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thalwri · 3 months ago

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TEACH ME SIR! pt. ii

part i!

STARRING: art professor!rafayel x art student!reader

synopsis: after the supply closet incident, finishing your final assignment wasn’t easy. but at least you reaped a good reward in the end.

warnings: porn with plot, all characters are aged up (and in university), fem!masturbation, listening to an unintentional sex tape, overstimulation, public sex, beach sex, fingering, oral (m!rec), body worship, dirty talk, pussy slapping (once!), cum eating (technically), creampies, underwater sex, overstimulation (again).

wc: 8,7k

a/n: forgive the delay, uni has been at my neck these past few weeks so i wanted to take the time to make this really good for you guys. hope you enjoy part 2!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

you hadn’t slept.

not because of the final practical you had to hand over in three days time, not because of the submissions you’ve already see (which were phenomenal), but because of him.

your hands were stained with dried clay– you’d made countless attempts to wash it off and try again until you realised it was too futile. you’d end up thinking about rafayel again.

you’d end up thinking about what happened in the supply room two days ago.

every. single. fucking. time.

your mind was clouded in a buzz. your body was vibrating. your hands were shaking. you couldn’t even will yourself to touch the clay in fear that you’d mess up the progress you had already put countless hours into.

you had mastered– you had hoped you did– rafayel’s face almost to the exact image of him. from the shape of his lips, to the height of his jawline, to the moles you indented into his face, everything.

and that just made it so much worse.

you could see him blushing before he kissed you. his eyes slowly rising to meet your gaze. the unmistakable lust that choked up that cramped room to the point where you could only smell each other.

you had wanted him. and you failed to force that desire down your throat. in fact, it just sunk down to your pussy and pooled there waiting for him to consume you.

and he almost did. he was so close. his lips pulled at your now wet underwear, teasing your clit with his drooling tongue as if a mere piece of fabric meant nothing to his desire to taste you.

his cock was rock hard. his body was like a fire. his voice was hypnotic. but the memory wasn’t enough.

fumbling through your phone with your nerves trembling right to your fingers, you found the voice note you had recorded. you had forgotten it was still ongoing even after rafayel had left. you were left in shambles, panting and huffing out moans of shock and despair. you needed more of him.

your finger hesitantly hovered above the button to play the audio. what were you thinking? it was wrong. not only was it illegal considering you were going to use it as blackmail, it was corrupted with the most lewd experience you had gone through to date. none of your previous lovers could contest the impact rafayel left on you.

the effect he had on your mind. you couldn’t let it remain a memory.

without another doubtful thought, you quickly tapped the screen and pushed your phone away from you. his voice immediately flowed into your ears through the earphones, silencing every other noise in the private studio.

“where were you?”

your eyes fluttered shut, visualising the state he was in. shirt unbuttoned, chest heaving up and down, veins pulsating from his forearms to his wrists. his voice had a rasp to it, roughening out each syllable with unprecedented anger. almost like he missed you and your absence pissed him off.

your voices clashed in argument in the playback, waves of spiteful satisfaction resonated in you. at least you reminded him that you still had the backbone to fight back. then the pause came in, slowly raising your pulse. you could feel the tension rising as if you were witnessing it for the first time.

“you think i’m pretty?”

your legs pressed together, thighs rubbing almost instantly. you couldn’t fold that easily. you had already lost your grip. you couldn’t do it again. you felt for the edge of the table and gripped on it hard, afraid that if you moved your hands would fly to tend to your sobbing pussy.

“say it again.”

you almost did too. jolts of unanswered arousal pooled from your core all the way up to your throat. a gust of air was caught in your throat, your chest began to tighten. it was becoming too much to hold yourself. but you had to. just a little longer.

he laughed right down to your heart. his lips drew in a slow, deliberate breath before his next words came in a sultry whisper. “say it.”

“make me.”

you groaned into your hand, so vividly seeing the remnants of your sinful interaction you wouldn’t be surprised if that alone made you cum.

sounds of your lips colliding with sharp breaths shot shivers down your spine like a bullet. a soft moan escaped your lips, the rubbing of your thighs stimulating your clit ceased to allow your legs to spread wide open as you leaned back on your chair.

your hand crept down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to grant you access to your heated core. your fingers tenderly brushed over your sensitive bud and instantly brought out a pleasured response from it. your wetness somehow leaked from you even more just from a single touch.

the hushed breaths, wet kisses and soft moans filled your ears just like how you’d idealised his cum stuffing your needy pussy. your fingers delicately wandered around your swollen clit and eventually pressed down over the hood, rubbing it in cruel circles.

you sucked in your gasp as you fell deeper and deeper into the memory accompanied by the audible reminder of your mischief yet justified vice. your back curved into an arch, fingers rubbing faster and faster until your poor cunt was squelching from neglect and completely overwhelmed by your wetness that it soaked past your clothing onto the chair beneath you.

shudders and shivers brought your body to a shameless tremble– your legs pounced on the leg of the chair, struggling to maintain what drop was left of your composure. the joint melody of your moans and his lips smacking your skin sent you into a drunken frenzy.

you could still taste him in your mouth, you could still feel his hands all over your body ghosting your skin in a layer of unabashed desire.

“want to eat you,” his voice whispered. “taste you.” fucking hell, you were gone. a loud cry slipped out of your lips as your fingers finally answered your body’s call and plunged right into your pussy.

your lips curved into a ferocious grin, your fingers wasted no time to cruelly curve and push deeper and deeper into you. your gummy walls clenched around your fingers but it didn’t feel the same. it couldn’t resemble what he could do. how deep rafayel’s could go.

how much deeper it could have gone.

you leaned back on your chair to give your hands more access to your weeping hole. you were so warm and wet– it’s no wonder rafayel lost his mind so quickly. your fingers slowly pumped deeper and deeper into you as far as they could go. one more slipped in, stretching you wider and a pitched whimper broke the silence in the studio. your pussy squelched and cried in arousal, practically begging you to move faster.

but your sick mind couldn’t help but relish in the thought of holding yourself back just enough for your legs to twitch and shake.

the audio had long ended and continued in an endless loop, repeating the hushed whispers, his laughs, the wet smacks of your lips, the amalgam of your lewd noises… fuck.

again and again, your body shook at the precipice of your climax and yet you held back, keeping your wits sharp and your sensitivity even sharper. your fingers curled and thrusted deep into your cunny as far as it could. usually it was enough to push you over but ever since rafayel? your fingers were null and void compared to those smooth, rude fingers.

your legs spread wide apart, back arching to the overwhelming stimulation, moans literally hitching into slutty whimpers. the shadows of his touch burned your flesh driving you half insane.

“f-fuck–“ the way his clothed length pressed against you, hard and hot was so deliciously sexy you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d feel inside you.

first in your salivating mouth, still hot and intoxicated in his taste, so you could taste his cum shoot right down your throat. then all over your chest and face after he fucked your tits. then slowly and eventually deep inside you, stuffing you to the absolute brim.

your head tilted far back over the chair as the pleasure bundled itself like a bursting supernova, throwing you into an endless abyss for you to drown and relish in the memory of his touch. the memory of his taste. the memory of your desire for him.

waves of ebbing pleasure vibrated into your bones. but it wasn’t enough.

you rocked your hips slowly against your palm, shivering from the aftershocks of your recent orgasm, needy for a special someone’s touch to replace your own. disrespectful, lewd, arousing whispers of his voice laced with your own ran into your ears in a continuous loop. you could listen to that damned audio for days.

your fingers dipped in and out of your soaked cunny, spreading your folds to feel how truly wet you were– and fuck damn. you were so sensitive to the touch and yet so desperate for more.

you twitched, shook, and whined all in the midst of grinding yourself over your hand. you were making a mess, dripping all over the chair and your clothes but you couldn’t care less. you were so overindulged that you’d even stopped holding your noises back.

his voice– his damned voice– begging to taste you, his fingers pressing so deep into you, his lips suckling at your bud– it was all too much on top of how sensitive you were.

“need–“ your moans swirled into loud, whiny sighs as you drew closer to your edge. “need it–“

your hands trembled at the sight of the sculpting tool before you. no. you wouldn’t. you couldn’t.

but you needed to. you needed it. your poor pussy was practically begging for more and who would you be to deny yourself of the pleasure you deserved?

you gripped the handle of the tool and settled it neatly between your legs, ensuring the barrier of your wet panties protected you from the tool. your hips rocked back and forth over it, both cold and hard, ensuring it abused the life out of your swollen bud.

it was almost as thick as him but just as hard. you clamped your hand over your mouth, whimpers getting louder the faster you moved. his name slipped out of your lips in a devastated moan followed by rambles laced with unabashed filth.

“wish it was you,” you could feel the muscles in your neck constrict and strain the further you arched back. “wish it was you– fuck!”

it had gotten so noisy. all that wet slick noise that squelched right from your core had gone straight into your head. the recording had turned into white noise and your only interest was bringing yourself to your climax once more.

you hated how you were making such a mess over him. you hated how you were getting so wet over the sound of him just seconds from fully eating you out, fully devouring you. and yet you loved it more than anything in the world.

you swiftly pulled the tool up and huffed out a shaky moan just from the sight of how soaked it was– just from you grinding on it. your fingers tugged your panties aside and plunged deep inside you once more, not wasting time for you to lose your edge.

your shaking hands dragged the handle of the sculpting tool up your body and nestled between your open cleavage, painting your lewd nectar all over your flesh. it was so sticky, so debaucherous, and so damn good that you couldn’t help but giggle at how fundamentally wrong it was.

“fuck– please, oh god, please!” your lip caught itself between your teeth, your body unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure you were torturing yourself with. but you couldn’t stop and you didn’t want to.

the table shook from how tight your grip was, practically vibrating from how hard you rolled your hips into your hand. your skin was hot and sticky. the room was thick with your breathy, slutty moans and the noises your fingers expertly pulled out of your cunny. just one more push and–

as if it were divine timing, rafayel’s muffled moan broke you out of trance, absolutely breaking you.

your nails clawed into the wood. your eyes rolled back. a hoarse cry ripped straight out of your throat and your body crumbled down, orgasm so intense that you collapsed right onto the table, body trembling, lungs gasping for air.

you glanced down to your hand and chuckled. wrinkled and soaked in your cream, you brought it to your lips to taste what had driven rafayel so mad. you felt manic. all that from a kiss and a little more.

you expected the feeling of shame to kick in. but it didn’t. if anything, you felt pride. pride that you were the only one to have touched him, kissed him. the only one to have driven him to the point of tasting you.

the mixture of sighs and nips came to a halt as you pulled your headphones off to analyse your crime scene. your chair was dripping, that clay sculpting tool was drenched, your heart was pounding. and the sculpture before you serenely stared at your disheveled state, almost like he relished in watching you fall apart.

oh, you were fucked.

and zayne could tell.

sitting in your usual spot barely an hour later, you were an absolute mess. shaking, stuttering and nervous at the mention of rafayel’s name. you had tried to maintain composure or at least give a front of being unbothered but your body literally decided to fuck you over.

“every time i say his name you shiver.” zayne deadpanned, stabbing into yet another cake slice with his fork.

goosebumps coated your skin like a layer of fur. you felt like it was about to start snowing based off how violently you were shaking. almost like your body was screaming for you to attack your pussy with your fingers again. “no i don’t.”

“oh really?”

you slowly nodded with a forced grin.

“rafayel.” and a sharp jolt ran down your spine, this time pulling a whimper out of you. his eyes slowly narrowed before widening in realisation. “oh my god, did you have sex with your professor?”

“no!” if oral sex counts…

“so you did fuck him.”

“not exactly!” you conceded, burying your face in your hands. what better way was there for you to explain it other than saying ‘oh, it turns out he’s actually interested in me and probably finds me hot because he kind of ate me out’?

you could just make him listen to the audio– but you couldn’t. you didn’t know if you were under the influence of selfishness but it felt too sacred. too personal. and even though zayne has seen and heard a lot from you (mostly against his will), this was something you weren’t fully willing to share.

but he knew everything about you, hell, he’d accidentally found you using your vibrator (the only way to reimburse him was to send him a text or keep a note on your door and to buy him desserts for three months). but that recording? no. not that.

so instead, you gave him a watered down summary but did not spare any details just to spite him a little. by the time you were done, his decadent cake was long abandoned, replaced with a look of great disdain.

“while i’m eating my cake.” he grumbled, scowling at the dessert in reminiscence but he knew his appetite would not grant him the pleasure of eating more. he slowly leaned back into his seat, pushing the plate as far as his arm could reach.

“so you’re telling me your professor dragged you into a supply room to ask why you weren’t in lectures and he ended up eating you out?”

hands still covering your face, you nodded.

“well, you’re not going to handle your lecture if you keep shivering just from hearing his name.”

“do you think i don’t know that?!” to make matters worse, you had an upcoming lecture that you had originally intended to go to. it would be like a revision lecture, filled with tips and advice to assist you before you had to submit your final assignment.

you were planning to go. were. and then that psycho ate you out.

“do you think you’ll be fine to sit there?” zayne poked your hand, voice laced with concern. honestly you didn’t know. maybe you could sit in the back of the lecture hall so that way he wouldn’t see you. or maybe on the last seat in the row so you had an easy escape.

“stop overthinking.” your best friend’s voice snapped you right out of your daze. “if you think you’ll be fine, start going. if not, i’ll come with you–“

“no, nope!” you shot up to your feet, deliberately ignoring the rush of blood leaving your head. you were falling into a daze of dizziness– but not like how rafayel’s fingers did– fuck. “i’ll see you later, yeah?”

“unless you actually fuck him this time.” zayne muttered just loud enough for you to hear as your rushed off.

“choke!”

all you had to do to survive the next forty-five minutes was to rawdog it. just take everything that would be thrown at you and bite back hard. shouldn’t be that bad right?

wrong.

the fucking asshole ignored you. he didn’t even look at you as you walked in. he was occupied with some of the maintenance staff carrying sculptures into the lecture hall. was he going to do a presentation to praise the makers?

as you walked to the nearest vacant seat, you had heard snickers. not a lot, but enough to know that some people still remembered what had happened.

“rawdog, rawdog, rawdog.” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the table in the front of the hall. that wasn’t there before. just what was he planning?

just as he turned to face your class, all noise instantly fell to silence. but not like it usually did. something about his demeanour seemed a bit different. more crude. rafayel stared in four specific directions for long, without blinking or uttering a single word. his face was blank. and that was what made it terrifying.

“usually, these revision lectures come with written notes,” his stupid bioluminescent eyes glanced down at the four statues before him, scanning each detail noting its perfections and marking its imperfections. “but i believe a demonstration would do far better. especially with these finalised sculptures that were submitted early.”

he walked to the furthest sculpture, made of clay that was still slightly wet. it depicted the head of a lion– its details designed almost expertly. your skin prickled in the heat of envy. of course he would brandish the best works in the class. of course he’d act the same.

crack!

the sound was like punching drying mud. still slightly wet but dry enough to sound painful.

the lion’s head was deformed, ruined and defiled by rafayel’s hand without a pinch of remorse on his face. a horrified cry erupted behind you following by choked sobs. you glanced over your shoulder to see one of the girls that bullied you crying into her hands. as much as you wanted to feel bad, you just couldn’t.

“that one was still dry.” he nonchalantly shrugged, wiping the excess clay on the edge of the table as if it were sludge. “don’t submit your work if it’s unfinished. that includes the clay not being fully dry.”

he gracefully glided to the next, picking up a very heavy hammer. he tossed it into the air, watching it quickly plummet down landing directly on the sculpture beneath it. that one had fully dried. shards of dried clay flew as far as the first row of students, resulting in a flurry of screams.

“that one was just ugly.”

the third he had pushed off the table to meet its end with a crash!

“boring.”

the last sculpture remaining stood as the most beautiful. it looked as though hours of sleep were lost to craft it, delicately held and carved and made with something deep. not love. desire. rafayel stared at the sculpture, lazily scrutinising each part. he held up a jug of clear liquid and poured it all over the sculpture until it was drenched completely.

he picked up a box of matches. gasps and murmurs slowly arose. your eyes widened.

he pulled out a match and dragged it across the sandpaper to set it alight. gasps turned into screams. your hand raised up to your lips in disbelief but never quite reached its destination.

it was almost as if time had slowed. those purple-blue eyes slowly blinked as his gaze reached up directly to yours. and the match fell, slowly gliding down to the head of the statue, engulfing it in divine flames. divine vengeance.

he kept his word.

a loud scream sounded across the lecture hall, the only noise made in the otherwise silenced hall. the shock had silenced you. and yet his eyes– his eyes were now blue. like the flames drowned out the regal poise and gentleness in him and left only the cold cruelty behind.

it scared you. and it made your thighs press tightly together. it made your breath hitch. warmth almost as hot as the flames pooled in your core, only amplified by his gaze on you. your fingers twitched intuitively, almost like an urge to reach out to him. as if his eyes were a silent song calling to you.

he kept his word.

“i do not tolerate bullying in this class.” rafayel reluctantly pulled his gaze away from you to glare at the four culprits.

it did not take long for him to figure out who had destroyed your trial sculpture. with a bit of bribery and pushing up marks, it took him less than a day. it took a lot of self restraint for him to not attack them the moment he found out.

but he knew that this would be more satisfactory. their devastation and humiliation. your shock and relief.

he couldn’t help himself. he just needed to avenge you. to see you happy. to have you in his presence again. you were dragging him deep into your abyss, singing to him, alluring him, drowning him– and he was more than happy to drown with you.

and if that meant showing you just how far he was willing to go, then so be it.

“you will not be passing this class under my guidance, and by extension will not complete this degree to graduate with your classmates.” devastated sobs were the only response.

“to the rest of you, those are the ‘tips’ you need to keep in mind if you want to pass your final assignment.” and with that, he stalked out of the lecture hall. and chaos erupted.

the maintenance staff had begun to clean up and extinguish the still burning flames. the statue had long burned to ash but the flames surged strong.

you had to find him. you needed answers.

you rushed out of the hall buzzing with heat and shock. you needed air. but not on campus. you would find rafayel later. for now, you needed to breathe.

so you went to the beach. the first one you could find. you didn’t even bother listening to the security guard shouting behind you when your only interest was to be able to get air.

salted air filled your lungs as soon as you stepped onto the sand. it was relieving, soothing. as soon as your mind had cleared itself, you would start planning how to find rafayel and corner him.

but you weren’t going to have to look far.

“was that a worthy apology?” that voice. that same husky tone reserved solely for you had erupted your senses. struck your nerves. sent jolts of relentless heat right down to your core.

he stood right beside you, blazer hooked on his arms and hair wildly blazing with the wind.

“how did you–“

“i normally come here to paint.” he said as if it was obvious. like you totally knew. “how did you get past the guard?”

you weren’t going to tell him how you almost pushed the poor old security guard into a bush when you stumbled all the way there. “don’t worry.”

“right,” rafayel scoffed. “i won’t worry that you travelled all the way from campus when you should be working just to come here. it was to get air, yes?”

oh, he was insufferable.

“you’re unbelievable.” you huffed as you stormed deeper through the shore until your legs kissed the waves. rafayel followed almost intuitively, as if there were a magnetic string holding him to you.

“and you’re unavoidable.” he spun you back in his direction. “i’ve barely been able to concentrate on anything apart from you. from avenging you. from the memory of you in that room.”

your breath hitched. you’d assumed he moved past that event, let it go and allowed it to be a mere memory. it was more than a shock to see that he felt something too.

rafayel found his hands travelling around your body, the same way it did a few days ago. the way you were reacting to his touch… those gentle sighs, your leans into his hands, you were calling to him. and he just had to answer you.

“after what happened that day,” his head pressed onto yours as if touching you as much as he could would stabilise him. “all i can think about is you. and no matter how hard i try to satiate myself–“

a low growl pooled from the depths of his throat. “it’s just not enough.”

your held your lips within your teeth, leaving a gentle sting in your flesh. a soft finger flew to your chin, tugging it down just harshly enough to pull your lip out of your teeth’s grip.

“don’t.” he whispered. “you know what that does to me.��

you couldn’t help yourself but smile. back to his authoritative act again. the only difference was that this time you knew that it wouldn’t last.

“make me.”

you had to admit it. you missed his lips. you missed kissing him.

it felt so deliciously intense, so hot, so arousing. your hands naturally found comfort in his soft purple curls while his held your waist to press you two as close as possible. the cool bite from the waves kept you hyperaware and awake, intently noticing every movement he made, every sound that escaped his lips, and his growing length prodding your core.

“professor,” you sighed as you willed yourself to pull away to breathe.

“rafayel.” he corrected, leaning in to peck you. he was addicted and more than proud to admit it. “call me rafayel from now on.”

you had said his name many times to curse him, to gripe at him, and to complain about him. but never like this. never this intimately. it almost felt too delicate to say.

“say it.” peck.

“say my name.” peck.

“or i’ll make you.” his next peck quickly deepened with his tongue welcoming itself. his cock pressed hard against you, burning right through the layers of clothing between you. you were going to fucking explode.

“rafayel.” you moaned into his lips. his grip on you tightened.

“rafayel.” you said again. his hips jutted up.

“rafayel.” a low groan disrupted the peaceful crash of the waves on the shore.

“again.” rafayel pressed boiling kisses along your jaw to your neck, biting and suckling bruises into your skin.

the damn cold really woke you up because you slowly remembered that this was your professor you were kissing and were about to fuck in the middle of the beach. “rafayel, we shouldn’t–“

“please,” kiss. “need to be inside.” kiss. “need to feel you.” kiss.

“i punished those that wronged you,” he fell to his knees, completely ignoring the waves pushing him back and forth. he was too needy, too aroused. “forgive my wrongdoings, cutie. let me please you again.”

he was good. he was too good at reminding you of just how much you wanted him. just how much you ached for him. you’d be a fool to deny yourself of that pleasure. your pussy was just begging you to be blessed with that delicious feeling only he could provide.

but, again, you were both in the middle of a beach. empty, yes. but anyone could walk around.

“rafayel,” his eyes twinkled in glossed desperation. “we’re on a beach.”

“it’s a private beach.” oh. so that was why the security guard chased after you. “i own it.”

your eyes widened. he owned a beach?

that annoying chuckle sounded beneath you as rafayel rose to his feet. he cradled your face in his hands, pressing warm kisses on your cheeks. “i said i like to paint here. but i’d never do that with strangers looking. so i bought the beach and the properties surrounding it.”

of course he did. the man was literally rolling in money.

“so you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” his hips rolled onto yours, reminding you of the delicious hard on you had imagined while you fingered yourself just a few days ago. “unless someone runs past the security guard.”

“mean.” but so sexy while doing it. but since you two were safe to engage in your shenanigans… “then let’s do it.” you slowly leaned away from his hold to peel your clothes back layer by layer.

rafayel silently watched you unbutton your blouse, unveiling your pretty tits, one nipple slipping out the hold of your bra. he quickly followed in suit, tugging of his drenched dress shirt to toss it onto the sand.

you watched his shirt slip off, revealing his muscular chest and abdomen. he must have been sculpted by gods– or was potentially a god himself. you couldn’t help but look further down. down the tense line of abs to his v-line, to the trimmed purple tufts leading down to the tent growing in his pants.

your pants had fallen to the sand along with his, and fuck me sideways the print of his cock was orgasmic. could you even hold all of that with your hand?

rafayel stepped closer, reaching his hand up your spine until it reached the lace enclosure of your bra. “you sure you want this?”

“you have no idea how much i want this.” a soft click instantly echoed end the endless range of the beach, giving your spine and chest relief as rafayel slipped your bra off your body. his hands delicately caressed your tits, deliberately pinching your hard nipples to perk out even more.

“raf–“ you gasped, feeling a foreign sense of pleasure spread down to your core. that was new.

“mhm?” his eyes were practically fixated on your chest, fondling and massaging your mounds. his tongue slowly swiped over his lips and in an instant, he latched himself on one of your nipples suckling on you like a man starved.

any response you would have made – which was most probably you cussing him out – was replaced by a sharp cry. while his mouth nibbled and suckled marks onto one his hand massaged the other, switching positions in intervals until he believed he gave your chest enough attention.

“see what you do to me?” his hand guided yours down to the huge bulge in his pants. it was rock hard. fucking leaking. “getting me so riled up just from the thought of satisfying you.”

his fingers hooked around the hem of your panties – lace again, you must be doing this intentionally – and tugged it down until he could see the string of your wet arousal connecting the fabric of your underwear to your sweet pussy.

“fuck, you’re soaked.”

“and you’re rock hard.” you attempted to retort the obvious but your flustered state gave away your nerves. you tugged his underwear down, freeing his cock with a spring.

it slapped his stomach, shooting drops of precum on his milky skin. fuck damn, he was so big. so thick your hands wouldn’t even be able to wrap around it, and long enough to stuff you to the brim. and those veins? you could count three. his mushroom cockhead raged a dark pink colour, leaking copious amounts of precum. you were tempted to lap it up right there.

rafayel must have caught you staring like a dickmatised sucker, judging by his giggle– he fucking giggled.

“don’t be shy,” his hands reached to hold yours as he pulled you deeper into the ocean, like a siren calling upon a sailor. it was unbearably cold and yet it didn’t bother you. “it’s all yours to touch.”

rafayel guided you behind a large rock sitting not too far from the shore, tall enough to hide you and shallow enough for the water to reach your upper thighs. the rough, mineral surface was much warmer than the water, making you melt as soon as your back touched the rock.

“do you want me to stop?” his lips drew dangerously near yours. so damn close.

the ocean fell quiet, serenely whispering to you with its waves gently lapping at your skin. the wind whistled through the air, blowing through your damp hair, bringing you to a shiver. rafayel leaned closer, pressing himself as close to you as your bodies could allow.

it all felt so hot, so comfortable that the cold water couldn’t do anything. his hands wandered down, down to the perked pebbles on your chest. your eyes fluttered shut as his fingers ghosted over your skin, shivered gasps escaping your lips.

“no,” your head fell beside his own, pressing hard on the need to protect the last of your restraint. “don’t stop.”

he hummed in approval, moving his hand lower and lower until it reunited with your weeping core. “you did something to me that day,” rafayel did not waste a breath to touch you, running his fingers along your folds and deliberately avoiding your swollen bud. “i haven’t been able to concentrate. just been craving you. needing to touch you.”

his hips bucked up rubbing his cock up and down your abdomen, precum painting your skin. you felt like his canvas, just waiting to become his best artwork. you were so wet you couldn’t think. you knew he could tell.

“i couldn’t contain myself after,” rafayel gripped your chin to pull you into a lascivious kiss. his fingers circled around your wetness, dragging your wetness up ever so slowly until it touched your clit. your breath hitched at the feeling. “i just kept on touching myself to the thought of you. but it was never enough.”

his fingers were humbly invited into your entrance, ruthlessly rubbing your wetness all around you, mixing it with the cold water beneath you. his tongue stuck out his lips, heavenly eyes focused and enamoured by the pure wetness you could produce. he could almost smell it over the ocean’s salt.

he devoured your whimpers, slipping his tongue deeper into your mouth. the way he drilled into you, curving in an utterly delicious angle and taking in every moan, sigh and sultry noise you created was almost too much. it felt divine.

“my favourite thing about you,” he pulled his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a harsh smack as you whined. he brought his fingers up to his lips, sticking his tongue out to lick and taste your delicious nectar. the mere contact of it on your tongue made him groan.

“your taste,” his eyes darted from his hand to your soaked cunny then to your lips. “it’s been stuck in my mind. and how it tastes with mine? fucking amazing.”

oh, he was nasty. good. because you were too. “let me taste you,” your body intuitively leaned closer to his fingers, lips spreading wide enough to take him in your mouth. “taste us.”

the noise that erupted from him was more than enough to make your walls clench. rafayel took the invitation your lips gave him and slowly pushed each of his pussy drenched fingers in, one by one.

he was right. you tasted good. that’s one point to you for taking good care of yourself. but what roused you was the way he looked at you.

his lips were parted, breath heavy, eyes glossed over and darkened with lust so intense that the purple-red tint of his eyes were drowned by the blue. he pushed his fingers deeper inside your salivating mouth up until you gagged around him.

“now imagine this,” he pushed his fingers back and forth, watching your bob your head as you sucked and swirled your tongue around what remained of your juices off his finger. “with my cock.”

oh fuck damn. that man had a way with his words. it felt like a dream come true. you must have manifested it while you were fucking yourself earlier that day.

“you wanna try?” your eyes widened in erratic excitement. you pulled your head away and slowly sunk to your knees, making sure to kiss the exact spots he had kissed your skin in that supply room.

slowly, teasingly, rudely, you dropped to your knees while ensuring your mark was etched on his skin in bites and bruises. rafayel’s pretty eyes were fluttering, face completely flushed red. you looked even better than he imagined. more delectable. it took so much more than his restraint to stop himself from fucking your mouth there and then.

but he let you tease him. just a bit longer.

you pressed a hot kiss right at the base between his heavy sacks and his cock, bringing him to a shudder. your finger trailed up his shaft until it reached his slit to dance little circles around him until drops of his nectar dribbled down to your tongue.

of course he fucking tasted good. just how much more divine could he get?

your tongue lapped him up slowly to take each and every drop until your lips wrapped over his tip. that alone was almost too much for you. fuck that, you were going to finish what you started. adjusting yourself to see him clearly, you raised your gaze to his glossy eyes and winked before sinking his cock into your mouth as deep as you could go.

rafayel’s hands flew to your head, gripping your hair to hold himself back. his chest heaved, rapidly moving up and down, and his lip trapped itself within his teeth. god, he was so fucking handsome.

you slowly brought your head to a rhythmic bob while your hands (both) stroked what your mouth couldn’t take. you traced each vein with your tongue as you moved back and forth and sucked hard on his cockhead every time you drew back for air. your jaw loosened just a bit to accept more of him down your throat, more and more until your nose was tickled by his purple hairs.

“oh, you evil woman.” rafayel huffed, watching a twinkle of mischief grow in your eyes as you pulled your head back. “i swear, if you– fuuck–“

the way his cock filled your throat had your pussy soaking even more. your jaw was widened to its limit, tears were burning at the corners of your eyes and your hands gripped his thighs to keep a strong hold on him. you took a quick mental notes. deepthroating was clearly one of his weaknesses.

your rhythm had gone much faster and deeper now that your throat became accustomed to his size. you quickly became sloppier and wetter, leaving a mixed trail of precum and saliva travelling down your chin to your tits. the gargled moans and gags leaving your lips drove both of you into a lust-fuelled frenzy.

“cutie–“ his moans grew louder the faster you went. “cutie,” his moans slowly turned into whines. “fuck, cutie–“

his hands gently pushed your head back to free his cock from you. he held his hand up as he panted, practically begging to get some air. you could only grin and wipe away the wet slick covering half your face as you rose to your feet.

rafayel��s lips crashed into yours, worshiping your lips in pure reverence. in a swift move you found yourself in his arms, leaning right against the rocks as his cockhead aligned with the entrance to your long neglected cunny.

“i hope you’ve had your fun,” his voice had dropped down an octave. you didn’t realise you could be so attracted to him more than you were just moments ago. “want to make you feel me deep inside.”

his lips coated your neck in wet, hot bites and smooches to draw out more of your sighs and moans. he deliberately attacked what he had learned to be your most sensitive spots until you were writhing in his arms.

“please, raf,” you pleaded. “stop teasing.”

you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “since you asked so nicely.”

rafayel slowly lowered your onto his cock but made sure you felt every part of his tip spread you wide open for him. your nails clawed into his shoulder and back, the sheer girth was overwhelming.

he whispered short praises to soothe you all while pushing his tip in and out of you until you welcomed more of him inside. the slight pinch of pain quickly became pleasure, allowing your pussy to soak him in your juices and suck him deeper into you until he bottomed out completely.

“fuck.” you both sighed into the air, eyes fluttering shut.

you felt complete. you could’ve stayed just like that for hours.

“‘m gonna move, okay?” rafayel mumbled into your neck. your patted his shoulder in response. his cock slowly drew back and jutted right into you, making you gasp.

he rolled his hips in and out of you slowly, just to get you both nice and comfy before picking up the pace until you both moved in tandem with each other.

one hand held the back of your neck while the other had a death grip on the plush flesh of your ass, feeling it ripple each time your hips collided. he kept pounding until his hips drew back a bit too much, pulling his cock out of you. he swiftly pushed back deep into you, ripping out the most lewd scream from your swollen lips.

“oh, cutie,” he gasped out a handsome, breathless laugh, moving faster into you than before. “i thought you were worried about us making– shit– noise.”

“this–is– ah- your fault!” slutty stutters were all you could muster, and that only egged him on to go harder. deeper. rougher.

“what was that?” his tongue slithered up your neck, licking the salt off your skin. “didn’t catch that. ’s my cock too much for you?”

“g-god, fuck you–“

“yeah,” you could just feel him smile on you all while being balls deep inside your cunny. “yeah it is. let me– fuck– lemme fix that, cutie. how ‘bout i make you cum a few times so you can let all that anger out, yeah?”

so filthy. his words were practically drenched in debauchery and desire. and for some reason it had you fucking yourself back into his cock, desperate to feel those delicious veins running up and down your fluttering walls.

you relished in the debauchery spewing out of your lips, trembling from the heat literally radiating off his body contrasting the chilling cold from the waves slapping your skin. your cunny squeezed so tightly round his cock that he almost came right there. he needed more. he needed to feel more.

rafayel swiftly pulled out of you and pressed a wet kiss on your shoulder as an apology to your whines.

“do you trust me?” his husky whispers brought you to a shudder. you could only nod. he lifted you off the rock, sitting down in the water with you on top of him. with your waist was submerged the pressure within your core had increased astronomically– especially since he was still lodged deep inside you.

rafayel held you still by your hips, breath heavy and laboured. “didn’t know you could get tighter than that, cutie.” you couldn’t help but squirm, rocking your hips back and forth to make him move just a little. everything was so hot inside you to the point where the cold no longer bothered you.

it felt so damn thick and big, stretching you out even more than you thought you could tolerate. just as you were about to settle on him, rafayel’s hips snapped up pushing his cock further into you than before.

it’s like the waves moved in tandem with the way his cock fucked up into you, bouncing you up and down, splashing with the colliding water every time your hips returned to each other.

your moans turned into relentless cries into the wind, muted by the ocean’s song. the shifting sand dragged your further and further into the ocean unbeknownst to either of you, so encapsulated in chasing each other’s pleasure until you were chest deep.

rafayel ensured every part of you was touched by his lips, tasted by his tongue, and marked by his teeth. you were struggling to keep up with his smooth, godly pace. he couldn’t catch a break. he just kept going on and on to the point where you wondered if he was even human.

“do you feel that?” he groaned, not wasting the opportunity to slither his tongue around the shell of your ear. his grip on your waist tightened indicating his impending finish on its eve. “how warm you are, how tight you are around me– fuck– you’re burning.”

“you feel– you feel so much bigger!” your hands tangled in his drenched locks, tugging just as hard as his thrusts.

that annoying chuckle rumbled from his chest. “don’t make me blush,” using the incoming wave as a booster, he raised your hips until only his leaky cockhead stayed lodged in your cunny– which was sucking him so hard he couldn’t escape if he tried– and dropped you back down until your folds brushed his swollen sacks.

your vision had gone white for a second, and rafayel– the cruel, mean bitch that he is– took that second as your ‘recovery time’, getting right back into working you to your limit.

deeper and deeper the waves carried you in, raising the pressure in your pussy as he pistoned in and out of you, his tip practically kissing your most sensitive spot– something you couldn’t even achieve reaching.

your head threw back just far enough to touch the rising tide, throwing you into a dangerous mix of shock and pleasure. it so intense that your walls fluttered around him in an explosive finish, dragging out the most melodic cry he had ever heard.

“oh, cutie–“ he was about to pull out– just about to. but he couldn’t, it all just spilled right out of him. the way your pretty cunny literally tightened around him… it was almost like you intended to milk him of all he had.

a breathless gasp left your lips at the feeling of his borderline boiling cum just filling you up. to think you almost stopped taking the pill. you would be more than happy to spend the rest of the year being stuffed like this– with him.

“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, i–“ you silenced rafayel’s apologies with a hungered kiss– so devoted and starved that you subconsciously nipped at his tongue and lips, rolling your hips to feel his seed spread deeper into you. and he hadn’t stopped. it was practically endless.

“i’m on the pill,” you whispered against his lips, pecking him with each word. “don’t worry.”

rafayel looked so precious under you. it’s like the ocean decided to bless him by making him even more handsome. he looked godly. sculpted by the most poetic artists, given the voice of a siren, the eyes of the deepest most beautiful coral and the hair of the most beautiful mermaid in the known abyss.

and you had the privilege to watch him unravel just for you.

his worry almost made you feel bad. he held you close, cock still pumping his sticky seed into you, soft plump lips spread as he heaved for air. the tide was still high, and the waves began to rage. but neither of you were willing to return to the surface just yet.

the waves were rising to your necks, just moments away from submerging you. your legs trembled, your breath hitched at every movement. and a mischief idea came slithering into your mind.

“i wanna try somethin’” you slurred, almost drunk on the feeling of him so deep inside you. even the cold water began to warm up as your pussy tingled through the last of your orgasm. she wanted more. you wanted more.

you leaned down to his neck, licking a wet line up his neck, to his jaw, to the corner of his lip. “but you’re going to have to trust me.”

in good timing his hips jutted up into you, cock still rock hard and throbbing. “anything. do anything.”

questions of doubt began to flood your mind but you decided to through caution to the wind. you'd gone far enough– there was no turning back. “take a deep breath and hold it.”

splash!

rafayel’s senses spiked completely to a new level. your lips were pressed tightly on his, enveloping him in a stronger erotic embrace. you had gone deep underwater until you were both completely submerged, using only the breath you held as your lifeline.

everything felt so deliciously tight. so soundless. so weightless. like there was no limit to what you could do. rafayel wanted to take advantage of that. he swiftly flipped you over, ensuring your back gently landed on the seabed. breath still bated and lips still in a ferocious dance, rafayel slowly and gently rolled his hips in and out, feeling his cum seep out of you with each delicious thrust.

the contrast between hot and cold was overwhelming, his blood rushed through his veins as the pounding in his chest translated to intense throbbing in his cock. your fingers dug into his flesh, squeezing at the pleasure and clawing for air but every time he tried to bring you both up to the surface you pulled him back down.

the pressure alone brought you to yet another orgasm, pussy clenching around him even more. rafayel could practically hear you moan the last of your air right out of you just as he came again, both overstimulated and faint.

you both pushed past your body trembling highs swimming up higher and higher until you finally breached beyond the ocean’s grasp, returning to sweet air. within the first gulp of air you could gather, you returned to hungrily devouring each others mouths, hands caught up in each others hair and flesh like neither of you could let go.

the ocean carried you back to the shore, blessing you and sending you off until you touched the sand. you found yourself back on top of him, still vibrating and in the midst of your orgasmic finish all while he was lodged inside you.

“underwater,” rafayel huffed as his thrusts came to a final halt. your lewd juices had mixed with the water, cleaning most of it away. what remained was mostly still inside you, plugged by his girth. “fucking underwater is a first for me. how’d you even think of that?”

“i’m creative.” you grinned, arching your back just enough to make him groan. “maybe you’d be nicer if you considered that.”

his eyes darted between your own, flashing a glimpse of guilt. “i am so sorry for what has been happening to you. truly.” he pressed a kiss on your lips.

then your cheeks.

then your jaw.

“was my apology good enough?” destroying four sculptures just for you? most definitely. but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“no.” you sighed as his lips tickled that one spot on your neck. “i need more than that.”

“what can i do to make it up to you?” another kiss on your neck.

“give me full marks for my last few assignments." you huffed. "especially the trial sculpture.”

a low, breathy chuckle rumbled into your skin. his grip on you tightened to hold you closer. his eyes twinkled. “i already did.”

#✧.* thalwri #✧.* thalwri works #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace x reader #lnds smut #lads rafayel #lnds rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lads smut

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loserabby · 9 days ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚. 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃? 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 mom!abby x teacher!reader

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ . ** MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOGI DO NOT GIVE ANYBODY PERMISSION TO REUPLOAD OR PLAGARISE MY WORK. IF YOU SEE SOMETHING I'VE WRITTEN ANYWHERE ELSE OTHER THAN HERE OR MY A03, PLEASE LET ME KNOW VIA ASK **

₊˚ 𓂃 ₊ ˚ ✧ abby anderson is in trouble, and it's all her son's cute daycare teacher's fault — at least, that's what she tells herself each time you make her heart pound in her chest. she doesn't even know if you like women but the more time you both spend together, dancing around the edge of something, the more she wonders; is she the only one whose interested or is there something here?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : explicit language, no outbreak au (modern), use of Y/N, fluff, references to sex/sexual acts, kids/de-aged characters (yara and lev as abby's kids - 6+3 respectively), lesbian pining, slight misunderstandings (they think each other are straight in the beginning), doctor!abby as well but i don't go too much into that, anxiety mentions (abby has a lot of mom guilt and stresses easily about her kids), just straight up yearning, kissing, dry humping (to quote madeline argy: "bring back dry humping"). vague mentions of neglect/abuse in side characters backgrounds. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 15,824k

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 : not gonna lie, this is the fic idea that brought me back to this site and i'm not even sorry. it was just supposed to be a small little drabble but it quickly went out of control, to the point i've had to cut scenes from my outline cause the word count was getting way too much for a one-shot. also please note: i used to be a childcare practitioner and have worked in nurseries for a few years with different age groups but i have no idea what the american daycare system is like so take the actual daycare things with a grain of salt bc idk what u guys do. i may potentially make a series out of this and add other parts in the future cause i grew quite attached to the characters in this au. also this is lev's shark backpack, for visualisation reasons, cause i fell down a rabbithole while writing and had to decide amongst three. [ read on ao3 ]

[ border credit ] [ resources for palestine ] [ boycott tlou ]

The rain is coming down so heavily now she’s finding it hard to see through her windshield as she finally pulls into the daycare’s parking lot, but arriving does nothing to lessen the absolute panic Abby feels at being a whole twenty minutes late for pick-up. This was, not to be completely dramatic, her worst nightmare come true. Lev had only been at the daycare for less than a month and she was already late to collect him, thoughts of what the daycare staff probably thought of her, what other parents who might have seen him playing on his own as the last other child finally left, had plagued her mind the whole drive over. And no amount of slamming her palm on her horn had made the other drivers speed-up.

She takes a moment to herself when she kills the engine before she sucks in a breath, ripping her door open and sprinting out into the torrential downpour, immediately feeling her whole body soaked with the icy cold rain. Shit, ‘I should start bringing a coat for myself in the car’ she thought to herself, she always made sure she had backups for the kids but always failed to forget about herself.

Her braid is slightly windswept and completely soaked, stray baby hairs stuck to her sopping forehead when she reaches the door to the building, punching the code in with frozen fingers and finally stepping inside when she hears the door open.

She stands for a second, dripping on the doormat and wipes off her shoes. She can’t do much about the way her clothes drip on the laminate floors of the hallway, nor the way her shoes squeak as she walks down it but at least she’s not tracking in dirty footprints she supposes. When she does reach Lev’s room, her heart stutters for a second when she sees the lights aren’t all on, the room slightly dimmed. ‘Was he gone? Did someone take him away? Am I that bad of a mom?!’ She spirals mentally, before noticing some movement in the side of the room that is still dimly lit.

She pushes the door open, sighing in relief when she sees her son playing in the home corner, pretending to chop up wooden fruit and handing the pieces with a gummy grin to his teacher. You, his beautiful, sweet teacher who eagerly took the half of a strawberry he had extended to you and thanked him profusely before pretending to eat it. You’re telling him how tasty it was when Abby finally makes her presence known.

“I am so, so sorry! That rain came out of nowhere a-and I know I only work 20 minutes away from town but I swear, no one can drive in this weather” Abby’s eyes are wide, big and apologetic as she presses a wet kiss to the top of her sons’ head.

“It’s fine, Dr Anderson, don’t worry. When it gets like this we expect a couple of the parents to be late, especially those who work up on the mountains or outside of town.” You give Abby a soft smile, attempting to comfort her. You’re well aware of how easily she begins to spiral with worry — something you picked up on during her induction into the setting.

She’d been stressed then, going over all the paperwork not once, not twice but three times in fear she’d forgotten an allergy (he had none) or had written both her personal cell and work number down incorrectly (she hadn’t). Then there was Lev’s trial visits, spending a few hours getting to know the staff in the room he was in and bond with them, as well as socialising with the other children. Lev had, understandably, cried big fat tears down his little face as Abby had left but she’d only made it so far down the hallway before her own eyes had begun to water.

Cue you, having seen the tall woman’s body sliding down the wall from the window, stepping out into the hallway to console Abby, of all people. Not the child but the grown woman opening sobbing into her jacket. You’d been so understanding, offering her a tissue seemingly out of nowhere to wipe her eyes, and by the time you’d pulled a wet laugh from Abby she’d realised she could no longer hear Lev crying.

“Wha— He… He stopped?”

“Yeah, most of them do. I think it’s the whole, out of sight, out of mind thing.” You’d shrugged, “He will miss you, but he’s just realised it’s not as scary as he thought it was.”

You’d stood up then, offering a hand to Abby to do the same. She took it sheepishly, embarrassed about her emotional display but you’d waved her off. “You’re not the first parent to cry at drop off and you won’t be the last. But be prepared, he’s gonna be so overwhelmed with emotion when you pick-up he’ll burst into tears again. It’s gonna tear out your heart strings but he’s fine, just got a lot of big feelings in a little body. They all do”

And boy were you right, but it didn’t pierce Abby’s heart as much as it would have if you hadn’t warned her it was going to happen. She’d never had any issue settling Yara into school after she’d adopted the siblings, in fact she’d barely got a ‘bye’ from the six year old before she was off into her classroom leaving Abby to stand in surprise and, embarrassingly, rejection of her own daughter. Recounting that story to Manny had earned his howling laughter and a ruffle of her hair, which then led to Abby swatting her colleague and long-time friend on the arm right in front of a patient. That was a great Monday.

Maybe the difference was Yara was ready to socialise from the get-go, Lev had been clingy and shied away from people. Abby had taken some time off from working in the practice for adoption leave to help Lev settle better, finding groups for moms with children who are a little more socially wary to ease him into socialising again. Mel and Owen would say she babied him but, as Ellie once pointed out during a coffee catch-up, he kind of is a baby.

Which is why it was a big step, not just for Lev, but for Abby when it came time to send him to daycare. She knew he was ready, but it was a big step for him. She was worried he may regress, finding it hard to socialise with a larger crowd of children or having difficulty identifying a ‘safe person’ in one of his teachers.

Quickly though, Lev had attached himself to you and, in a way, after that day and — admittedly, the subsequent days Abby had also cried like his first actual day — getting to know you more during the pick-ups’ and drop-offs’, Abby found herself getting attached too. A stupid, embarrassingly quick crush had begun to form and she felt like she was a teenage girl again, counting down the minutes until she got to see her crush in whatever class they shared.

“We’ve had a great day, haven’t we Lev?” You ask with that sugary sweet smile to the toddler, the one Abby’s come to find her heart flutters at, idly tidying up the home corner Lev had been playing in when Abby arrived as you spoke. You’ve got a handful of wooden toy fruits collected in your hand, all matched together before you pull out a wooden fruit crate and toss them in as gently as possible, before setting them on the toy kitchen’s shelf. “I’ve put some photos on the app for you, we explored the garden didn’t we? And found some mini beasts!”

Abby had been immersed in the daycare world long enough with Lev to know Mini Beasts meant… Bugs? They meant bugs right?

“Got worms! ‘nd stinkbugs!” Lev shouted cheerfully, turning to Abby with his arms in the air. She was close enough, she thinks. She goes to scoop him up then pauses, remembering her soaked clothes. As if also noticing Abby’s dilemma, you jump into action.

“Got all his stuff ready, raincoat and umbrella…” Lev’s shark backpack is thrown over one of your shoulders while you’ve already got his raincoat opened up for him to put his arms into, kneeling down to help him button his coat before Abby can jump in.

“Y’don’t have to do that, Y/N” she sighs, guilt lacing the words. She knows you don’t mean to make her feel like a shit mom, so effortlessly and thoughtfully helping the little boy but it’s just another thing she feels like she’s fucked up tonight. “I know it’s probably way past your shifts ending time, I can do that”

You level her with a look, shaking your head softly. “I’m not gonna rush you guys out and besides, maybe I just like hanging out with my bestest friend ever, Lev!” She finishes the buttons on his coat, giving him the gentlest pinch of the cheek Abby has ever seen and a ruffle of his hair. Absent-mindedly, Abby then makes a note to take Lev for another haircut since it’s curling at the nape of his neck.

“Okay, I think you’re all good for your mama to take you home, Levy-boy!” She feels her cheeks heat at you calling her mama, and damn if her little crush isn’t getting out of control. She has to bite at her tongue to distract from the immediate thoughts of you in her home, in her kitchen, in full domestic bliss. You sitting on her lap on her favourite arm chair, giving the kids that doting look before saying ‘ask your mama’ when they try and get something out of you. No! Fantasies of… God, she was soft — domestic bliss, really?! — Well, they were for when her head hit the pillow.

It’s only then, when she’s shaken all thoughts of how soft your skin would be as she held you during a family movie night, that Abby notices the rain boots on his feet, a teal blue and not his. She quirks a brow, looking up at you. “These aren’t his, I’ve got ‘em at home. I know, I know, I’ll bring them in tomorrow” Abby bends to take them off his feet but your hands gently go to her wrist, small and dainty in comparison to her muscled arms.

“They’re daycare spares, you can just leave ‘em out in the hallway tomorrow ‘nd one of us will take them to the mud room. His shoes’ll get soaked, even if you carry him so I figured I’d save him from getting wet feet.”

Fuck, see. Thoughtful.

As if noticing the attention on his footwear, Lev stretches a leg out to show the rain boot off, which earns him one of your soft melodic giggles and smiles. Abby could kiss her son for gifting them with that giggle, for that smile.

It’s no wonder the kid let you put the rain boots on him, they’re not just a solid teal blue colour but have ocean wave patterns along the edges near the soles. “See, sp’ashin” He says, as if justifying it to his mom. Abby sighs, relenting. “Fine… Thank you, I’ll… I’ll make sure we bring them back tomorrow… And bring his ones in, y’know, in case it rains like this again”

Your pleased smile makes Abby’s stomach do a flip, so she distracts herself from it by finally scooping Lev up. “C’mon buddy, say bye to Y/N. We gotta go pick up Yara from her play-date, okay?”

“Is she doing good, I know you were a little worried about them when it came to making friends” You follow Abby and Lev out the room, finally turning off the lights in the room and walking out into the well-lit hallway. There’s still some other staff walking around, and another parent making a mad dash for the door — their child covered by their own jacket — which makes Abby feel a little bit better for, at least, not being the last parent to collect their kid.

“Yeah, I mean she’s still a little stand-offish with people but she’s got a solid group of four friends in her first grade class so… It’s one of those kids that she’s having a play date with” Abby had pretty much gone overboard vetting that child's house too before she agreed to let Yara go unattended for dinner, so she was anxious about getting to her.

You could pick up on that, or at least the residual nervous energy from being late so you kept your response short. “I’ll let you guys head out then, but I bet she’s had a blast”

Abby doesn’t doubt that but she can’t help the tight smile on her lips, nerves beginning to boil over. What if they made something Yara doesn’t like? What if they have small portions and won’t give her seconds even if she’s hungry? What if she and her friend had a falling out cause Yara tried to mother he— “Dr. Anderson!”

Your voice cuts off her mental spiral, Abby’s blue eyes wide as she looks at you. In her arms, Lev is looking over his mom’s muscular shoulders at the rain outside of the window which is still coming down in lashes. “Wha… Sorry, did you… Did you say something?”

A faint laugh spills from your pretty lips but your eyes have concern in them as you look at the other woman. “I just said ‘Have a good night’ but you were off in your own head. Y’okay?”

Abby swallows nervously and hikes Lev up further on her hip, her sodden blazer and shirt moving uncomfortably against her equally wet skin. “Yeah, fine. I gotta go, but thanks for everything. See you in the mornin’?” It’s phrased as a question, but you both know it’s as set in stone as the sun rising.

She darts out the door, her hand over Lev’s head to secure the hood from his raincoat, before you can respond. She quickly unlocks her car, fixing Lev into his car seat at record speed and ignoring the icy pelting of rain on her back as she bends half-way into her car. It’s only when she’s got him all secure and closed his door that she looks back at the daycare’s main doors to see you still standing there, offering a small wave goodbye to them.

Abby mirrors your movement, cheeks heating once more before she jumps into the drivers seat and finally makes her way out of the parking lot.

That wasn’t the last time Abby was late picking up Lev, although it was the latest she’d ever been. That was one of the hard parts about being a working mom, the Mom Guilt™ tends to eat you alive. She’d adjusted Lev’s hours to be more compatible to her hours at the clinic, even giving herself a set day off so she could spend a day at home and collect him earlier than she would do if she was at work. But, Lev was still at the daycare from start to finish most days and she couldn’t help but worry.

It became a routine though, Abby being the first parent to arrive and the last to leave. And oddly enough, it was always you she’d see. Not that she didn’t want to see you, but it felt oddly intimate getting to spend those few minutes so early just chatting with you.

Not that she was complaining, not when she got to see your beautiful face and hear your voice before her day began and before her night began to end. Abby wasn’t religious but she might start saying prayers of thanks to any and all deities to keep this going.

She wasn’t sure what your hours were and she’d made a joke once about how you seemed to never get to have a lie-in or go home early. She could have swore your cheeks heated just a little and maybe you looked a little… Guilty? Like a child caught doing something you shouldn’t be. But maybe she was seeing things, it still being so early in the morning.

It became one of Abby’s favourite parts of the day, seeing you at drop off and collection. Getting your full attention, and soon the conversations weren’t just about the kids but about each other. Abby learned about your time in high school and college as a kids Summer Camp Counsellor and, in turn, Abby talked about growing up in Salt Lake City with her dad, practically raised by his fellow doctors and nurses and how he’d moved up to Jackson when she headed off to college to finally slow down before retirement, opening his own practice which Abby now runs.

It felt nice, like the two of you were bonding. Abby had to remind herself to not read too much into it, you were just nice. She didn’t even know if you liked women, never mind if it was your intention to make her heart thunder in her chest whenever you’d ask about something Abby had fleetingly mentioned three weeks earlier, already forgotten herself.

You had this magic way of easing the mom guilt she had and she didn’t know how you managed it.

Realistically, though, she knew Lev saw the daycare staff and kids more than he saw Abby and Yara and that realisation had her sobbing into her pillow while a rerun of Stargate SG-1 played in the background.

Abby had mentioned this self-depricatingly during one of the morning drop-offs, trying to disguise it as a joke. Maybe her face didn’t sell it though, or maybe you just knew her too well at this point but suddenly she felt your hand on her shoulder with a comforting touch.

“Dr. Anderson, stop” And she did, like a pup following an order, falling quiet and looking at you with an open expression. “You’re being too harsh on yourself. It’s a lot being a working mom and you’re doing amazing, and Lev is far from the first in the building… Or even the last one to leave. I promise”

“Th-Thanks..” Abby had managed to stutter out, a shy smile creeping on her lips. She hadn’t said it for praise or compliments, in fact she wasn’t sure why she said it. Something about you just.. Made it easy for her to speak. “I just.. I think cause I see him as the first to arrive and the last to leave in this room, my brain starts to go crazy thinking of him alone for ages until the rest of the kids turn up”

You shake your head, brows scrunched up in a disagreeing face. “I swear, after you leave it’s like a stampede of kids. I’m telling you, Lev and I barely get, what?—” you look down at Lev as if asking him to confirm. He and Yara are helping set the tables for breakfast with you, his small eyes looking as if he’s also pondering your question. “Five minutes? Maybe, of peace. And at the end of the night it’s maybe… Ten, fifteen at most before you get here. But I’m telling you, he’s fine, i’m fine, and more importantly you’re fine, Doc”

Abby felt a little bit better at your words, nodding. She glances at the clock, sighing when she realises she’s gonna have to leave soon to drop Yara off at school. “We better get you to school, huh Missy?” she calls down to her daughter, black hair in an intricate braid Abby had been forced to practice doing all weekend. Apparently, braids were an important thing in first grade.

Yara gives Lev one last hug and Abby bends down to press a kiss to the top of his head before the two move towards the door. You’re murmuring a ‘see you tonight’ when Abby turns to you, “You can call me Abby.. By the way. You keep calling me Doc or Dr. Anderson, but.. You can call me Abby”

The blonde wasn’t sure why saying that made her palms sweaty, or why her heart was racing. But then you smile, lips slowly curling and eyes averted from hers. You nod your head, testing the name on your tongue. “Abby.. Abby it is then” It sounds beautiful coming from your lips and she finds herself eager to find more ways to get you to say her name over and over again now she’s heard it.

She’s walking out with a silly, dumb smile stretched across her lips, Yara’s small hand in hers when the six year old gets her attention. “Mama, do you like Miss Y/N?” She says it quietly, like she knows it’s probably embarrassing. Abby’s eyes widen, darting around the hallway to make sure no one else heard the young girl. “Wha— Subtlety, c’mon.. why, uh.. why do you ask, Goob?”

Yara takes her hand from Abby’s, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up at her mom with a look far too condescending to be on a six year old. “I am being subtle, that’s why I waited t’be outside. And your hands get sweaty when you talk to her”

Abby stares at her daughter for a moment before sucking in a deep breath, looking at the hanging paintings of children’s art work in the hallway like it might tell her how to have this conversation. “Should we get ice cream at the diner after dinner tonight” is what she says instead, ushering her daughter along and out the door. Yara just lets her.

Soon the two of you are not just talking in the mornings and the evenings but through the day, albeit only through the daycares app. You justify why you spend so much time updating it is because you know Abby gets anxious and maybe seeing how Lev’s day has gone will help make her feel better by the time she comes to collect him.

Your colleagues give you knowing looks, all well aware that your own crush on Abby is the reason you do so much. If it weren’t for the fact you make the point to go above and beyond with all the kids then maybe then they’d have an issue with it, favouritism and all, but you don’t. Actually, bonding with Lev so much and Abby in return has made you feel so guilty you’re writing extra detailed posts for all the kids activities.

But if going the extra mile for all thirteen of the kids in your class just to see Abby’s comments on Lev’s posts, her reacting with emojis and her smile at the end of the day when she collects then it’s worth it.

And she lives for these updates, not just like any parent would but because she feels like you’re actually taking the time to have fun with the kids, not just keeping them entertained to make the day go easier.

Her favorite post was one you made during some ‘Healthy Living’ week Abby didn’t even know was going on, about how the kids had tried new fruits and vegetables they may never have tried, all done some obstacle courses and played pretend with fake gym equipment. After that sentence followed a photo of him on the post, his big cheesy grin directed at the camera. He’d pushed his short-sleeves up past his shoulder and was flexing his ‘muscles’ to the camera ‘like his mama has’, showing off for his friends.

And when she’d asked him about it on the drive home from daycare, he’d not stopped talking about how ‘big’ and ‘strong’ (“Super-duper strong!”) his mama was. Abby printed out the photo and framed it in her office at work, her heart full at the thought her son admires her that way.

It’s Wednesday, Abby’s set day off and while she’s very much aware that there’s a pile of laundry needing to go into her washing machine and a playroom currently looking like a crime scene, she’s sat in a coffee shop on main street across from her friends.

Her hair is, for once, free of its usual braid and left down for ease, which immediately led to ribbing from Manny. Abby’s not sure how the topic shifted, maybe it was Manny teasing her that was a gate-way, but all of a sudden you were the topic of conversation. Namely, Abby’s big fat crush on you.

Yeah, she should have stayed at home.

“Guess you could say she’s hot for teacher, eh?” Manny’s loud laugh fills the coffee shop, their friends low laughter following as the blonde’s cheeks blaze.

“Knock it off, she’s… She’s just sweet, y’know” Abby’s eyes won’t meet any of their looks, voice quieter than usual. “And she’s good with the kids, both of them. That’s, like, mom kryptonite”

“She’s a daycare teacher, Abby. You’d hope that she was good with kids” Owen laughs, his newborn splayed across his chest as he leans his chair back against the wall. It’s their second kid, a baby girl and the group have spent a majority of their get-together passing the baby around like the world’s most precious game of pass the parcel.

It’s funny, when Mel and Owen first announced they were pregnant Abby had felt sad. Not because he was her ex-husband and she regretted the divorce, wanted it to be her instead of Mel carrying his baby but just because she realised she did want to be a mom, that all her friends were also falling pregnant. She was embarrassed by her jealousy, her yearning. If it wasn’t for Mel and Owen getting pregnant after one too many wine coolers at a group ski retreat, Abby wouldn’t be where she is now— Mom to Yara and Lev, the happiest she’s ever been.

“No, you.. You don’t get it. It’s not just Lev, it’s Yara too. She doesn’t just know their quirks, she gets them. She knows that if Lev’s had a portion but he’s still hungry, he won’t ask for anymore no matter how much he wants it. That you’ve gotta put it in front of him. She knows Yara used to.. That she was the one looking after him even when she was small, so she gives her some job to do at drop-off’s and collections so she feels important but isn’t being a kid looking after a kid.” Abby’s face is burning hot now, her heart is fluttering at the thought of you and she can’t help but feel embarrassed until she feels Nora’s hand at her back, rubbing soothingly.

“Yeah, she’s too far gone. Someone take Abby out back” She hears Ellie murmur under her breath, earning a soft dig from Dina and a few laughs from the table.

“Shut up,” She huffs, taking a sip of her drip coffee and pulling her phone out. She taps through the apps and pulls up your posts on Lev’s daycare profile. “I mean, how am I not supposed to like her when she’s hardworking and it has to do with my kid. She knows Lev is obsessed with sharks so she organised this whole ocean themed water activity for all the kids with Lev as her helper. He told all the kids the different types of sharks and how to distinguish them, and he actually started to make more friends than he had before”

She’s got her phone extended across the table — Ellie, Dina, Jesse and Mel huddled together and watching — scrolling through the various posts, pulling it back for a second only to show them a photo she’d had saved to her favorites since last month.

“And, look— I know it’s just a Mother’s Day card, we all got carbon copies, but she knows how I get and when I got it she told me about how the whole time he was making it, Lev couldn’t stop talking about me. Like she knew how much that was gonna make my day… What?” Her gushing comes to an abrupt stop, brow raised when she spots Ellie and Dina smirking. Beside them, Jesse is looking at his caramel macchiato with raised brows, wide eyes and like he’s trying to force his face to stay straight.

“What, assholes, are you gonna tell me you all got the same line?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

“Oh, no. We didn’t get nearly the same amount of attention as you did, Ab” Dina says pointedly, though she can hear the held-back laughter and smile as she speaks.

“What are you—” Abby starts, but Ellie is already taking Abby’s phone and scrolling to the second picture, the one of the inside of the card. She turns the phone back to Abby, but all Abby sees is the inside message and Lev’s ‘signature’ (aka his crayon scrawls which extend across both inside pages).

She looks at her friends, brows raised and a clueless look upon her face. “What, did they not write Happy Mothers Day inside yours?”

“Well should we ask the audience,” Ellie deadpans before swinging her lanky body to the side to look at Mel and Owen. “Mel, Owen, what did the Mothers Day card you guys got say on the inside?”

Owen uselessly looks at Mel, whose face is lightly scrunched in thought. “Happy Mothers Day, from… And then kiddos name, why?”

Ellie’s head rolls to the side, a look on her face that says ‘See! Told ya so’ and Abby quickly snatches her phone from the auburn haired woman’s grip before she can show her card off to the rest of their friends.

Looking at the picture again, brows furrowed as she reads: Happy Mothers Day to the best mom. Lots of love followed by Lev’s signature. It’s your handwriting, she’s learnt it by now from the few notes you’ve had to pass in regards to weekend activities for the kids and such nearby you’d recommended to her one night. In fact, it looks like your best handwriting, like you made sure each letter was perfectly legible.

Abby looks up at her friends, suddenly feeling like a teenage girl again. “S-So what, you think—”

“She wants you” Manny cuts in, laughing once again. “I’m reading that right, aren’t I?” he adds after a moment, looking at the rest of their friends.

“Okay, people who actually know Y/N, can I get a raise of hands who think she.. Might like me” The words aren’t fully out of her mouth before five hands rise in quick succession, Mel reaching over to her baby sleeping on her husband's chest and raising her hand too.

The baby’s hand being raised is what really makes Abby feel like she’s being mocked by her friends, if she’s completely honest. “Okay, couldn’t have said anything sooner, assholes?”

“Abby, how are you one of the smartest women I know and simultaneously, the stupidest?” Nora asks lazily, her tired eyes only brightening with humor. Abby didn’t know how she was even here given she’d only finished her double at the hospital at six am, and despite her many attempts Nora won’t come work for her at the clinic. Something about not wanting to use influence to get a job she didn’t earn. Bullshit, she was Abby’s friend and an incredible doctor.

“One time I picked up JJ late, before you had Lev there. She was nice and all, but I was out of the door in, like, two minutes. Took me until I had him at home to realise she’d practically herded me out of the door as she did handover.” Jesse recounts, his lips pressed together tightly as he tries not to smile. “Just saying, she can get parents out quick when it's late. So why do you think she’s havin’ these big, long conversations with you each night?”

Abby’s mouth is slightly agape, stunned being one way of describing how she feels. She’d spent so long sure her crush was silly, unreciprocated. But had she been so focused on herself and concealing it that she hadn’t bothered to look and see if maybe it wasn’t just her who felt that way.

She’s off in her own head, brows scrunched up in deep thought — replaying every interaction, every touch you’ve both shared — when Mel nudges Owen. “Hey, isn’t that…”

Every head at their table turns to look at the coffee shop counter where you stand, oblivious to the audience you’ve now earned, ordering coffee. “Yeah, that’s Y/N. Must be on her break, damn… I wish I worked on Main, practically next door” Dina whispers, as if you might hear them.

“Guys, stop looking at her” Abby hisses, averting her eyes to her coffee in front of her and hoping her friends don’t garner your attention with their stares.

“Ah, I get it. She is pretty, I see why you’re so wound up by her now” Manny throws an arm over Abby’s shoulder, pulling her strong shoulders in close and giving her a squeeze. Then, with a tone of finality, “I want to talk to this girl.”

Her blue eyes widen, head shaking side to side as she looks from Manny to the rest of her friends. “Absolutely not”

But Dina is already calling you over, saying your name so sweetly with her hand beckoning you over. Abby can see your eyes widen with surprise and your cheeks go rosy, seeing such a large table of people apparently wanting your attention. But Abby’s sure when your eyes fix on her, even if it was for a moment, you seem to relax just a little bit.

“I’m going to kill you guys” Abby hisses though a smile at her friends before you get close enough to hear, but none of them take any notice and instead focus on you.

You stand awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with your hands and, in the end, deciding to cross your arms over loosely. Abby’s eyes drift over to your arms as you do so, spotting dried orange paint on your skin and something glinting, most likely culprit being glitter.

“Hey everyone, didn’t expect to see you guys until tonight” Despite your awkwardness, your humor is still solid and you don’t sound nervous at all. But you can’t help your eyes from wandering to Abby, to the sight of her with her hair loose in front of you.

It’s new, at least to you, and it kinda makes you breathless. Abby’s beautiful always but with her hair straight and down it’s just.. Different. “Hey, Abs” you shoot a small wave her way, Abby returning it with a small, warm smile.

“We try and catch up for coffee as a group at least once a month, especially with our workaholics.” Dina is quick to take the lead with the conversation, leaving Abby to want to sink into her chair and hide. “We were actually just discussing the kids crafts and you guys outdid yourselves with Mothers Day this year. Seriously, mine’s framed on the mantle”

There’s that blush at your cheeks again, one Abby wants to see again. Except she’s picturing a very different way of putting it there, one she probably shouldn’t be thinking of at a table full of her friends. Or in public.

She can’t help but wonder if you’re realising that they’ve realised a difference in their cards versus hers. Had you even meant to do it, was it unintentional but still.. With some sort of meaning behind it.

“Oh, this is Nora and Manny — they don’t have kids so you won’t know who they are but—”

“Actually,” you interject, cheeks darkening further as you do. “I think I recognise the names. Manny… Emanuel Alvarez and Nora Harris?”

Their surprise on their faces must be clear cause you're quick to finish, “You’re on Lev’s paperwork as emergency contacts, I make a point to memorise names and numbers for the kids in my group.”

You can’t see but Dina is smirking at Abby, mouthing the words ‘I told you so’. Her wife, beside her, has to bite her fist to stop from laughing.

“Well now I feel terrible for not knowing anything about you, sit! Join us while you wait for your drink” Shit, Abby knows that voice. That’s Manny’s charming voice, the one he uses when he’s trying to talk a girl into bed or get what he wants in some other way. She’s heard it way too many times back in the day at the Tipsy Bison.

Worse, it works but maybe it’s actually the rest of the group's encouragement that makes you sit on one of the free chairs with them. “So, daycare. Sounds like you’ve very nurturing, from what my friends tell me. They make you sound like God's gift to daycare. Tell me, do you have children of your own, a husband?”

Subtle, Manny. Subtle.

You huff out a laugh awkwardly, jaw twitching as you try and find words. “No, I don’t. To both”

“No? Wife then? Partner? Hey, we’re waving all kinds of flags with this group” Abby briefly considers whether or not using the laminated menu to stab her eyes out would put her out of the misery which is Manny trying to… Wingman? For her.

“Uh, sadly no” Yeah, Abby can see the regret in your eyes for agreeing to sit with them. But she can’t seem to care at this moment, sitting up a little bit straighter when you say the word sadly. What does that mean, you wish you had a wife? Did you have someone in mind? C’mon Manny, ask more questions!

Like the cat that got the cream, his smile curls at his lips. “Ah, I see. You got your eye on anyone?”

Your eyes glance at Abby, her hair catching your attention for the fourth time since you’d been called over. It looked so long, so silky. You wanted to run your fingers through it, braid it for her. You shake out of that thought, breathing out finally like you’d forgotten to. “Uh, maybe, Jackson isn’t really—”

“Iced Latte for Y/N” Saved by the bell, or the barista in this case.

“Shoot, I better go, but I’ll see most of you later tonight for collection. Have a nice day you guys!” They watch as you practically speedwalk to the counter and out of the coffee shop towards the daycare.

After a few moments of silence, Jesse is the one to break the silence. “Did Manny just scare our kids daycare teacher off by asking if she was married right from the get go?”

“Might have also had something to do with us all staring at her like creepy dolls” Ellie says around the rim of her coffee cup before gulping down the last of her coffee.

Manny puts his hands up in mock surrender, “At least we confirmed—”

But Ellie is quick to cut him off, “What, that she’s a girl kisser? Good going, genius, you could tell that by looking at her.”

“Pretty sure it was obvious when she gave us a group hello and Abby her own one” And as much as she doesn’t want to, she’s gotta say her ex-husband does have a point.

Abby spends the rest of the time the group remains at the cafe over-analyzing each look you gave her, every reaction you had, every word you said until it’s time to go home and rush her chores.

“I’m telling you, it was, like, the world’s scariest version of ‘meet the parents’ except it was all her friends and they were all parents of kids I was building a megablocks tower with ten minutes later.” You’ve pretty much sank yourself into the cushions of the old, worn sofa in the staff room, recounting your break to your friends and colleagues hours later on your lunch break. “Have you guys ever played Resident Evil, or seen it? That family from Biohazard? It was like that except they obviously weren’t rotting… Or evil”

Around you your colleagues laugh, namely because a majority of them are working mom’s in their early to late thirties who have no idea what you’re talking about.

“Okay, understandably creepy” Cat, one of your only colleagues close to your age, says as she scrapes the sides of her yogurt pot. “Still, objectively funny”

“So, you’re comparing getting called over by the good doc’ and her friends to meeting the parents, huh?” One of the older women, Caroline, butts in before you can respond to Cat. Her words make you wish the sofa would consume you, if only to hide the blush you knew had to be visible at this point.

It became public knowledge amongst the staff about your crush on Abby, pretty much from the start. You didn’t need to say anything, everyone sort of picked up on it easily, and suddenly it was as if you didn’t need to race to be the first to speak to Abby. No, they made sure they were busy as soon as they saw her walking into the room.

And when you suddenly started staying late to do the closes each night and starting your shifts early to talk to her in the mornings? They let you with minimal teasing. Minimal but still humiliating. Your manager told you they wouldn’t always be able to pay you for the overtime you were doing but, in all honesty? Talking with Abby, hanging out with Lev and Yara? It didn’t feel like working. It felt right.

Sometimes you imagined it when you were at home, in your tiny apartment that felt empty more times than not. You imagined some cozy home, curled up on a sofa, the four of you like a family in a living room surrounded by bookshelves. Not only filled with the sci-fi and classics you’ve heard Abby mention she’s reading in passing but your fantasy and romance ones, the bottom shelves for the kids books.

Imagining making breakfast, kissing Abby on the cheek before she heads out to work. Getting to see her come back from the gym, muscles strained and sweaty. You’d seen her once leaving the gym when you’d had a Wednesday booked off and the sight of Abby post-workout was enough for you to bite your fist and file the image away for later, but now your thoughts are just of easing her onto the couch and giving her a massage to ease the knots in her back.

You kind of missed when your crush first started, when your daydreams were all heated. How you’d fantasised about Abby’s form, of her manhandling you and licking into your mouth like she was starved. Of wrapping that beautiful, infuriatingly neat braid around your fist as Abby devoured your cunt, chin glistening and messy as she laps at your folds. Those were the fantasies that decided to reappear in your mind every time you saw Abby in the beginning, ones you’d have to bite your lip and try not to think of as she spoke.

Now? Now you’re straight up yearning and it’s a pain.

You huff out a sigh, ignoring the gentle, teasing laughter of the group of women. “It’s not funny, it was like I was being interrogated and all while she was sat there — not saying anything, mind you — with her beautiful, blonde hair out of that braid she always wears and I just wanted to… I don’t even know. God, is it bad if I say I just wanted to play with it? Is that a new level of sad?” There’s a pout at your lips as you sigh and Caroline reaches over to ruffle your hair, cooing softly in that motherly way she does.

“They’re sizing you up, Hon’, why else y’think they’re askin’ if you got anyone warming y’bed?” Arlene, another one of the older women, says softly. She’s stabbing her fork at some sad looking salad she’s put together but doesn’t seem all that interested in. “Betcha whole tab at the Bison she likes ya back and they’re fishin’ for her”

God, you wish. You thought you’d had a chance, the first time you’d met Abby but now you were pretty solidly aware you couldn’t be her type. Still, the thought makes your heart race.

“You’re forgetting one crucial fact: she’s not into women, ‘Lene. Has a whole ex-husband and everything” You groan out the word ex-husband like it did something personally offensive. She’d only mentioned the man briefly, no name or description but you cursed the man on a daily basis for letting a woman like Abby go.

“Whose to say Comp-Het didn’t have something to do with that” Cat mumbles, causing Arlene to lean over asking “Com-what?”

Caroline sucks in a breath, making a noise of disagreement. “I don’t know… Just cause she’s got an ex-husband don’t mean she can’t like women, or what if she likes both? You don’t know why their marriage ended, what if she realised the only cock she wanted was on the end of one of those strappy things?”

You’re groaning, head held in your hands at that comment while Cat cackles loudly. Her laugh can most likely be heard in all the classrooms and you have to reach over to smack her to get her to stop. You will not be dealing with cranky toddlers ‘cause a conversation about strap-ons of all things woke them up.

“Now I know I’m old and I don’t wanna get myself in trouble,” Arlene starts, causing you and Cat to glance at each other in silent dread. As the only two queer people on the daycare staff, neither of you knew where this could go. “But I always figured when you looked like that you kind of had to be a Lesbian. There’s takin’ care of your body and then there’s runnin’ for the Lumberjack Qualifiers, darlin’, you know?”

Cat makes a noise as if weighing up her answer, “No, sadly, straight women can be buff. It’s fucking cruel cause then we get baited but there’s no rules”

Arlene nods as if she’s digesting the information then turns to look at you with determination. “I still say her friends were checkin’ into you for her, not that you ain’t obvious about your lil’ crush on her and everything but what if she thinks you’re not into her?”

“Yeah, that Dina — JJ’s mom — she’s a tricky girl, bet the reason Dr. Anderson was so quiet was ‘cause they called you over before she knew it. I’m telling you, she was probably talking about you and got all shy cause her friends were embarrassing her”

You sit up at that, finger pointed at the older woman. “Okay, firstly— I am not obvious, I actually make a point to be extremely professional and only go all starry eyed after she leaves.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Sweetheart”

“And Secondly….” Your mouth hangs open for a second, not quite sure what else you could say to argue. The thought of Abby being flustered in that moment? It made your heart race with excitement. Cruel, cruel excitement. “If.. If you’re right, what do I.. What’s next? I can’t exactly ask her out, she’s a parent—”

Your manager's voice calls out from her office, right across from the door to the staff room. “Yes you can, as long as there’s no favoritism, favours or inappropriate behaviours that would reflect badly on the setting.” She says it in the familiar bored drawl you’re used to hearing from her, your eyes wide at the thought that even your manager is invested in your love life.

Around you, your colleagues are all trying to stifle their laughter.

Cat stands up, taking her trash to the garbage as she speaks. Shit, if she’s going back then you’re due back soon too. “You talk to her enough in the morning and at night, you can’t find a way to ask her out to coffee one day or something?”

“What, ‘Hey, I know you employ me for a service to care for your kid but do you maybe wanna go on a date with me, winky face?’”

“Yeah sure, but maybe don’t say winky face out loud” If it wasn’t frowned upon, you’d be throwing all of the sofa cushions at your friend right now.

“It doesn’t have to be a date, sweetheart. You could always ask her to hang out as friends first, then see how she is outside of these four walls.” Caroline adds as you stand, tossing the remnants of your own lunch in the garbage.

You’re nodding slowly as you leave the room, trying to convince yourself that the idea isn’t a bad one that could go horribly, horrifically wrong and end with Abby avoiding you forever. You glance at the clock in the room when you get back, only five more hours until you see Abby to see if you’ll actually do it.

Abby makes sure she’s early tonight, not just ‘cause it’s a Wednesday and she has the ability to do that but because she can’t be alone with you in that room without bursting into flames. The longer she had to dwell on your run in with her and her friends this morning, the more she wanted a zombie apocalypse to start so the undead could rip her apart. That might be more painless than seeing how uncomfortable her friends and their questioning might have made you.

Her mission is simple: get in, get Lev, get out. Try to avoid potentially seeing you look at her with disgust or any lingering weirdness. Maybe look into Witness Protection, see if they have exceptions.

She feels like luck is on her side, three other parents in the room and staff all busy talking to them. She can see you off in the corner, talking to another parent and unaware of her presence. Maybe she can keep it that way, just long enough to get the attention of another member of staff to let them know she’s taking Lev and make up some story about how they’re in too much of a rush to do a full handover.

Speaking of Lev, where the hell is her son? She can’t see him in his usual places, the construction area or the water tray. He’s not in the book corner, surprisingly, nor is he in the home corner like he had been that night Abby got caught in the rain.

She’s about to start panicking, blue eyes wide as she scans the room when she sees a familiar head of hair. Fuck, mission obstacle — He’s clinging to your legs, his toy giraffe clutched under one arm while his other is looped around your calf, his head rested against your knee.

Damn it, thwarted by her own kid. She’d even gone to the lengths of calling in Manny for babysitting duties so Yara wouldn’t complicate her ‘get-in-get-out’ plan but all of it had gone out of the window when Lev decided to attach himself to you like a keyring.

Abby sighs, hands awkwardly going into the pockets of her jeans as she waits for you to notice her. Luckily, since Abby is no longer actively hiding from you, she’s quickly spotted. You hold up a finger, signalling to her you’ll be a moment and bend down to whisper something in Lev’s ear. His tired eyes look up and then brighten when he sees Abby, a shout of “Mama!” from his tiny lips before he’s sprinting across the room.

Abby’s quick to squat down and scoop him up, watching as he rubs his eyes with tired fists. “Tired, Goober? Should we go to sleep early tonight?”

Despite his eyes being closed and one fist still rubbing at one, he shakes his head. “Still want my books, mama”

You must have wrapped up with the other parents in the short amount of time Abby’s had Lev cause suddenly you’re there, and even with the room being lively with other kids and other adults Abby can’t help but feel like all that noise quietens when you appear.

“Hey, Abs” You sound oddly shy, so unlike you and it makes Abby’s heart race. She thinks back to the conversation she and her friends had earlier this morning about how they all thought you might like her back and damn how she wants that to be true.

She manages to say a hey of her own, awkwardly sounding it out and somehow making it sound apologetic. “Seems busy in here, surprised you were able to do anything with this one clinging to you like a koala. I would’a picked him up earlier if I knew he was tired, you could have put something on the app. I don’t mind”

You shake your head, reaching up to give Lev a soft stroke on his face as he nuzzles into Abby’s chest. Abby already knows he’s either gonna fall asleep on her like this or on the car ride home. “It’s fine, honestly. Wouldn’t survive in this job if you weren’t used to tired kids attaching themselves to you”

You do the normal handover, giving Abby all the information about his day, meals and toileting before there’s a pause. This is where you’d both naturally fall into conversation, where you’d share something personal like an interest in books or, in Abby’s case, whatever documentary she’s watching this week.

But no, silence. Awkward silence, like neither of you want it but you both also don’t know how to end it.

“I’m sorry!” Abby says abruptly, then mentally slapping herself in the face cause she knows she could have eased into saying that. “You know, about my friends… This morning? They’ve got no sense of boundaries and they shouldn’t have started grilling you like that. It was… It was weird, I’m sorry”

Your mouth hangs slightly open, eyes a little wide like you didn’t expect her to say anything about it, which makes Abby wish she didn’t but there’s not much she can do about that now.

“No, no— it’s, uh.. It’s fine, not the first time parents have inquired about my personal life, won’t be the last.”

“Still, there’s boundaries. They— We shouldn’t have cornered you like that. I’m sorry, especially about Manny.”

The only thing that stops Abby from continuing her nervous apology spiel is your light laugh as you look at her, bottom lip drawn between your teeth. She can’t help the way her eyes are drawn to the movement, how she wishes it were her teeth your lip was caught by. She looks up just in time to see you catch her staring, which only causes the both of your faces to brighten with embarrassment.

You shake away the nervousness, shrugging casually. “No, seriously it’s fine. Besides, it’s not like there’s much to gossip about in my love life. So they were getting nothing anyway”

“Really?” Abby can’t hide the surprise from her voice, looking you up and down obviously. She couldn’t see why you wouldn’t have anything going on, you were quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls she’s ever seen.

You let out some shaky, nervous laughter as you shake your head. “Really. It’s kind of far and few to find girls who like girls here in Jackson that aren’t already taken or a word I can’t say cause there’s kids around” You let that marinate, watching Abby carefully to see her reaction.

Abby, to her credit, does her best not to react. On the outside, she’s nodding like people do to say I’m listening, continue but on the inside she feels like a teenager jumping up and down on their bed.

“Plus, work makes it difficult to meet anyone who doesn’t get it so…” You add after a beat, a little awkwardly since you didn’t get a reaction from Abby.

“I get that,” Abby adjusts Lev where he lays on her shoulder, his tiny fingers toying with the end of her braid. She’d put it in her usual style, much to your disappointment, once she’d started stress deep-cleaning the house following your interaction at the coffee shop. “I’ve not had much time to meet anyone the usual ways, always figured once I stopped working at a big hospital and stuff, I’d have time to get back out there again but…”

She had tried after the divorce, she’d had a few casual relationships but those were all before she adopted Yara and Lev. “Plus it’s hard, with the kids. Don’t want to invite someone into their lives who doesn’t get it or who might leave”

Your eyes are on Lev as you let out a wistful ‘yeah’, eyes softening when you notice his eyes fluttering closed. Abby can’t help but watch you, watch as you look at her baby boy with a look she’s only ever seen in herself, in photos captured by friends of her playing with the kids. She wants desperately to believe you’re imagining yourself as that person Abby is waiting for, that she’s not alone in being stupid for you and you her.

“It’d be nice though,” Abby’s voice sounds slightly breathy and her heart is thundering so hard in her chest as she aims for a coolness she knows in this moment she does not possess. “Plus it’d be fun to be able to have the kids going around in a circle of ‘ask your mom’ at some point, you know”

She watches you carefully as what she says finally registers in your head, eyes averted from her gaze but moving up slightly, as if looking at an invisible camera on The Office. A soft intake of breath as you slowly nod, swallowing thickly as you process. “Yeah, pretty sure that’s every queer mom’s right of passage” You say slowly after a moment, a short laugh falling from your lips.

You look like you want to say something else, but your eyes drift to Lev again and soften with a smile. “You should, uh… You should probably head home. Someone’s decided to call it a night while we were here yapping”

Abby cranes her neck to look down at her son, softly snoring against her chest and leaving a nice wet patch of drool on the neckline of her t-shirt. “Guess I should…”

Awkwardly, she tries to toss his backpack over her shoulder but it’s difficult to get it to stay without jostling Lev. She freezes slightly when she feels you start to help, your soft hands against her skin as you position the backpack so it will stay. She could have swore your hands linger, as it tracing the muscles in her arms before you let go of her.

“See you tomorrow?” Abby mumbles as she leaves, feeling like her heart is about to race out of her chest. Unknowingly, she leaves you in the same state.

Later that night, when all the children have gone home and the daycare is getting closed down for the night, Caroline walks by just in time to see you and Cat jumping up and down and around in circles, hands clutched together as you both chant “She’s gay! She’s gay, she’s gay, she’s gay!” excitebly over and over.

You may have chickened out of asking Abby out on a date, or even to hang out as friends, but there was still some cause for celebration. “Whole tab at the Bison, huh?” she calls to Arlene when she appears behind her a second later, the manager beside her. The older woman grumbles, but her motherly smile is beaming at you and Cat. “That girls gonna be drinkin’ like a fish on your card, that’s for sure, ‘Lene”

Abby should have known something was up the moment she got three separate messages all relating to going out to the Tipsy Bison on Friday night. It started casually late Thursday morning during a lull between patients, opening the groupchat to see Dina’s message.

[ Dina ] : Guys we should get sitters and go to the Bison tomorrow, let loose

Simple, casual. Nothing she found suspicious, because there was always a message in the groupchat about hanging out. That’s the issue with being a group of friends with young kids, you can say you want to make plans until your throat goes dry but actually getting said plans out of the groupchat? Practically impossible, especially if they don’t involve aforementioned kids.

Abby expected this to be the same, and maybe she should have questioned it when later that night the groupchat exploded with sudden interest from everyone. It was strange, how this one night everyone seemed able to commit to plans with barely twenty-four hours notice but Abby just shrugged it off. She didn’t confirm or deny if she was going, phone left open in her hand as she falls asleep on the sofa that night.

It definitely should have been suspicious when Jesse shouts her name during drop-off in the morning, catching Abby just before he drops JJ in as Abby’s about to leave, and asks if she’s going with them.

“No, sorry, can’t. Wouldn’t have been able to book a sitter so last minute even if I tried” Abby shrugs, waving her friend off. And yet, somehow she still ends up in the dimly lit bar later that night, Dina’s mischievous smirk being kissed off her face by her wife.

Abby’s still not sure how she ended up being talked into coming, or how Joel Miller ended up stuck babysitting not only his step-grandson but Abby’s kids as well; All she knows is Jesse walked away and she was left dazed and confused, like she’d just entered a deal with the devil.

They’re all stood at the bar with the exception of Mel and Nora who were saving their seats at one of the few round tables in the bar big enough to fit the size of their group. Manny’s buying the first round, which translates more to flirting with the new bartender. At least, she’s new to Abby — It’s been a while since she’s been out drinking like this, most nights when she needs a stiff drink she just curls up with scotch after putting the kids to bed.

Abby can’t help but feel like there’s a certain energy though that falls over the group, a weird layer of excitement and deception but that may be because Dina has a devilish smirk on her face and it’s been directed at Abby since they stepped foot into the bar.

“Okay, what’s your damage tonight?” Abby finally asks when the group return to their table, sitting with her back to the bar trays in hand with the amount of drinks Manny decided to order in this first round. Abby’s already picturing herself on a liquid IV just looking at the tray solely holding shots. She has to shout to be heard, the music loud and the bar crowded, voices overlapping

It’s addressed to the table as a whole but Dina, ever the ringleader, takes the bait first. “What? Can’t a girl be excited we’re all out for once. Drinking.”

Abby narrows her eyes as she reaches her hand out to grab a shot, looking around at the group. It’s not just Dina who makes her suspicious now, it’s everyone. Manny, for the most part, is quiet — which is worse. She can see Nora and Mel whispering back and forth in each others ear and she’d try and force Owen to tell her what they’re saying, but he’s got that far off look in his eyes she recognises as him straight up disassociating while he downs his shot and then chases it with his beer of all things.

“No, no. You’re being weird,” she shouts again, crossing her large arms over her chest as she leans forward to glare at them all closer. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, can’t a group of people go out and drink on a Friday night without a reason?” Ellie shouts across the table, leaning on her tattooed arm while Dina strokes the skin idly. “Just cause we had kids doesn’t mean we can’t—”

“Abby, next rounds on you! You should go to the bar and grab them, grab them now” Dina suddenly cuts in, eyes unfocused and staring off behind the blondes head, causing Abby to look around the table at everyone’s still full drinks.

“How about when we’ve actually started drinking them” She deadpans, confused at the urgency in which Dina said it. Dina has a smile on her face, nodding like she agrees, but Abby can see her tells; the twitch at her cheek as her jaw grinds slightly, the way her eyes widen slightly as she tries to think of how to get what she wants. Her eyes glance around the table, making eye contact with each and every one of them and like dominoes falling, everyone picks up their glasses and tries to subtly start drinking faster.

“Okay, what the hell guys?!” The exasperation in her voice is clear as she throws her hands up in the air, looking around at the group. “I’ll still buy the damn drinks but this isn’t college, we don’t have to drink so much so fast”

“I just think the bar is pretty busy, going now might mean you’ll make it back in time for when we are finished?” Mel throws a soft smile Abby’s way, her eyes glancing behind Abby’s head every so often towards the bar, clearly trying to placate her. Sure, it was busy but it was a Friday night and pay-day weekend. It was bound to be, but it still wouldn’t warrant Abby needing to go back to the bar when all their drinks were barely touched.

“I’ll still be back before you guys finish your drinks if I leave when you’re half-way though them, quit chugging them” She makes the point of picking up her own beer and drinking it slowly, savouring the taste and looking at all their friends. In front of her Dina, eyes still off behind Abby’s head sighs with annoyance and sags into her chair, eyes tracking something off to the side. Ellie’s quick to pull her in by the shoulder, murmuring into her ear something Abby wouldn’t be able to hear even without the noise of the bar.

Owen changes the subject then, lessening the weird tension that’s in the air, by complaining about work. He works as a Sheriff’s Deputy in town but ever since Mel had their second kid, he’s been on permanent desk duty. Somehow, for the deputies that don’t get out once in a while, they’re filled with drama. Manny recounts how a patient was trying to get his number this morning, which everyone ignored as the usual Manny flirt-parade until he added that she was eighty-two and had three husbands under her belt.

Finally, when everyone's drinks seemed reasonably half-drunk, Abby stands without saying anything to go and order but she’s quickly stopped by Jesse. “Uh, no sweat, Abby. Dina was just jerkin’ ya around. I’ll get the next round, you just… Stay here”

Okay, back to weird.

In front of them, Nora is nodding like she thinks Jesse has had the greatest idea ever, Ellie and Dina talking over each other to get Abby to sit back down. For a group of people who seemed so determined to get Abby to the bar no less than twenty minutes ago, they seem desperate to keep her at the table now.

“Nu-uh, you guys were practically chasing me over there a while back. I’ll cover it now, b’sides — I’m probably gonna call it a night after another round or two. It’s been a long week” She’s turning around before anyone can stop her, Jesse’s hands trying and failing all too late to keep her fixed facing the group. She doesn’t notice anything at first, half expecting the bar to be on fire or gremlins doing some Coyote Ugly shit on the bar.

She walks towards the bar, through the crowds of people stood where the makeshift dancefloor and the seating meets when she sees something out of the corner of her eye. Her friends think she’s missed it, that they’re in the clear, but no. She’d recognise you anywhere.

It’s like time goes still, like someone threw a blanket over a speaker to muffle the noise of the bar. The music seems to quieten in her ears, people seem to go slower as she watches you. More specifically, watch you and Cat.

Your head is thrown back as you dance, back pressed against the other woman's chest as you both dance together. There’s drinks in both your hands, but Cat still has her free one resting casually on your hip and you seem so carefree and happy, it can’t be the first time you’ve done this.

Abby’s blue eyes unfocus slightly, looking off behind you and the sound of rowdy laughter cuts in, the noise of the bar suddenly coming back to her as she realises the rest of your coworkers are also there. There’s two older women cheering the two of you on as you look like you’re grinding your ass back against Cat’s crotch.

Right. Of course. You didn’t… You didn’t like Abby, why would you like Abby when Cat was clearly…

Abby turns to look back at her friends, already trying to figure out a way to get the hell out of the bar without making them aware but she knows she can’t do that when the first thing she sees is varying looks of pity and apology on all their faces.

They’d seen. Oh god, that was why they were trying to keep her at the table. Abby’s not sure how she has the strength to but she slowly walks back to the table and slumps down into her chair, crestfallen.

She’d been so sure you liked her, or, at least, she’d gotten her hopes up that you might just like her as much as she likes you. And after you’d both not-so-subtly confirmed to each other that you did both like girls, she thought surely that was also a point in the Y/N-likes-Abby-back column but after that display?

“Shit, I’m sorry, Abs. I didn’t— I knew they were all comin’ to the bar tonight but if.. If I knew she was gonna.. That she and Cat.. I would’ve—” Dina’s apologetic voice comes quick down Abby’s ear, the other girl having appeared suddenly and quickly over her shoulder and comforting her in a hug Abby didn’t ask for or particularly want, but allowed nonetheless.

After a moment, Abby takes a short breath and smoothes her face into a mask of calmness. She will not break down at the bar, she’s a grown-ass mother of two. She is much too old for that, especially when it’s over a crush. “I think I’m gonna head to the bathroom a sec.”

Abby doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s up and out of her chair, walking in the opposite direction and towards the dingy women’s bathrooms before anyone can stop her.

There’s a pleasant buzz in your system, that familiar state of officially drunk but just barely as you move around on the dance floor. The Tipsy Bison is relatively busy, but that’s more to do with it being payday weekend and the only bar on main street rather than actual preference. You don’t mind though, whatever gets liquor down your throat after a long week is good — especially when it’s not you that’s paying.

That’s the funny thing, you look at a group of daycare teachers and expect them to be saints, yet here they all are. A group of seven women, four of which in their early fifties feeding shots down your throat and egging each other on as you drunkenly dance with each other. It is a celebration though, as it’s not every day you discover the girl you like might like you back and that you actually might have a shot, especially in Jackson. That’s why she accepts the heavy handed drinks from Arlene like a birthday girl on her twenty-first.

The music is normally ass in here, Seth’s usual playlist a total bore but there’s a new bartender he hired that actually seems to enjoy variety in music, so when you and Cat heard a song you were both actually fans of and recognised you were pulling each other on the dance floor. You were both drunk enough, courtesy of Arlene, to not care about your surroundings and dance like you’re both at a big city club.

Cat’s arm is thrown over your shoulder, pulling your back against her chest as you both clumsily grind against each other to the beat of the song but you’re also both laughing and singing along, trying your best to not spill your drinks on the floor and make a sticky mess.

Your dancing is too close, but you two have never been more than just friends so it doesn’t feel like there’s anything wrong with it, especially since there’s nothing that feels right about it that way.

Abby on the other hand?

You could imagine how good it would feel to dance with her like this, although you both might be a little too grown up to dirty dance in a club like this. But the thought of it is nice. Your back against her chest, her sexy toned chest rubbing up against her abs and her tits? You bite your lips at the thought of it, of her hands wandering across your body.

Okay, not thoughts to have while your ass is pressed against your friend. You take a moment to reassess, suddenly very aware of your bodily functions.

Spinning around, you giggle drunkenly as you look at Cat. “Gotta hit the stalls, forgot how much I was drinking. If I’m not back in fifteen, send a rescue party — might be consoling a drunk girl”

She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way towards the toilets, but out of the corner of your eye you see two familiar faces. You can’t stop yourself, way too friendly when intoxicated as you skip along to the bar to see Dina and Mel as they buy a round.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” You say playfully but your enthusiasm is curbed when the two women's faces look less than impressed with you. You might be drunk but they don’t normally look at you like you kicked a puppy, do they? “We’re just out for drinks for payday, you two doing the same?”

You hope if maybe you point out it’s not just you that’s drunk they won’t be as annoyed, but Dina just nods, avoiding eye contact and pointedly tutting under her breath as if your very presence irritates her. Had you done something? Or was it just that detestable that you have a life outside of work? You didn’t think Dina would be that type of parent but there’s always one who surprises you.

Mel takes some pity, pointing to a table near the back as she speaks while Dina just huffs, visibly annoyed. You shift uncomfortably, regretting coming over more and more. “We’re, uh… all out, not something we do very often”

At that your interest piques, ignoring Dina’s attitude towards you. Your eyes are seeking something out, or rather someone, scanning all the heads at the table for a familiar face or a familiar back of the head but you don’t see it. She said all, didn’t she? Where’s Abby then?

As if knowing exactly what you’re searching for, Dina turns to you stern faced and with narrowed eyes, venom in them. “She’s in the bathroom, I’d say to say hi but she’s already seen how busy you were” Her arms fold over her chest and even in your intoxicated state, you can’t help but feel like you’re getting told off by your mom.

Your brows furrow in confusion, wondering when you’ve been busy all night? Did she mean when you helped Arlene and Caroline bring the trays of drinks over to the tables for their rounds? “Huh?”

But they’re gone before you can get a clearer answer, a muttered see ya from Dina before they’re walking away with their own trays of drinks. Your confused look follows them all the way back to their table, watching as Dina and Mel must say something cause suddenly they’re all looking at you. The stares vary from pitying to annoyed and you’re not sure why the feeling hurts.

You stumble away from the bar dejectedly, pushing your way into the bathroom and wincing at the stark overhead lighting. In the main bar area of the Tipsy Bison it’s all low lighting but in here, it’s broken overhead lighting that feels a little too cold in temperature and makes you look sickly no matter how you look really.

The sight of yourself in the mirror is… Well, a sight. Hair messy and slightly sweaty, your skin has a sheen to it too from the humidity you’d barely noticed inside the bar and your makeup — which was applied at six am and barely touched up after the daycare closed in the staff toilets — is also messy, eyeliner smudged under the eyes and lipstick barely there from the drinks. The dulled sound of the bars music makes you feel like you can actually think, which is maybe not the best idea cause your mind is swimming with questions.

What the hell was that? Why did it seem like Dina Woodward-Williams hated you all of a sudden? Matter of fact, why did it seem like a core group of your classes parents — not to mention your crushes best friends — disliked you to varying degrees. And speaking of your crush, what did Dina mean when she said Abby saw how busy she was?

Shit, Abby.

Didn’t she say Abby was in the toilets?

“Abs?” You say tentatively, your voice is rough, from drunkenly shouting over the music all night so everyone could hear you. She might have left, but behind you there is a closed stall.

After a few moments of silence, you hear a huff of breath and see a pair of feet appear under the crack at the bottom of the stall through the mirror. The door unlocks and she appears, looking beautiful and… Her eyes are slightly red, like she’d been crying and you can’t stop yourself as you turn around and move towards her with concern.

You go to reach out but she takes a step back and you… You can’t help but feel the pain of the rejection but you respect it. “Abs, Abby… What’s wrong, are you…”

“It’s.. ‘m fine, Y/N. S’all good” Despite this, Abby’s shaking her head and pushing past to wash her hands, clearly wanting to ignore the elephant in the room that was her crying in the bar bathroom.

“I didn’t realise you guys were here, you should have come over ‘n said hi to us”

“It’s fine, you looked busy… Like you were havin’ fun”

Busy… There’s that word again. Still, Abby doesn’t seem irritated with you the same way her friends did, just.. Deflated.

“Yeah?” Your dopey smile is wide, eyes are too as you stare up at Abby like she’s something of wonder. “You know, on the dancefloor” Abby then adds, words slightly slurred, definitely bitter. You’re not sure why.

“Oh yeah,” Your airy little giggle as you sway tipsily makes Abby want to wrap her arms around you and keep you close for the rest of the night. “Cat and I get a little crazy when something we actually know and can dance like we’re in a club comes on”

“Yeah,” Abby’s own words slur slightly, but even she’s just tipsy as she laughs lowly. Still, she’s hit that level of intoxicated tonight where she’s not even trying to hide her bitter tone. “And there you were a few weeks ago sayin’ somethin’ about barely any girls in Jackson. All along one was workin’ with you”

It takes a moment for you to process what Abby says, your sweet smile falling and brows furrowing in confusion as you shake your head. You move closer to Abby where she stands gripping the sinks. “What?”

“Your girlfriend? Saw you two dancin’ tonight, you seemed… Pretty close”

“Cat?” You ask, your voice small and confused. “Cat’s not my girlfriend, Abs. We’re just friends”

“Not what it looked like t’me, not with her hands all over you ‘n your ass against her”

Suddenly all the air in the dingy bathroom doesn’t feel like enough, not as you stare at Abby as she looks genuinely irritated at what she saw. You can understand it, even when you’re drunk like this you get why she probably thought you and Cat were a thing. You both were a little too handsy while you drank, neither thinking much of it but to an outsider? To someone who (you hoped) liked you watching from across the room?

You move closer to Abby, like a moth to flame, and crowd her up against the sinks with a needy look on your face. Your hands are either side of her, her own almost touching yours as she looks down at you with this intensity you feel yourself melting under. You want to wipe that look of jealousy, the bitterness, from her perfect face.

“Just friends, just drunk. Always get too handsy when the liquor is flowing” It’s said as a joke but your voice comes out too breathy, too soft like you’re trying to coax her into believing you.

“Her or you?” The words are heavy, loaded, like one answer could mean the difference between Abby snapping. “Both” a beat, then, “You don’t like seein’ Cat’s hands on me?”

The tension in the air is stifling, your eyes heavy not just with the alcohol but lust as you look up at Abby, mouth slightly agape as you whimper at the dark look in the other woman’s eyes. It’s answer enough about what she thinks of Cat touching you, friends or not.

Your eyes move slowly to where your hands are, moving them slowly up until your fingertips are touching Abby’s thick hands. You can hear your soft panting, feel your heart racing as you ease closer into touching her — even something as innocent as touching her hands making you feel breathless.

When you look back up at Abby, her blue eyes are dark and stormy, locked on your lips and you have to let out a shaky laugh to release some of the tension.

“This why Dina was a bitch to me at the bar?” You ask quietly so only she can hear, even though Abby is the only other person with you in the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Abby’s voice is low, rough and it sounds like pure sex to you in a way no-ones ever has. The kind of gruff voice that makes it sound like she’s parched, desperate and you have to squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache building at your core. “She got wind of your work outing. Wanted to give me a chance to make a move”

Your fingers thread through hers as she starts to speak and once you’ve got your daintier fingers interlocked with her thicker ones, still slightly wet from washing them, your hands both remain either side of Abby.

“Yeah?” Your throat feels thick, words getting caught as you say them from how affected you are. It no longer feels like you’re out in public, just caught in a bubble of yourself and Abby as you lean into her space, legs tangling so a thigh presses between hers.. It’s not just you, Abby’s starting to look equally as wrecked by the sudden proximity between the two of you.

Maybe it’s the alcohol.. Okay it’s definitely the alcohol that’s making you both this reckless. Both your chests are rising and falling quickly, small panting breaths falling from each of your lips as you both teeter on the edge.

“Would you of?”

“You were dancing with her” Abby’s voice is low, her breath hot against your cheek as your faces seem achingly close. You can hear the disgust in her voice when she says her.

Between your thighs you can feel how embarrassingly affected you are by the other woman, by the thought of her making a move on you. What if you'd danced with her tonight, got to feel everything you were thinking of when you danced with Cat.

“I was thinking about you the whole time” The words come out as a whimpered confession, like you were having flashbacks to every sinful fantasy that came to mind as you danced of Abby and you have to bite at your bottom lip to stop from letting out an embarrassing sounding whine.

Of course, Abby tracks that movement almost instantly and you can see her eyes dilating at the sight. Her expression is still dark though and she raises a single brow as she stares down at you, lips so achingly close to yours. “Yeah? Wanted t’be me you were being a little slut for out there?”

That shouldn’t make your heart race and your mouth dry the way it does, slowly your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you pant softly. You had a million ideas of what Abby might be like in this situation, if she’d be a gentlewoman and wax poetic in your ear, a downright tease or if she’d talk dirty, degrade you while making your body light up.

Your eyes are fixed on Abby’s, but they’re heavy lidded with lust and say so much while saying nothing at all. It’s pure need, desperation the way you look at her because yes, you did want it to be her you were grinding against, you wanted it to be her whose hands were on you only so her fingers would ghost across your skin and so you could tease her with your body.

And the best part is you can see it mirrored in her own eyes, see the hunger and the desperation bleeding through. Abby looks like she’s hanging on to her final restraint, the one thing holding her back from jumping you and that desire you see in her? It feels good. It feels good to know it’s not just you, that it’s potentially never just been you that’s wanted this.

You nod up at her over and over, the desperation bleeding out. God, you want her, need her and it feels like pure torture to have her this close finally and not taste her on your tongue.

“God, please let me touch you, kiss you, ‘nythin..” Abby’s voice is wrecked as she speaks and she has that same look of need in her eyes you’re sure is reflected in yours. You’re not sure how you answer, another nod, a whine but next thing you know her lips are on yours and her tongue is sliding against yours, the kiss messy and dirty as your hands go to each other's bodies.

You’ve got your hands all over the place, one fisted in her hair messing up that pristine fucking braid you’ve daydreamed of for months and the other touching her everywhere. It’s against her throat in a light hold one moment, moving down her chest and groping at her small, perfect tits the next. It’s pushing up her shirt and raking the nails against her torso, her abs quivering under your touch, then it’s lower pushing her legs open wider so you can press closer and repeat how it roams.

It’s not just you that’s handsy now either, Abby lets you keep your faces pressed firmly together greedily and takes full advantage of having both hands to explore your body. God, your perfect body. Her imagination did not compare to actually feeling your skin beneath her fingers, feeling each reaction to her touch. How her large hands could hold your tits and grope them easily while you mewled into her mouth, a needy mess (not that she was much better)

“Thought about this f’months,” Abby murmurs, voice low and fucked out, as she breaks the kiss to drag a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. Her hand moves to the back of your neck to manoeuvre you enough so she’s got the perfect angle, perfect access to as much skin as she can reach as she leans down. “You’re so fucking perfect”

All you can do is whine, rocking your hips forward so your clothed cunt can drag against Abby’s jean-clad thigh and press your own thigh against her too. “Shut the fuck up, am not. You’re the one… Fucking look at you” The words are said so breathlessly and yet with such adoration, such belief that Abby can’t help but pull her lips away from your neck just long enough to gaze at your face adoringly. The both of you are biting back small noises and clinging onto each other as you both rock slowly against each other.

Abby’s almost shaking with need as your hands slide down to her hips, holding them firmly and forcing her to grind against your thigh. “I-I need you… I need you so bad” Her husky voice whimpers, forehead falling against yours as she feels herself grower wetter in her boxers. It takes everything in you not to moan at how easily Abby has become submissive under your touch, how quickly she’s started to become lost under the pleasure.

Not that you’re doing much better, eyes rolling shut as you move against Abby’s thigh and feel the drag of fabric against your clit. You’re nodding softly, hand coming up to her jaw to capture her in another tender but hungry kiss, half-devouring her as she whines into your mouth. Your hand is sliding down to her jeans, fingers unbuttoning them when the bathroom door slams open. You both pull apart slightly, eyes wide in shock and embarrassment and skin flushed as you’re caught dry humping each other against the sinks by Cat.

Cat who doubles over with laughter when she sees the two of you, clutching onto the hand-dryer for support only to accidentally turn it on. “You said come and get you if you were long” she shouts over the dryer, shaking her head and smirking. “Congrats guys but maybe take this back home so Seth doesn’t go all… Seth on you guys”

She doesn’t even wait for a response, stumbling back out into the bar laughing leaving you and Abby half embraced and feeling like ice water has been thrown on you both. Slowly, nervously, you turn and look back up to Abby. You’re not sure why but now you’ve both been shaken out of the haze of lust and drunken courage you’re worried that maybe, just maybe Abby might be having second thoughts.

“Abby?” Your heart is racing again, lip drawn between your teeth as you worry it. God, what if clarity hit and she’s sobering up enough to realise she doesn’t want this. That you should have never crossed the line. Shit, her kids involved in this, she’s probably already regretting it. You’re visibly spiralling, eyes wide and worried.

Abby’s large hands come down to cup your cheeks, the pads of her thumbs softly brushing against your cheeks soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down” The words are spoken so gently as she moves the two of you around so your back is to the sinks, and she gently lifts you up so you’re sitting on the counter top. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Fuck, she’s perfect and it only makes you more nervous. You let out a shaky sounding breath, a sad look on your face curtesy of your drunken emotions. “I… really like you, Abby. Like, really really like you a-and I don’t want this to be something you’re regretting, cause I know you’ve got your kids and I get that if you don’t wanna carry on ca—”

Abby cuts you off, shaking her head and looking at you with such a soft, sad look. “When did I say I’m regretting anything? Or that I don’t wanna keep seeing you? Shit, I’ve been thinking about you since I met you so I don’t think I could stop if I tried”

“But Lev and Yara, I don’t wanna make things complicated for you or for them”

“Leave my kids to me, okay? I know what I’m doing, I know what I want. I want you, I’ve been wanting you and I don’t just want you in bed.”

That gets your attention, looking up at her with a hopeful glint in your eye and an excited smile threatening to curl at your lips. “Yeah, really?”

“Yeah, silly. I want you at the dinner table with us, ‘wanna see you on Saturday mornin’s in your pajamas cooking eggs and waiting for the coffee with me before the kids wake up.” Her stupid, beautiful face is lit up with a fond smile. You lean into her touch, her hands still cradling your face as she speaks. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been thinking about you in other ways too but… I’m not regretting this, but if you don’t think you’re—”

“I’m not, I-I mean I’m not regretting this, not that I’m not ready. I want.. I want that too. I want all of it” Laughter spills from both of you at your panicked and nervous babbling, leading into a comfortable silence. It feels like the outside world slowly starts seeping in, the muffled sound of the bar’s music and peoples talking becoming more audible — like the bubble the two of you were in finally popped.

Slowly, Abby moves her hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear and press a soft kiss to your forehead. “What do you say, wanna listen to Cat and get out of here?”

A wide, unapologetic grin is stretched wide across your lips at the thought of leaving with her, of this being real and not just a figment of her imagination anymore. “What, not into people walking in on us kissing, Abs?”

“Not if I can help it.” Easily she kisses you one last time, short but thorough before she’s helping you jump down from the counter top and throwing an arm around your shoulders. You can still taste her on your tongue as you both pull the bathroom door open and walk back out into the bar, intent on leaving and going home, whoever's home that may be. And if, over the loud music and crowd, the two of you can hear cheering and shouts from both groups of friends, you both choose to ignore it.

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