy bag, and one of Robert's twinkle boxes. Shaking her head, she turns back to the stove.
She smells him before she feels him, the man wrapping around her body like a lazy snake. Or worm. He mumbles something, his forehead resting on the back of her shoulder.
She leans back, sighing softly, rubbing his forearm as his hands support her heavy womb. He kisses her neck gently, watching his son go on and on about random things.
"Daddy,"
"Hm?"
"Why'd you marry mommy?"
"Because I'm obsessed with her and she said yes."
"Why's that?"
"Why's what?"
"Why'd she say yes?"
"Because she likes losers- ow!"
She swats at his face, still leaned into him. Bobbi cackles a bit at his father's misfortune, going back to finding something else to ask about, face hardening in concentration.
It reminded him of himself and his newspapers.
"You're not a loser, daddy. Just annoy- annoying."
"Thank you, Bobbi."
"You're welcome."
Robert shakes his head, mumbling something about how the boy got the wrong genes from him. He said nothing as he got scolded and swatted at, knowing that it was coming.
"Why aren't you Mecha Man anymore?"
"I'm Mecha Man sometimes, bud,"
"But not all the time!"
"Because I don't feel like it. I like being a dispatcher. Besides, I have you 3, now,"
He finally pulls away from his wife, crouching to peck at her stomach, hands in his hair. He then stands, placing a kiss on his son's head (even if he squirmed and fought like crazy, pouting).
"Why'd you have me?"
"Because we wanted you."
"That's it?"
"Yup."
She places the boy's plate in front of him, grabbing the scattered items on the tabletop in front of him so he could focus on eating. He thanks her with a wide grin, getting a kiss.
She does the same with her husband, making him sit down and eat. When he complained about being late, she just stared before he sat down with a groan. Childish.
"... when's sister coming out?"
"Well, she's supposed to next month. You excited?"
"Yeah! But... how was sister made-?"
"That's enough questions. Eat your food."
Robert's eyes widened instantly, refusing to look up from his plate. And it didn't help that his wife found it hilarious, cackling and leaning on the counter for support.
