#Melissa schemmenti x ofc

[ivebeenherebefore25]

What Is Love Worth? 1/?

"Melissa and I have been together for a few months, now. Well, not together together, but she spends quite a bit of time in my bed, though. The problem is this: she's seeing someone. A man. A firefighter. She a came into the teachers lounge a couple days ago and announced that she wants to 'go steady' with him. With actual tears in her eyes. But she came to me, that same night." I say with an exasperated expression etched onto my face. "I mean, sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy here with her, like, she says she wants me, but she shows me she wants him," My voice cracks as tears form in my eyes. "And I know I get too attached, too quickly, and I fall hard, but maybe it isn't just me this time. I don't know. What do I do?"

There is a slight pause on the other end of the phone before a response is granted. "Lottie, relationships are complicated, and nothing will change that, but when it comes to situations like this, especially for someone with your type of personality disorder, the effects can be extremely damaging. It can amplify what is already present, while simultaneously creating new things in your subconscious that will manifest eventually, if they haven't already." I take my bottom lip between my teeth and sink my teeth hard as I take in the words of my newest therapist. "I can't tell you what to do, but my question for you is: Why do you continue to allow her back? What makes you feel the need to do that, even though it always makes you feel bad afterward?" 

The question swirls in my brain for longer than I'm comfortable with before I realize I'm unable to give an answer. To my therapist, or myself. "I- I don't know," A breathe catches in my throat as I glance around my living room. "I need to go. Thank you, Doctor."

What makes me do this, even though I always feel bad after? 

I don't know. 

I do know the softness of her skin. I know the scent of her rosemary and peach shampoo; and it smells delicious by the way. I know the way her voice rises and falls in the midst of pleasure. I know the way she loves her students, and the impact she has on them. I know the way her marriage traumatized her in the name of love. I know the ways she enjoys. Melissa is so full of light, I can't not be drawn to her like a moth to a flame. The darkness in me settles for the few short hours she is here. With me. The tears begin to form again, and that will lead to nowhere good, so I make my way to bedroom to gather my things for a bath. 

_

The bathroom is thick with the scent of bath oil and candles. I turn the hot water on and let it fill the tub, water diluting the oil, and I run to my kitchen to grab my pink whitney and my blunt. I return to the bathroom and the tub is full, so I shut it off and shed my oversized sweater from my small frame. Jumping into the shower beside the bathtub I wash my hair first, before making my way up, down, across, and between my body with soap. Another soap for my sensitive bits, face wash, body wash, and finally: moisturizer bar! Now, time to relax. I hope into the bathtub quickly, and the now warm water encombasses my body. I grab my blunt and spark it with an excited smile. I fucking love weed. I chase my first few hits with a couple of shots, as tomorrow is saturday, and I desperatly need to pretend I'm someone else right now. Only, I just realized I forgot to eat....and the alcohol wastes no time getting the job done. I shrug it off and enjoy my blunt, throwing my head back and letting the aroma of the oils take me away. Peach and rosemary. Who knew it could be so intoxicating? The smoke swirls as I trail my free hand down my chest to my breast. I imagine it's her as I tail my fingertip around my nipple. An idea pops into my head then. A bad idea, but an idea nonetheless. And, also, how can it be bad when it just feels so good? 

Existing the bathtub, I grab my light blue, silk robe from the hook on the door and head to my bed to retrieve my phone. I bite my lip as I open my camera and turn to my full lenght mirror in the corner of my room. I press record as I sink to my knees slowly, catching my relfection at a godly angle, as I slowly pull the robe to the side, exposing my small tits. My stomach twists and turns as I rewatch the video before sending it to my favorite redhead, and turning back to my mirror to quickly snap a few more slutty picture for her viewing pleasure. When I've finished I pace my room for a second before heading over to my vanity and applying my lotions, creams, and deodorant. I mix a few of my favorite perfumes to achieve my desired scent before tossing myself onto my bed and checking my phone.  

2 missed calls from Mel Mel <3 

My heart races and a smile spreads across my as I read the notifications.My thumb hovers over the facetime button before I finally press it. The phone rings for a split second beforeshe picks up. My breath hitches as I take her in, she is so beautiful. "Mel," I say, my voice somewhere between moan and a breathe. "Come." "I will. Right now." Her voice is hushed in her reply, and she hangs up as quickly as she answered. 

I roll around in my bed kicking my feet as I imagine what's to come. Twenty minutes later and I'm taking more shots while I'm lounging on my couch waiting for my itialian beauty, and it isn't much longer before there is a frantic knock on my door. I jump from my seat and run to let her in. As soon as the door is cracked she's pushing her way inside and shoving me back up against it, hands groping and squeezing as her mouth crashes against mine. Our kiss is wet and sloppy as she fights me for the dominance we both know she'll never win. Melissa pushes her body flush against mine as I circle my arms around her waist, my hands trailing lower to the palm at her gorgeous ass through her thin black leggings, as she moans into my mouth. "I've missed you, Amante." Her words light a fire in the pit of my stomach, and I feel my eyes darken as I make a 'tsk' sound. I plant a soft kiss on her lips as I trail my hand up her chest, around her throat, and to the back of her head. "Have you now? I was under the impression you've been quite distracted," She looks at me with a sheepish expression as I grab a fistful of her hair and guide her to her knees. "To the couch. Go." I hear Melissa's breath hitch as she crawls over to the couch, propping back on her legs when she makes it. She looks as me with a parted mouth and I can't help but think of all the pretty sounds she's about to be making. All for me. I hold her stare as I make my way to her slowly, caressing the side of her jaw, slighly, as I take my seat in front of her leaning forward to sjisper against her lips. "Stand up and strip for me, hm? Show me what a good whore you can be." Melissa strips slowly, teasingly, exposing mere inches of her soft flesh at a time. Her leggings are the first to go, offering me a perfect view of her ass when she turns and bends to remove them. "No panties?" I ask, amusement coating my voice. "What for?" Melissa replies as she drags her shirt over her head. She cups her breasts and squeezes as I stare up at her, my mouth watering heavily. "Good girl. You're learning."

[schemmentigfs]

Hello! can we get a mel x reader fic where the reader makes mel jealous but instead of getting the reaction she wants (extremely hot sex) she actually makes melissa cry (and then soft smut at the end 😔) mel receiving ofc 🧎🏽‍♀️

Breaking Point.

Summary: One trivia night at Ruby’s with the gang sets the stage for your plan to stir Melissa Schemmenti’s jealousy. However, instead of the anticipated reaction, her insecurities surface. Feeling humiliated, she breaks down in tears and you realize that you fucked up.

WC: 5k.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @kukikatt @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr (@writerspirit) thanks for helping me out with this one. 💛

Warnings: Jealousy, Violence, Apologize Sex, a small reference to Mommy Kink, and a single slap.

Melissa Ann Catarina Schemmenti had always been a woman of fierce temperament, her spirit sharp as the cut of her heels against South Philly pavement, her loyalty as unwavering as the stoop she was raised on. Passion ran through her like good espresso: dark, strong, impossible to ignore. And her jealousy, her jealousy was no quiet, passing shadow.

It’s a know fact that jealousy could manifest in completely different ways in other people, depending on their personality, their history, and even how they handle their emotions. While in her, jealousy was like a sharp blade, discreet and dangerous, in others it could reveal itself in very distinct forms: Some people dealt with it in a more explosive way. The type of jealousy that came loaded with sharp words, said in the heat of the moment, often followed by regretful apologies once the dust settled. It was the jealousy of those who couldn’t contain the storm inside of them, who let it spill over in public arguments, bursts of possessiveness, and thoughtless accusations.

Others, however, were masters in the art of silence. This type of jealousy manifested itself in looks full of resentment, in short and cold responses, in a sudden absence that punished without the need for words. It was a jealousy that wove itself into the routine, creating an almost imperceptible but suffocating distance, leaving the other person wondering where exactly they had gone wrong.

There were also those who turned jealousy into self-punishment. Instead of confronting, they turned inward, questioning their own worth, diminishing themselves in comparison to others. This type of jealousy didn’t translate into anger but into insecurity, into silent doubts, into looks that were diverted and smiles that wilted when noticing their loved one’s attention turned elsewhere.

And, of course, there were those who, even feeling jealous, wore it like a mask of indifference. They smiled, made jokes, pretended not to care – but their eyes said otherwise. A slight tremor at the corner of the mouth, a somewhat forced laugh, a quick subject change to hide the flicker of discomfort.

But when it came to the mean redhead with a bangin’ body, it was different. Her jealousy didn’t explode nor hide. It existed in every detail, subtle and precise, a constant reminder that, in her world, you were something precious. Something worth protecting. Something that, if anyone dared to touch, would find, even unknowingly, the silent beast behind the smile.

You realized this early on in your relationship, now eight years strong, and if you were truly honest with yourself, you’d have to admit: you loved her anyway. It wasn’t childish jealousy, the kind that overflows with insecurity or neediness. No. Hers was something more refined, sharp like the edge of a razor blade, burning beneath the surface like a lit cigarette in the fingers of someone who had tried to quit the habit but still relished the scent of the smoke. It was a fire that sparked in the most mundane moments – a dense shadow in her green eyes when a stranger leaned in too close to talk to you at the bar, an almost imperceptible tightening of muscles when the supermarket cashier called you “sweetie” with a smile that lingered a second too long, a dangerous stillness when Ava Coleman blinked exaggeratedly at you in the Abbott Elementary hallways, calling you “boo” just to watch your girlfriend boil over.

And you remembered that day perfectly.

Monday mornings were already hellish enough. The fluorescent lights in the hallways buzzed faintly overhead, blending with the usual start of the week chaos—teachers swapping exhausted stories about their weekends, students shouting and running like they had never learned what walking was, lockers slamming shut with enough force to shake the walls. You were still nursing your rapidly cooling coffee, trying to shake off the sluggishness of the morning, when it happened.

So fast, your brain lagged behind, struggling to process.

One moment, Ms. Schemmenti was standing next to you, her usual morning scowl in place, one hand lazily wrapped around her untouched coffee. Ava was in front of you, chatting—no, flirting—because that was just the irresponsible principal’s favorite way to start the week.

“You’re looking particularly fine today,” she had mused, dragging out the words like she was testing them. Then, glancing at your girlfriend with a devilish smirk, she added. “If you ever need a break from Vito Corleone over here, you know where to find me, babyboo.”

Big mistake.

The second grade teacher’s coffee hit the floor with a wet splat. And then, before anyone could react, she lunged. Like, fully launched herself at her own boss. It was almost cartoonish how fast it happened. One second, Melissa was beside you. The next, she had both arms locked around Ava’s neck, her entire body weight slamming into the taller woman like some kind of feral redheaded linebacker.

The sassy principal screamed. “Hell no! Schemmenti, what the heck?!”

“Say it. Say it again if you want me to break your neck!”

The entire crew froze almost immediately. Janine let out a horrified gasp. Gregory’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. Jacob turned a shade of white you weren’t sure was healthy. Mr. Johnson, completely unbothered, took a slow sip of his coffee. Barb, standing just a few feet away, had barely turned the corner when her hand flew to her chest. “Sweet Baby Jesus and the grown-up too!”

Meanwhile, Ava flailed like a cartoon character, grabbing desperately at Melissa’s firm wrists. “ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO STRANGLE ME?” she screeched.

The redheaded woman’s face was flushed with rage, her green eyes dark with murderous intent. She tightened her grip slightly, voice coming out low and deadly. “Call her ‘boo’ again, Coleman. I dare you.”

You should step in. You should do something. But for a solid five seconds, all you could do was stare feeling a mix of shock, panic, and, God help you, just a tiny bit of admiration.

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEBODY GET THIS DEMON OFF ME!” Ava howled, kicking her tall legs in a completely ineffective attempt to break free.

Jacob finally snapped out of his horror-stricken daze, stumbling forward and grabbing his mother figure around the waist. “You can’t just STRANGLE the principal of the school! She’s our boss!” he wheezed, struggling to pull her back.

Melissa resisted for a moment, like she was genuinely considering finishing the job. But then, with a deep exhale, she let go. Ava stumbled backward, coughing violently, hands flying to her throat as she stared at her coworker like she had just been attacked by a rabid raccoon.

“You need THERAPY, bitch!” the tall woman gasped.

Your girlfriend rolled her shoulders back, straightening her jacket as she took a slow, steady breath. Then, in a voice dangerously calm, she tilted her head and said:

“No. But you will if you keep looking at my girl like that.”

Silence.

The only sound was the distant buzzing of the lights and the faint creak of a classroom door opening somewhere down the hall.

Barbara, still clutching her chest, exhaled heavily. “Lord…”

You, finally remembering how to breathe, swallowed hard and glanced at Jacob, who looked seconds away from a full-body shutdown.

“Oh my God…” you muttered, still half-convinced you had hallucinated the whole thing.

Ava held up her hands in surrender. “I will NEVER call her ‘boo’ again. I swear.”

Melissa, now composed, smirked. “Good.” With that, she grabbed your hand and walked off like absolutely nothing had happened.

And you? You savored every moment. It was a silent game between the two of you, a dance choreographed by the veiled possessiveness that the green-eyed woman refused to verbalize, but that burned in the way her fingers marked your hip, in the way her Philadelphian accent grew rougher when someone got too close.

She would never admit it, never. After all, Melissa Schemmenti was a woman made of steel and concrete, forged in a traditional Catholic Italian family where weakness wasn’t allowed. But you knew that when it came to you, that steel would burn. It would turn into something fierce, something wild. It was a beast protecting its territory from a predator, growling softly, ready for a fight.

It was visible in the stiffening of her shoulders, in the way her pupils dilated, in the way her fingers wrapped around your waist with a possessive strength, pulling you close, as if saying without words: my woman. And when her full lips brushed your ear, her voice low and warm like aged whiskey, she murmured, loaded with a delicious threat.

“You’re trying to make me lose my mind, babydoll? You know what happens when you disrespect Mommy.”

And later, that same night, your girlfriend would kiss you with an uncontrollable hunger, her hands holding your face, her body pressed against yours until there was no space left between you except for your labored breaths and the muffled sound of your sighs and moans. Until your legs gave out. Until you begged for mercy.

So when the karaoke night along with the Q&A arrived at Ruby’s and the group was already drunk enough to dance without caring about the rhythm, you decided to have a little fun.

It wasn’t like Melissa wasn’t already completely focused on you. She always was. Even there, in the bar immersed in amber lights, saturated with the smell of alcohol and grease, she stayed glued to you— her arm resting lazily on your back, her fingers tracing slow, hypnotic circles on your shoulder. But you wanted more. Something hotter. Something rougher.

So, you leaned in, your lips brushing the soft skin of her earlobe. “You better not let us lose, Schemmenti. I want to go home with a winner.”

Your girlfriend smiled, that confident smile that always made your stomach flip.

“Oh, please, babe. I have a lifetime of useless facts up here,” she tapped her temple and winked at you. “We’re going to win.”

The night went on with jokes, teases, and generous sips of drinks. The questions ranged from absurdly difficult topics to answers so easy that Jacob nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to explain how people got them wrong. Ava, surprisingly, was excellent at the game and carried the team round after round, delivering insults with the precision of a surgeon. O’shon was impressed by his girlfriend’s performance but kept shy. Sea Barbara was having the time of her life while Janine and Gregory desperately chased her though the whole bar.

In the third round, Melissa was at the bar with Jacob, both engaged in a heated discussion about Roman emperors. Her former roommate insisted that Nero was the worst, but the second-grade teacher, with her passionate tone and expressive hands, delivered a fiery monologue about how Caligula was, without a doubt, the worst creature to ever walk the Earth.

“Nero was the worst, hands down,” the social studies teacher argued, his hands flailing for emphasis. “He burned down Rome, Mel! He literally played the lyre while watching the city go up in flames.”

Your girlfriend scoffed, leaning forward, her eyes ablaze with passion. “Oh, come on, dude! Nero was bad, but Caligula? That man was an unhinged lunatic. He made his horse a senator.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but—”

“Don’t interrupt me! I’m just getting started,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “This man executed people on a whim. Held orgies so disturbing that even the Romans thought it was too much. And let’s not forget the time he declared war on the damn ocean.”

Her work son blinked. “War on the ocean?”

“Yes! The man ordered his soldiers to attack the sea and then collect seashells as spoils of war!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “What kind of lunatic does that?”

Jacob snorted, shaking his head. “I still think Nero was worse.”

Melissa huffed, grabbed a peanut from the bowl on the table, and chucked it at him. “You’re an idiot, Hill.”

“You’re just stubborn.”

Narrowing her olive eyes, the redhead lifted her hand and flipped him off. “Fuck you.”

He gasped in mock offense before bursting into laughter. Without warning, the older woman grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight, crushing hug.

“Love you, even though you are a fuckin’ dumbass,” she muttered against his shoulder.

Jacob chuckled, hugging her back. “Love you too, ‘Elissa. But Nero was still worse.”

Melissa pulled back just enough to glare at him before smacking the back of his head after hearing the nickname.

“OUCH! What was that for? I feel like a teenager who was grounded by his mother.”

“You’re lucky I’m drunk, or this argument would last until tomorrow.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Mr. Johnson, with his relaxed posture and sly smile, was trying to bribe the host.

“Listen here, kid. If I give you twenty, do you think you can bump up our score?” he gestured to his team.

The poor college student, clearly tired of the night, rolled his eyes. “Sir, this is trivia, not blackjack. Please respect the rules.”

After the final trivia question, Jacob was practically glowing, his enthusiasm spilling over like a tipped glass, nearly knocking over his drink every time he got an answer right. Beside him, Gregory and Janine were lost in their usual slow-burn headass dynamic, whispering heatedly, orbiting each other like stars destined to collide.

The last round ended, and music poured through the speakers—loud, rhythmic, impossible to ignore. Ava clapped her hands with a flourish, tugging her smiling boyfriend by the jacket. “Alright, losers, time to shake ass.”

Your girlfriend let out a snort full of irony. “Oh, no. Not happening. I won’t dance tonight, A.”

Barbara raised an amused brow, her smile full of quiet mischief. She wasn’t surprised with her best friend’s familiar stubbornness. “Come on, girlfriend, don’t be a party popper. Even Gregory's going.”

The first grade teacher, already halfway to the dance floor thanks to Janine’s persistent tugging, spun around like a man trying to escape fate. “I never said I was going.” But his girlfriend pulled him in anyway, laughing as he stumbled after her.

Jacob squealed with glee, singing out loud.“You say you wanna win it. I wanna see you sweat, put your whole kitty in it.”

And suddenly, the table was empty. Just you and Melissa remained, you turned to her, lips pouted in exaggerated pleading.“C’mon, baby. Dance with me.”

She shook her head slowly, firmly. “You know I don’t do that.”

“Fine,” you sighed. Then, with a sly smile curling at the corners of your mouth. “I’ll just find someone else to dance with.”

Her redbrow lifted, sharp as a challenge. “Yeah?”

That’s how you ended up leaning on the bar, body tilted with practiced ease, casting flirtatious glances at the very attractive bartender. She looked about your age, maybe younger. Short hair, styled with flair, and one arm inked from shoulder to wrist in a tapestry of tattoos.

You twirled a strand of hair around your finger and gave her a knowing smile.

“So, what’s your best drink?”

The bartender smiled back, slowly looking you up and down. “For you? Something really sweet, I think.”

You laughed—really laughed—and rested your hand on the bar, giving her a wink.

But something changed. The air thickened, charged with tension. You felt her before you saw her. That presence. Familiar. Possessive. Magnetic.

Melissa Schemmenti’s hand landed on your hip, firm, warm, grounding.

“We’re leaving,” her tone was low, a growl made of gravel and storm. “Screw this stupid night.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation. Yes. That was the reaction you’d wanted. She would get pissed off and fuck you later. You turned, fully expecting the heat in her green eyes—the fire that told you you’d pay for this later.

But what you saw wasn’t fire. It was ruin.

Melissa looked shattered. You didn’t get the words out. She yanked you away from the bar, out into the night, where cold air bit at your skin.

And then, she erupted.

“What the fuck was that?!” your girlfriend shouted under the weight of emotion. Her face flushed, streaked with silent tears.

“Baby, I just...”

Smack. The slap was light. Reflexive. Born of frustration more than anger. But your eyes widened anyway.

Melissa never hit you. Not even during sex.

She recoiled immediately, hand flying to her mouth, as if to muffle the sound that still echoed between you. “I’m not some fuckin’ animal for you to play with.”

“Lis?”

She looked away, trembling.

“You don’t want me anymore, do you?"

And then you understood. She wasn’t angry. She was scared. You reached for the older woman, but she pulled back like your touch would shatter her.

“Jesus… I’m fifty. What am I even doing with you? I should’ve known… I should’ve known.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Mel, what are you talking about?”

She swallowed hard, a sob catching in her throat.“Joe used to do that to me, you know?”

You gulped.

Melissa never talked about her ex-husband.

“He’d flirt with other women right in front of me. Just to remind me he could. And when I got upset, he’d make me feel crazy. Like I was pathetic for thinking I could ever keep him.”

Nausea rose in your throat, bitter and sharp.

Her lips trembled with memories too heavy to hold. “I thought you loved me.”

Those words broke you. “I do. I love you so much.”

She didn’t answer back, instead she closed her eyes and asked. “Can we just go home?”

The ride home was silent. Melissa sat curled against the door, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring out the window like she wanted to be anywhere but here. By the time you pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, she was already out of the car, heading straight inside without a word.

You followed, feeling your stomach twist as you stepped into the house.

She was in the kitchen, standing by the counter, her back to you. Her arms were still wrapped around herself, fingers gripping at her sleeves, like she was trying to hold herself together.

You took a slow, cautious step forward and sighed heavily. “Honey.”

Your girlfriend didn’t look at you. Just let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

Finally, she turned, and the look on her face shattered you. “This. Us.”

A sharp, horrible fear lodged in your throat.

“Lissa, please.”

“I love you.” The words were rushed, raw. “I love you so much it scares the shit outta me. And I—” She swallowed hard. “I can’t go through that bullshit again. I won’t.”

The second grade teacher was trembling now, holding herself so tightly it looked like she might break apart.

And you couldn’t let her think like this—not for another second.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around her, pressing her tight against your chest. She resisted for half a second before melting into you, her whole body sagging.

“You won’t,” you whispered into her hair. “I swear to god, you won’t.”

Melissa let out a ragged breath, her arms still locked around herself even as she pressed her face against your shoulder.

“I was stupid,” you murmured, stroking her back, voice thick with guilt. “I thought I was just messing around, but I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.” You cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re my everything, Mel. No one else. Just you.”

Her plump lips trembled.

“I love you,” you sobbed. “I love you so much.”

Something in her cracked then, her breath shuddering as she let go of herself and finally grabbed onto you.

And then she was kissing you.

Desperate, messy, all shaky hands and tear-stained cheeks. She kissed you like she needed proof that you were still here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You kissed her back just as fiercely, one hand on her cheek, the other gripping her waist, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world—because Melissa Schemmenti was.

The redhead let out a shaky tiny noise against your lips, and you pulled back just enough to whisper, “Let me make it up to you.”

She swallowed, her forehead resting against yours, her breath still uneven. “H-How?”

You ran your hands slowly down her sides, soft and reverent, looking her straight in the eyes. “By showing you exactly how much I want you.”

A flicker of something passed through her eyes—uncertainty, vulnerability—but then her grip on your shirt tightened, and she nodded.

“Okay.”

And you kissed her again, slow and deep, determined to make her feel everything she had doubted tonight.

After a few more promises and kisses, Melissa led you upstairs, her grip on your hand tight, like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

As you guided her toward your shared bedroom, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on her milky skin. Every step she took was hesitant, but you could see the hunger and need flickering behind her green eyes, along with the insecurity she’d shown you earlier.

When you reached the bed, your girlfriend hesitated, her fingers twitching at the hem of her shirt. Her cheeks were already flushed, a obvious combination of arousal and nervousness. You knew this side of her. The part that fought against vulnerability, the part that still struggled to believe she could be adored so thoroughly after decades of being humiliated by her ex-husband.

“C’mere,” you coaxed.

She breathed through her nose, then finally pulled the fabric over her head, dropping it to the floor as she laid down on the bed. Your breath caught as you took her in—her full, round breasts rising and falling with every uneven breath, her pink nipples already hardened in anticipation. She was beautiful. She was yours

But as soon as the cool air hit her hourglass figure, her arms reflexively crossed over her chest, shielding herself. “Y-you don’t have to do this,” she stuttered.

You stepped closer, gently brushing her arms aside. “None of that. Let me love you,” you reply, meeting her eyes, making sure she saw nothing but adoration in your gaze. You started slow, pressing kisses to her shoulders, trailing down the slope of her collarbone. The tension in her muscles eased little by little as you continued, your lips moving lower until they reached the soft swell of her breast.

Melissa let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the white sheets behind her.

The moment your mouth closed around one of her sensitive nipples, she gasped, her back arching instinctively. You sucked lightly at first, teasing, circling your tongue around the stiff peak. The way her breath hitched sent a rush of heat through you, and you did it again, this time flicking your tongue against the sensitive bud before wrapping your lips around it completely.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she groaned. Her fingers found their way into your hair, tangling there as if grounding herself.

You hummed against her skin, feeling the way she shivered in response. Your other hand moved to her neglected breast, cupping its warmth, your thumb brushing over her nipple in slow, deliberate strokes. Melissa’s hips shifted restlessly, and you could feel the heat radiating from her, the growing need that she was barely keeping at bay.

Her swollen lip was caught between her teeth as she tried to suppress the noises spilling from her throat, but it was useless. When you sucked harder, she let out a choked moan, her grip on you tightening.

“Fuck,” the older woman whispered, the curse slipping from her lips like a prayer. “Just like that…”

“Yeah? Does my pretty girl like this?” you asked before switching to her other breast, making sure to give it the same attention, sucking and licking until your girlfriend was writhing beneath you. She cursed again, raspier now, more desperate.

“God, honey,” Melissa groaned, her green eyes fluttering open just enough to look at you. The sight of you—your mouth on her, your hands worshiping every inch of her—made her chest rise and fall even quicker. “You are so good.”

She placed her hand over yours where it cupped her breast, silently urging you to squeeze harder, to give her more. You obeyed, kneading the soft flesh in your palm, rolling her nipple between your fingers while your tongue worked the other. Melissa threw her head back, her breath catching in her throat as pleasure coursed through her.

“Shit,” she panted, her thighs clenching together. “You’re gonna—” her words broke off into another moan as you sucked particularly hard.

You could feel her body trembling, could hear the way her voice wavered between curses and needy gasps. She was unraveling under you, and you weren’t about to stop now.

As you continued, your free hand trailed down her stomach, inching closer to where you knew she needed you most. Melissa’s breath hitched again, her entire body tensing in anticipation. She was already wet—you could tell just by the way she squirmed, by the way her hips kept shifting toward you.

You released her nipple with a soft, teasing kiss, then glanced up at her, meeting her darkened gaze. Her lips were swollen from how hard she’d been biting them, her pupils blown wide with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your fingers slipping lower.

The green eyed woman shuddered at your words, her hands gripping your shoulders now. “You’re fuckin’ unreal,” she breathed, as your mouth traveled lower, brushing over her soft belly. “I need you.”

You didn’t make her wait.

Melissa reclines further on a now rumpled white duvet, her skin aglow under the gentle caress of a bedside lamp. Her gaze meet yours as if silently inviting you to explore every inch of her. Though her sultry allure is undeniable, there’s an obvious shyness in the way she quivers, a subtle reminder that beneath the polished exterior, she is as human and tender as anyone could be.

You step forward, drawn inexorably to her magnetic presence. As you kneel between her spread legs, you become acutely aware of every detail—the way her heart flutters in the quiet moments before passion takes over, the delicate rise and fall of her chest, the soft hum of her breath that mingles with the ambient sound of a distant rain. It is in this space, at the precipice between fantasy and reality, that you begin to trace your own exploration of her body.

Your eyes travel slowly over her form, and you can’t help but admire the intricate interplay of contrasts. Her red pubic hair, neatly trimmed and soft to the touch, frames her most intimate parts with an unexpected elegance. With a sense of reverence and delight, you gently guide your nose along the tender patch, inhaling the uniquely intoxicating scent of her skin mixed with the subtle hints of shampoo and the lingering aroma of passion. The sensation is both curious and deeply erotic, a melding of senses that intensifies your connection.

Melissa moans, a tentative sound that gradually builds into a crescendo of pleasure. Though her voice trembles with shyness, every note carries a resonance of desire, hinting at an inner fire that is waiting to be fully ignited. Encouraged by her reaction, you lean in further, your warm breath mingling with her soft, arched exhale. Your hand caresses her thigh, slowly working its way upward, tracing patterns along her smooth meat flesh as if mapping out a treasure. The contact sends ripples of delight through her.

“That’s it, baby,” she pants. “Give it to me. Just fucking eat me out.”

Obeying, you lower your head, your tongue seeking out the very heart of her pussy. The moment your tongue makes contact, the bedroom seems to fill with the heady scent of her arousal. You begin with gentle flicks, tasting her essence, savoring the salt and the sweet tang that is uniquely hers.

Melissa parts her lips. “Yes… yes, please.”

As you work, your nose remains in contact with that enticing patch of trimmed red hair—a tactile reminder of the natural beauty that frames her most intimate self. The juxtaposition of the soft fuzz against your skin, the lingering warmth of your breath on her flesh, creates a symphony of sensations that both of you share. Her hands grip the sheets in silent encouragement, her body arching ever so slightly as if to offer you more, to signal that she is ready to surrender to this shared passion.

Your girlfriend’s whimpering grows louder, a combination of pleasure and the bittersweet vulnerability of someone who has long guarded her deepest desires. In the gentle rhythm of your attentions, you hear the subtle cadence of her voice, a melody that rises and falls with every wave of sensation. Even in her shyness, there is an undeniable strength; every gasp and every sigh is a testament to the courage it takes to expose oneself so completely.

You notice how her eyes close tighter, her lashes brushing her flushed cheeks as if trying to capture every sensation. The contrast between her shyness and the bold passion of her moans creates an alluring paradox, one that only deepens your resolve to explore every hidden corner of her.

The warmth of your body pressed against hers, the intertwining of your breaths, all contribute to a growing intimacy that transcends the physical act. It’s as if every touch, every caress, is a silent conversation—a dialogue that speaks of trust, longing, and the exquisite pleasure of being seen and understood in your most vulnerable state. And in that quiet exchange, you find a beauty that is both raw and transformative.

Your flat tongue dances along her contours, tight walls, varying its pace and pressure in an attempt to coax every moan and every shudder from her. The taste of her juice is intoxicating—a heady blend that speaks of secrets, dreams, and the deeply personal nature of desire. Every now and then, you pause, allowing the anticipation to build, savoring the silence that hangs heavy with unspoken apologies. In those pauses, you can almost hear the language of her hourglass shape, the subtle signals that tell you exactly how far to push, where to slow down, and when to simply be.

Her moans soon evolve into words, breathless confessions of pleasure that escape her mouth between shudders.

“Oh…” she gasps, a single syllable laden with meaning, a delicate sound that sends fresh waves of warmth surging through you. It is in these moment that you realize the power of your actions—not just in the physical pleasure you are bestowing, but in the way you are helping her to embrace every facet of her own self.

As the older woman gets closer and closer, you become increasingly attuned to the subtle shifts in her rhythm. Her breathing deepens, her body trembles with each passing second, and you know that the boundary between anticipation and fulfillment is drawing ever closer.

“Mmm,” you groan. “My good girl tastes so sweet.”

Her breath stutters, heat blooming low in her stomach all over again.

The feeling is that you are both artists and muses, engaged in a performance that is as much about emotion as it is about physical sensation. The interplay of your hands, your tongues, and your hearts creates a tableau of raw, unfiltered desire—one that is both fleeting and timeless.

Minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity of ecstasy. Melissa’s whines become a constant, a beautiful chorus that underscores the symphony unfolding between you. The sound of her raspy breathing, sometimes tentative, sometimes urgent, is a living reminder of the beauty found in vulnerability—a vulnerability that, in this sacred space, has been met with nothing but tenderness and reverence.

Your own senses are alight with the acting of giving, each detail etched into your memory. The texture of her beneath you, the taste of her mingling with the aroma of her natural essence, and the sound of her enjoying everything form a tapestry of sensations that you will carry with you long after the night has ended.

She cums with a final, shuddering gasp, a sweet symphony of release that echoes softly through the neighborhood. In that exquisite instant, the tension that had been building for so long gives way to a profound sense of relief and connection. It is as if every whispered sigh and every gentle moan had been leading to this singular, transcendent moment.

Her fingers, still trembling from the aftershocks, reach for you with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The redheaded pulls you up gently, guiding you until you’re resting against her, your bare and clothed chests warm beneath the quiet hush of the bedroom. Her orbs meet yours—stormy green softened with something that looks like awe, or maybe love—and then her lips are on yours.

It isn’t hurried. It isn’t wild. It’s a kiss full of gratitude, affection, apology. Her thumb brushes your cheek as she pulls back just enough to whisper. “I’m sorry, baby. For reacting like that.”

You can only nod, your heart too full for words. Whatever had weighed on you both before this—whatever doubts or distance—feels far away now, melted in the heat of her touch and the certainty in her voice.

She smiles then, that rare, open smile that makes her look years younger, freer. And before you can even respond, her arms wrap around you, pulling you close until you're buried in her embrace, safe and steady. The kind of hug that says home.

[springwitch8]

Hey you're writing is so beautiful and *cough cough* incredibly hot, would you be down to write a Melissa brat tamer oneshot 😅

No pressure ofc!

-anon

tear you apart (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: you're feeling bratty and melissa is all too happy to punish you.

warnings: smut (18+), brat taming, punishment, degradation, spanking, humiliation, overstim, voyeurism? basically unhinged content + agatha harkness obsession disease 💜

notes: thank you anon for your kind words and this request! hope this is worth the wait. melissa is such a brat tamer and i'm reminded of that every time she makes a biting comment or threatens to fight someone. she needs a girl who can take it and then give it right back.

all you ever wanted was to make melissa feel good.

you knew from the start of your relationship that she was a top. but at first, you weren't sure what she liked: did she want you to be her good girl? or did she enjoy a challenge?

within a few weeks, you had pieced together the answer: it depended on the day. on bad days, all she wanted was her sweet, obedient angel.

one night she came home deflated, having fought with barbara over a teacher appreciation gift from the district. she pulled you into her and didn't let go, holding you close through hours of gentle sex. you were so soft, so comforting, so good.

"come sit on my lap, babydoll," she had said, patting her legs where she sat on the sofa. you obliged.

"are you okay?" you asked, searching her eyes for frustration and regret.

"i am now," she whispered as she caressed up your thighs, smiling as you nuzzled into her neck to hide your whimper. "just do what i say 'n make your pretty noises, and i'll be just fine."

good days were a different story. competition and conflict excited melissa. she felt most like herself when she was telling somebody off or winning some game. so, when things were quiet at work or when she was feeling playful, you were more than happy to give her the challenge she craved. your attitude drove her insane, and putting you in your place was always exhilarating.

tonight was a good night. you could tell from the moment she walked in the door, carrying that massive read-a-thon belt. she was on top of the world after her victory, and now she needed another conquest.

you twirled around the kitchen as you cooked dinner in your thin sleep shirt and little shorts. melissa loved seeing you like this: comfy, happy, and best of all, lightly clothed.

you smirked to yourself as you hatched a plan. instead of greeting her like usual, you pretended not to see her come in. then you held up your phone and took a selfie that just happened to provide a view down your shirt. melissa saw it all.

"whatcha doin', hon?" melissa raised an eyebrow at you, still smiling from a great day at work.

"oh, nothing. just texting ava," you replied coyly. melissa's jaw clenched ever so subtly.

you had been friends with ava since back when you were still working at abbott. melissa wasn't jealous of your friendship with ava. no, what irritated her was how shamelessly ava would check you out and hit on you. ava's advances were never serious, she knew that. but melissa also knew that ava hit on you at least as much as she did gregory, and that was a problem in her book.

you smiled at her and went back to your cooking like it was nothing. you were in for a fight tonight.

...

when you sat down in the living room to binge-watch wandavision after dinner, melissa attempted to stroke up your thighs several times. you refused her and innocently cuddled into her side.

all was going according to plan until you heard agatha say "good girl" on the television. you shuddered and pressed your legs together, and it did not go unnoticed by melissa.

"aw, hon. does that make you feel needy?"

she had the upper hand. but you could still salvage this.

"yes, agatha drives me crazy," you said, meeting her gaze and giving her a sultry smug look.

"i thought you liked wanda..." she grumbled, her jaw clenched. it was working.

"mmm no, agatha is more my type," you drawled. you remembered melissa dressed as the scarlet witch. that sinfully sexy costume. she had done it for you.

the fact that you were switching up on her now made her livid. your type? she wasn't your type?

"god, kathryn hahn..." you whispered when the camera focused in on agatha's magical fingers, absolutely selling that you were turned on. it pushed melissa over the edge.

in one swift move, she shut the tv off and crawled on top of you, pushing you into the couch by your sternum. the look in her eyes was dark, fiery, dangerous.

"take your clothes off," melissa growled, fire bubbling behind her eyes.

she pulled herself off of you and sat looking you over from the other end of the couch, an expectant look on her face.

"yes, ma'am," you scrambled to comply with her instructions, stripping eagerly in front of her.

"leave the panties on," melissa stopped you before you could drag your thong down your legs. "on the bed."

the two of you rushed up the stairs and over to the bedroom, her grabbing at your waist the entire time. melissa sat back against the pillows, her legs spread for you. she gestured between her legs and you knew what she wanted.

you squealed and quickly adjusted yourself to straddle her, your legs on either side of hers as you unbuttoned her shirt. she sat upright against the pillows, her messy hair framing her heated face.

once you had removed her shirt and bra, she fisted her hands in your hair and pushed your head downward. you quietly whimpered at the manhandling. she took the initiative to swiftly pull her pants and panties down to her ankles, giving you just one firm command: "be a good girl."

you parted her legs gently and dove in, licking wide stripes up her folds but avoiding her clit to tease her. it wasn't long before you felt a fist in your hair, pulling you off of her to meet her frustrated gaze.

"unless you want red handprints all over your ass, don't fuckin' tease," she sneered.

you were torn: you wanted that punishment, but you also wanted to be a good girl for her. you chose to be good for now, attaching your lips to her clit and making her groan in satisfaction. you could always push her buttons later.

"that's it, honey, right there," she choked out as you swirled your tongue around her clit. she wouldn't last long, already worked up from seeing you strip for her.

you lapped at her and sucked on her bundle of nerves, enjoying the chorus of good girl and don't stop until you felt her legs start to tremble around you. at that point, you pulled back, leaving her bucking up into nothing.

you gave her a mischievous grin and started to trace your lips with your thumb absentmindedly. you watched her seethe in anger, never taking her eyes off of you.

"oh, sorry, i think i smudged my lipstick. give me a second," you could hardly contain your giddiness at how angry she looked. you needed her to lose control.

without missing a beat, she grabbed your hair and forcefully pushed you back between her legs. all of her gentleness was gone.

"such a dumb fucking slut. can't even follow simple instructions," she scolded. "finish me off, whore, and then we'll work on your behavior."

you felt yourself get soaked again at the manhandling, her seething words and her promise to punish you. eager to make up for your misbehavior, you ate her out with reckless abandon. she reached her high within minutes, whispering filthy things to you the whole time.

"fuck, that's good. lookin' up at me like that with your big doe eyes. i'm gonna come all over that pretty, smart mouth."

she came with a low groan, coating your lips in her wetness. the sight was pornographic: you looked at her with hooded eyes and wet lips, slightly fearful of her next move. it was exhilarating.

when she had recovered, she sat up and stared you down, a twisted smirk on her face. you swore you knew what she would say before the words left her mouth.

"bend over my lap, beautiful." her tone was dark, but you could hear the excitement behind her words.

you scrambled to obey, laying face-down on her lap with your ass up, wiggling gently in front of her. enticing her.

for a minute, there was silence. she just watched in amusement as you squirmed in her lap, desperate for any kind of attention from her. from where she sat, she could see your arousal glistening on your thighs. she was drunk on the power.

"a little desperate, hmmm?" she teased. you nodded frantically. she started to trace light patterns on your ass with her fingernail. "let me tell you what's gonna happen now. i'm gonna spank your cute little ass until you're crying and begging me to stop. then, i'm gonna fuck you until you're so sensitive that you can't stand to be touched any more. sound good?"

while she was nonchalant, you were almost at your breaking point from her words alone. you were completely at her mercy. you managed a "yes" and nodded intently for her to continue with her plan, desperate to see it through to the end.

it was hardly a second later when she slapped your ass, hard. you should have seen it coming, but you still yelped in surprise. you felt throbbing between your legs as the pain spread through you.

this went on for a while, and eventually you lost count of how many times she'd hit your backside. tears rolled down your cheeks, and you hardly felt them. and you were soaking her lap with your arousal. melissa whispered filthy things to you the entire time.

"my pretty, little, brat," she emphasized each word with a harder slap.

when it finally stopped, she started to caress you all over and praise you for taking your punishment so well. her soft touch brought you back to reality, and she guided you to sit up.

"wow, sweetheart. you really made a mess," melissa said, gesturing to her legs which were sticky with your wetness. you hid your face in your hands.

"stop it, you know i wanna see you. in fact..." she trailed off with a smirk and reached to grab her phone off the nightstand. "touch yourself."

your mouth fell open at the command, and she gave you a challenging look. not wanting to push her any farther tonight, you did as she asked and tried to find a comfortable position.

"spread 'em wide, princess," she said, smiling down at her phone like she wasn't watching your every move.

a burning heat ran through you at her words. you leaned back and started to gently circle your clit through your panties, anxiously awaiting her next move. you were a whimpering, blushing mess when she finally looked up at you with a grin.

"stay just like that," she said while bringing her phone up to point it at you. you heard the clicking noise of the iphone camera and your eyes widened. melissa had never done anything like this before.

"w-what are you doing?" you barely managed the sentence as your fingers worked you up, making you gasp.

"oh, just givin' myself a little treat for later," she replied coyly. "and maybe next time you act up, i'll show ya these. make ya remember your place."

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling hot all over from your fingers and the humiliation. melissa noticed and put her phone aside to look in your eyes.

"color?" she whispered.

"pink..." you replied shyly. that meant she could keep going. she smiled and cupped your face in her hands, kissing you softly.

her hand traveled down to remove yours from between your legs. she finally laid you down on the bed, running her hands up your thighs. your legs fell open for her and she leaned in to inspect your swollen folds.

she hummed as she trailed two fingers through your wetness, earning her a pitiful noise. when she pulled away and mosied over to the dresser drawer, you knew what she was going to do.

"i think you're wet enough for the strap, don't you?" she pulled out a bright red one that you had never seen before. she watched your eyes as you reacted to its size.

"i bought this as a surprise for you knowin' you'd go crazy over it," she mused as she adjusted the harness and attached the dildo to it.

"mel, it's... big," you said, looking up at her with wide eyes as she positioned herself above you.

"yeah, hon, that's why i bought it," she teased, smirking as if it was the most obvious reply in the world. you breathed a sigh of relief as she covered the strap in a thick layer of lube.

she took the cock in one hand and maneuvered it through your folds, pressing on your clit and making you cry out. you shuddered when she positioned it at your entrance.

"you ready for me?" melissa trailed a finger under your chin and forced you to meet her eyes.

"pink," you breathed, and she pushed the tip in. you felt the stretch immediately, and melissa used her free hand to rub your abdomen soothingly.

she continued to work her way into you, her hand never stopping its comforting motions. when she bottomed out, you felt so full you could hardly breathe. it was a thrill.

you nodded at her to signal she could move, and she started to fuck you slow and hard. the size of the strap-on allowed her to hit places that you'd never felt before, and you couldn't hold back your moans.

her thrusts became rougher very quickly, and she dug her thumbs into your hips to balance herself. you knew there would be marks there tomorrow. her pace and the low groans she let out suggested that she was still hanging on to some frustration in need of release.

she hit your g-spot and you screamed, overwhelmed with the feeling of her. she noticed the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching: shaking legs, parted lips, strangled moans. in response, melissa reached down to rub your bundle of nerves roughly, and that sent you over the edge.

"good girl, so good," she coaxed you through your high. you thought she would stop after one. oh how naive you were. you were trembling and squirming away from her, and she just continued to rub your clit, rocking gently inside you.

"come on, honey, give me another, i know you can," she encouraged you, peppering you with sweet kisses. you nodded and she started to fuck you again in earnest.

every nerve ending in your body was buzzing, and all you could feel was melissa. she thrusted into you like her life depended on it, and you admired her face as she worked you. her red hair hung around her face, which had also become red from the exertion. it felt amazing—hell, it felt insane—to feel her hitting all the most sensitive spots inside you. but it felt even more amazing to have the sexiest woman on the planet on top of you, working your body like it was her life's mission.

when your second orgasm washed over you, it was more intense than the first. it drained all the power from your body and you surrendered yourself to your fiery lover. she again whispered sweet nothings in your ear to help you along. when you had stopped shuddering, she pulled out.

you caught your breath and watched her rise to her feet, humming as she took off the strap. you could see a devious glint in her expression that told you you weren't done quite yet.

after that small taste of relief, melissa stalked over to you and spread your legs once more. you whined in discomfort, too sensitive to take any more.

"shhhh, baby, lemme clean you," she soothed before beginning to lap at you, savoring your taste. she tried to avoid your clit but her nose brushed against it, bringing a pained noise from you. she hummed into you and kept going, stroking your legs to relax you.

after you had gotten comfortable with the feeling of her tongue she drifted up to your clit, circling it but avoiding direct contact. you gasped and bucked up into her mouth despite your best efforts. even the smallest touch felt like an electric shock.

when your whines turned to quiet moans, melissa wrapped her mouth around your clit and started to suck, rolling her tongue over it. the pressure was white-hot and deadly, and it sent you over the edge in seconds.

"my sweet angel, i love you, you did so well for me..." she comforted you through the comedown. she stroked your sides and you relaxed into her touch, your heartbeat finally slowing. she placed a fond kiss on your forehead, then got up to get a washcloth and some water for you.

...

"i won the read-a-thon today..." she said while she cleaned you.

"i noticed," you giggled, smiling up at her. the love in her eyes made the green irises sparkle and swim with possibility. "i'm so proud of you."

"you coulda said that earlier!" she joked, recalling your misbehavior. there was a comfortable silence before she spoke again. "actually, i think i like it when you fight me a little."

you gazed at her fondly and laughed again, feeling warm and cared for. "i noticed."

[msschemmenti]

Hi,

Would it be possible to request a Mel & OFC(don’t mind who, reader or not just that they are not together or even good friends yet) where Mel is upset/ill/injured/scared or any combination of those and no-one at abbot notices and/or cares except ofc who comforts/supports/helps etc her and shows her it’s ok to need/want and ask for help/support/comfort please? They end up much closer by the end Sorry hope that made sense. Thanks 😊

A/N : hi! thank you so much for this request. i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish. i've been doing a lot of reading, BUT here it is and i hope you enjoy it. i am finishing all (2) of my requests so feel free to send more if you'd like <3

Black Ice

pairing: melissa x reader

warnings: injury/pain

Wc: 1300

Winter in Philly. Beautiful and dangerous. Especially when you work at a neglected school with a janitor who always seems to be doing anything but his job. As soon as Melissa pulled into the parking lot, she could see the snow covering the steps of the school. The parking lot had a few cars in it, but none that looked like Mr. Johnson and she made a mental note to tell Ava about the hazard. Melissa collected her purse and made her way toward the doors when she felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her jacket. She paused at the steps and pulled the device out to check the notification. 

Barbara: Think I caught whatever cold has been tearing through the kindergarten. Taking the day. If the sub asks, you know where the plans are. Prayers xx Barb

Melissa sighed solemnly, getting ready to craft a message to reassure her friend she’d handle it. 

Melissa: I got it, feel better. Let me know if you need anything.

As soon as she hit send she moved to head up the stairs and hit a slick patch of ice. It happened far too fast for her to actually do anything, but once she was down she was down. She tried grabbing the railing but fell just short and found her back soaking wet with the ice and slush. 

“Shit.” She hissed quietly as she felt the pain spreading through her body. She took a moment to catch her breath before rolling to her knees to get up. With a steady hand on the railing she pulled herself up, dusting her back off as far as she could reach. Melissa’s eyes danced across the parking lot looking for anyone that could’ve seen and sighed at the still empty parking lot. 

The first step instantly stopped her as a spot of pain shot through her leg and up her back. She groaned as it faded as she took the weight off of her foot and gazed down at her boot-clad foot. There didn’t seem to be any physically visible marks but she could tell it was bruised somehow. But she had no time to worry about that. With squared shoulders and practiced stoicism, Melissa Schemmenti mustered all of her strength to enter the school as normally as possible. And with that strength, she planned on making it through the school day as well.

The day had gotten off to a pretty bad start for Melissa and it only seemed to be getting worse as her pain increased. Despite the throbbing radiating through her body, she made no attempts at getting help. She did her best to show no signs of damage and when she couldn’t she made sure she was alone to react. No one really seemed to notice and that was serving the redhead for the day. Without her best friend, she wasn’t expected to talk or engage as much when in the break room. For her students, she taught from her desk and if anyone needed help she had them come to her. She walked the halls alone and limited all of her normal interactions to only the necessary ones. She was cruising rather uncomfortably through the day. 

What she didn’t account for was Y/n, a newer teacher being observant. Y/n stayed to herself most days and only really spoke when spoken to but she did a lot of watching. She and Melissa really weren’t close at all, but she’d spoke to her in passing when Mrs. Howard was around. SO when the day started the first thing she realized was that Barbara Howard was not at school today. She didn’t see her car in the parking lot and her theory was further confirmed when she wasn’t standing outside of her door waiting for her students to arrive. With that realization, this prompted Y/n to locate the redhead who seemed to be bound to Mrs. Howard’s hip during the day. 

Instead of catching the older woman standing tall in her most intimidating stance like usual, there was a certain slouch to Melissa in the halls. Chalking it up to exhaustion and not having her best friend around Y/n didn’t think too hard about the change. But then there was the limping she caught her doing on her way to the bathroom. And then there was the point where she stopped to lean against the brick walls of the hall when returning from the break room. Her hands seemed to hover over her lower back as she hobbled down the nearly empty halls. Y/n had never really noticed how often she saw the redhead, but with all the changes in her behavior, she was grateful she did. Something was definitely off with Melissa Schemmenti. And knowing her, she was planning to suffer through the rest of the day in pain.

Y/n peaked her head around the threshold of Melissa’s classroom cautiously.  The redhead was sitting at her desk, leaned as far back as the chair would allow her. Her eyes were closed and her face was contorted in pain. She paused in fear briefly and contemplated turning back and heading to the break room with the rest of the teachers but she stilled her nerves and pushed ahead. Melissa was scary, but she was also in pain. Y/n cleared her throat quietly, rousing the older woman from her state. As Melissa’s eyes hardened, Y/n almost turned back again. She’d had a total of maybe 5 conversations with the older woman since she started and now she was standing in her classroom, uninvited. The women stared at each other silently, Melissa challenging Y/n to say something. Y/n praying this plan doesn’t backfire. Just as she was about to give up and look away, Y/n tossed a bag on Melissa’s desk.

“I’m not sure where the pain is, and I know you won’t tell me but here.” 

Melissa grumbles and doesn’t reach for the bag. Y/n merely chuckles, and reaches into the bag to pull out an ice pack. When Melissa doesn’t take the pack from her hand Y/n sits the pack on her desk and pushes it toward her. “Let me know if you need anything else. I won’t say anything to anyone else, but if the pain gets any worse please come find me.”

Melissa eyed her suspiciously, attempting to read her intentions but she found nothing but genuine concern. Before she could say anything, Y/n stopped her with a gentle smile. “It’s okay to ask for help and I know that’s easier said than done but it’s still true.” 

Melissa’s eyes softened a bit at the younger woman’s words. She gave a barely visible nod of gratitude and ducked her head toward her desk. Y/n, feeling satisfied with the conversation, headed for the door and her own classroom. Melissa watched her go quietly and couldn’t help seeing the younger woman with new eyes.

 

The next day went as any day would. Except it didn’t. Y/n pulled into the school as she normally did. Trapezing from the parking lot and into her classroom. The only difference in her routine was the plastic bag hanging from her door knob. She grabbed the bag and examined it curiously before unlocking her door and heading inside the classroom. She settled behind her desk and shook the bag hoping to figure out what it could be. With no rattle, she finally opened the bag to reveal a Tupperware container of what looked to be the most delicious pastry to ever exist. The worn red container screamed Melissa and if the scrawled instructions for return were any sign to go by, this was some sort of thank you. 

[murcielagatito]

ive got a whole ass backstory for them now. barb and mel didnt like eachother when they first met. well, barbara, chic repressed woman of god, could not stand how shameless bad girl mel was

[ivebeenherebefore25]

What is Love Worth? 3/?

Melissa left pretty quickly after we ate the food she cooked, saying she had to shower and get to bed so she'd wake up early. That was last night at midnight, of course, and here I am twelve hours later STILL only thinking about her. Which is no good, obviously, because I am a twenty three year old adult with a job and papers to grade. How is it that some weird white lady from South Philly has taken over my entire existence.....and she doesn't even seem to know it. Or maybe she does know and she just doesn't care that much? Because she has a Boyfriend? Who, might I add, gets ALL of the benefits of their relationship, but does not seem to be able to carry his weight in the bedroom, apparently. I want that chance with her. 

With a deep sigh I force myself out of my head and back to reality, I push myself off of the couch with an exaggerated grunt and head to my exquistely adorned spare bedroom that I do my work in and begin grading the assignments from my beloved third grade Abbott crew. Teaching has been so wonderful, it truly is a blessing to be able to work with these kids, and to help shape the next generation of great minds. Teaching with Melissa is torture, however, because every second of the day she acts as if I do not even exist. And of course this hurts my feelings because she clearly isn't acting like that in private, but like, I get it in a way. I know she's, like, semi-closeted/not really, but been in a relationship for so long people in her life might not be accepting type of situation. It still stings, though, to see her forming these newly interpersonal relationships with Gregory, Jacob, and Janine when it seems like I'm the only person she doesn't care to notice. It's also not like anyone knows about us, or even suspects anything. I have no roommates, I came here from East Tennessee, and I have only one friend, who also came from East Tennessee with her cousin at the same time I did, and I haven't told her anything....for the first time....ever.  Whatever. 

I finish grading my paper around three, taking a while longer than normal since I did let them pile up for a couple of weeks, and put my things away, replacing the pen in my hand with my cellphone. No notifications, of course, so I put that away, too, and head to my bed for a short nap before mentally preparing myself for the week. 

_

I wake up way later than intended, around nine-thirty pm, and immediately feel the consequences of not eating anything today, my stomach twisting and turning as I claw my way out of bed and into the kitchen to ravish the contents of my fridge. I spot the leftover container of ziti that Mel left for me, ugh how sweet is she, and hurriedly plate it before I pop it into the microwave. I head to the bathroom while my food is cooking, and when I get back it's ready for me, much to my approval. I do my little dancey-dance as I hum with pleasure at the first bite of the delicious food blessing my tongue with it's delectable flavors. Melissa really knows her way around a kitchen, I'll tell ya. 

Finally sated , I wash up my dishes and head to the bathroom and toward the sink to get myself a hydro from a hidden container underneath before stripping down for a quick shower. I'm pretty tired afterward, thank you drug gods, so I fall asleep relatively quickly after gathering all of the things I'll need ready in the morning and setting my alarm. 

_

The next morning my alarm wakes me up at six o'clock. I jump out of bed and ready myself for the day, throwing on a long, dark brown bodycon maxi dress, and black knee high heel boots with some cute socks peeking out at the top. Next, I grab my gold chain bracelet and a couple of bangels, my gold and brown dangly earrings, and choose a simple warm makeup look consisting of of a base, brown eyeshadow, slighly darker than my skin, mascara, eyeliner, and a two step lip combo. Fuck! I'm SO pretty. A couple minutes later I head out the door and down to my car, making it to school about 20 minutes later at seven o'clock on the dot. Perfect. Time to teach some kids; Or just listen to Ava explain her various affairs all day. Whichever is fine, if I'm honest.

Mel, Barb, and Jacob are already in the lounge talking when I head inside to make myself a coffee. Not a soul glances my way as Jacob continues going on about some new article he read while Barbara pretends to listen, and Melissa turns her attention to her phone with a small smirk on her face. Sitting down at the couch in the back I pull out my phone, as well, to delay the awkwardness of being blatantly ignored by everyone in the room while I finish my coffee. My tiktok doomscrolling is interrupted when Janine and Gregory enter the room, followed by a very excited, very loud Ava announcing a spontaneous trip to a nearby art museum fully funded by the district due to some new leverage she had over a group of higher-ups. Though, something tells me she is less excited for the kids' field trip, and more about the blackmail. Everyone else is excited for the museum, however, given that it's a Monday and not a single one of us really want to work. 

Shortly after, everyone heads to their classrooms to greet our students and their parents to inform the parents of the impromptu trip and to ensure everyone has permission to attend, so that Ava can make the necessary arrangements for the list of children who do not have permission. My class has a list of five students whose parents either said no, or did not enter the building at drop off. I feel sad for them, knowing how it feels to miss out on something because of my parents. I spot Mr. Johnson in the hall and call him over to watch my class while I deliver the five students to the pricipal's office. When I get to the office I transfer the studnets to Ava's care, reluctantly, and head back into the hall where I bump straight into Melissa and Barb, Melissa's stack of papers in her hand flying everywhere. She looks at me with an irritated huff as I bend down to retrieve them. 

"I am so sorry, Melissa. I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah, I got eyes. Unlike you, apparently." She rolls her eyes as I hand her the papers, already walking away leaving me with a shocked expression, stuck in place. 

"Someone's fucking grumpy," I huff to myself as I return to my classroom, now in a terrible mood.