♡

II faith trust and pixie dust I| 22, she/they, bi

[bunnvines]

<3

Hi I'm bunnvines ig lol and I go by she/they :)

I'm 22, latina, bi and sometimes I reblog 18+ content so letting yall know.

DNI: map/pedo, sexist, racist, homophobes, disrespectful gross people, men/hj

[wesandresons]

shia labeouf DIE. brad pitt DIE. chris brown DIE. johnny depp DIE. cristiano ronaldo DIE. conor mcgregor DIE. die die die die die die die DIE. every single abuser DIE. if you support them DIE TWICE!

[tankaramo]

me, making a phone call: god i hope they don’t answer

[riacain]

[ceruleanheaven]

[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over

[str4wbsstuff]

Pookie I request,, spit slut Dennis. I am gonna be vague because I know you will run with it.

NOW GO

im going im going!! Im on a bit of a spit kick..me thinks. I think this came out really well, you say slut? I deliver.

warnings: spit and lots of it, drooling, kissing, car make outs. idk man standard mari appropriate grossness.

kissing dennis before you both go up to your shared apartment. right after pulling into the nearly empty parking garage. it was innocent really you just wanted to feel the comforting weight of his mouth on yours. leaning over the scuffed center console to press a quick kiss to his soft pink lips.

“one more?” he requests looking at you, fluttering his lashes and puckering up his lips in question, with a hopeful glint shimmering in his eye. you smile lopsidedly at the cute display, leaning back in to plant another soft one on him.

the second you come back from it he’s already asking for more.

“another?” this time you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer in the passenger seat. resting your elbow on the console to give him a kiss once more, holding it longer than before but not long enough to be salacious. as you go to move back though, he lightly grasps the neckline of your jacket. gripping the soft material before your lips can even fully leave his. fingers flexing down onto the fabric like it’s reflex, not forcing just asking you to stay.

with his lips skimming over yours he looks into your eyes, gaze full of need, holding a deep want that threads through his irises. eyes moving from yours to your mouth every few seconds. unable to focus on either for too long before he’s looking at the other.

“kiss me..again, please”

it’s breathy, desperate even, ghosting over your mouth in a small puff of warmth. wetting his lips he keeps his eyes locked on yours. his plead is granted, adjusting yourself, fingers splaying over the radio to your right. you move closer, lips slotting to his perfectly, they’re slick from his tongue but you don’t mind, you fight the urge to lick it into your mouth.

the minute you settle into it, he whines, lacing his fingers into the fabric of your zip up a little harder. tugging you into him with more force. moving against you with fervor each dip of your head causes him to release a moan. the disconnecting and reconnecting spreading heat from him to you transferring it with ever kiss. every time you or he himself pull away he’s bringing you closer chasing your lips with a groan. you feel it, the wetness from his mouth spreading into yours, the warmth dripping from the seams of your mouths. running down your chin.

his tongue darts out licking over the spit from your lips and taking it back into his. it makes him shudder, the raw heady taste of you on his soft palate. he suppresses a whimper.

coaxing you to open up for him, he tilts his head, pressing closer. the line of your mouth splits but not wide enough, not as much as he needs it to be.

so he moves his hand from your collar to skim up over your cheek. grazing the skin there with his thumb tenderly before he’s digging it into the side of your chin. squeezing your jaw open.

“open—open up for me baby.”

it’s barely audible under the wet noises between the two of you. almost a whisper, muffled as he pushes the words into your waiting mouth along with his tongue.

it’s almost slimy, the warm salvia covering it viscous immediately running from him to you. and you accept it gratefully jaw falling open while he has his way with you. nipping at your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you wince. all the while panting letting little whimpers out into the quiet atmosphere of the car.

his free hand joins the other on your face. pulling you forward by your cheeks until you’re almost bent over the console— that’s doing nothing but getting in the way. it’s wet, all of it is. his mouth, yours, your panties. the way he’s basically feeding his spit to you messily. at one point his hand even dances over your neck, to feel the muscles contract while you swallow down what he gives you.

it’s a mess of desperation and saliva. with your mouth now cracked open he’s free to suck your tongue into his mouth. engulfing your mouth with his, spit slicked lips encasing the tip of the muscle pulling it deeper.

you break away every so often, just to see the webs of saliva branch between the two of you. the feverish kiss even creating bubbles of the liquid as you both gasp and moan pathetically into each other.

“y’taste so good, my god.” he rasps.

drool slips freely down the sides of each respective mouth. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. dennis feels it drip down onto his wrist soaking the material of his sleeve but he could care less. a thin trail making its way down his chin and seeping down his neck. the sloppy nature of it all doing wonders for him, arousal burning under his skin and he needs more. more of you, more of the mess. pulling sway for only a moment to speak.

“shit— c’mere, climb across.”

then immediately dividing back in to capture your lips once more. listening you quickly clamber up over the seats and awkwardly fall into his lap narrowly avoiding hitting your head on the ceiling. his hands never leaving your cheeks, ass resting directly over his bulge, you grind down on him. eliciting a conjoined moan from the both of you.

he finally pulls away, face flushed in the low light overhead. head resting on the seats behind him, a picture of erotism painted across his features. eyes lidded, blinks slow, chin and cheeks smeared with a mixture of your spit and his glisten. chest heaving as he lays his head against his shoulder, blue eyes rolling over you.

licking his lips one of his hands come down gripping your hips to slide you closer. fingers breaching the line of your jacket going under to thumb at your skin. your hands flatten on his chest feeling the erratic pump of his heart beneath his ribcage.

saying nothing the other one reaches behind you to cut the power of the car. the lights going out the moment the key is turned, the low comforting hum of engine now dead. the space encased in an inky darkness. his once visible form now completely obscured in the night. even with your eyes wide open you see nothing, the only sound being the greedy intake of air you both take.

you feel him move closer, adjusting in his seat, arms wrapping around your body to pull you flush to him. noses brushing in the dark, it makes you shiver, every sense heightened as if an blindfold had been placed over your eyes.

suddenly his tongue comes out to lick over your closed lips. his hand moving from your back, over your breast and to the zipper of your hoodie. his words wisp over your now slick ones.

“I don’t think I’ll make it up to the apartment, sorry.”

[graceashcroft-archive-deactivat]

reblog this to manually boop prev

[butterflypeaflowertea]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i was doomed to take things too seriously and think about them forever

[persianmom-deactivated20251026]

sometimes the only closure you will get is knowing that everything you did was done earnestly and out of love

[milanesa42]

“The employees need a larger salary” “hmmmm large celery”

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

Could yall stop shooting each other outside my window im trying to masturbate

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

So this was actually the sound of my car getting stolen

[blingblingtual]

lets all jump klay thompson

[bleghbarbie]

... ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ SPOILED ROTTEN﹕pc !grant reilly ⅋fem reader ᵋ 💭 grant isn’t acting himself after seeing u w ur bf.. ᵌ

suggestive filth. ❥ age gappie. ’s a longer one, i got carried away in these two.. sweet nicknames. slight perverted !grant. he’s unashamedly down bad for u. ❥ whiny !grant. ❥ doesn’t care he’s older.. he likes it. nd so do you ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

grant tossed the spatula onto the marble island, wiping his hands on his waist apron, sporting a narrow brow and stern cheekbones. your own face morphed into a frown upon taking him in. “well i don’t know if you’ve seen beauty and the beast.. but those things have feelings,” you joked, setting your shopping bags down on the counter.

grant scoffed under his breath, “course i have.. movie’s older than you.” he eyed the bags, pushing down his overwhelming want for you to open each one and hold up what you got from the boutiques. and that’s exactly what you went to do after responding, “oh, i thought it recently came out..? well, do you wanna see what i gott,” you dragged the letter out, all giddy, thinking the answer would be yes.

because it always is. this was your guys’ thing. you and the private chef your dad hired became close quickly after only a couple of weeks. funnily enough, you bonded over how different you are. opposite interests. lack of knowledge on what the other knew everything about. he started to become your favorite person. and you had no clue of the pedestal grant had you on. even just as his boss’ daughter, you had so much power over him.

and he sometimes showed it when you two interacted. he’d do anything for you. cook anything at any time, no matter how silly of a request. watched on intently as you showed him your recent purchases. focused diligently when you pattered up to him, holding up two tops, asking which you should wear out. whatever you want, grant wants to be the one to give it.

but you’d never give him what he truly wants deep down. the role he’d be honored to take over that currently belonged to a pompous know it all college boy. you two were dating when grant was hired, but he doesn’t think you’ve been together too long. not long enough to defuse you from being swayed..

his head caught up with your last words, shaking himself from his thoughts and your youthful response, “not the live action, pie.. i’m a little busy with this meal for your father’s meeting, were you going to show me those? because i don’t have the time.”

you didn’t recognize the tone. the straightforwardness. the pie instead of your usual sweetie pie pet name. your hands drooped from the handles of the first bag, tilting your head at him, “really? you’re never usually too busy for me..”

grant shook his head, turning to check on the boiling sauce, fiddling at it with a flimsy spatula. “people get really busy sometimes.. just like you were this morning. all in that guys’ face, couldn’t hear me ask what you wanted for breakfast..” grant let himself grumble out, placing the lid back onto the pan.

your lips twisted to the side on a pout, furrowing your brows to remember what he was referring to. “oh..! him? i wasn’t.. that close to him, we were just..”

grant stopped you short, needing to get his thoughts out before he lost the composure to, “close enough you couldn’t pay attention to the guy just trying to feed you. did he at least get you something to eat when you two left? or did he, but made you pay for the meal just like he let you buy those clothes on your own?”

your pout deepened, getting close to the island to rest your folded arms onto it, leaning in as grant turned back to you after checking on a few other pots and pans, crossing his own arms.

“did you pee in your own cereal this morning? i have the money, he doesn’t have to pay.. why’re you asking these questions? did my dad annoy you or something, because you don’t really have to take it out on me, i can just go to my room and leave you alone..”

“it doesn’t matter if you have it. ’s about being a gentleman,” grant scolded, scratching at the curls at the nape of his neck, sniffing.

you approached the question hesitantly, “..are you.. talking bad about him right now? grant, this isn’t like you..”

“you were my sweet girl first,” he dropped his arms to his sides, letting himself knuckle grip the counter behind him, pushing his body out a bit.

you stilled, eyes turning sad. heart turning sad. “i still am.. nothing changed? was it.. the breakfast thing? i’m sorry i didn’t answer you, i didn’t know..”

“you usually sit with me while you’re eating your breakfast and tell me your plans for the day. i had no clue what you were out there doing, i damn near almost asked your dad but remembered that’s considered inappropriate.”

you slid around the island, coming to stand in front of him. he could barely hold eye contact. looked a little.. flustered. nervous. you’d never see him like this before.. you rested a hand on his flexed bicep, wide eyes staring up at him, “i’m sorry, grant. i honestly would’ve thought you find that all annoying.. chatting your ear off while you’re trying to work,” you let out a soft giggle.

grant shook his head once, eyes focused on your manicured hand that rested so small on his bigger arm, “never. i like hearing all about it. wanna be that person you go to.. just wanna take care of you. be the man that does that for you.”

you let your other hand rise to his opposite arm, gently gripping at the muscles, tiny smile dotting your face, “really? you are that man for me, grant.. you always cook me yummy meals..”

he was shaking his head before you finished, “not just like that. i’ll cook whatever you want, but i’d love more than that.. if you.. sat on my lap while you relayed your plans to me. let me fiddle with the little bow straps on your mini skirt while you talk.. and i promise i’d wash my hands before, i don’t wanna dirty your pretty clothes..”

your breath hitched as you ran your hands further up his arms, resting them on his neck. “yeah? you like my skirts?” you asked softly so as to not startle him. this grown man. who seemed so nervous to tell you his feelings. you. the college girl with the loaded dad who doesn’t have time to cook for himself. too busy making the money you spend everyday.

“mhm.. like ’em on you. make you look so sweet, sugar. ever since your old man hired me, i couldn’t stop thinking about his precious little girl. with the cutest personality ’nd motor mouth telling me about her favorite things..”

you gasped with no sound, nudging him on the arm, “you said you liked that..!”

grant chuckled, nodding, “i do, i do.. i like you. am i.. is this too much..? i jus.. you bring out this caretaker side of me. suppose ’s why i got into personal cheffing. wanna take care of someone.. and then you came along, sweet one. gave this old man the urge to serve a pretty young thing..”

your raised eyebrow asked the nonverbal question. grant slowly shook his head, “’m not talking about the food. i wanna help you into your little shirts.. gives me an excuse to touch you.. learn your pretty parts. which ones are achy, which ones you need me to soothe.. i think i’m desperate for it.”

your tummy fluttered at his provocative words. you truly didn’t notice..

your fingers found their way to the spot of hair grant was scratching at earlier, running your fingers through it. “that’s so sweet.. sorry, is it okay i’m touching you?”

“yes,” his response was breathy like he was holding his breath, waiting for permission to say something about it.

he rested his hands on your hips, tugging you softly into him, roaming his fingers to the little straps of your skirt. his face scrunched into a look of frustration, “that.. that boyfriend of yours.. i don’t get it. ’m older. i know more. i cook for you, listen to you, not him. i have more experience. does he touch you like this?” grant leaned down to your mouth, his little needy puffs of breath touching your lips, “you have to say something before i keep going, sweetie pie. i can’t be professional grant right now. not with you.”

you nodded softly, pouting up at him. he was mush in your hands. willingly. and you weren’t expecting it. sure, you found the older man attractive. had thoughts.. but you didn’t expect this. didn’t expect to like hearing him talk about you this much..

“keep going,” you encouraged on a whisper, staring into his puppy eyes. gosh, he was gone for you..

his eyes turned stern, eyebrows flexing, body tensing with want. “i like that i’m a father figure to you. that i’m old enough to actually be.. but dads can’t think the way i do.. i dream about fucking you over the island. going slow, gentle with you. because my sweet girl deserves nothing but gentle. i think about us sneaking into your room and letting you do whatever you want with me.. show me what you need. getting to my knees and seeing if you taste just as sweet as i imagine. making you leave the skirt on.. only the skirt while you ride me. take from me all you want. i was yours before i shook your dad’s hand to seal the deal.”

your fingers stilled, your head all buzzy. you didn’t know grant was so.. dirty mouthed. this clean, pristine chef.. getting all dirty with you. you wanted.. you wanted that. badly. you didn’t know how much you’ve been craving that. that grant was right here..

you teetered on your feet, thighs rubbing, “grant, what if one of my.. parts are achy right now? what do i do?” you panicked. your boyfriend never made you feel like this. grant was right. all you needed was your father figure..

his eyes softened, one hand sliding to the front of your skirt, only skidding along the outskirts. “is it here? you have to tell me, peach.”

you nodded on a stutter, eyes suddenly scared and welling, “my dad’ll be back soon with his business men.. we can’t..”

“sweetheart, i’d fuck this ache out of you in front of your dad right before he fired me if it was the only chance i had with you.. do you wanna go up to your room for a second while i finish up here? i’ll be right there after i serve everything ’nd clean up.. can you do that for me?”

you bit your lip, softly nodding, “yes, chef..”

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Can i request something with shy nurse fem!reader and Emery Walsh that is really mean to her and bossy but reader i lowkey into it

Right Where You Want To Be || Emery Walsh x fem! reader

Summary: your shyness makes you an easy target for Emery's attitude, not that you seem to mind

Warnings/contains: nurse! reader, Emery is really mean and bossy to reader (she's into it though lowkey), canon typical references to medical procedures, swearing, tension due to a brief misunderstanding (it's resolved fairly quickly), a few masochism jokes

Beginning notes: absolutely you can, I love love love this idea so much!! and thank you tons for the emery request shes SO underrated and i love her dearly 💕 (hopefully she isn't ooc any here 🤧)

"You're not moving fast enough," the voice of Dr. Emery Walsh spoke in a sharp manner as you tended to your patient after a stressful but relatively quick surgery that yielded positive results. "Thank God we're not racing against the clock right now."

"Sorry," you replied in a meek and mild-mannered way, keeping your head down as you adjusted the IV bags hanging by the patient's bed. You could feel the eyes of the doctor watching you like a hawk as you meticulously went over everything you needed to, a mental checklist getting crossed off in your mind with each item that got cleared as being a-okay.

"Hmph." It was pretty obvious just how unimpressed she was, arms folded over her chest as she stood there with a stony-faced expression. "Well, whenever you decide to finish, make sure you try to contact the person's family. Assuming the task isn't too difficult for you, of course," she remarked, the sarcasm rolling off her tongue as easy as breathing. "After you're done with that, come find me. I have another job for you." With that, she left, probably stalking off to find another person to direct her snide comments toward.

Other people would've been offended or hurt, but you only felt giddy when she spoke to you in such a manner. Your heart would start racing, your face would begin to heat up, and you'd become much shyer than usual. Something about being chewed out by Dr. Walsh specifically did things to you. It made your stomach twist in a funny way that said it wasn't apprehension making your palms sweat, but rather infatuation instead.

Besides that, you knew in general not to take it personally. She was always especially prickly towards the end of a long shift, her sarcasm much more biting and her snark coming out with a sharper edge to it.

You finished settling the patient in to their room so they could rest after surgery and turned your attention to contacting the family, wanting to give them an update on how everything was going. Despite no longer being as close as she was before, you could sense the calculating gaze of Emery coming from somewhere nearby, already able to envision the way she no doubt stood with her hands resting so casually on her hips as she observed her surroundings with that resting bitch face she was so well known for.

It wasn't very difficult to figure out where she'd gone due to the several feet of empty space that surrounded her on all sides from those trying to avoid invoking her wrath by staying away from her, like an invisible bubble that most didn't dare to penetrate. Except for you, that is.

"Dr. Walsh?" Your voice was soft and a little uncertain, your eyes averted from looking at her directly. "I finished with my patient, and I made sure to contact their family also. Did you need me for something?"

"Yes," she bluntly replied, already beginning to walk away in a manner that you knew meant you were to follow after. She led you to a room where another patient was being prepped for operation and immediately began to instruct you on what to do, barking out orders like she was the captain of a dingy ship and everyone else were mere crewmates.

You obeyed her commands without question, stealing a bashful glance over at her every now and then when she wasn't looking. You hoped to God she didn't notice, but it was much more likely that she did and just hadn't said anything yet.

There was a stressful energy in the room that came from so many doctors and nurses working together in close quarters for such long hours with very limited break time, and it made Emery bossier than usual. Her tone was borderline condescending, especially when her words were geared towards you. It made you feel lightheaded with joy.

The attending, on the other hand, wasn't taking her behavior as in-stride as you seemed to be. Jack's brow was furrowed in displeasure as he watched and listened to the way she berated you, evidently not liking what he saw.

After the surgery, you were assisting the other nurses when Dr. Abbot asked for a word with Dr. Walsh, a private one at that. Uh-oh. That couldn't be anything good.

Perlah and Princess shared an almost knowing look with one another and spoke in a language you didn't understand, though you didn't have to be a translator in order to be aware that they were most likely gossiping about the two doctors in question. Your brow furrowed in visible confusion, however, when they both kept glancing over at you specifically. It would seem as though you were also a part of the drama.

It was like a volcano erupting when Emery stormed back in, hands balled up into fists as she practically vibrated with barely restrained frustration. "You." She hissed, nodding in your direction. "A word. Now."

Your eyes widened in a mix of fear and delight. Of course, you weren't exactly thrilled at the idea of your favorite doctor being mad at you, but something about her anger seemed to make your knees go weak in the best way possible. This was a fact that couldn't be hidden from your fellow nurses, who were now speaking in hushed whispers in that same language from earlier.

You were led to a private hallway where Emery began to pace in a small area, as though it were her own attempt at reigning herself back in. "Did you say something about my conduct towards you?" She spoke up sudden, voice blunt and demanding, allowing no room for any sort of lies.

Her eyes bore into you, and for once you were actually a little startled by her behavior. "N- No! I- I never said anything like that," you insisted while shaking your head frantically, keeping your gaze focused down on your shoes. You were both quiet for a moment before you dared to speak up again, your voice slightly timid. "…is- is this about what Dr. Abbot said?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes so hard you were afraid they'd disappear into her skull completely. "Oh, yes. Him. Apparently, he seems to think that I'm abusing my position by treating you so poorly," she openly mocked, crossing her arms over her chest as she stopped pacing. "I said you didn't seem to have a problem with it, but of course he insisted that even if you did, you'd never bring it up because you're just so soft and fragile, poor thing."

"I don't have a problem with it," you blurted without thinking, unable to stop yourself. You felt your face begin to burn when her gaze snapped back to you from where she'd been previously glaring at the wall, realizing you probably should've thought out your words first; but you just couldn't help it. You couldn't stand to see her so worked up over a small miscommunication like this. "I- I mean- what I mean to say is- is it doesn't hurt my feelings, or anything like that. It- It doesn't upset me, it doesn't bother me any. I promise. I'm- I'm fine."

It was hard to tell what the doctor was thinking as she was unusually quiet, almost contemplative at the revelation of your words. When she finally gave a response, it was one completely unexpected. "Well, yeah. That's what I figured, otherwise you'd be hiding from me and crying in the bathroom after every one of our interactions."

Emery smirked at the look on your face, appearing amused by the way you so openly gaped at her. "What? I'm not stupid, y'know. I figured for you to put up with so much of my shit without any form of protest or cry for help, you must be some sort of masochist or something."

"I'm- I'm not a masochist," you defensively muttered under your breath in turn, pouting slightly at the way she thought of you. "I- I just-"

"'You just', what, hm?" She took a step closer, her smirk widening as she observed your nervousness with a strange look of fascination, like a lion that was having fun with antagonizing the bunny that was meant to be its prey. At the very least, she didn't look as though she was close to blowing a gasket anymore, which was certainly a good thing.

"I-" you swallowed thickly, knowing there was no way to avoid it now. You didn't want to have to actually say it, but it didn't seem as though you had much of a choice. "I don't mind if someone is mean to me if that person is you."

Her head tilted off to the side as she took you in: your fidgety hands, your averted gaze, your nervous demeanor as a whole. It was cute. No, scratch that- it was beyond cute. It was adorable.

"You're lucky I find this whole perverted masochist act of yours so charming," Emery mused with an exasperated sigh, watching you in a manner that was almost fond. "But then again, no one else can seem to handle me so well at my worst, so I suppose I'll just have to take what I can get."

You opened your mouth to speak, to protest- but she was right, and you both knew it. Plus, she'd already started to walk away, leaving you with being forced to scurry to catch up with her.

"I'll tell you what, you keep making things easier for me and I'll buy you a drink once we get out of this mess," she offhandedly promised, pretending not to care about what your response was despite the fact that she was waiting for it rather intently.

She felt smug when you nodded your head eagerly and without a word, simply watching as she grabbed a patient file; she then began to bark a fresh set of orders at you, unrestrained and without mercy per usual. Clearly Abbot didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, because you were exactly where you wanted to be, and pretty damn happy about it too.

End notes: I really enjoy how this turned out but if this isn't what you had in mind dear anon then I apologize 😔 I tend to just go with wherever my brain takes me when I write stuff

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[itsapmseymour]

They got new photos of the moon,

I knew she had colors hiding in there 🥹

[doctoralhashimi]

not a single appropriate thought

[murdrdocs]

she/her pronouns used; reader referred to as a woman; perv!robby kinda MDNI 18+

robby's perverted crush on abbot's wife ...

he comes over for dinner with you two sometimes. very, very rarely because it's impossible for his and jacks schedules to align. but when he is over, he feels so at home. it's almost ridiculous how comfortable he feels. he sits at the table, takes whatever wine you give him (he doesn't want to be difficult), compliments the shared meal you and jack made, answers your kind hearted questions. all while trying to ignore the stirring he gets low in his belly when you make eye contact with him. he feels like a schoolboy with a crush. he feels nurtured, almost.

his ears start to perk up at any mention of you from abbot. it's as if jack is talking about robby's favorite celebrity—that's the feeling he gets. a jump of excitement in his chest, a rush of dopamine to his brain that almost scrubs away the stress and horrors of the shift he'd experienced.

he stares a little too long at the facebook photos jack posted of you for your anniversary. he has jack's wallpaper photo of you engrained in his mind at this point. it was taken during a vacation you and jack took to some tropical place that robby can't remember, but he does remember the powder blue low cut dress you were wearing in the picture as you grinned at abbot from across the white-clothed table.

and when robby comes over for dinner at you and jack's house one day—without jack—you're wearing that same dress. robby is only there on jack's orders. before robby left for the night, jack told him that you made too big of a meal, and you insisted that you shared it with someone.

(robby couldn't tell from jack's wording if you meant someone as in anyone who wanted, or someone as in him)

you sit on the couch this time, since it's just you and robby. robby carried the bowls on the way there, you carried the wine glasses, and when you sat them on the coffee table, you were facing robby. your dress gaped around your chest, and robby swears, on everything holy, that he got a peek.

his eyes averted up to the ceiling and that schoolboy-ish feeling returned to him.

the feeling multiplied when you bent down again after dinner to grab the discarded bowls from the coffee table before taking them to the kitchen. robby tried so hard not to stare at your ass, and he would've succeeded if you hadn't called his name just before you stood up.

"you're welcome to sleep here if you want," you said, sweet and innocent like the kind woman that you were. "the guest room is clean and there's a shower waiting for you. i know jack won't mind."

and robby considered it. not only because he's been dead on his feet since this afternoon and he didn't have anything left in him to get himself home, but also because he wanted another excuse to be near you. he wanted to smell the detergent on the guest bedroom sheets and imagine that he was laying in your bed (you and jack's bed, he remembered). he wanted to look further into your home, since he'd only seen the lower level and the backyard thus far. jack told him not long ago that he let you have the reigns when it came to decorating, and robby wanted to know what your taste was like.

he wanted to know what pajamas you wore before bed. he wanted to know if you woke up early or late. robby wanted to know. and that's the biggest problem.

he followed you into the kitchen with the wine glasses and sat them into the sink. for a moment, he stood directly beside you, and he got a whiff of what you smelled like.

sweet, soft, a scent that was so uniquely you and robby knew that if he ever were to smell it again, he would easily get addicted to it.

"i appreciate the offer, really," he smiled in a way that he hoped was appreciative. "but if i stay here i might get too comfy and not make it in in the morning."

you laughed with him and for some reason, a rush of guilt came to robby. he suddenly became very aware of the situation he was in. having had dinner with his friend's wife, in his friend's house, making his friend's wife laugh while he did nothing but ogle at her.

robby needed to get out.

when he got home, it took everything in him not to let scenarios of you enter his tired mind as he doze off.

he woke up in the morning with the feeling that he knew you were in his dream, but no memory of what the dream entailed at all.