[ contains:] sexting(?) she’s so whiny, body hair mention. Gf!Loser Abby!, blurb/drabble.
You are at work. what else is she supposed to do?
Even the smell of cardboard and the task at hand couldn’t distract your girlfriend from the ache between her legs.
Her arms, slightly sore from packing all day—you two were finally moving in together. She beamed at the idea of having access to you at all times. It was so close to being a reality, which made days like this, you being away, even harder.
Hypersexual? No. But hopelessly in love with you? Absolutely. So naturally, when you sent her a video of you at work—all modest, professional—but those high necklines did nothing to stop her eyes from following the lines of your body. She’s seen it bare, but her body was reacting like she hadn’t. All she had to do was wait until 5 p.m. But the minutes felt excruciatingly slow. Then the 20-minute drive to her place, plus rush hour—oh God, she couldn’t bear it.
The image of you smiling, showing her your outfit each morning, would usually have her grinning like an idiot, saving the photo to her “Sunshine” album full of you, and trying to act like she didn’t wait by the door like a dog for its owner once you were off.
So now, her t-shirt sat tugged between her teeth, lifted to showcase her state. A flushed face, complimented by her heavy breathing. Trimmed blonde happy trail leading to her oozing folds. Her arousal dripping down to her anus. Her slightly shaky hands hovered over the screen. She shouldn’t. You had a whole hour left at work. But she was already past the point of making good decisions, so—
Send.
It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourself and take a deep breath, prepared to scold her. Or at least, you planned on it. But hearing her soft pleas was breaking your resolve.
synopsis: abby was perfectly fine with a college life built around classes and the occasional hangout with friends, until everything shifted the moment your eyes met hers. from that second on, you didn’t hold back. you were set on making her your precious possession.
cw: college au, reader is fem presenting, reader is a walking red flag, alcohol, drugs, manipulation, abby being adorable, not proofread
One of the first things Abby picked up when she stepped onto campus for her first day was your name. Right from the start, she heard all kinds of rumors floating around about you. Most weren’t bad. A lot of the people she talked to weren’t exactly in your circle, but somehow, everyone knew who you were. And her classmates would say you weren’t as bad as the rest of your crew.
Having been accepted into one of the most exclusive universities in the country, Abby knew exactly what kind of people she would be forced to deal with for the next few years. The campus was crowded with boys showing off their luxury cars in the parking lot and girls parading around in designer clothes and handbags that cost more than a year of tuition. She knew that getting involved with those kinds of people would always cause trouble, so after listening to her seniors’ advice and following the steps of every other student who didn’t belong in that world, she decided to keep her distance, content to judge them from afar.
And among all those spoiled rich kids, there was your group. And because fate apparently loved to play games with her life, she was now on her way to your house to work on a group project with you and two of your friends. She remembered perfectly the moment when the professor had called her name together with yours. Her heart had started beating so fast that she thought she might have a heart attack right there in the classroom. And when she glanced your way and your eyes met, she could’ve sworn she caught a quick smirk on your lips before you turned back to your friends.
Abby really tried not to feel anything for you. But like the overwhelming majority of the campus, she wasn’t immune to your charms. She didn’t know exactly when it had started, but without realizing it, she had memorized your schedule. In her free time, Abby would watch you from a distance. She saw you interacting with your obnoxious friends, observed you during the few classes you shared, and went to the same coffee shop every day just to catch a glimpse of you before her day began. Still, she never had the courage to actually talk to you, which was why she now found herself a bundle of nerves.
Abby didn’t know what to expect. You seemed far too friendly in the brief messages you two had exchanged. The other girls in the group hadn’t even bothered to check the messages, let alone reply. Abby had suggested working in the library, but you quickly dismissed the idea, saying they needed a more private place where they could really dive into the project. You suggested your house, and before she could protest, you had already sent your address.
She would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt nervous during the entire conversation. She felt a little silly about it, but there was something in the way you worded things that revealed how self-assured you were and how much you expected everyone to follow your lead. For some reason, that only made her feel more drawn to you.
After her entrance was approved, Abby drove through the gates of the mansion, and for an instant her stomach turned. The entrance was imposing, lined with perfectly manicured gardens and an elegant fountain in the center that looked like it belonged in an architecture magazine. Exterior lights illuminated the modern facade, all clean lines and enormous glass windows reflecting the blue sky. The iron gates closed silently behind her as she drove along the long paved driveway, finally parking in a reserved area already filled with luxury cars.
Abby took a deep breath, turned off the engine, and for a moment simply stared at the mansion. It was impossible not to feel small in front of such grandeur. The details of the facade blended modernity with elegance, and everything seemed calculated to impress. She climbed the steps to the entrance and, with a slightly trembling hand, rang the bell.
It wasn’t you who opened the door, but one of the girls from the group. Her smile was brief and devoid of enthusiasm, more formality than welcome. She muttered that Abby had finally arrived, told her to close the door behind her, and to follow. Abby did as she was told, trying to ignore the sting of discomfort that the indifferent reception caused.
The interior of the mansion was even more impressive than the facade. The entry hall opened into a vast space with a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling and walls decorated with contemporary art. The polished marble floors reflected the soft lighting, and a subtle scent hung in the air, expensive and sophisticated, though Abby couldn’t place it. As they walked through the corridors, she noticed details that spoke of understated luxury: alcoves with sculptures, vases of fresh flowers, fine rugs placed strategically on the floor. It was like walking through the pages of a design magazine.
When they reached the living room, Abby noticed how everything seemed designed to convey perfection. Immaculate white sofas, elegant curtains flowing down to the floor, a modern fireplace lit purely for aesthetics, and a glass coffee table decorated with bottles of whiskey, crystal glasses, and snacks. And there you were, sitting on one of the sofas as if you belonged to the décor itself, your gestures and posture so naturally elegant they seemed rehearsed.
“You finally made it.” you said, your lips curving into a mischievous smile for a fraction of a second before softening into something friendly. The change would have gone unnoticed if Abby hadn’t been paying attention, but the playful gleam in your eyes betrayed that it hadn’t been her imagination. “I thought you’d ditched us.”
Abby swallowed hard as all eyes turned toward her. She lingered by the entrance to the living room, aware of how her simple jeans, basic shirt, and old jacket clashed with the branded clothes and expensive accessories around her. Her glasses only made her feel more out of place. But even as part of her knew she didn’t belong in that world of wealth and confidence, the discomfort felt distant. None of it really mattered, because all her attention was on you. You were the center of everything. You were the reason she was there, the one she wanted to impress more than anything.
“I’m sorry. It was kind of hard to find your house.” Abby’s voice was low and rushed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her jacket as if that could contain her nerves. She tried not to look away from you, but her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. The silence that followed seemed endless, and she held her breath, waiting for your response.
You tilted your head slightly, as though analyzing every detail of her. Your gaze slid slowly down her hesitant posture, her plain clothes that contrasted with the luxurious setting, and then back to her face. When it returned, a small smile formed on your lips, and Abby had the strange feeling that she was being measured and, somehow, approved.
“Yeah, my mom likes her privacy.” you answered calmly, crossing one leg over the other and resting an arm casually along the back of the sofa. Your voice was so steady and natural that Abby shrank a little inside, as if her own insecurity had just been laid bare. Yet, at the same time, there was an unexpected warmth in hearing you speak to her directly, a simple detail that made all the discomfort worthwhile.
“Who are you again?” one of your friends asked, frowning at her as he lounged lazily on the sofa.
“Abby Anderson.” you replied before she could, smiling as if her name tasted sweet in your mouth. And even though you were answering your friend, your eyes never left hers. The way your lips moved with each syllable seemed intentional, and Abby almost forgot to breathe, as if hearing her name in your voice was something extraordinary. “Don’t mind him. He’s high.”
“I’m only here for the free food.” he laughed, raising his joint in a mock toast. His laughter echoed through the room, clashing with the uncomfortable silence surrounding Abby.
She tried not to grimace as he took another drag from his joint. The heavy mix of weed and alcohol lingered in the air, oppressive and unpleasant. Abby’s sensitive nose recoiled, but she forced herself to hold a polite, if awkward, smile.
Even if she tried to mask it, her discomfort was clear. But deep down, there was a strange satisfaction in realizing that her eyes still didn’t leave you. You chuckled softly at your friend’s remark and nudged his leg lightly with your own. “Go to the kitchen then.” Your tone was light and playful, but he laughed idiotically again, clearly not grasping the hint.
Abby blinked quickly, trying to process the scene, and for a moment she was struck by the effortless authority in your presence. You hadn’t raised your voice or shown irritation. A command disguised as a joke had been enough for everyone to understand what you meant. The contrast between your calm authority and your carefree smile sent a shiver down Abby’s spine.
Noticing he hadn’t taken the hint, you leaned in slightly, your smile still in place, and nudged his leg again. Your eyes narrowed just a little, and Abby caught the flash of authority hidden behind your charm. “Now.” you said softly, low enough that only he could hear.
The shift was instant. As if suddenly deciphering your expression, he stood quickly, stumbling slightly to the side. Abby’s eyes followed him out of instinct, but all she could really think about was you. The calm steadiness of your voice, the subtlety of your smile, the quiet authority in your every move.
Before leaving the room, he grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey from the table and staggered off toward the kitchen. Abby let out a barely audible sigh without realizing it. She was nervous, yes, but more than that, she was spellbound. All she could think about was how you seemed to command the room effortlessly, and how badly she wanted to be worthy of your approval.
“Let’s go to the balcony. The weather is far too nice to stay indoors.” you said, rising gracefully. Your tone sounded like a suggestion, but your voice carried the natural authority of someone used to being followed.
“They’re not coming with us?” Abby asked, gesturing subtly toward your friends, who were still glued to their phones. There was caution in her tone, but also genuine curiosity.
You let out a small laugh. “We have a better chance at getting an A if they don’t help with the project.”
Abby raised her brows slightly, surprised at the blunt honesty. You leaned in as if sharing a private joke. “Trust me, it’s a miracle they can even spell their own names.”
One of your friends burst out laughing without looking up from her screen. The other pouted before holding up her phone. “Who cares? I just hit two million followers on Instagram.”
You didn’t hesitate. You reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze like a little reward. “Seriously? That’s awesome! Congrats, babe.”
That was all it took to erase the pout from her lips, her face lighting up with pride at your approval. “Come on, let’s go outside.” you said, and Abby followed without thinking, as if the simple act of going with you was the most natural thing in the world.
On the balcony, the fresh air brought Abby some relief. She breathed deeply and, as she opened her bag to take out her notebook, she no longer felt as nervous. This was her territory, the place where she felt secure: among ideas, notes, and pages filled with her effort.
“I started writing the first part of the project.” she said, her voice now firm, her gaze meeting yours with more confidence. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s one of my favorite subjects.”
You arched a brow, intrigued. “Not at all. Can I read it?”
“Of course.” Abby handed over the pages, her fingers brushing yours lightly as you took the notebook. Inside, her heart still raced, but this time with expectation. She wanted to see your reaction, wanted you to notice that she had value.
As you read, your eyes moved slowly over each line, and Abby studied your expression with rapt attention. The tension in her shoulders began to ease when she saw your brows lift slightly, as though you were genuinely impressed.
“This is really great, Abby.” you said, finally looking up from the page. Your smile was quick, a little crooked, but warm and the spark in your eyes said it wasn’t just you being polite.
A quiet sense of pride rose in her chest. “Really? You don’t think it’s too surface-level? I mean… if you want, we can start fresh.”
You shook your head right away, still clutching the notebook like it was something special. “No way. This is perfect. Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve pulled it off this well.”
Abby smiled back, and this time it wasn’t timid. There was satisfaction there, almost vanity. For the first time that afternoon, she didn’t feel out of place. On the contrary, she felt seen.
You kept the notebook in your hands a moment longer before setting it aside, your eyes never leaving hers. A slow smile curved across your lips. “Let’s work. I should make myself useful now.”
Abby’s heart raced again, but differently this time. It wasn’t nerves; it was the sweet taste of the approval she had longed for.
You both started working on the project. Each focused on her own part, but every so often, you could feel Abby’s gaze on you. Quick, almost shy glances, but insistent, as if she couldn’t help checking to make sure you were still there, close to her. And each time you caught her in the act, Abby quickly looked away, biting her lip and pretending to refocus on her notes.
After a few minutes of productive silence, one of your friends approached. “Are you two done already?”
“No, not yet. But let’s take a break.” you answered, pushing your laptop aside with a tired sigh. You stretched lightly, every movement graceful even in fatigue, before your eyes found Abby’s. “Would you like something to drink? Maybe something to eat?”
Abby blinked in surprise and shifted in her seat. “Maybe just some water.”
You glanced at your friend, who, without needing more than a look from you, immediately understood and disappeared into the house to fetch what you had asked for. Abby watched silently, amazed at how naturally everyone seemed to move around you, as if they orbited you, desperate for your approval.
“You and your friends… you seem close.” Abby said softly, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.
“Oh yeah, we’re very close.” you replied, your eyes gleaming as though recalling something. “They’re like my second family.”
What you’d never admit to her was the quiet satisfaction you felt watching people as wealthy as you, so used to being waited on, move around you like they were your own staff.
Abby fell quiet for a moment, letting those words sink in. Her chest tightened in a strange way, a mix of tenderness and longing. She wanted so badly to be part of that world, to be included in that circle of trust that seemed unbreakable. More than that, she wanted to be that person for you, someone you spoke of with the same affection.
“But what about you?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “I bet you have lots of friends.”
Abby let out a soft laugh, not exactly amused, more like a quiet sigh. “I mean, I do have friends… they’re just at a different college.”
“That sucks.” you murmured, and the smile you gave her was gentle, sincere in its sympathy. Your eyes lingered on her face a little longer than necessary, as if searching for something hidden, a crack in her reserve.
She held your gaze, her heart racing at the intensity of the moment. Something in your expression made her believe you were genuinely interested, and that gave her a spark of courage.
“Hey, so…” you started, leaning back in your chair, voice dropping a little like you were sharing a secret. “A friend of mine own this nightclub, and she’s throwing a party there tomorrow. Pretty much everyone’s going. You should come too. Might be a good chance to make some friends… you know, besides me.”
The words were light, but Abby clung to the end of your sentence. Besides me. It was as if, without meaning to, you had placed yourself at the center of her world, acknowledging that you were already too important not to be mentioned. Abby gave a small, shy smile, but beneath it was pride and happiness. Because to her, it wasn’t about the party, the nightclub, or other friends. All that really mattered was you.
The line to enter the club stretched along the sidewalk, full of excited people laughing loudly and talking about the night that was only just beginning. Abby felt a few curious glances as she approached the entrance, but she did not hesitate. The security guard stopped her, asking for her name.
“Anderson. Abby Anderson.”
He checked the list in his hands and quickly stepped aside, motioning for her to go in. Behind her, Abby heard a frustrated murmur from those still waiting in line, but she paid no attention. You had put her name down, and that was all that mattered. The feeling of being invited by you, of having a place reserved at your side, warmed her chest in an unexpected way.
The moment she crossed through the doors, the world changed. The club was huge, lit by flashes of red, blue, and purple lights that pulsed to the rhythm of the deafening music. The bass shook the floor beneath her feet while bodies moved together on the dance floor as if they were a single wave. The air was heavy with the smell of alcohol, expensive perfume, and smoke, almost intoxicating.
Abby took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sensation of being out of place in that space where everyone seemed to shine in some way. Yet there was still something about her that drew attention: the black pants, the matching black shirt that emphasized her muscular frame, the blonde braid draped over her shoulder, and the glasses that were so much a part of her. But her blue eyes were consumed by only one thing: the anticipation of finding you.
And then, finally, she did.
You were at the bar, illuminated by the lights that shimmered against the short black dress that hugged your silhouette perfectly. Your high heels accentuated your presence even more, and every movement seemed calculated to be magnetic. Abby felt the air escape her lungs. You were dazzling, almost unreal.
“Abby…” you called when you saw her approaching. Your voice carried surprise and a spark of admiration. Your eyes traced over her body slowly, and then a smile curved across your lips. “You look beautiful.”
For a moment, Abby thought she had imagined it. The tension in her chest melted into warmth, and she pressed her hands against the sides of her pants to hide her nerves. Still, she could not mask the flush rising on her cheeks.
“Thank you.” she murmured softly, almost hesitant, but sincere. And in her mind, a single devastating thought echoed: you look perfect.
“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, leaning closer. The sweet scent of your skin reached Abby, and it felt as though nothing else around her mattered except you.
“Maybe… water.” Abby answered, trying to sound calm even as her heart raced too fast.
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as if that response neither surprised nor disappointed you. It was just… typical of her.
“Of course… water for you.” you said, your smile lingering almost enigmatically. Then you turned back toward her, resting your elbow on the counter and letting your hand touch your chin. “You know… I was bored before you got here. It feels like my night is finally about to begin.”
The flush on Abby’s cheeks deepened instantly. She swallowed hard, adjusting her glasses nervously as if that could hide the way her whole body reacted to your words. She’s flirting with me. She’s really flirting with me.
“I… I’m glad I can… make your night better.” Abby tried to respond, stumbling over the first words but regaining confidence at the end, firm enough not to shrink.
You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as if testing her limits. “Just glad? That’s disappointing… I thought you’d be excited to see me.”
Abby’s legs trembled, but she didn’t look away. Her face burned, yet she forced herself to be brave because it was you, and she did not want to waste the chance. “I was… very excited. I spent the whole day thinking about it, actually.”
Your smile widened, pleased with the confession, and you tilted your head, studying her as if she had just become even more interesting. Inside, Abby felt exposed, but at the same time a quiet pride bloomed in her chest for making you smile like that.
“So, Abby…” you began, slowly stirring the straw in your drink as if you were pondering something trivial. But the playful curve on your lips already gave away the teasing that was about to follow. “What are your hobbies besides following me around campus?”
Abby’s heart stopped for a moment. The shock ran through her body so strongly that she almost let the glass slip from her hand.
“I—what?!” she stammered, her blue eyes wide, fixed on you as if trying to figure out whether you were serious or just joking. The blush spread violently across her face, reaching even her ears. “How do you… how do you know that?”
Your laugh was soft and easy, almost musical, and your smile stretched even wider. You leaned in just a bit, like you were about to share something just between the two of you.
“You’re kinda hard to miss, Abby.”
The sound of your voice mixed with the choice of words made her heart race again, but now for an entirely different reason. The blush didn’t fade; on the contrary, it felt as if she were burning from the inside out. Abby looked away for a second, trying to catch her breath and regain her composure before facing you again.
She still felt the words stuck in her throat when you leaned even closer. The sweet and intoxicating scent of your perfume made her chest tighten, and before she could think of anything else, you had already let your hand glide along her arm in a soft touch that sent shivers across her skin.
“Wanna know a secret?” your voice dropped, soft and low, like it was meant just for her.
Abby’s eyes widened, frozen in place, while you paused deliberately, moving even closer. The heat of your body wrapped around her, and when your gaze dropped to her lips, Abby felt she was about to lose her mind. Her heart pounded so fast it felt like it might tear through her chest.
“I was watching you too.” you finished, your mouth now just inches from hers.
Abby’s world spun. She could barely breathe, torn between a nervousness so intense she thought she might faint and a surge of happiness rushing through her. You began leaning in for the kiss, and she closed her eyes for a second, surrendering to the moment…
But the sharp voice of one of your friends cut through the air.
“Hey!”
You froze, closing your eyes with frustration before slowly turning your head. Your friend hurried toward you, out of breath, eyes wide.
“Please, you have to help me. Some people started a fight… please, I need your help.”
You took a deep breath, biting back the words you really wanted to say. The exhaustion on your face betrayed your irritation at being interrupted, but you swallowed it down, letting out only a heavy sigh before stepping away from Abby.
Immediately, Abby protested, reaching out to grab your arm, panic flickering in her gaze.
“Wait, I’m going with you.” Her voice was firm, but there was a genuine fear in it, as if the thought of you facing danger alone consumed her.
“No, stay here. I’ll be back soon.” you said in a tone that left no room for argument.
“What are you going to do?” Abby pressed, eyes locked on yours, as if desperate for reassurance you wouldn’t be at risk.
“I’m just going to politely tell them to leave.” you replied, then let out a short laugh, dripping with irony, as though you didn’t believe your own words.
With one last look at Abby, you turned and followed your friend toward the chaos, leaving her behind with her heart still pounding.
Time seemed to drag as you handled the situation on the other side of the club. A few sharp words, a few people practically dragged outside… nothing you weren’t used to dealing with. But inside, all you wanted was to return to Abby.
And when you finally came back to the main floor, the sight that greeted you was enough to sink your mood.
Abby was surrounded. Three, maybe four girls clustered around her, laughing loudly, trying to get her attention, one of them even touching her arm as an excuse to lean closer. Abby, still holding her glass of water, looked uncomfortable yet at the same time her flushed cheeks betrayed that she didn’t know how to handle so much attention all at once.
You stopped where you stood, watching the scene from a distance. The small smile Abby gave one of the girls made something twist in your stomach. Your expression hardened immediately, and you crossed your arms over your chest, taking a deep breath to keep from exploding.
That was when one of your friends appeared, stumbling toward you with a half-full drink in hand. The strong smell of alcohol preceded him, and the crooked grin on his face made it clear he was far from sober.
He followed your gaze to Abby, then back to you. A rough chuckle slipped from his lips.
“I talked to her for like two seconds and suddenly she’s the most interesting person on campus?” you muttered sarcastically, your lips curving into a bitter smile as you folded your arms tighter.
Your friend burst out laughing, shaking his head as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “Looks like you’ve got competition, princess.” He leaned in, his alcoholic breath hitting your face as he added maliciously, “What are you gonna do about it?”
You turned to face him, eyes burning with disgust and anger, as if he were the last person you wanted to hear from. Without a word, you snatched the drink from his hand.
And holding his gaze, you raised the glass and downed it in one go, feeling the alcohol scorch your throat.
You stood there for minutes, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Abby as she gave nervous laughs in the middle of the little circle of girls around her. Every time one of them leaned closer, every time Abby smiled shyly, your anger grew stronger.
The alcohol burning in your throat didn’t help. The bitter taste mixed with jealousy only made everything more intense. You wanted to push through the crowd and tear each of them away from her, but no. Not yet. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, to calm down.
Slowly, you let go of the bitterness, almost as if shedding your skin. A lazy, careless smile formed on your lips, one that masked the storm inside perfectly. Your body relaxed as you slipped into a new role, that of someone simply too drunk and too vulnerable.
Your steps were calculated, even if they looked unsteady, as you crossed the floor toward Abby.
Her blue eyes lifted the moment you approached, and the circle of girls instantly lost their relevance. She stepped forward, worry etched across her face.
“Are you okay? I was worried.” her voice was steady, but tinged with nervousness, as if she had been holding onto those words for too long.
You raised your eyes to her, letting your head tilt slightly, and let your voice slip out slow and dragged, full of feigned regret.
“I’m fine, I just… I just think I drank too much.”
Her reaction was immediate. Abby reached out, holding your arm carefully, her touch firm but gentle as if she feared hurting you. The tension in her shoulders revealed how instantly alert she had become, completely focused on you.
You bit the inside of your lip, hiding the laugh threatening to escape. It was almost ridiculous how easy she was.
“Can you take me home?” you asked, your voice soft with a touch of staged fragility. “I’d ask one of my friends, but… they’re having so much fun. I don’t want to ruin their night.”
Abby didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, of course. I’ll take you.” Her answer came fast, almost impatient, leaving no room for doubt.
Her hand slid to your waist, steady, guiding you naturally as she led you out of the club. The warmth of her palm against your skin sent a shiver racing through your body, and you almost allowed yourself a smile, mocking how easy it had been to convince her.
On the sidewalk, Abby opened the car door for you, leaning down to help. She held the seatbelt and pulled it across your body, fastening it carefully, as if you were too precious for any detail to be handled carelessly.
Then she walked around and slid into the driver’s seat. She started the engine, the growl filling the tense silence between the two of you.
The drive was quick, quiet, the only sound the muffled music still spilling faintly from the club behind you.
The car stopped in front of your house, and you didn’t waste time pulling Abby along with you, guiding her to the bedroom with hurried steps. She seemed hesitant, but she didn’t question it, only followed at your side with that worry still written in her blue eyes.
As soon as you entered, you closed the door behind you and turned the key in the lock. The dry click echoed in the silent room, and Abby stopped immediately in the middle of the space, her body stiff. The confusion was clear in every feature of her face.
You approached slowly, your eyes fixed on hers, and tried once again to close the distance, leaning in to kiss her. But Abby stepped back, her breath caught.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice low, almost alarmed.
A slow smile formed on your lips as you let the dress slip off your shoulders. “We’re alone now…” you murmured, revealing the lace fabric of your bra under the soft glow of the lamp.
Abby’s eyes widened, panic written in every detail. Before you could continue, she moved forward, grasping your hands firmly to stop the dress from falling any further.
“You don’t know what you’re doing… you’re drunk… we can’t do this.” Her voice sounded urgent, almost pleading, as if she were trying to protect you from yourself.
It was in that instant that the truth hit you hard. You had made a mistake. Abby was too proper. Too… good.
“No, don’t worry, I’m fine…” you insisted, trying to move closer again, but she dodged with determination.
Without leaving room for further protests, Abby took your hand and began leading you to the bathroom. “I’m going to help you get ready for bed. You need to sleep.”
Abby led you to the bathroom with firmness, as if she were carrying something precious. You let her, silent, your eyes fixed on her the entire time. When she sat you on the cold sink and opened the drawer in search of makeup wipes, a shiver ran through you, not from the cold, but from the sight of her so close, so yours, occupying a space that until then had only belonged to you.
She came back to you, moving slowly, and her steady hand held your chin with a gentleness that almost unraveled you. The wipe slid across your skin, removing the layers of makeup, and you remained completely still, as if any movement might break that moment.
Every touch was soft, but in your mind you recorded everything as if it were vital: the way Abby furrowed her brow in concentration, the exact movement at the corner of her mouth when she bit her lip without realizing it, the warmth of her palm against your skin. You already knew you would keep all of it for later, for when she was no longer near, because every detail was yours, only yours.
She had no idea what she was doing to you.
You watched how her blond lashes shimmered under the faint light, how the blue in her eyes seemed even deeper at that distance. You wished that no one else would ever see her so close, that no one else would have that privilege.
On the outside, you stayed quiet, even serene, allowing Abby to believe you were simply too drunk to react. But inside, your heart was pounding, and a darker part of you wanted to laugh at the fact that she, so proper, so self-righteous, was touching you like that, without even realizing how much it meant.
Abby ran the wipe gently across the corner of your mouth, then blew softly, like she was drying off the last bit. You nearly shivered. The gesture was so careful, so tender, that for a moment you felt a strange flicker of guilt for having set it all up.
In the end, when she set the wipe aside and tossed it into the trash, you kept looking at her, silent, as if still under some spell. Abby gave a small, uncertain smile, as if trying to reassure you.
You only returned the look, hiding the real thought burning inside you: she didn’t know it yet, but she was already yours.
a/n: comment if you want to be on this story's taglist! 😸
Abby was nervous, scared, even. She'd checked herself in the mirror at least a hundred times, her familiar braid redone five times. Her body buzzed with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. A week ago, she’d met Dina at a bar and had been taken back when the woman had offered to buy her a drink. She was charming, confident, and everything Abby didn't think she could handle—yet here she was.
Abby brushed a stray hair off the collar of her shirt, which definitely wasn’t a size too small on purpose. The way it stretched just enough over her biceps was deliberate, quietly boosting her confidence.
One last look in the mirror, one deep breath. She grabbed her keys from the counter, typed Dina's address into maps, and headed out, rushing down the stairs.
The drive felt both too long and too short, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel as she navigated the city streets. When she finally pulled up in front of Dina's apartment, her breath caught. The woman was already outside, waiting on the curb, a relaxed confidence radiating from her.
"Hey," Abby managed, her voice a little lower than usual, fighting to keep her composure.
Abby's heart pounded in her chest, the rapid thump echoing in her ears, as Dina strolled over and leaned lightly into the open driver-side window. "Hey, Abby," she greeted, her voice a playful hum, a soft smile gracing her lips.
Dina effortlessly opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside her. Abby's gaze betrayed her, trailing over Dina's figure as she settled in, the soft fabric of the top accentuating her in all the right ways. She clears her throat, the sound breaking the tension, and with a twist of the key in the ignition, the engine purred to life, blending with the vibrant city lights as they merge into the stream of cars.
"You look good in blue," Abby mutters, struggling to focus on the road as her grip on the wheel tightens slightly.
"Thanks," Dina replies, her voice light, her eyes flickering over Abby’s shirt, eyes flickering to the shirt's tight sleeves. "So do you."
Abby couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a nervous laugh that seemed to break the tension in the car. She mostly kept her gaze on the road but occasionally stole glances at Dina, noticing the glint in her eye and the slight curve of her lips.
"So, how’s your hangover been?" Abby asked, her fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, her voice tinged with nervousness. Dina burst into a loud, melodic laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "It’s been, like, a week, Abby," she sputtered between giggles.
"I was just tipsy," Dina counters, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "And what can I say? I’m a great multitasker."
Abby chuckles, stealing a glance at her as she made a turn. "Yeah, yeah. I just can’t believe you were still able to flirt with me while you were completely piss drunk."
Abby laughs, disbelief evident as she shook her head. "Yeah, multitasking. Sure."
After a few minutes of driving, they finally arrive. Abby parks the car and unbuckles her seatbelt, gazing over at Dina, "You ready to try your hand at axe throwing?" Dina unbuckles her belt. "More excited to feel you pressed up against me," she says with a soft wink, exiting the car.
Dina stood by the entrance to the axe-throwing venue, a soft smile still lingering on her lips. Abby’s confidence wavered for a split second, but she forced herself to close the distance between them, her usual nervous energy buzzing just beneath the surface.
Abby froze, momentarily stunned by Dina’s boldness, her cheeks flushing a deep red. Dina’s wink was casual and playful, but it sent the blondes heart into overdrive.
Swallowing hard, she took a second to compose herself, inhaling a steadying breath before stepping out of the car.
"God, you don't beat around the bush, do you?" Abby quipped, grinning despite herself as she approached. Dina raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening.
"Why waste time?" Dina shot back, her tone dripping with playful ease, and Abby chuckled, her lips quirking in a small smile. She steps aside to open the door, gesturing for Dina to go first.
Inside, the venue buzzed with excitement and energy. The sounds of laughter and the satisfying thud of axes hitting their marks filled the air, creating an exhilarating atmosphere. The staff warmly welcomed them, explaining the rules and safety tips as Dina and Abby stood side by side.
Dina walked past Abby, close enough that Abby caught the faint scent of Dina's perfume—something light and floral. Abby hurriedly followed, reminding herself to breathe.
"So," Dina said, turning to Abby as the staff led them to their assigned lane, her eyes flickering to the axes resting neatly on the racks. "you any good at this?"
Abby shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, revealing her anticipation and confidence. "Yeah, kinda. I’ve been here a few times with friends. It’s fun once you get the hang of it." She glanced sideways at Dina. "What about you? Any hidden axe-throwing skills I should know about?"
She chuckles with a playful glint in her eyes before shaking her head. "Oh, absolutely not. Be prepared in case I maim someone," she jokes.
Abby laughs, feeling her nerves ease just a little. "Noted. Guess I’ll keep an eye out for rogue axes, then."
The other woman, grins grabbing an axe and testing its weight in her hand. "You’re brave for bringing me here; I’ll give you that. But hey, worst case, you’ll have a great story to tell."
Abby laughs, reaching out to grab the axe from Dina, her forearm muscles flexing ever so slightly. "Don't worry, I'll help correct your aim if it comes down to it," Dina chuckles, her eyes trailing over Abby's strong frame.
Stepping into the lane, Abby hefts the axe in her hand, its weight familiar and reassuring. She squares her stance, her focus sharpening as she lines up her throw. The noise of the venue faded away momentarily. All that remained was the steady rhythm of her breathing, the thump of anticipation in her chest, and the faint scent of wood in the venue.
With a smooth motion, Abby launches the axe forward. It flies through the air and hits the target dead center with a satisfying thud.
Dina lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Okay, show-off," she says, her grin widening. "No pressure, right?"
Abby steps back from the line, turning to Dina with one eyebrow raised and a playful smile tugging at her lips. "No pressure" she parrots, pickicking up an axe and holding it out to Dina.
Dina reaches for the handle, but instead of stepping back, she moves closer, sliding in front of Abby. Dina's body pressed close, her back lightly brushing against Abby's chest, Abby mentally groaned at the warmth enveloping her and the now distinguishable scent of petunias on Dina's skin.
"I'll need a little guidance," Dina murmurs, her voice teasing yet soft, her head tilting slightly as she glances back at Abby.
Abby swallowed hard, feeling her pulse race. The warmth of Dina’s presence against her chest made it nearly impossible to think straight, but she managed a nervous chuckle. "Guidance...alright."
She raised her hands, lightly resting them over Dina’s to help adjust her grip on the axe. "You want to keep your hands firm but relaxed," Abby explains in a hushed tone near Dina's ear. "Step forward with your dominant foot as you throw."
Dina hums, her gaze shifting from the target to Abby's face, close enough to catch the faint flush creeping up Abby's neck. "Like this?" Dina asks, her eyes searching Abby's for approval, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she adjusts her stance.
"Yeah," Abby managed, her voice tight, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded, the warmth of Dina's skin seeping through her own, testing her resolve. "Exactly like that," she forces out, her hand falling back to her sides reluctantly.
Dina turned her attention back to the target, pulling the axe back and throwing it forward. The axe landed at the bottom of the target with a solid thud, reverberating through the air. Abby grins, "Not bad for a first throw."
Dina laughs, leaning her head back on Abby's shoulder. "You're too sweet," she huffed, a playful glint in her eyes, "... That was horrible." Abby’s breath hitched as she felt the weight of Dina’s head resting on her shoulder, her eyes involuntarily tracing the delicate curve of Dina’s neck. Abby's hands instinctively found their way to Dina's hips, her fingers grazing the fabric of her jeans, a surge of warmth spreading through her at the contact.
Abby's hands lingered for a moment too long before she realized what she was doing. She quickly steps back, clearing her throat, face burning as she tries to focus on anything else.
"Well, uh," Abby began, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. "I think I need to work on my coaching skills if that’s where we’re at."
Dina turned towards Abby, a smirk playing on her lips, before gracefully stepping out of the lane. "Oh, don't sell yourself short. I just need more practice. Maybe... lots of it," she teased, her tone filled with playful banter.
Suddenly, a loud cheer from a neighboring lane shattered the moment, bringing their attention back to the bustling surroundings. Dina chuckles, breaking the tension with an easy grin. "I guess we're not in the running for any awards tonight, but hey, at least we're enjoying ourselves."
"Your skills will be promising by the end of this," Abby remarked playfully, a smile lingering on her face. "Promising, huh? I'll take it," Dina replied with a grin.
"Yeah," Abby hums softly, a gentle smile spreading across her face, as she reaches for another axe.
Dina stepped aside, leaning against the safety barrier with her arms crossed, her eyes twinkling as she watched Abby line up her next throw.
The memory of Dina pressed against her, the feel of her warmth, and the faint scent of her perfume still clung to Abby’s clothes and refused to fade. Abby's heart raced nervously as she drove, torn between focusing on the road ahead and the captivating presence of Dina beside her.
Dina, however, seemed entirely at ease. She was mid-story, her hands animated as she described a particularly ridiculous moment from her workday. Abby chuckled softly at all the right places, nodding along, but her attention wasn’t just on the story—it was on her. Her laughter filled the car, her eyes crinkling when she grinned, and her voice had a melodic tone.
"That’s when I realized," Dina said, gesturing emphatically, "that I’d been talking to the wrong person the entire time. And they didn’t even tell me!"
Abby let out a laugh, shaking her head in amusement. "No way. What did you do?"
Dina grinned, shrugging. "What could I do? I just played it off like it was all part of my master plan. Obviously."
"Obviously," Abby repeated her words with a smirk, briefly glancing at her before refocusing on the road ahead. "You’re good under pressure; I’ll give you that."
Dina tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. "Good under pressure, huh? Is that why you let me throw sharp objects tonight?"
Abby laughed again, feeling the last remnants of her nerves dissipate. "Something like that. Besides, I figured I could handle it if things went south."
"Bold of you," Dina teased, leaning back in her seat, her gaze lingering on Abby for a moment longer than necessary.
The easy flow of their conversation carried them through the drive, transforming the earlier tension into a comfortable warmth. Even as Abby pulled up to Dina's apartment, she found herself reluctant for the night to end.
"Thanks for the date," Abby stammers out, immediately regretting it, hands tapping the steering wheel. Dina smiles and chuckles softly. "No need to thank me; I had a good time with you." Her eyes linger over Abby's facial features, her hand resting on the door handle, eyes flicking between the door and Abby. "You want to come up with me?" She asked with a smile, a teasing glimmer in her eyes.
Abby's eyes widened, completely taken off guard by the question. She didn’t expect it in the slightest, and all words escaped her for a moment. She sat there silently for a few beats of her heart.
Abby finally whispered, her voice low and almost disbelieving, her brows furrowed in uncertainty, "Are you asking me to come inside?"
Abby's hands grips the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turn white, her thoughts running wild as Dina's question echoed in her head. The way she sat there, radiating confidence with a teasing glint in her eyes, made it even harder to think clearly.
"Yeah," Dina replied smoothly, a soft smile playing on her lips, her tone warm and inviting as she opened the car door with a graceful motion and stepped out. She moved around to Abby's side, pausing to glance back at her with that same playful smile. "If you want to."
Abby swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly that she was sure Dina could hear it. Her fingers fumbled as she nervously unbuckled her seatbelt, the metallic click echoing in the quiet of the night before she pushed the car door open and hurriedly climbed out. She shut the car door behind her and hastily locked it, shoving the keys into her pocket as she turned to face Dina.
Without thinking, one of Abby's hands found its way to Dina's waist, her grip firm yet hesitant. The warmth of Dina's body against her palm sent a jolt through her, and before she could second-guess herself, she pulls Dina closer.
Dina let out a soft laugh, her hands instinctively resting on Abby's shoulders as their bodies closed the distance. Her teasing confidence softens, gaze flicking between Abby's eyes and lips. "You don’t waste any time, do you?" she murmurs, her voice dropping just slightly.
Abby's breath caught, her fingers tightening around Dina’s waist for a moment as a whirlwind of emotions swept through her, before she let out a nervous chuckle, trying to mask her racing heart with a shaky exhale. "I—uh—I didn't want you to change your mind," she admitts, her words rushing out before she could stop them.
Dina’s smile grew, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Trust me," she said softly, her voice filled with quiet certainty. "I’m not changing my mind."
Dina's hands on Abby's shoulders push her gently against the car, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth radiating from Dina's touch. Abby's breath hitches, her heart pounding wildly as Dina's fingers trailed upward, playing with the hair at the nape of her neck. The subtle tilt of Abby's head brought them closer, and her lips parted slightly, her eyes flicking between Dina's gaze and her lips.
Dina’s touch was deliberate yet soft, her thumb brushing lazy circles against Abby's shoulder as though grounding her. Abby's own hands tightened their hold.
"Can I...?" Abby whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with nervous anticipation.
Dina nodded, her confidence unwavering but her eyes soft and inviting. That was all the encouragement Abby needed. She closed the distance between them, her lips brushing against Dina's in a tentative, soft kiss.
The world seemed to melt away in that moment—just the warmth of Dina's body pressed against hers and the way Dina's lips moved gently against her own. It was slow, tender, and entirely overwhelming. Abby's grip on Dina's hips tightened instinctively, as if afraid the moment might slip away.
Dina deepened the kiss slightly, her hand sliding from Abby's shoulder to rest gently against her jaw, guiding her as if she’d done this a thousand times before. When they finally broke apart, both of them were slightly breathless, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath in unison.
Dina stepped back just enough to take Abby’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Come on," she said, her voice teasing but warm. "Let’s see if you’re as bold upstairs as you are down here."
Abby blinked, her cheeks flushing bright red from the buzz of their kiss still lingering on her lips, and she let herself be led inside.
Ellie! who’s always subtly trying to pull you into her lap without actually asking, acting like it’s no big deal. But once you’re there, she’s all smug, holding you close and cracking a joke about how you’d be way more comfortable there than anywhere else.
Ellie! who thrifts funny t-shirts, and her favorite? is her “nobody knows I’m a lesbian” shirt. She wears it proudly, and you always laugh when you see her in it. Every. Time.
Ellie! who shows off smoke tricks she learned out of sheer boredom. Everything goes smoothly until she tries to show off a new trick, only to end up in a coughing fit. She dramatically has to redeem herself afterward, pulling you close for a victory kiss once she’s recovered. And pumped her fist to congratulate herself. Suchhh a dork.
Ellie! whose spam account username is ‘@/elliesaur,’ and her profile picture is of one of the cute little Dino figurines you gave her. She’s low-key obsessed with them.
Ellie! who During a makeout session, will suddenly pull away, and rushes to turn your plushies around, convinced they’ve been silently watching. It’s too much for them, apparently.
Ellie! who drags you along for her tattoo appointments. She squeezes your hand so tight during the session that your fingers go numb, but after, she’s all casual, saying she “totally handled it” like a champ while you know she was definitely whimpering into your shoulder.
Abby
Abby! who always tries to act tough, but when she’s with you, she lets her guard down, turning into this goofy, cuddly mess who insists on carrying you around “just because she can.”
Abby! who has a habit of secretly spoiling you, always sneaking in little surprises, like your favorite snacks or a small gift after a long day. It’s always a reminder that she’s thinking of you.
Abby! who is way too competitive but in a fun way. Whether it’s a video game, a race, or who can lift more weights, she makes it a mission to beat you, but there’s always a HUGE grin after she wins or loses.
Abby! who when she finally gets you to do a workout with her, tries her hardest not to laugh when you struggle to keep up. But the moment you give up, she’s the first to give you a pep talk.
Abby! was a bit inexperienced with women, and you had to fake an orgasm just once before dating because she hadn’t been with anyone else. Now, she’s learned the ropes and you never had to do it again. but it’s your secret, one that you’d never tell her.
Abby! who has an endless list of corny, sometimes embarrassing pet names for you.
Abby! who dropped you once when carrying you, and it’s still a running joke. No matter how much time passes, she’ll bring it up at the worst possible times. One night, when things started getting a bit too heated, she pulled away and asked if you were still mad about it…mind you, it was months ago.
Bonus: how they would react to a “I miss you” text with a little something extra!
Thinking about loser! Barista Abby! And the girl who works in the bookstore across the street…
[Contains]: cutesy headcannons!
Barista Abby! Who works Sunday to Wednesday, carefully balancing the rest of her week.
Sure, she gets hit on—at the gym, sometimes even at work. And while it’s flattering, she always turns them down. Why? Because lately, she’s found herself watching the clock, waiting for 10 a.m.
A different cozy outfit every time, a tote bag always slung over your shoulder, a pencil tucked behind your ear. Such a sweet sight. Yeah. She was a goner.
Barista Abby! Who told her coworker (and dearest friend) that she’d say something… eventually. But she never quite works up the nerve. She hates when it rains—raindrops littering the windows, ruining her perfect view of you across the street.
Barista Abby! Who wanted to duck behind the counter the first time you walked in. Crushes weren’t something she developed often, but you? The pretty girl balancing more books than you could carry, nudging the door open with your foot. The girl who always checked on the flowers outside the store, The girl who sat in her car for a few moments before heading home, deep in thought.
Barista Abby! Whose face burned when you made a flirty comment in passing, suddenly hyper-aware of herself in ways she never had been before.
“Are you on the menu?” You leaned in across the counter, eyes slowly scanning over her.
“Uh, no, but—but I could be? Like, theoretically?” she stammered.
Barista Abby! Who was a bookworm herself but couldn’t find the nerve to bring it up—until the day she saw you holding City of Thieves by David Benioff, a book she’d read a million times.
“Wait—you’re reading that? Like, actually reading it? Not just holding it for aesthetic purposes?” she blurted, pointing at the book tucked in the crook of your arm.
“You have to tell me what you think. Like, every thought. Immediately.”
And when you said you liked it? She practically beamed with excitement. “Okay, if you liked that one—please, please read The Nightingale and All the Light We Cannot See. Thank me later.”
Barista Abby! Who, over time, grew more comfortable flirting back. Who lived for the giggles she earned, for the way your smile lingered all the way until the red neon CLOSED sign flickered on.
Who perfected her coffee art—so of course, she started drawing tiny hearts and silly faces in your drinks. Who started leaving little notes on your cups. Sometimes a simple have a good day, sometimes a quick sketch of the way your hair looked that morning. Who gushed to her coworker about the spark she swore she felt when your fingers brushed against hers that morning. Who spent the whole day thinking about it—until she finally worked up the nerve to ask you out.
The sun was out, she was off for the rest of the week, and she knew you were too. So she said it. Do you want to go out with me? And when you didn’t even hesitate before saying yes? She let out a tiny scream of excitement in her car—only to immediately stop, remembering her windows weren’t that tinted.
Barista Abby! Who melted the first time you kissed her cheek after your second date.
Who finally stepped foot into the bookstore where you worked, taking in the scent of paper and vanilla—the same scent that always lingered on your clothes. And as she watched you move between the shelves, smiling at customers, in your element, she thought—
