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tropes-and-tales · 9 months

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Good Girl

Day 2: Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2996

AN: This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you. Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy. He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it. Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer. Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits. Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single. The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up. The little touches you chance: brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in. The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness. In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them. “C’mon. It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested. You gotta be blatant with him. He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?” Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation. Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless. “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse. I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again. “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us. I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck: you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you. Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside. You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot. You square your shoulders. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll be the brave one.” A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath. “And you’re sure he likes me? You aren’t misreading this somehow? I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.

“Ah, kid, he loves you. You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life. Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster. You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear. “I was going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant. “Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna go? C’mon.” You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance.

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave. The former tips you a knowing wink. The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks. He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit. It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice. You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it. He seems comfortable just to be himself: quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.

Case in point: you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one. Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy. If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.

“Same,” you reply. “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles. “I do,” you admit. “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent. He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.” It comes out curt, two quick syllables. A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement. Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night. You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there. The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off. “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob. “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath. If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward. Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby. Honestly. I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…” You trail off, lose your words like an idiot. You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely. You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses: gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant. His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy. Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through. “I know, honey. Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you. You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not. Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find. You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come. You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you. You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too. He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh. He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down. You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin. “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease. You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you. He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.” His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip. “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out. You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space. At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you. His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much: the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts. Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets. It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks. His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw. He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin. You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair. You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed. You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.” He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat. “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter. You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid. No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you. A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank: yes, you want to be his good girl. Yes, you want to come for him. Whatever he wants. Anything he wants. Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him. “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can. Yes, yes. Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you: you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge. You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over. His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it. “My good, sweet girl. Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him. Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair. “Good girl. So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes. Only for you, Bobby.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #tropes and tales #kinktober 2023

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laurfilijames · 2 months

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MY MAN!

I was tagged by @red-orchid and @justreblogginfics to give four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !!

(That is not the only thing they have me yelling)

I'm sure this won't be at all surprising to you.

No pressure tags for @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @itspdameronthings @stealfromthedevil @navybrat817 @maggiemayhemnj @ramadiiiisme @middleearthpixie @sotwk and absolutely anyone else who wants to play and proudly show off their MEN 💗

#tag game #pete dunham #will miller #jay mills #jax teller #I'm married to all of them #charlie hunnam characters

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drabbles-mc · 1 month

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Hey! Hope you’re doing well!

I have a totally random question for you 😂 It’s been brought to my attention from my sister that because of my build I should get into weight lifting/strength training (my cousin and I have the same build apparently and he does weight lifting, all I know is I have broad shoulders 😆). And I’ve been considering doing it during the summer, I think I could do it and modify it because if I exert too much I trigger a migraine attack. Anyway, I know that you do boxing, but I was wondering if you’d have any advice or tips for it if you know of anything for/about it? If not that’s totally fine, just thought I’d ask anyway!

And I know this is totally not like my usual asks, but I was trying to figure out if I knew anyone and I was like, “Oh hey, I think I do!” 🤣

Hope you have, and are having, a great day!

omg hi!!! i read this the other day when you sent it and i was like, "I'm gonna wait till i get home to answer it so i can give a Real Response" but then life kept happening so I'm just now getting to it. so sorry 😅😅😅

but!! in response to your question! i went through a stint for a while when i was lifting. not in a serious or competitive way at all- i just got into it because my friends at the boxing gym also started lifting lol.

depending on if you're planning on lifting at home or going to a gym, there are different tools at your disposal. however that being said, you can really do so much for your body in terms of lifting with just strictly using dumbbells and kettlebells. all the machines at the gym are obviously very cool and helpful (once you learn and get comfortable using them) but some of my best workouts came just from using free weights and sometimes the bar for squats and the occasional bench press. and also there are a lot of weight-lifting movements that are multiple moves in one, so i would recommend learning singular movements and getting the form down well before stitching them together to make longer more compound movements. good form > high weights or high reps all day

i know you mentioned not wanting to over-exert and potentially trigger a migraine attack. definitely be mindful of that, and also as you get started i would definitely be cautious of figuring out what your starting weights for things would be, especially if lifting isn't something that you've done a whole lot of before! i personally have a bad habit of coming back to lifting after a long time of not doing it and doing too much and then hating myself the next day or three so don't be like me lmao

another good thing that might help keep things controlled is rather than focusing on constantly trying to lift more and more weight, focusing on just slower more controlled movements. working on slower motions, and/or the 'negative' motion (like very slowly doing down for a squat rather than focusing on the push back up) have also been some of the ways i keep some semblance of balance and control over my workouts for that.

and also, active recovery is definitely your friend! as much as i love to laze around, especially if I'm sore the day or two after a tough workout, i know that it's much better to do some type of movement to help keep my muscles active and shorten the time that I'm sore. just walking or stretching, doesn't have to be anything crazy. and lots of water too ofc

sorry i feel like this was a long ramble 😂 boxing is my main wheelhouse but i do dabble with weights every now and again haha. if you ever have other questions or wanna talk about it please feel free to pop in! i love chatting about this stuff 💖

#ask #asks #justreblogginfics

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garbinge · 1 year

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Hey! I have been so behind on reading your new fics and your fics for The Bear that I finally read ARE SO GOOD!!!

I love how you’re writing Richie, he’s my favorite character from the show (I have a huge thing for Jon Bernthal but he’s hardly in the show for understandable reasons but enough about him, haha I’m praising Richie right now 😆) and I truly love your take on him and his personality, it’s so awesome to see and read! His relationship with the reader and it’s progression has been so lovely to read, the comfort and support and the sound minds they are for each other; I’m excited for more with them because they’re honestly so cute together and so good for each other.

Your fics have really pumped me up for the next season, I have to rewatch it now 😂

OMG idk how i never saw this!!!!! Thank you SOOOOO much. That series has been one of my favorites to write everrrrr. Richie is my favorite character and I really hope we get so much more of him in s2!!!! Have you seen the trailer yet?!?!

I have more of this little story coming out soon! The next part is just a carmy x platonic!reader but i promise i have so much planned for reader and richie!!!

thank you again <3

#justreblogginfics #ask #garbinge

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sillyrabbit81 · 5 months

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Drop this sunflower 🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! Let's spread a little sunshine ☀️

Thank you very much for thinking of me!!! I hope you have an amazing day 🌻

❤️ Rabbit

#ask sillyrabbit81 #justreblogginfics

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kindahoping4forever · 1 year

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For some reason I really love ask games and I get super excited when I see one happening 😆 I have no idea why though! 😂

Okay, question time:

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

Hope you have a good day!!!

I think ask games are so fun too! It's a fun excuse for us all to interact with each other and it's so interesting seeing different people's viewpoints on the same topics! I wish they went around more often tbh, it's a good time. 😁

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

In retrospect, I wish I would've spaced those last two Encore fics out a bit more because I feel like the Halloween chapter, Wild Horses Couldn't Drag Me Away, got overshadowed. And I get it! It's on me, releasing two 12k fics a day apart was asking a lot of people lmao and it makes sense that the Christmas one generated more interaction because it was the finale of sorts, holiday fic generally does pretty well, and (spoiler) it had the "I love you" scene everyone had been waiting a year for. But I wished Wild Horses would've had a little bit more of a moment - I think it's really fun and funny, shows some interesting growth within their relationship and I worked really hard to give the smut the right balance between unhinged filth and loving exploration. (Somehow I'd never written bondage before! I did research! 😂) It found a bit more of an audience on AO3 than on here but I still haven't heard much feedback about it on either platform.

🕯️How do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

It's interesting because I am really not a people person at all but I joined Tumblr primarily to engage with fellow fans. I was enjoying fangirl life on my own but I knew it'd be so much more fun to experience that with other people, whether it was through direct correspondence or just scrolling my dash, reading everyone screaming about the same things and relating to the different reactions. And it took a while for me to engage with other people! To be honest, the Tumblr fandom wasn't quite as tight-knit or welcoming back then as it is now (we all kind of have our own lil zones we hang out in but I feel like we kind of recognize or are generally familiar with most people?) and I lowkey got brushed off by the first few people I tried to befriend but somehow I stuck it out and I couldn't be more happy that I did because I can say wholeheartedly that some of the best, most gratifying friendships I've had in my whole life have been in this fandom on Tumblr. As for the broader "fandom experience", I think engaging with each other and having discussions, whether it be about our art or just our opinions is a key component. Being a part of a fandom is to be a part of the community and it's always encouraging to feel seen and understood by a peer. To seek out and be found by kindred spirits is why I'm here and everyday I'm thankful I made that choice. 🙂

Let’s chat! Writer Asks

#thank you for the questions!#like i said i love these - i'm glad to hear you do too!!#ask #justreblogginfics #real writer asks #kh4f writing

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bullet-prooflove · 24 days

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I feel like the Thursday western prompt 3 “stealing kisses at the break of dawn” would be really great for frank castle. I hope you think so too!

Tagging: @beardedbarba @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @pleasurebuttonwrites @Est1887

Frank Castle is in love with you. He realises that when he almost breaks his neck climbing up your fire escape at four in the morning because he hasn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. The sun is just starting to come up, the orange rays casting a pretty glow across your sleeping form as you lay tangled up in the sheets in nothing but your NYPD academy t-shirt and a pair of his socks.

It frightens him how much he misses you when you’re apart. You consume this thoughts, his dreams. He’s tried quitting you a couple of times but it never seems to stick.

You stir when he climbs into bed alongside you. His heated skin pressing against yours as he tucks the quilt around the both of you, gathering you up close.

“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you again.” You mumble as his thumb traces over the curve of your cheek.

He laughs then, it’s a raw, content sound that emits from the very depths of his chest. He still has the scar from the first time you shot him, he’d climbed through your bedroom window just like tonight.

“Does it count if it was a graze?” He teases, his lips brushing over yours and every single thought you have falls out of your head because the sensation of being with this man, it’s all that matters in this moment.

“I’ll use my key next time.” He promises as his thumb traces over the shape of your mouth. “I’m still not used to having a home just yet.”

Love Frank? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #marvel

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anna-hawk · 5 months

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Drop this sunflower 🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! Let's spread a little sunshine ☀️

😊😊😊😊 Thank you, Becca 🧡🧡 Glad that my mess of reblogs and fics brings you joy.

#justreblogginfics #asked and answered #🧡🧡🧡

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musings-of-a-rose · 10 months

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Ask: The Movies

Ask from @twinklestarslight: Okay I have a good idea, For Robbie x Reader I was thinking where the reader and Robbie got into a huge argument where the reader was taking Gabe to see a movie and Gabe didn’t mention that to his brother so Robbie found out by driving by and he was so mad and it was at nighttime. Slight Angst but fluff at the end.

Pairing: Robbie Reyes x f! Reader

Word Count: 500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Robbie Reyes Masterlist

"That car chase was terrible!" Gabe laughs as I hold open the door for him, moving into the living area of his house.

"I don't know who designed it, but it was definitely not a person who knows what they're doing."

"You got that right. It was so bad I-"

I flip the light switch, illuminating the room and about jump out of my skin.

"Robbie!" I press my hand to my chest as I look at my boyfriend sitting in a chair. "You scared me! What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?"

I blink. "Uh..walking into the house?"

"Where have you been?"

Gabe moves into the room behind me. "Chill. We went to the movies."

Robbie's eyes narrow as they slide from me to Gabe. "The movies."

"Yeah. Didn't think it would be such a big deal," I say, tossing my purse onto the counter. "What's your problem?"

"My problem is I come home and no one's here. No one answers their phone. Then I go out driving and see your car at the movies like it's no big deal."

"You knew we were going."

Robbie shakes his head. "I didn't. I just know you were gone and I thought something might have happened…"

I spin on Gabe. "You said you told him earlier!"

Gabe smacks his head. "I totally forgot!"

I turn back to Robbie. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't think it would be an issue to take him and I thought you knew."

Robbie takes a breath. "It's not. It… you can take him to the movies. I just came home and the house was dark, no one home, no note. I thought maybe…maybe someone had kidnapped you guys."

"Oh Robbie. I'm so sorry!" I walk over and pull him into a hug.

"I'm sorry too," Gabe says genuinely.

"Just next time, warn me."

"You got it, baby." I run my nails over his head and he grunts.

"I will warn you not to see Heist Car 3. It was terrible."

"Sounds terrible… let's go grab some pizza."

—----

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