#elementary imagines

[this-blog-needs-a-name]

Elementary Fic Recs

This is a list of incredible Elementary Sherlock x reader fanfics that I have read on Tumblr.

Can I Help You? by @wrecklessimagine Sherlock x reader (0.9k)

Feelings to Embrace by @make-me-imagine Sherlock Holmes x GN!Reader (1.3k)

Hospital Part 1 | Part 2 by @wrecklessimagine Sherlock x reader (2.1k)

Panic Attack Imagine by @prider-parker-imaginations Sherlock Holmes x GN!Reader (0.2k)

Stay Part 1 | Part 2 by @writefasttalkevenfaster Sherlock Holmes x f!Reader (8k)

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Does anyone remember that ONE Captain Underpants book where George and Harold messed with fucking time travel and met their future selves who were married with kids and had successful careers as comic book creators or was that a fever dream?

I like to imagine that in the canon universe the new Dog Man movie was initially drafted and submitted by George and Harold as a concept, thinking it wouldn’t be accepted but wanting to give it a shot anyways.

⬇️ This was the wildest thing ever to my 11 year old brain btw. So wild that I didn’t even register that Harold is canonically gay.

[glorifiedagents]

Good Grades — melissa schemmenti

MELISSA SMIRKED, popping the button of your pants, dragging the zipper down slowly. The second your cock sprang free, her eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as she wrapped her hand around your thick length.

“JESUS BABY,” she breathed, thumb swiping over the swollen tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum across the head. “You’re fuckin’ dripping for me.”

SUMMARY: melissa wants your attention on her PAIRING: melissa schemmenti & g!p fem!reader CAUTION: no plot, just smut: g!p fem!reader, swearing, blowjob/deepthroat, overstimulation, melissa masturbating, sub!dom!dynamics, riding your cock, degradation/praise, melissa begging, creampie, swallowing cum WORD COUNT: 2.6K

Papers were scattered across Melissa’s dining table, a half-empty glass of wine sitting next to her forgotten stack of assignments. You were actually trying to focus, pen in hand, but it was fucking impossible with Melissa sitting across from you, legs crossed, red nails tapping against her wine glass as she eyed you like a damn meal.

It started with her kicking off her heels, stretching her legs out under the table until her foot brushed against your thigh. You shot her a look, but she just smirked, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

"You're supposed to be grading," you muttered, eyes flicking back to the essay in front of you.

Melissa leaned forward, her curls spilling over her shoulder. "Yeah? And you're supposed to be paying attention to me."

Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the buttons of her blouse, slowly popping the first one open. Then the next. Your breath hitched as more of her smooth skin was revealed, the black lace of her bra barely containing her tits.

Your grip on the pen tightened.

“Melissa.” This time, it was a warning.

But she just laughed softly, standing up. “You can keep grading, sweetheart,” she murmured, slipping the blouse off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “I’ll just keep myself busy.”

Then she dropped to her knees in front of you.

Your chair scraped against the floor as she settled between your legs, her hands sliding up your thighs, nails dragging just enough to send a shiver up your spine.

"Been thinking about this all damn night," she murmured, palming the bulge in your pants, feeling how hard you already were for her.

"Fuck," you exhaled sharply, hips jerking slightly as she squeezed.

Melissa smirked, popping the button of your pants, dragging the zipper down slowly. The second your cock sprang free, her eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as she wrapped her hand around your thick length.

“Jesus, baby,” she breathed, thumb swiping over the swollen tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum across the head. “You’re fuckin’ dripping for me.”

"Quit teasing," you growled, tangling your fingers in her curls.

She giggled but obeyed, leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss to the tip before sliding her tongue along the underside, dragging it down to the base. The sensation made your stomach tighten, your grip in her hair flexing as she sucked one of your balls into her mouth, rolling it with her tongue before giving the other the same treatment.

Your head hit the back of the chair. "Fucking hell."

She pulled back with a wet pop, smirking up at you before finally wrapping her lips around your cock and sinking down.

You groaned as she took you inch by inch, the heat of her mouth damn near unbearable. Her tongue flattened against the underside, working you as she bobbed her head, sucking you in deeper, cheeks hollowing with every pull.

"Shit, just like that," you gritted out, one hand fisting her hair while the other gripped the edge of the table.

Melissa moaned around you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine. She took you deeper, her throat constricting as your tip hit the back, making her gag slightly — but she didn’t stop. She wanted it.

Your abs tensed as she worked you over, spit dripping down her chin, making it messier, filthier. Her free hand slid between her legs, rubbing slow, lazy circles over her clit through her soaked panties.

"Look at you," you muttered, watching as she squirmed. "Touchin’ yourself while you choke on my cock."

She whimpered, thighs clenching.

You smirked. "Bet you wanna cum, huh?"

She nodded as best as she could with your cock stretching her mouth.

“Not yet,” you growled, tightening your grip in her hair as you started thrusting up into her throat.

Melissa choked, hands scrambling to grip your thighs as you set the pace, fucking her mouth like she was just there to take it. Her eyes fluttered, tears spilling down her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. She just let you use her.

“Such a good little slut for me,” you groaned, watching as her mascara smudged, her lips swollen and wrecked. “Taking it all like you were fuckin’ made for it.”

She whined around you, fingers pressing harder against her clit, rubbing frantically as her hips bucked against nothing.

You could feel it building — your stomach tightening, pleasure coiling deep in your gut. Your cock twitched, your thrusts growing erratic, your grip in her hair keeping her right where you needed her.

"Fuck—I'm gonna—"

Melissa moaned eagerly, sucking harder, begging for it without words.

Your jaw clenched as you finally let go, hips jerking as you spilled down her throat. She swallowed every fucking drop, moaning as she kept sucking, milking every last bit from you until you were groaning from the overstimulation.

When you finally released her hair, she pulled back, gasping for breath, spit and cum dripping from her lips. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand, grinning up at you like the filthy fucking woman she was.

"Taste so fuckin’ good," she purred, licking her lips.

Your cock twitched at the sight, still half-hard, still ready for more.

Melissa sat back on her heels, her own hand still between her thighs, rubbing slow, teasing circles over her clit as she watched you recover.

"Can I cum now?" she asked, voice sweet, wrecked, desperate.

You smirked, leaning forward, grabbing her chin, tilting her head up. "Not on the floor."

Then you pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the damn table, papers scattering as you pressed against her ass.

"You wanna cum?" you growled against her ear, your hands sliding up her trembling thighs. "You're gonna do it with my cock inside you."

Her breath hitched, a shiver rolling down her spine.

"Fuck, baby," she whispered, gripping the edge of the table. "Don't hold back." She shivered, pressing back against you, ass grinding against your still-hard cock like she was desperate to be filled.

"Please," she breathed, her voice wrecked, needy.

"That desperate already?" You chuckled darkly, gripping the zipper at the back of her skirt and dragging it down. "Bet you're soaking, huh?"

She whimpered, shifting her weight, thighs squeezing together.

You yanked the skirt down her legs, tossing it aside before grabbing the waistband of her lace panties. The second you pulled them down, your smirk widened.

"Jesus, baby," you muttered, dragging a finger through her slick folds, spreading her wetness. "You're fucking drenched."

Melissa let out a shuddery breath, hips twitching as your fingers teased her clit. "Y-yeah," she gasped. "Needed you all night."

"Yeah?" You slid one finger inside her, groaning at how fucking tight she was. "Been sitting there, pretending to be patient, when all you really wanted was my cock splitting you open?"

She nodded frantically, rocking back onto your hand, fucking herself on your fingers.

"Such a needy little thing," you murmured, sliding in another finger, curling them against that sweet spot that made her legs tremble. "And you still don’t get to cum yet."

Melissa let out a choked whine, her walls clenching around your fingers. "Fuck," she whimpered, "I need you inside me, please -"

You pulled your fingers out, grabbing her by the back of the neck and pushing her down against the table.

"Then take it," you growled.

You lined yourself up, dragging the tip of your cock through her slick folds, teasing her entrance, letting her feel just how thick you were. She let out a desperate whimper, pushing back against you, trying to take you inside, but you held her in place, smirking.

"Look at you," you mused, watching her squirm. "So fucking desperate to be filled."

"Yes," she whined. "Fuck me pleaseeeee."

That was all you needed.

With one sharp thrust, you buried yourself inside her, stretching her open inch by inch.

"Jesus fuck," you groaned, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as her walls clamped down around you, tight and wet and fucking perfect.

Melissa gasped, fingers gripping at the table as she struggled to adjust to your size. "Fucking hell," she panted, "so big —"

"Yeah?" You pulled back just enough to slam back in, grinning at the way her body jolted, a broken moan ripping from her throat. "That what you wanted, baby?"

"Yes," she sobbed, pushing back against you. "Use me.. fuck me—"

And fuck, you did.

You set a brutal pace, slamming into her over and over, your cock stretching her, filling her to the brim with every deep, rough thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with Melissa's breathy little whimpers and the filthy, wet noises coming from between her legs.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you groaned, gripping the back of her neck, pressing her harder against the table. "So fucking tight, taking me so well."

Melissa was gone, moaning incoherently, her body rocking with every thrust, her walls squeezing around you like she was trying to milk your cock.

"You were made for this, huh?" You reached around, rubbing messy, frantic circles over her swollen clit, feeling the way she tensed, her legs trembling. "Made to take my cock?"

"Yes," she gasped, her voice wrecked. "Yes, yes—fuck—"

Her whole body tensed, her walls clamping down around you, and then she screamed, legs shaking as she came, soaking your cock, grinding against you as she rode out the high.

"Jesus fuck," you groaned, feeling her squeeze you like a vice. "That’s it, baby — fuckin’ cum all over my cock."

She whimpered, still trembling, body twitching from the aftershocks, but you weren’t done.

"Still got one more load for you," you muttered, gripping her hips and slamming into her again. "Gonna fill you up, baby. Make sure you feel me dripping out of you all night."

Melissa let out a broken moan, her overstimulated pussy clenching around you. "Yesfuckyes—"

You felt it building, the pleasure coiling tight in your stomach, your thrusts getting faster, harder, sloppier.

"Shit... gonna cum!"

You slammed in one last time, burying yourself to the hilt as you spilled inside her, thick ropes of cum coating her walls.

Melissa moaned, arching her back as she felt it, her pussy squeezing around you, milking every last drop.

You stayed like that for a moment, panting, catching your breath, before slowly pulling out. Your cum leaked from her, dripping down her thighs, and fuck — that was a sight you’d never get tired of.

Melissa was still bent over the desk, panting, her thighs trembling, your cum leaking out of her in thick drips. She looked completely wrecked—hair a mess, mascara smudged, lips swollen from sucking you off earlier. “Holy fuck.” She murmured,

But when you reached down and spread her cheeks, watching another drop of your cum spill onto the floor, she let out a soft whimper and fucking clenched.

"Goddamn," you murmured, dragging your fingers through the mess between her legs. "Look at you. Still hungry for more?"

She whimpered, shifting against the desk, pressing her ass back toward you like she needed to be filled again.

"Fucked you stupid, huh?" you teased, sliding a finger back inside her, groaning at how wet she still was — soaked with her own slick and your cum.

"Mhm," she hummed, exhausted but still needy.

You smirked, sliding your hand up her back, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her up until her back was flush against your chest.

"You ain't done yet, baby," you murmured against her ear. "You're gonna ride me."

She shuddered, gasping softly as you pulled her away from the table. Her legs were weak, shaking from how hard you'd fucked her, but she still turned in your arms, eyes dark and needy as she climbed into your lap, straddling you right there in the chair.

"You sure you can take it?" you taunted, gripping her ass, spreading her wide. "You were just begging for me to let you cum."

Melissa rolled her hips, dragging her soaked cunt along your still-hard cock, coating it in a fresh layer of slick. "Shut up," she murmured, pressing her lips to yours, kissing you dirty, sloppy, messy, desperate. "I'm taking every fucking inch."

You growled against her mouth, gripping her hips as she lifted herself, lining you up with her entrance.

Then she sank down.

Both of you groaned as you filled her up again, her tight walls stretching around you, clenching as she took you deep.

"Fucking hell," you gritted out, watching her struggle to take it all, her nails digging into your shoulders as she shuddered.

Melissa tossed her head back, her lips parting in a breathy moan as she started rolling her hips, grinding down onto you, taking you so deep it was like she needed you there.

"That's it, baby," you groaned, your hands sliding up her waist, grabbing her tits, squeezing. "Fucking ride me."

She whimpered, bracing herself against your shoulders, lifting herself up only to slam back down, gasping as your cock filled her completely.

"Fuck," she moaned, throwing her head back, moving faster, her tits bouncing with every movement. "Feels so good—"

You groaned, watching her, completely transfixed.

"You like that?" you murmured, running your tongue over your lips. "Like bouncing on my cock, fucking yourself stupid?"

She nodded frantically, nails raking down your chest as she rode you harder, her slick dripping down onto your thighs.

"You're such a filthy little thing," you growled, leaning in to suck one of her nipples into your mouth, biting down just enough to make her squeal.

"Yesfuckyes—" she sobbed, her hips moving frantically, chasing her next orgasm.

"Look at you," you muttered, grabbing a fistful of her ass, helping her move faster. "Fucking yourself on my cock like you're made for it."

"I am," she gasped, slamming down even harder, grinding against you. "Made to take your cock, fuck, I—I'm gonna—"

Her body tensed, her walls clamping down around you like a vice as she screamed, her orgasm crashing over her like a fucking wave.

But you weren’t done.

Before she could even recover, you gripped her hips tight and started thrusting up into her, fucking her through it, ignoring the way her body twitched from the overstimulation.

"Fuckfuck—" she sobbed, hands scrambling against your shoulders, nails digging in deep.

"You can take it," you growled, hips snapping up, hitting that spot inside her that had her wailing.

Her thighs shook, her whole body rocking as you held her down and fucked her, making sure she felt everything.

You felt it building, that sharp, white-hot pleasure curling in your gut, your cock twitching deep inside her.

"Gonna fill you up again," you groaned, thrusting harder, gripping the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to yours. "You want that, baby? Want me to cum so fucking deep you’ll be leaking for days?"

"Yes," she sobbed, her walls squeezing you, overstimulated but still desperate. "Cum inside me — fill me up please.."

That was all it took.

With a final, deep thrust, you buried yourself inside her and spilled, thick ropes of cum coating her walls, filling her to the brim.

Melissa moaned weakly, shuddering as she felt it, her body slumping against yours.

You held her close, both of you panting, sweating, completely wrecked.

After a long moment, she let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips.

"Fuck," she murmured. "You really don't know how to quit, huh?"

You smirked, running your hands over her ass, squeezing. "Not when you're this fucking perfect."

She chuckled, resting her forehead against yours. "Think you can carry me to bed?" she asked, still trembling in your lap.

You grinned, tightening your arms around her. "Baby, I’ll fuck you there, too."

[gildedwillow]

you don’t get to come ‘til you fuck yourself dumb on it - melissa schemmenti - 18+

.

she makes you ride her hands-free—just your hips working to take all of her, over and over again. every bounce makes the water splash, your tits bobbing in her face while she licks and sucks your nipples raw. “look at you,” she growls, grip bruising on your thighs. “stuffed full and desperate. Is that all you’re good for, huh? taking cock like a dumb little slut?”

.

melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

You’re already soaking by the time you straddle her lap, hot tub water sloshing around your waist, and Melissa’s just sitting there like she owns the place—hell, owns you. That smug fucking smirk on her lips, red hair pulled up, tanned skin glistening, tits practically spilling out of a tiny black bikini top. Her eyes are locked between your legs, hungry.

And underneath the surface, you feel it—her strap, thick and hard, bumping up against your pussy, just waiting for you to sink down on it.

She raises a brow. “You gonna sit on it, or you need help like the needy little bitch I know you are?”

Your pussy clenches, already slick and aching. You reach down under the water, guiding the thick silicone head between your folds, and the second it nudges your entrance, you whimper. You're already so wet it slides in almost too easy—stretching you, thick and deep, dragging against every nerve-ending inside you until you bottom out with a desperate moan.

“Fuck,” you breathe, hands on her shoulders.

But Melissa slaps them off. “Nah. No hands. You ride it all by yourself. Show me how bad you need it.”

You bite your lip, already shaking. That strap is big—long and girthy, curved just right to hit that spot over and over—but it’s the base of it grinding against your clit while you ride that sends you reeling. You start moving, slow at first, hips circling, grinding down on her. Your pussy’s gripping it tight, walls fluttering, so full you can barely think.

“Look at that tight fuckin’ cunt,” Melissa growls, watching your tits bounce as you ride her. “So greedy for cock. You hear that?”

Slap, slap, slap—your soaked pussy smacking against her hips, water sloshing hard with every bounce, spilling over the edge of the tub.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ hear it. That wet little pussy loves me.”

You nod, jaw slack, riding faster now, ass bouncing on her lap as you fuck yourself dumb. She’s not even helping—just letting you take all of it on your own, hands behind her head like she’s enjoying the fuckin’ show. And she is.

And then she moans. Deep, low, throatier than you expected.

You blink, panting. “Are—are you…”

She bites her lip. “Yeah, baby. That harness is rubbin’ my clit just right. Keep bouncin’ like that and I’ll fuckin’ come with you.”

That snaps something in you. You fuck her harder, harder, like you need to make her come now, not just for you but for her—need to see her fall apart while you’re split open on her strap.

“Shit, just like that—ride it, baby. Fuck—grind that sloppy cunt on me, I wanna feel you squeeze.”

You're both a mess. Your pussy’s soaked, stretched around the strap, dripping down to the base and mixing with the hot tub water. Her hips start thrusting up to meet yours, chasing that pressure as the harness grinds her clit raw. Water’s crashing over the edge with every move now, the sound of your pussy squelching around the strap obscene, wet and filthy.

You grab the edge of the tub just to keep from collapsing.

“Fuckfuckfuck—Mel—”

“Yeah, come on, baby—come on that cock, show me how good this fuckin’ strap ruins you—”

You scream when it hits. Whole body going stiff, legs locking, pussy pulsing so hard around the strap it almost knocks the air outta you. Melissa’s hands slam down on your hips, dragging you down hard onto her cock just as she gasps and shudders, her thighs clenching.

“Fuuuck—yeah, yeah—fuckin’ comin’ too, baby, fuck—”

You grind through it together, gasping, whimpering, cumming so hard the water damn near boils. She holds you tight, her strap still buried deep inside your wrecked pussy while your cunt spasms around it, milking it like it’s real.

Eventually, you slump forward, forehead on her shoulder, water rippling around you both.

Melissa lets out a breathless laugh. “Hot tub���s the best fuckin’ investment I ever made.”

You can’t even speak. All you can do is whimper as the strap stays stuffed inside you, and her fingers start slowly trailing down to your clit again.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

You're still catching your breath when Melissa grips your hips under the water and growls, “Get the fuck up. Face-down. On the deck. Now.”

You don’t argue. You can’t. Your body’s buzzing, pussy still soaked and twitching around nothing now that she’s pulled the strap out. You scramble up the steps, dripping wet, legs shaking like a baby deer, and flop onto the wooden deck—cheeks flushed, hair a mess, still aching for her.

The air hits your skin like ice, goosebumps racing down your spine, but it doesn’t matter. You're on your hands and knees, thighs spread, ass high, and your pussy’s dripping—glossy and flushed, swollen from the way she fucked you in the tub. You can feel your slick mixing with the water sliding down your thighs, wetting the wood under your knees.

And then you hear it. Her footsteps behind you. Her breathing.

Click. The sound of the harness straps being tightened. Adjusted. Ready.

“Look at this pussy,” she mutters behind you, running her hand between your legs. Her fingers slide through your folds, slow and filthy. “So fuckin’ wet still. All sloppy for me.”

You arch for her, needy and whimpering.

Melissa doesn’t wait.

She slams back inside you in one deep thrust, burying the strap to the hilt, and you scream. Your hands shoot forward, bracing on the slick wood as her cock stretches you open again, filling you like she owns you.

“Fuck—fuck, Mel—”

“Shut up and take it.” Her voice is rough, low, right at your ear as she bends over you, chest to your back, one hand sliding up your throat to hold you still while she fucks you.

Her hips slap into your ass, again and again, water flying off both of you with every brutal thrust. Her strap hits deep, hard, angled just right to smash into your g-spot every time she pounds into you. The sound is obscene—wet, squelching, the smack of skin-on-skin echoing in the night.

Your pussy’s stretched wide, sucking the strap in over and over like you need it, like your body’s begging to be used. Your thighs are shaking, face shoved into the deck, drooling, moaning uncontrollably as she ruts into you like a fucking animal.

Melissa grips your hips tighter. “This what you wanted, huh? To get fucked face-down like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

You nod, but it’s pathetic—your face is mashed against the deck, lips parted, eyes rolling.

She spits on your back. Lets it run down your spine. Her hand slips between your legs, finding your clit, soaked and throbbing.

“Oh, you’re gonna come again, baby. I feel this pussy squeezing—she’s fuckin’ choking my cock.”

You sob. Your body jerks with every thrust. Her cock’s slamming into you with no rhythm now—just raw power, her own hips stuttering as the base of the strap grinds into her clit harder, rougher, soaked with your slick from earlier.

She’s panting, fucking into you like she’s chasing her own orgasm. “Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna—oh my god, I’m gonna fucking come—”

You feel her shake. Her hips grind deep, and you hear her moan, real and broken, her orgasm ripping through her as the harness rubs her clit raw, her thighs clenching around you.

And that’s it—you fall over the edge with her.

Your body explodes, pussy clamping down so hard on the strap you see stars. Your vision goes white, whole body tensing, jerking, moaning into the deck like an animal as she fucks you through it.

You’re both a mess. Her cock still buried deep in your spasming pussy, your juices dripping down your thighs onto the deck. Her hand still holding your throat, possessive and gentle all at once.

You whimper, trying to breathe.

Melissa leans down, presses a kiss to your spine. “That’s my good girl.”

You can’t even answer.

You’re drooling on the wood.

And she’s still inside you.

You’re still face-down on the deck, leaking and wrecked, when Melissa finally pulls out with a slow, wet sound that makes your cunt flutter again. The thick strap is coated—your slick clings to the silicone in thick, shiny strands, still warm from your pussy.

She grabs your hair and yanks you up to your knees. “Clean it,” she growls. “Mouth open. Now.”

Your tongue’s out before she finishes the sentence.

She brings the strap to your face, tilting your chin up, and presses the tip against your lips—shiny and messy with your own cum. The taste hits instantly: salty, sweet, yourself—still warm, still soaked. You lick it clean, moaning as your tongue drags over the curve of it, mouth wrapping around the head while she watches.

“Filthy little slut,” Melissa mutters, hand still tangled in your hair. “Look at you. So hungry for your own pussy, you’ll suck it off my cock.”

You choke a little when she pushes it deeper, and she laughs. A warm, rough sound.

When the whole thing’s clean—glistening from your spit—she finally undoes the harness, lets it drop to the deck, and leans back on the edge of the hot tub with a smirk. She spreads her legs wide, her bikini bottoms already pushed aside, her cunt on full display.

And fuck, she’s gorgeous.

Her pussy’s flushed and wet, glistening with her own slick, lips full and puffy from how hard she came earlier—like her clit’s still throbbing, begging for more. She smells so good—that raw, musky sweetness that hits you right in the brain.

“Get in,” she says, nodding to the water.

You slide in, the heat swallowing your body as you move toward her. She’s perched on the edge now, legs open, and you settle between them, hands on her thighs, breath already shaky.

“Taste me,” Melissa says, voice low, almost a threat. “Don’t stop ‘til I’m fuckin’ shaking.”

You don’t waste a second.

Your tongue slides between her folds, licking a fat stripe up her slit, and she moans. Her taste floods your mouth—salty, earthy, hot, with that rich tang of her cum still fresh from earlier. You go slow at first, savoring it, sucking her clit into your mouth and flicking your tongue over it until she’s gasping.

“Fuck—yeah, baby, right there—”

You grip her thighs tighter, then move your hands up to her tits. You tug the bikini top down and start playing with her nipples—pinching and rolling them between your fingers while your mouth works her cunt like it’s your last meal.

She’s dripping down your chin, thighs twitching under your grip. You drag your tongue down to her entrance, fuck her with it, deep and filthy, then suck her clit back into your mouth while your fingers pinch both her nipples at once.

Her whole body jerks.

“Oh fuck—fuck—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

You moan into her, sucking harder, faster, her clit swollen and twitching against your tongue, and that’s when it hits her.

She screams your name—hips snapping forward, cunt grinding against your face as she cums. Hard. Wet. Messy.

Her thighs clamp around your head, and you stay there, licking and sucking through it, her juices flooding your mouth—hot, slippery, and just a little sweet. You swallow every drop, tongue lapping up everything that spills out while your fingers keep tugging on her nipples.

She’s gasping, legs shaking, hand in your hair, holding you there while she rides it out.

When she finally loosens her grip, you pull back, panting, lips and chin soaked in her cum. Her chest is rising and falling, tits heaving, her pussy still glistening and twitching.

She looks down at you with that crooked grin.

“Fuckin’ knew you’d be good at that,” she murmurs. “Get back up here, sweetheart. I ain’t done with you yet.”

[daddiesdrarryy]

*1985, Hogwarts kindergarten*

Harry: Professor Black, I accidentally dropped my seed into my mouth and then I accidentally ate it. Am I going to have a lemon tree grow inside my belly?

Regulus: Well, let’s think about it. Did you also swallow a wet paper towel?

Harry: Yes

Regulus: …

Regulus: Alright, let’s go see Poppy, Harry

[milfjuulpod]

Miniskirt

Despite your impeccable fashion sense and popularity among others, Melissa pays seemingly no attention to the flattering clothes you adorn yourself in.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, karaoke episode but does not follow the plot at all, angst with happy ending

A/N: hi friends, hope you enjoy this oneshot, i had a lot of fun writing it since it's inspired by one of my favorite songs, miniskirt by AOA. highly recommend btw. enjoy!

taglist: @schemmentisimpasours (lmk if you want to be added)

Fashion was something that always came easily to you, finding the perfect pieces for every occasion. Never over dressed, never under, always on point.

Working as an elementary school teacher put that to the test a few times, after all, it's not the cleanest of jobs out there. With the crafting, food, and children always running around, accidents are bound to happen.

Nonetheless, you found a way to balance functional and cute work attire, something that quickly caught the attention of those you worked with.

Abbott Elementary was…functional. What the school lacked in glamour, the teachers and students made up for in love and care.

As soon as you started working there and joined the misfit crew of teachers, the principal seemed to take a liking to you. Always commenting about your outfits, saying things like she finally had met her match.

You weren't sure whether that was flirtatious or competitive, something told you it was a bit of both. After a few weeks of this, you got used to it, and a few other teachers always complimented you as well. Although, more appropriately than Ava did.

After about a month or so of working at Abbott, you found yourself in good company with a handful of the teachers there, those who dubbed themselves as “the after school crew,” but you're pretty sure it was just Jacob who used the terminology.

They were good people, and even the more closed off teachers, like Melissa and Barbara, were opening themselves up to you. Barbara once described you as a “much needed change for Abbott,” and that stayed with you each and every day.

All of your new friends had something to say about your outfits, Janine was always intrigued about where you got certain items, Jacob had countless things to say about your sweaters, and even Barbara had complimented you quite a few times.

It wasn't necessary, but it was nice. Getting these compliments, or lack thereof, never phased you. Even on days when only one person would say something nice, it never was upsetting. It's not like you dressed to get compliments, so getting them or not never affected you.

Except for now.

Now, there was only one teacher, one person, who never once had something to say about the way you dress. And it really bothered you.

Melissa was always silent when others would compliment you, despite her eyes trailing up and down your entire body, as if she were studying you.

The two of you had a very casual friendship, going to each other for help with work and occasionally gossiping or sharing personal stories during breaks.

Melissa was hard to read more often than not, but with time she softened up around you. Always listening to your words with all of her attention, remembering things you've told her.

She would often compliment your work ethic, or if you said something funny she made sure it was clear she enjoyed it. For whatever reason, though, Melissa never said anything about how you looked. It was strange, considering your friendly banter and her being open to giving other compliments, and that irked you.

Especially after being there for a few months. It became somewhat of a game or a ritual in the break room at work, you'd walk in dressed well as usual, and someone would compliment you as creatively as they could. Currently the favorite was when Janine said, “You look like me if I had more money.”

And still, Melissa was quiet. Just watching you with a focused expression as you conversed with others, until you made your way over to her table. You usually bounced back and forth between tables and socializing with friends, but lately Melissa has been acting a bit upset whenever you didn't choose her table.

You always wondered why she was like this, and could never figure it out. There were ideas, sure, but nothing definite. You had a feeling if Melissa wanted to express whatever feelings those were, she would, so leaving it alone seemed best.

Trying to figure out the Melissa Schemmenti was seemingly pointless. You spent so much time thinking about ways to get her attention, it eventually became clear that you wanted something more than the current standing friendship. Something…more intimate.

It started small, getting your nails done at a different salon and spending a bit more money on them than usual.

“Let me see the new set!” Ava exclaimed as soon as you entered the break room on a Wednesday morning. You had asked her for salon recommendations, so she was excited to see how it went.

Smiling, you practically skipped over and showed Ava your nails, putting your hands in hers and wiggling your fingers. “Cute, right?”

Ava looked at them in detail, appreciating the color and style you chose. A few of your other friends passed by and gave their praises as well.

Melissa, on the other hand, sat where she always does and didn't say anything. You didn't have to look to know she was watching, you could feel her green eyes on you.

And she was looking. Melissa’s eyes followed every movement of your fingers, nearly forgetting the reason they were being showed off in the first place. She kept her thoughts to herself though, like she always did.

After Ava was done admiring the new nails, you went to the coffee pot to jumpstart the day.

“Hey you,” Melissa’s voice was heard from beside you, the top half of her body turning to face you. She was smiling so softly, you almost missed it.

“Good morning, Melissa,” You smiled at her, making the coffee quickly so you could sit with her before the news started.

“And how are you doing this Wednesday?” She asked, her small smile growing as you joined her at the table.

You filled Melissa in on what you did yesterday, mentioned the nail salon, and your plans for the school day. She leaned back in her chair and listened intently before answering your same question.

The redhead beside you told you all about the dinner she made last night and the ridiculousness that ensued with Jacob trying to help, she mentioned what her kids were doing for the rest of the week, even asked about where the salon you went to was.

But she didn't say a thing about how your nails looked. At this point, you would even take an insult from her. It was so strange that the one thing she doesn't want to talk about or mention, is how you look.

It was becoming maddening, for once in your life making you question the things you were wearing and doing to yourself. Was it not good enough for Melissa? The thought terrified you, and you found yourself thinking about it more and more with each passing day.

The nails weren't enough, your clothes weren't doing it for her either, it was time to try something different. The thought of changing up your hair had crossed your mind quite a few times, and it was ready for something new anyways.

You made an appointment at the salon you've been visiting for a while now, and went on Saturday. Spending the whole day treating yourself, you felt relaxed and rejuvenated for the week to come.

The hair appointment went incredibly well, and you were more than happy with the results. Come Monday morning, everyone else seemed happy with the results too.

Before you could even make it to the break room, you were getting compliments left and right from familiar faces. That only increased when you saw your friends, of course. You opted to not mention getting your hair done, hoping it'll draw more of a reaction out of Melissa.

It doesn't. Once again, Melissa has nothing to share on the matter, just a simple statement. “You got your hair done,” She said before you could properly greet her.

“I did,” You replied, walking to the fridge and deciding to sit on the couch today. You missed how Melissa bore holes into your head when you walked away from her, but she missed how your eye practically twitched out of irritation.

This was driving you crazy, even more so because this has never happened before. You liked making yourself look good for you, not for the compliments from others. But now, you would give anything to hear something from Melissa.

It went from thinking about why she didn't say anything, to the things she did say, and before long, you found yourself constantly thinking of the woman. It felt like insanity, and something needed to change.

Sitting on your couch trying to think of anything except for Melissa, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone until it vibrated with a text from Janine.

Trying to get everyone to go to karaoke this weekend, you should totally come!

Smiling, you read her text a few times over while formulating an answer. If she was inviting everyone…would Melissa be there?

You ‘loved’ Janine’s message and replied telling her you'll be there, after spending way too much time overthinking it.

The weekend couldn't come soon enough, but it did eventually. Ever since Janine invited you, you were thinking about it. Once everyone started talking about it at work, it was easy to figure out who was going and who wasn't. Still, Melissa asked.

“You gonna be there tomorrow night?” She quietly asked, leaning into your space as the two of you sat on the small couch in the break room.

“Mhm, are you?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer. Then again, so did she.

“Yeah, I'll see you there then,” She smirked before sitting normally again, leaning back into the cushions but still very close to you.

Melissa’s eyes shifted to the tv playing, but yours stayed on her for a moment longer, lost in thought. It was impossible to figure out how the redhead felt about you, thought about you. Everything she said and did just left you more confused.

Eventually you started watching the tv as well, but every few moments your eyes would flick over to the woman beside you, as she ever so slightly leaned against your arm.

Janine, somehow incredibly happy this early in the morning, made her way to the front of the room to talk about the weekend plans.

You missed pretty much everything she said though, because Melissa shifted to look at Janine and was practically laying on you now, her shoulder and back pressed against your arm and side.

“I'm not surprised Erika is gonna be there, I wonder if Simon will be too,” Melissa muttered under her breath to you without looking over. That must've been what Janine was talking about.

“I hope not,” You smirk, leaning a bit closer to Melissa so she can hear. She chuckles, and suddenly relaxed a lot more against your side, her body completely at ease.

It was so hard to focus on the things and people around you. Melissa has never acted this way before, so casual and borderline affectionate. She wasn't entirely closed off to you either, but this was different.

Thankfully, it was time for everyone to go to their classrooms and you were relieved from your position beside underneath the redhead. Sitting on the couch for a second, you took a moment alone to clear your head before starting the rest of the day.

Luckily, the work/school day went off without a hitch, everyone eager to start the weekend. While trying to wrap up some loose ends in the classroom, your mind was clouded with thoughts of tomorrow night and of course, Melissa.

It wasn't entirely clear what was going between the two of you, but you knew something was up. As if she could feel your thoughts about her, Melissa appeared at your doorway.

“Hey hon, you getting out of here soon?” She called to you, her voice immediately catching your attention. It was clear she was leaving, her bag hastily thrown over her shoulder and her sunglasses already on top of that beautiful head of hair.

“Mm, sometime soon, yeah. Having a hard time focusing so maybe I'll just call it,” You tell Melissa honestly, turning your chair to face her.

“Yeah? Maybe you do need a break. Go home and rest up, gonna be a long night tomorrow,” She smiled and threw you a wink before making her exit.

Shaking your head and smiling with amusement, you let out a sigh. Incredible how quickly Melissa could make you feel this way.

The Italian made you feel a lot of things lately, she was always on your mind, and as much as it was a good thing, it was also frustrating to try and figure out what exactly Melissa is feeling.

She was right, though. Karaoke was definitely going to be a long night, and tucking in early seemed like the best idea.

All day on Saturday you were going back and forth—between different outfits, accessories, whether or not you were going to participate in karaoke, it was exhausting.

Before 5 pm you had already had three cups of coffee, before switching to water eventually. Sighing, you set the last cup down on the dresser as you looked around at the many different clothing items that were now scattered.

Never, ever have you spent so long overthinking what to wear. Just before giving up and taking another break, something caught your eye.

A black miniskirt, one that you haven't worn in a while. Immediately, you started grabbing other pieces to throw together what you hope will finally get Melissa talking.

Walking into the karaoke lounge, you felt on top of the world in the miniskirt and stockings, and the eyes on you everywhere only fueled that fire.

Janine and Jacob immediately hyped you up with excitement, talking after each other so quickly it sounded like one long sentence.

“I'm so glad you came!” The shorter teacher exclaimed, happy to have all her friends around.

“Me too, thanks for inviting me,” You told her with a smile. As Janine and Jacob got caught up talking about the songs for tonight, your eyes moved across the room until they landed on exactly who you were looking for.

Melissa sat at a table, beer in hand, already looking at you from across the room. She smirked as soon as your eyes met, and she waved you over.

The redhead didn't even try to hide how she looked you up and down multiple times, her eyes staying longer in places that shouldn't be.

You couldn't help the smile that grew the closer you got to Melissa. If you looked good, she looked perfect.

“Hi,” you sweetly said, returning her wave from earlier.

“Hey…” Her voice was low as she once again took in every aspect of you. “You, uh, you singing tonight?” She cleared her throat before taking a rather large sip from her drink.

Just when you thought she was finally going to say something, she didn't. Despite her hungry eyes and clear adoration, she didn't say a word about how you looked.

The frustration and confusion showed on your face for a second before you corrected it. With a deep breath, you answered her question.

“No, don't think so. Where's the bar?” Your tone was sharper than you intended, which surprised the both of you.

Melissa pointed in the direction of the bar you were asking about, and couldn't get rid of her furrowed brows even after you walked away.

It was just annoying at this point, it felt like Melissa was going out of her way not to compliment you. How is it that so many people want your attention, but the one person you want won't give it?

Getting more and more irritated by the second, you quickly ordered a drink, muttering to make it strong to the bartender. You needed a distraction now.

Luckily for you, a woman at the bar nearby noticed your mood and slowly came over, introducing herself and sitting beside you.

She was pretty, very pretty, actually, and you didn't miss how she kept her knee pushed against yours after settling on the barstool.

The both of you were no doubt flirting, and so wrapped up in her and your drink, you didn't see how Melissa was watching the whole thing with so much anger in her eyes, it's a surprise you didn't feel it.

After ordering a second drink, you decided to go back to your friends, but not before the other bar guest could slip you her number.

“Got a new friend?” Jacob teased, smiling like a teenager.

“Maybe,” You answered slyly, sipping on your drink as you turned to watch Mr. Johnson perform his heart out while Janine had the time of her life in the front row.

You couldn't help but laugh at the scene in front of you and instinctively turned to look at Melissa to see if she was too. Except she was anything but amused.

Her arms were crossed, her leg was shaking. You knew that body language, and it certainly wasn't good.

Carefully, to not draw attention away from your friends on stage, you made your way over to Melissa.

Green eyes glared at you once Melissa noticed you in her bubble and she shifted her gaze away, ignoring your presence.

“Hey, you good?” You asked gently, unaware that you were the issue.

“Why do you care? Don't you have somebody else to worry about?” Melissa spat out, gesturing her head towards the bar.

“Outside.” You told her firmly before swiftly walking out of the room and exiting the lounge.

Melissa rolled her eyes, but waited a few seconds and followed you to the back of the building.

“What?” She asked once she made it out there, her voice full of attitude.

“Don't ‘what’ me, what the hell was that?” Answering her question with a question, you took a step closer to her.

Melissa didn't respond, instead she sighed and rubbed her temples. You were so confused and getting angry, not understanding why she was acting this way.

“You're mad because I was flirting with someone at the bar? She liked my outfit and complimented me, something you have yet to do the entire time I've known you.”

Again, Melissa just stood there. You threw your arms in disbelief and scoffed.

“I don't get it, Melissa. How are you going to get that upset but not even say you like my damn skirt? Why won't you-”

“Because-” Melissa’s voice finally was heard, her exasperated tone interrupting you.

You stopped, and waited for her to continue. Her eyes ran up and down your figure once again.

“Because the things I have to say about how you look are not very appropriate,” Melissa said lowly, taking a step closer to you now before meeting your gaze.

Her hands gripped your hips tightly, possessively. She wasn't letting you go anywhere now. “I can't compliment you in front of everyone because I don't think they need to hear about you look delicious,” She continued, groaning the last word in your ear.

Stunned and flustered, you had nothing to say. Just stuttering a jumble of words trying to put together a sentence.

Melissa smiled at your reaction and spoke once more.

“You wanna hear me say you're pretty, huh? That I think you look irresistible every time I see you…How badly I want to put my hands all over you…”

Warmth erupted in your stomach hearing the older woman go on and on about what she thought of you. You let out a shaky breath and leaned back onto the fence behind you, although it didn't put much space between the two of you.

“Yeah, I do,” You responded confidently, looking deep into her eyes as you did so, before they fell to her lips for a split second.

Melissa noticed, and she couldn't stop the smug expression before leaning in and kissing you. Her lips were soft but she was so needy, one of her hands going to your jaw while the other pulled you against her.

“You look so good tonight, baby…Did you wear this skirt for me? Hm?” She said between kisses, making her way down the skin of your neck.

“Yes-” You breathed out before you could stop yourself.

She chuckled against your skin and kissed her way back up to your lips, crashing into you with so much passion you couldn't help but whine against her.

“Let me take you home and show you how beautiful I think you are,” Her voice was strained, unable to hold back for much longer.

“Please,” You told her, kissing her one more time. She smiled against your lips, happy to finally have you how she's wanted this whole time.

As she walked back inside, you let the cool air calm you down a bit, head and heart racing from how hungry the redhead was. No wonder Melissa never said a word.

[olderwomenenthusiast]

finally getting her attention (melissa schemmenti)

PAIRING: melissa schemmenti & fem reader DESCRIPTION: you really want melissa to pay attention to you CAUTION: strap-on sex, face fucking, spitting, fake cum, breeding kink if you squint WORD COUNT: 3.8k AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read & please, i need melissa so bad MASTERLIST

Melissa is at her desk, red pen tapping absently against a stack of papers, eyes flicking between the grading rubric and the essays before her. She’s been at it for hours, laser-focused, while you’ve been left to your own devices; restless, needy, and growing increasingly frustrated.

At first, you tried being patient. You curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, sighing dramatically every now and then, hoping she’d take the hint. Nothing.

Next, you got bolder - walking over to her desk, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple, nuzzling against her in that way you know makes her weak. She hummed in acknowledgment, but that was it. A brief flick of her eyes to you before she went right back to grading.

Fine. If soft wasn’t working, maybe bratty would.

You draped yourself over the arm of the couch, stretching with an exaggerated whimper. Then you shifted, positioning yourself on all fours, pushing your ass up ever so slightly as you arched your back. A not-so-innocent little moan escaped your lips, just to see if she’d look.

Nothing.

You huffed, then got up and walked into the kitchen. If teasing wasn’t enough, maybe distracting her with something tangible would be. You grabbed a popsicle from the freezer, unwrapped it, and walked right back to her desk, sucking on it obscenely.

This time, you saw her shoulders stiffen. She didn’t look up, but she wasn’t unaffected, either.

So you took it a step further, licking the length of it before moaning softly. “Mmm. So good.”

Melissa inhaled sharply through her nose but still didn’t acknowledge you.

Alright. If she wanted to play this game, you’d win it.

You abandoned the popsicle in the sink and walked over to her again, running your fingers over her shoulders, down the line of her arm, before dipping beneath her desk. You knelt between her legs, resting your chin on her thigh. “Melissa…” you purred, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

She exhaled sharply, finally looking down at you. “You’re bein’ a real pain in my ass, sweetheart,” she murmured, but there was heat in her gaze now, her pupils dilated just enough to tell you she was starting to crack.

You smirked. “Wouldn’t be a problem if you just fucked me already.”

Melissa chuckled lowly, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair, watching you. “You that desperate, huh?”

Instead of answering, you rose to your feet, standing in front of her. Maintaining eye contact, you reached for the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Your shorts followed, along with your underwear, until you stood before her, completely bare.

She let out a slow breath, her jaw tightening as she took you in.

You climbed onto her desk, deliberately pushing aside her papers as you leaned back on your elbows, parting your thighs to reveal just how soaked you were. “See what you do to me?” you whispered, dragging a teasing finger along your inner thigh before brushing it lightly over your slick folds. “Been wet all day, waiting for you.”

Melissa groaned, rolling her chair back abruptly as she stood, rolling up her sleeves. “Alright, enough,” she muttered, voice thick with desire. “You want my attention? You’ve got it.”

She walked over to the dresser, opening the drawer where she kept the strap-on - the one she’d bought specifically because it had a feature you couldn’t stop obsessing over: a fake cum-filled reservoir, designed to fill you up exactly how you craved.

You swallowed hard, watching her fasten the harness, adjusting the straps with practiced ease.

Melissa smirked as she met your gaze again. “On the bed. Now.”

You obeyed immediately, scrambling back toward the mattress as anticipation coiled in your stomach.

She followed, crawling over you, her hands gripping your thighs as she spread them wider. Her breath was warm against your neck as she murmured, “You wanted to be fucked senseless, didn’t you?”

You nodded breathlessly.

Melissa smirked, positioning the tip of the strap against your entrance, teasing you with it.

“Hope you’re ready, sweetheart,” she murmured, voice dripping with promise. “Because I’m gonna give you exactly what you begged for.”

Melissa presses the thick tip of the strap against your entrance, just barely nudging it forward before pulling back, teasing you with slow drags over your soaked folds. You whine, hips bucking up, desperate for more friction, but she tuts, shaking her head.

“So impatient,” she murmurs, dragging a hand up your thigh before gripping it firmly, keeping you still beneath her. “You spent all that time begging, and now you don’t even have the patience to take what I give you?”

You whimper, gripping the sheets beneath you, knowing better than to answer. She cocks her head, waiting, and when you don’t argue, she smirks. “Good girl.”

Then, without breaking eye contact, Melissa leans down and spits directly onto your clit.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips, your thighs twitching as the wet warmth spreads over your sensitive flesh. She uses two fingers to spread it, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit before trailing down to coat your already-drenched entrance.

“Look at this mess,” she muses, slipping two fingers through the slickness, teasing your hole without pushing inside. “So wet for me.”

You let out a frustrated whine, your hips shifting involuntarily, but her grip on your thigh tightens. “What do you want, sweetheart?” she asks, voice thick with amusement as she continues rubbing her spit over your needy, aching pussy.

“You,” you breathe out, voice shaking. “Please, Melissa.”

Melissa hums in approval, dragging the head of the strap through your slick folds one last time before lining it up with your entrance. “That’s more like it.”

And then she thrusts inside.

The stretch is delicious, your walls clenching around the thick silicone as she fills you in one smooth motion. Your back arches off the bed, a broken moan escaping your lips as Melissa presses forward, bottoming out with a deep groan of her own.

“Fuck,” she hisses, watching the way your body takes her. “So tight - look at you.”

Your fingers scramble for purchase, gripping at her arms, her shoulders, anything to ground yourself. She doesn’t move at first, just holding you open, letting you feel every inch of her.

Then, she pulls back, slowly and deliberately before slamming back in.

Your breath stutters, a choked gasp spilling from your lips as she sets a brutal rhythm, fucking into you with deep, punishing thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, slick and obscene, mixed with the desperate moans spilling from your lips.

Melissa watches you with dark, hungry eyes, reveling in the way you unravel beneath her. “This what you wanted?” she pants, her grip bruising on your thighs as she pounds into you.

“Yes—yes, please—”

She leans down, one hand bracing beside your head, the other slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles over your swollen, needy clit. “Gonna make you cum so hard, sweetheart,” she growls, her voice wrecked. “Then I’m gonna fill you up - fuck you full of my cum, just like you need.”

The promise sends you spiraling, heat coiling dangerously in your stomach as your body trembles beneath her. “Melissa...” you sob, teetering on the edge, gripping her shoulders as she fucks you harder, faster, her thrusts deep and unforgiving.

“That’s it,” she grits out, relentless as she works you toward your peak. “Cum for me.”

And with a final thrust, the coil inside you snaps.

Your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot and all-consuming, your body tightening around her as you cry out, pleasure overwhelming every nerve. Melissa groans, grinding into you through your release, her own breathing ragged as she presses in as deep as she can.

Then, with a sharp thrust, she presses a button on the base of the strap, and warmth floods inside you.

The sensation sends another shudder through you, your overstimulated body trembling as you whimper at the feeling of being filled. Melissa groans, watching with heated fascination as the fake cum leaks out around where she’s still buried inside you.

“Fuck,” she breathes, smoothing a hand over your trembling thigh. “Made such a mess.”

She finally stills, leaning down to kiss along your jaw, her breath warm against your skin. “You good, sweetheart?” she murmurs, her voice softer now, laced with something almost tender.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath, and she chuckles, nuzzling against you before pulling out slowly, murmuring praises as she soothes over your spent body.

“You did so good,” she whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before trailing lower, her lips brushing over your collarbone. “So fucking good for me.”

And as she slips her fingers between your thighs, collecting the mess she made, you realize you’re far from done for the night.

Melissa smirks as she brings her fingers to your lips, her touch firm but teasing. “Clean them, baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t hesitate, parting your lips eagerly, sucking her fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them as you moan softly. You taste yourself on her skin, and it only makes the fire inside you burn hotter.

She watches you with dark, hooded eyes, her free hand smoothing over your jaw before tightening slightly, holding you still. “That’s it. Such a messy little thing, but you love it, don’t you?”

You nod, eyes glazed over with hunger, sucking harder, desperate for any part of her you can get. But then, just as suddenly as she gave them to you, she pulls her fingers away.

You whine, hips shifting restlessly, the loss unbearable. “Lissaaa—” your voice breaks, high and needy, your thighs rubbing together in desperation. “More. Please. Need more.”

Melissa tilts her head, amused by your wrecked state. “More, huh?”

You nod frantically, your hands already drifting between your legs, fingers sliding over your soaked folds, searching for relief. But before you can give yourself what you need, Melissa catches your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“No.” Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. “You don’t get to touch.”

A desperate sob spills from your lips. “Please --”

She just smirks, shifting above you, her knee pressing between your thighs, giving you just a hint of friction but not enough. “You wanna be used that bad, sweetheart?”

“Yesfuckyesplease, Liss—” You’re practically vibrating with need, your body aching for her. “Use me. Fuck my face. Just - please!!”

Melissa groans at your desperation, her grip tightening around your wrists for a moment before she lets go, standing beside the bed. You watch with wide, eager eyes as she undoes the harness, adjusting it so the strap juts forward, perfectly positioned for what you’ve begged for.

“On your knees,” she orders.

You scramble to obey, slipping off the bed and sinking onto the floor between her legs, your hands instinctively resting on her thighs as you look up at her with pleading, desperate eyes.

Melissa runs her fingers through your hair, tugging slightly, guiding you closer. “Open that pretty mouth for me.”

You obey instantly, lips parting as you stare up at her, pupils blown wide with pure need. She taps the tip of the strap against your tongue before sliding it in, slow and deliberate, watching the way your lips stretch around it.

“Fuck, that’s a sight,” she murmurs, her voice thick with arousal.

You moan around her, your own hands creeping down between your legs again, but Melissa sees. She clicks her tongue, grabbing your wrists once more.

“What did I say?”

You whimper in frustration, thighs clenching together, desperate beyond reason.

Melissa chuckles darkly. “Guess I’ll just have to keep your hands busy another way.”

She grabs your hair, tightening her grip before thrusting deeper, setting a slow but deliberate rhythm as she fucks your mouth, watching as you take her, drool spilling down your chin, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Look at you,” she breathes, voice filled with heat. “So fucking desperate to be used.”

You moan around her, letting her control you, willing to do anything if it means she’ll finally let you come.

And judging by the way her grip tightens and her thrusts get rougher, you’re getting exactly what you begged for.

Melissa groans low in her throat as she watches you, your mouth stretched wide around the thick strap, lips swollen and slick with spit. Your hands grip her thighs for balance, nails digging in slightly as she thrusts deep, the tip nudging the back of your throat.

“Fuck, just like that,” she pants, her fingers tightening in your hair, holding you still as she rocks forward, slow but deliberate, letting you feel every inch as she fucks your mouth.

You moan around her, your throat constricting as you take her deeper, your own arousal dripping down your thighs. Every thrust sends another wave of need crashing over you, your body trembling with the effort of staying still, of being good for her.

Melissa’s breathing grows heavier, her hips moving faster, her own pleasure building as the harness rubs against her clit with each thrust. “Shit.. so fucking good for me baby.”

You whimper in response, your throat flexing around the strap as you hollow your cheeks, desperate to push her over the edge. You can see it in the way her jaw clenches, her grip tightening in your hair, the way her muscles tense.

Then, with a deep, shuddering breath, she presses in as far as she can, holding you there.

“Takeitfuck...”

And then warmth floods your mouth.

The artificial release fills your throat, thick and hot, just like she knew you wanted. The sensation makes your body jolt, another needy whimper vibrating around her as you swallow greedily, taking every drop.

Melissa curses under her breath, watching you with dark, hooded eyes, her chest heaving. “God, look at you,” she murmurs, running a thumb over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had slipped free. “Such a needy little thing, drinking it all up.”

You nod weakly, still licking at the tip of the strap, not wanting to let go. But then she lets out a sharp breath, her hips jerking slightly and that’s when you realize.

She’s still grinding against the harness, her clit catching against the base with every tiny movement. Her body is tense, her thighs clenching around you, the pleasure mounting rapidly.

A slow, desperate smirk curls your lips.

“Liss,” you whisper, voice hoarse from how thoroughly she’s used your throat. “You gonna cum for me?”

Melissa exhales sharply, her hands flying to your shoulders as her rhythm stutters, the pressure of the harness hitting just right.

“Fuck—”

Then her body seizes, her thighs trembling as a sharp, wrecked moan tears from her lips. She grinds down hard, riding out her orgasm, her grip bruising on your skin as she comes apart above you.

You watch her, dazed and mesmerized, utterly in awe of the way she falls apart - because of you.

Finally, she sags slightly, her breathing heavy as she blinks down at you, still on your knees, lips parted, eyes wide and eager.

Melissa chuckles, shaking her head as she cups your jaw, tilting your face up to hers. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” she murmurs, her voice still thick with pleasure.

You grin, pressing a kiss to her fingers, your eyes shining with unrelenting hunger.

“I can think of a few things.”

Melissa lets out a satisfied sigh, her fingers lazily running through your hair before she steps back, reaching for the buttons of her blouse. Your breath catches as she slowly undoes them, one by one, revealing more of her toned stomach, the swell of her breasts beneath her bra.

She doesn’t rush - she knows exactly what she’s doing to you, how desperate you already are. She peels the fabric off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor before reaching behind her to unclasp her bra.

And then, finally, it’s gone.

Your eyes drink her in, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you admire the way her skin glows in the dim light, the way her muscles shift subtly as she moves. No matter how many times you’ve seen her like this, she still leaves you utterly mesmerized.

“Baby,” you breathe, voice laced with awe, your fingers itching to touch.

Melissa smirks, amused by your reaction, but before she can say anything, you move.

You stand abruptly, closing the space between you in an instant, your hands finding her waist as you tug her against you. She lets out a surprised laugh, her arms looping around your neck, but the movement throws you both off balance, and before you know it --

You tumble onto the bed, tangled together, giggling against each other’s skin.

“Baby!” Melissa exclaims, laughing as she lands half on top of you, her weight warm and comforting.

You can’t stop giggling, your fingers trailing up her back, holding her close. “Oops,” you say, breathless, your grin wide. “Guess I got a little too excited.”

Melissa lifts her head, her eyes shining with amusement and something deeper, something darker beneath the playful surface. “Yeah?” she murmurs, shifting her hips ever so slightly against yours, making you gasp. “Still excited, sweetheart?”

Your laughter fades into a needy whimper, your body instantly responding to her. “Yes,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around her waist, keeping her close. “Always.”

Melissa’s smirk returns, her fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down your side. “Good,” she murmurs, leaning in until her lips just barely ghost over yours. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Then she kisses you - deep and slow, her tongue sweeping into your mouth, stealing your breath, making you dizzy with want.

And just like that, the heat between you flares back to life, burning hotter than ever.

Melissa gasps as you flip the two of you, pressing her down onto the mattress, your body draped over hers. Your lips move instantly to her chest, your mouth latching onto one of her perfect, soft breasts.

“Fuck—” she hisses, her fingers threading through your hair as you swirl your tongue around her nipple, teasing, before sucking it into your mouth. Her back arches instinctively, pressing closer, and you hum in satisfaction, flicking your tongue over the sensitive bud before dragging your teeth over it lightly.

Her breathing turns shaky, her nails digging into your scalp as you switch, giving the other nipple the same attention, your hand twisting and tugging the one now slick from your mouth. The sharp little gasps she lets out send a pulse of arousal straight to your core, making you grind subtly against her thigh, but you don’t linger.

You have a destination in mind.

You kiss your way down her body, savoring the way she twitches beneath your touch, the way her stomach flexes as your lips ghost over her heated skin.

“Baby,” she breathes, voice thick with anticipation as you settle between her thighs, your hands pushing them apart.

You groan at the sight of her - already soaked, her arousal glistening, waiting for you.

“Fuck, Liss,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh before looking up at her with a teasing smirk. “So wet for me already.”

She exhales sharply, her hips shifting impatiently. “Don’t tease,” she warns, but there’s no real threat in her voice - just need.

You grin, then finally give her what she wants.

Your mouth latches onto her clit, sucking it into your mouth as your fingers tease at her entrance, gathering her slick before slowly pushing inside.

Melissa chokes on a gasp, her head falling back against the pillows as pleasure jolts through her.

“JesusfuckingChristfuck...”

You hum against her, the vibration making her thighs twitch. You start slow, dragging your tongue over her swollen clit in deliberate, teasing strokes, matching the rhythm of your fingers as you curl them inside her, searching for that spot that makes her fall apart.

Her breathing turns ragged, her hips rocking against your mouth, desperate for more. You give it to her, sucking harder, flicking your tongue just the way you know she loves, your fingers thrusting deep and firm.

Melissa’s moans grow louder, her grip on your hair tightening as her body tenses beneath you. “Fuck - yes, just like that...”

You moan in response, the sound muffled against her, and the sensation sends a violent shudder through her.

“Shitbaby, I’m --”

Her thighs clamp around your head as she tumbles over the edge, her whole body trembling, her moan breaking into a wrecked sob as she comes hard against your tongue.

You don’t stop.

Not until she’s gasping, pushing weakly at your head, her body twitching with overstimulation.

Only then do you pull away, your lips slick with her arousal, your fingers still lazily tracing her inner thigh as you look up at her with a smug little smile.

Melissa blinks down at you, still trying to catch her breath, her eyes dark and dazed.

“Come here,” she rasps, her voice still wrecked.

Melissa pulls you up toward her, her hands gentle as she cups your face, brushing your hair back from your forehead. She kisses you softly, her lips lingering against yours in a slow, tender embrace. The heat of the moment begins to dissipate, replaced by a quiet warmth between the two of you.

“Good girl,” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with pride. “You did so well.”

You nod, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all, but the safety and tenderness in her touch instantly put you at ease. She runs her fingers through your hair, soothing the edges of your anxiety as her other hand strokes down your side, her touch light and comforting.

Melissa shifts, pulling you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest. Her heartbeat is steady, a rhythmic sound that grounds you as you relax into her warmth. She presses gentle kisses to your forehead, each one a reassurance.

“You okay?” she murmurs, her voice soft with concern as she holds you close.

You nod again, letting out a small sigh of relief, the rush of emotions calming as you settle into her embrace. “Yeah… just needed that.”

Melissa smiles, her hand smoothing down your back, pressing you closer. “I know, baby. I’ve got you. We can take all the time you need.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself relax completely in her arms. The moment is peaceful, and as she continues to rub your back and kiss your skin, you feel yourself drifting into a safe, contented space.

She doesn’t let go - she holds you, keeping you close as you both slowly breathe in sync, knowing that the intensity of the evening has passed, but the connection between you remains. The care, the softness, the aftercare - it’s what really makes the night memorable.

[writerspirit]

Chapter I

Pairing(s): Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader

Series: Schemmenti Family Agenda

Synopsis: After a student makes a comment to Y/n, Melissa takes into consideration what the next steps in your relationship should be.

Themes/Warnings: Fluff, Angst (please let me know if there are any warnings to be aware of)

A/N: I first wrote this part in an early morning surge of energy. I've already started on part two, so be on the lookout for that. I've also started an outline for an Agatha Harkness/Agnes x Fem!Reader w/ "magic baby" trope.

WC: ~ 2.15k

Having kids wasn’t something you thought to ever be on the agenda. It never was with you and Melissa. Both you and her being elementary teachers for Abbott, the only kids you two ever talked about “having” were your students. It has been a nice flow between you professionally. You being the other first grade teacher in the school, a good amount of kids in your class progress to your wife’s classroom in their following school year. These handful of kids are called by the other teachers as the “Double Schemmenti” kids, which you and Melissa find endearing.

These little aspects of your life at Abbott make being a teacher for these kids the best job anyone could ask for. Not to mention having the role of being these kids’ mentor, even sometimes their parent, is a gift in itself. So, whenever babies were a thought, it was more of a subtle whisper, rather than a thought-provoking idea.

That is until Melissa walks into your classroom after school one day to find you with one of your students playing with the deck of cards she so graciously lent for the room. 

“Hey, honey,” she smiles, making her way inside.

“Mrs. Schemmenti!” Aspen squeals. “Mrs. Schemmenti is teaching me how to play Kings in the Corner. It helps with my counting.”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” The redhead looks over at his hand and smiles. “Maybe next year you’ll be able to get a good grasp on poker so that you can beat all the chumps at the table.”

Aspen gives her a quizzical look. You, a furrow of the eyebrows, telling her to test the waters. She mouths a ‘sorry’ along with a low smile. Bringing her attention to your cards, she chuckles. “I don’t know, Mrs. Schemmenti. I think the kid’s hand is just enough to rattle you outta luck.”

Aspen’s smile turns to a little dance in place, in anticipation for his next move. 

You bring yourself to feign a sigh. “I think you might be right. I just can’t believe Aspen is so good already, and it’s his first time playing.”

Melissa shuffles back next to Aspen, who glances at her before she nods. “Take her down, kid.”

He rushes for a card before calculating his line of moves to play. With what seems to be one swift motion, his cards disappear from his hand and onto the floor with the others. “I got ya, Mrs. Schemmenti! Victory is mine!”

You giggle along with him. “You got me!” You and Melissa dance with him, doing your own little dances in place. Once he’s seemed to settle down from his victory dance, you help him pick up the cards.

“Why don’t you practice your shuffling while I talk with Mrs. Schemmenti?”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll go sit at my desk.”

“Okay.”

“He’s a quick little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. Smartest kid in the class. Maybe the smartest I’ve ever taught.” You peek at him, seeing if he’s focused on the cards in his hand, which he is. “His mom is working a little late today. The divorce hasn’t been easy for either of them, so I told her that I can stay with Aspen a little later than the allotted time for pickup.”

Melissa sighs. “Don’t I know it. Divorce is tough. I can’t imagine the added stress of having a child during the process.”

You quickly take a look at your watch. “You don’t have to wait up for me. Janine and Ava have step practice today, and I’m sure I can catch a ride with one of them if you want to go home. I know you have grading to get done.”

“I can wait here with you and the little guy. Grading can wait a little longer, and besides, I don’t want you catching a ride with either of ‘em as long as I’m here. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I’d been responsible for another Janine car ride migraine.” Her lips perk up into a smile.

"I swear if I hear another lecture on the benefits of different colored highlighters, I’ll–"

“Mom!” Aspen squeals, getting out of his seat and running to his mother’s arms. She lays a soft kiss on his head.

“Hi, Aspen. How was school?” Dina’s eyes turn from his to yours. “Was he okay?”

You nod. “The little champ beat me in Kings in the Corner.”

“And I know how to shuffle now. So now I can help you when we play Uno.”

“Great job, honey. And I’m sure now you can help me beat Grandpa when he comes to visit next week.”

Aspen seemingly lights up brighter than before. “Grandpa’s coming? Yay!” He envelops her in a hug.

“Honey, why don’t you grab your things so I can talk to your mom?” Your eyes quickly glance at his belongings that sit on and around his desk. 

“I’ll give you two a minute.” Melissa moves towards Aspen. “I’ll help him get his things.”

“Thank you for everything. Really, you’re a lifesaver.” Dina lets a sigh leave her lips. “He’s really been doing great through this whole thing.”

“No disruptions, no problems. I wish I had his positive attitude all the time. And hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind getting beat at cards. He’s a smart kid.”

Dina smiles.

“I’m ready,” Aspen says. He walks up to meet his mother’s side, where she places a hand on his shoulder. “Mrs. Schemmenti?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You’re gonna make a great mom one day,” his smile widens before he says his goodbyes to you and Melissa. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, kid. We’ll see ya,” Melissa adds. She turns to you. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” you grab your bag’s handle, but it’s quickly taken away from you when the older woman grabs it. “Melissa, I can carry my stuff.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” She smiles as you grab hold of her arm.

Walking out of Abbott, you both send smiles and your own goodbyes to a few colleagues. Your hand never strays from her arm, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So what are you feeling like for dinner?” She asks.

“Are you asking because you feel like cooking, or are you asking me because you want to just order takeout?”

She chuckles. “I was actually asking because I could go for anything you wanted to cook.”

“Enchiladas, then.”

“Well, they’re your signature.” She places a kiss on your temple.

When you reach the car, she walks with you to the passenger’s side, opening the door for you. “My lady,” she smiles watching you take your seat. She hands you your bag, and closes the door.

You reach over to the door and pull the door handle for her. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Anything for my girl,” you say. Her hand instinctively rests on your thigh as she starts the drive to your shared home. You move a hand to graze her arm.

“So,” Melissa starts up a new conversation when you hit upon a red light. “Aspen gave you a really nice compliment there, huh?”

“What?” You take a moment to think back. “Oh… yeah, he’s a really sweet kid. I hope you get to teach him next year. I mean he already loves you.”

Melissa turns the music up a bit, as your favorite song plays. While you’re jamming, she hums along, singing the words in her head. Unbeknownst to you, Melissa is thinking harder than she’d care to admit to about Aspen’s words. Had you given any thought to having a child of your own? She hasn’t expressed any interest in having a mini Melissa since she was younger, when her sister had her first baby.

As if the memory played out word for word, she remembers how crushed she was when, while holding her then baby nephew, Joe completely shut down the idea of growing their family. 

As if you know she needs a distraction of sorts, you speak up, taking her out of her thoughts. “Oh, honey, I think we need to stop at the grocery store. Is that okay with you?”

She nods and forces a smile for you.

– – – –

Melissa’s hand never leaves the small of your back while you push the cart. Along the journey of getting the ingredients necessary for your dinner, she looks around every aisle that you walk through. Almost finished with the aisle you two are currently in, you start your way towards the registers. As you wait in one of the lines, Melissa picks up bits of the couple’s conversation happening in front of her, talking about their excitement in welcoming their own bundle of joy in seven months. 

“Melissa?”

“Hm,” she turns her attention towards you.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been almost quiet since we left school. The only times I ever experience quiet Melissa is when you’re scheming. Well, that or you’re planning someone’s meeting with justice.”

“I’m fine, hon.” She places her hands on either side of your waist, and places a few light kisses on your temple. “I’m perfect.”

– – – –

“Amore,” she starts.

“Hm,” you hum, sipping your wine.

“Nothin’.”

“Baby,” you reach your hand and place it gently on her own. “What’s up?”

She has a glint in her eyes. One you’ve only seen two other times – when she was too nervous to ask you to be her girlfriend, and then again when she asked you to be her wife. By this, you know she has got something big on her mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, her voice not leaving a low tone. She focuses her attention on her plate, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Okay…” you start. “But I will. You have the look.”

“What look?” Her eyes bounce to you, now wide, awaiting your response.

“You’ve only ever looked at me twice like that before, and both times they were because you had something big to get off your chest. Now please…” You place your hand on her thigh. “What is it, Melissa?”

“You ever thought about maybe… I don’t know… it’s just us here. And sometimes I feel it. The… space.”

You stay silent, trying to piece together what she’s going on about. Was she getting sick of you? Was this marriage too much for her? She doesn’t skip a beat though. Her rambling is starting to sound like she is convincing herself of something, in hopes you’ll say what’s bothering her, so she doesn’t have to. That’s when in the midst of your spacing out, there is only one sentence that makes you freeze.

“Maybe an addition to us wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“You want to have a baby,” she can’t tell by your tone if you were stating it as if it were a fact, or rather forming it in a question. “Like… a baby.”

“No, wait, I didn’t say that,” her voice rises in pitch. “Per say.”

You wait a minute, in case she has more to say. “Okay…”

Crap! May day! May day! Retreat! Her thoughts tell her.

She downs the beer that is left in her bottle. Her hands grab for your plates and starts her way to the kitchen. “Just forget I said anything.”

“But, Melissa–”

“Please, just forget it, Y/n.”

– – – –

After dinner, you and Melissa snuggle up on the couch. Your face is nestled in her neck, giving soft kisses where you know she loves them. This would usually lead to you ravaging each other until the sunrise spills through your curtains. Tonight, however, doesn’t look like that is in the cards for you.

Your hand begins drawing patterns on her thigh, as you continue your kisses on her skin. “Your thoughts are loud tonight, my love.”

“Hon,” Melissa whispers, her voice almost impossible to hear over the television. As if on cue, the Dancing With the Stars theme sings for you. “Look, the show is starting.”

The rest of the night is much quieter than usual. Adding to your worry, Melissa doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about the episode as she usually is. There’s no yelling at the television, rarely a chuckle, and not even a snack to go with the episode.

As the episode ends, Melissa breathes a heavy sigh. “Ready for bed?”

You take a look at your phone which reads the time. “Yeah,” you say with simple directions. “Just… give me a minute and I’ll be up.”

She nods as she rises off the couch. She makes sure to place a gentle kiss on your cheek before heading upstairs.

At the sound of Melissa ascending the stairs, you quickly grab your phone. Opening your Contacts app, Barbara Howard’s phone number is already in view for you. With a second to think on a decision, a sigh leaves your lips, and the clicking of the power button shuts the device off.

Sleep on it. Whatever it is.

[spicyschemmenti]

CROSSING THE LINE ➵ melissa schemmenti

pairing: melissa schemmenti x bimbo!teaching assistant!fem!reader

synopsis: after a day of teasing and tension, you and melissa finally give in to the undeniable pull between you. what starts as a heated, impulsive kiss quickly turns desperate, neither of you able to stop once you've started

warnings: teasing, flirting, they share a kiss

word count: 2.4k

MASTERLIST ---- JOIN A TAGLIST

Later that day, the halls of Abbott hummed with the usual end-of-day chaos; kids dragging their feet as they packed up, teachers corralling stragglers, the occasional sound of a locker slamming shut with unnecessary force. It was routine. Predictable.

Except nothing felt routine to Melissa right now.

Her mind was still caught up in the fire drill, in the way your body had molded against hers like you belonged there. In the way your voice had dripped with sugar and mischief, testing her resolve with every breathy whisper. In the way your fingers had brushed against her skin like a tease, a promise, a challenge.

And the worst part?

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Melissa prided herself on keeping things professional. On being the adult in the room. She wasn’t some starry-eyed idiot who got distracted by a pretty face—she was a grown-ass woman with years of experience dealing with people who thought they could get under her skin.

But you?

You were different.

Which is why, when the final bell rang and the last of the students filtered out, she was already on edge. And when she heard the click of your heels echoing down the hall, getting closer, she didn’t have to turn around to know it was you.

Of course, that didn’t stop you from making an entrance.

“Ms Schemmenti,” you purred, your voice just this side of playful as you leaned against her desk, tilting your head with an almost innocent expression. Almost.

Melissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before finally looking at you. Big mistake.

Your mini skirt had ridden up just enough to show off the curve of your thighs, your tank top clinging to every inch of soft skin beneath it, and that glossy smile of yours? Yeah, that was nothing short of lethal.

“Sweetheart, I swear to God…” Melissa muttered, shaking her head.

But you just giggled, nudging one of her pens with your fingertip like you had all the time in the world. “Swearing in front of the kids now?” you teased. “Tsk tsk, Ms Schemmenti. What would Barbara say?”

Melissa rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t ignore the way her pulse quickened when you said her name like that—low, teasing, like a secret you were sharing just between the two of you.

“The kids are gone,” she said, crossing her arms. “And so are you. It’s quittin’ time, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

You pouted. “Aww, what, you tryna get rid of me already?”

Yes.

No.

Hell.

Melissa exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through her hair before leveling you with a look. “Listen, I don’t know what kinda game you think you’re playin’, but—”

“Oh, I think you do,” you interrupted, smiling sweetly as you leaned in just enough that she could smell that damn perfume of yours again.

Melissa clenched her jaw. You were relentless.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice gruff.

You tilted your head, considering. “Hmm. I dunno. Maybe just… a little of your time?”

Melissa arched an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, do you need my time for?”

Your smile widened.

“Oh, I think we both know the answer to that.”

Jesus Christ.

Melissa swallowed hard, trying—failing—to keep her cool as you reached out, your fingers grazing the sleeve of her blouse, just barely there, like you were testing how much she’d let you get away with.

Spoiler alert: Too damn much.

“Y’know,” you murmured, your voice all honey and heat, “you never answered my question from earlier.”

Melissa blinked. “What question?”

Your lips curled into a smirk. “Is it working?”

Oh, you little—

Melissa exhaled sharply, stepping back, putting space between you before she did something she’d regret.

“I think you should go home,” she said, her voice rougher than she meant it to be.

Your smirk didn’t falter. In fact, if anything, you looked more amused. “Aww, did I fluster you, Ms Schemmenti?”

Melissa’s eye twitched. “I’m about five seconds away from sendin’ you home with a damn referral, sweetheart.”

You giggled, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Mmm. Kinda hot when you get all authoritative, y’know that?”

Melissa turned, gripping the edge of her desk so hard her knuckles went white.

Lord give me strength.

The silence stretched, heavy and charged, until finally, finally, Melissa heard you sigh dramatically behind her.

“Fine, fine,” you relented, pushing off the desk. “I’ll stop messing with you. For now.”

Melissa didn’t turn around, but she could hear the grin in your voice. Could feel the heat of your presence as you moved closer, just for a second, just long enough for your fingers to graze the small of her back.

“But I meant what I said,” you murmured, voice softer this time, almost sweet. “I like being close to you.”

And then, just like that, you were gone.

Melissa waited until the sound of your heels had completely faded before she let out a breath, her grip on the desk finally loosening.

She was so, so fucked.

Melissa sat at her desk long after you left, fingers still gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. The room was quiet now, just the soft hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of a few lingering teachers finishing up their work for the day. But in her head? It was chaos.

Because she could still feel you.

Still feel the ghost of your fingertips brushing against her sleeve, still feel the warmth of your body from earlier when you had pressed up against her like you belonged there, still feel the breathy lilt of your voice curling around her name like a slow drag of whiskey—hot, smooth, and a little bit dangerous. And the worst part? She wanted more.

Melissa was used to keeping a tight grip on her self-control. She had to—she was a professional, for Christ’s sake. She had been teaching for years, had dealt with her fair share of flirty coworkers, pushy parents, and God knows how many situations that could’ve ended badly if she didn’t know how to shut things down.

But you?

You weren’t like the others.

It wasn’t just the way you looked—though, Jesus, that didn’t help. That damn mini skirt hugging every curve, the way your tank top dipped low enough to make her swallow hard, the way your lips always seemed to be glossy and parted like you were just waiting for her to do something about it. No, it wasn’t just that. It was the way you moved. The way you spoke to her, always toeing the line between playful and something else. Something that made her pulse spike and her mouth go dry.

She wasn’t an idiot. She knew flirting when she saw it. And she sure as hell knew when someone was doing it on purpose.

And you? You were laying it on thick.

Melissa ran a hand down her face, exhaling slowly through her nose, trying to shake the heat that had been simmering low in her belly since this morning. But it was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw you—wide-eyed and teasing, pressing just close enough to make her wonder if you were going to push further.

And God help her, she wanted you to.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, sharp and undeniable.

She wanted you.

Not just in passing, not just in the way someone might admire a pretty thing and move on. No, it was worse than that. She wanted to know what you’d do if she stopped holding back, if she gave in, if she let that tension between you snap like a live wire.

Would you giggle, all breathy and mischievous, just to make her crazy? Would you play innocent, bat those big eyes up at her and act like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing? Or would you push her even further, press yourself against her like you had during the fire drill and murmur something soft and devastating against her ear, just to see her break?

Fuck.

Melissa squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe, forcing herself to think rationally. Because this? This was a problem.

A big fucking problem.

And she had no clue what to do about it.

The sun had dipped lower by the time she finally left her classroom, the hallways mostly empty now except for a few teachers lingering by their doors. She nodded at Barbara, who gave her one of those knowing looks that made her stomach twist. Melissa didn’t need to ask—she knew damn well that Barbara had caught onto something. The woman had a sixth sense for drama, and Melissa was not in the mood to be dissected right now.

“Long day?” Barbara asked, voice laced with something that was too close to amusement for Melissa’s comfort.

Melissa just grunted, shouldering her bag as she made her way toward the exit. “Somethin’ like that.”

Barbara hummed, but thankfully, she didn’t push. She just gave Melissa one last look before turning back to her own classroom, leaving Melissa to make her escape.

The air outside was crisp, a welcome contrast to the heat still simmering under her skin. She needed to cool off. She needed a drink. She needed a distraction—

And then she saw you.

Leaning against your car like you had all the time in the world, phone in hand, one leg crossed over the other, looking so goddamn effortless it was infuriating. The last of the day’s sunlight caught on the shine of your lip gloss, highlighting the curve of your mouth as you scrolled lazily through whatever was on your screen.

Melissa should’ve kept walking. She should’ve gotten in her car, gone home, poured herself a drink, and convinced herself that this was nothing.

But then, like you had some kind of radar for her, you glanced up—and the second your eyes met hers, that slow, lazy smile spread across your lips, and Melissa’s feet stopped moving.

“Fancy seein’ you here, Ms. Schemmenti,” you teased, slipping your phone into your bag as you pushed off your car.

Melissa’s pulse jumped.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay level. “You waitin’ for someone?”

You shrugged, all casual and innocent, even though she could see the mischief dancing in your eyes. “Not really. Just… takin’ my time.”

Melissa exhaled slowly, tilting her head. “And why’s that?”

You took a step closer, heels clicking softly against the pavement, your smile turning just a little smug—like you knew exactly why she was still standing there. Like you knew exactly how much of a mess she was trying to hide.

“I dunno,” you murmured, reaching up to toy with the strap of your bag, your nails lightly skimming over the fabric of your top. “Maybe I was hoping you’d come out here… and we could finish that conversation from earlier.”

Melissa swallowed.

It would’ve been so easy to walk away. To shut this down like she knew she should.

But when you took another step closer, looking up at her with those wide, knowing eyes, voice soft and full of something that made her stomach flip?

She wasn’t sure she could.

Melissa didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was you, stepping into her space like you belonged there. Maybe it was her, finally giving in to that pull that had been tugging at her all damn day. But suddenly, you were close.

So close that she could feel the heat radiating off you, could smell that sweet perfume that had been driving her crazy, could see the way your pupils had blown wide with something that made her head spin.

Her breath caught in her throat as your fingers brushed against the sleeve of her blouse, slow and deliberate. Just like earlier, just like before, like you were testing her, like you were waiting for her to break.

And fuck, she was so close to breaking.

“Melissa,” you murmured, her name soft and syrupy on your lips, like honey dripping slow from a spoon.

That was it. That was all it took.

A low curse tumbled from her lips as she grabbed your waist, fingers curling tight around the fabric of your tiny little skirt as she pulled you flush against her. Your breath hitched—just for a second, just enough for her to know that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as unaffected as you pretended to be.

And then her mouth was on yours.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was hungry, desperate, like something that had been caged for too long and was finally, finally set free.

Your lips parted beneath hers instantly, a little whimper slipping from your throat as you melted against her, your fingers sliding into her hair, nails scraping lightly against her scalp. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, had her grip tightening on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You tasted like mint and something sugary, something that made her dizzy, something that made her want more.

Melissa kissed you like she was starving, like she had spent the whole day trying to deny this and now that she had you, she was going to take her time. Her hands roamed, fingertips pressing into the soft curve of your hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin just beneath the hem of your top.

And you?

You were just as desperate.

You kissed her back like you had been waiting for this, like teasing her had been fun, but this? this was what you had wanted all along. Your body molded against hers, hips pressing into hers just enough to make her head spin, just enough to make her groan against your lips.

Fuck.

This was bad.

This was so bad.

But God, it felt so good.

Melissa barely had the mind to remember where you were, barely had the restraint to slow down. Because the way you were kissing her, the way your fingers were tangled in her hair, the way your body was pressed so perfectly against hers—it was wrecking her.

She broke away just long enough to breathe, just long enough to rest her forehead against yours, her hands still gripping your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, her voice rough, uneven.

You giggled, breathless, your fingers still toying with the short strands of hair at the nape of her neck. “Took you long enough.”

Melissa groaned, eyes fluttering shut as she exhaled sharply. “You’re trouble, y’know that?”

You smirked, leaning in, brushing your lips against hers—just barely, just enough to make her chase after you. “Mm. But you like it.”

Melissa let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking her head even as her grip on your hips tightened.

Yeah.

Yeah, she really fucking did.

tags:

@undercoverprentiss

@caseycabotsvu

@schemmentisimpasours

@colourfulbisexualities

@babyboyhotchner

@sapphicandgraphic

@divorcedcigarettes

@glorifiedagents

@bellatrixnnarcissa

[captain-yousoro]

These two being together in the final panel is making me absolutely delusional

[poppy5991]

Fuyumi: If a stranger tries to talk to you, what do you say?

Baby Shoto: Are you friends with my dad?

Fuyumi: Exactly. Remember why?

Baby Shoto: If they say yes, they’re a suspicious person because Dad doesn’t have any friends!!!

[honeysorwell]

all of it (all of you) 

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader

Prompt by anon + Idea for reader's nationality by anon

Synopsis: After more than 10 years with the same hairdresser, Melissa Schemmenti must change salons.

Tag list: (Since this is my first time writing for this character, I thought it best not to tag anyone. So if you want to be tagged just let me know.)

Warning: MELISSA AND Y/N ARE MAaaaD *in Ava's voice*

Words: 4k

Synopsis of the story + Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Enjoy!

Link on AO3

Chapter 1 - changes

Barbara Howard's friendship had a transformative impact on Melissa Schemmenti's personal life from the beginning.

The religious woman's friendship at the beginning of the redhead's career made the Italian woman rethink a lot about herself. Regardless of their moral differences, how their individual relationships with religion are almost opposite, or even their small disagreements, one thing right at the beginning turned Melissa's world upside down.

The once chaotic and disorganized woman discovered the calming practicality of being hostage to well-established standards with a Christmas gift from her black coworker in her second year working at Abbott Elementary.

A schedule with a small calendar.

The year she received that gift, the redhead was furious with what was left written between the lines.

Disorganization.

After all, Melissa had absolutely everything under control.

She always had.

In her own way.

And Melissa also thought it was stupid to waste precious time that could be spent working by just planning to work, but after a terribly inconsistent semester (with more art, music and physical education teachers leaving Abbott than she can count on one hand), the redhead decided to give it a try.

So, 22 years ago Melissa started to use a schedule and a calendar every year faithfully and never looked back.

As she got older, the certainty of her upcoming appointments and how easy was to change what was needed on that sheet of paper to make better use of her time kept Melissa calm even during all the chaos that continued to live in her head and in her classroom every day. But everything changed when the spaces on pages that were reserved especially for her monthly visits to her family's hairdresser were now blank.

Rationally, the redhead knew that the hairdresser who had taken care of her grandmother's hair for the last twenty years of her life, two of her aunts out of town, washed and cared for her mother's hair every week, and three of her sisters periodically couldn't last long. But Melissa couldn't help but feel fooled and betrayed when Andrea Rossi announced her retirement.

The redhead hadn't been Andrea's client for her entire life, after all, the older hairdresser's regular clients had always been her priority. However, Melissa began to be part of the select group of Schemmenti women helped by Andrea when her former hairdresser (the one who had a Greek accent and many opinions that she hated but didn't discuss because he was her brother-in-law's friend), decided to call her Melinda, even after having her as a client for over three years.

Melinda.

Even though it was seventeen years ago, Barb still remembers the angry redheaded hurricane that entered the teachers’ lounge that week and still manages to make jokes about it whenever she gets the chance.

Monthly visits to the older woman had started with a simple hair color, but unlike her old hairdresser, Andrea had become much more than that for Melissa.

It was a ritual, a moment of care that for a long time brought her joy and confidence. It was talking animatedly with an Italian woman who showed her affection and care, something neither of them would admit out loud but was lacking in the Schemmenti family when it came to recognizing Melissa’s efforts and personal victories.

And now it was over.

“Ragazza (girl), don’t be like that… I’m old now, my hands hurt more than I can handle after a busy weekend,” Andrea tried to justify herself, stroking Melissa’s head with a tender smile as she finished coloring her hair that day, but which did not hide the weight of the decision.

“And what am I gonna do now? Let the grays give me another 30 years in less than 6 months?”

“Don’t be silly! I’ve already transferred all my clients to hairdressers that I trust. You included! So stop it now!”

“I don’t want someone new.” Turning uncertainty into resistance is like armor for the redhead, even though she knows she has no choice, her brain still tries to break the meaning of Andrea’s retirement, “It’s going to mess up my entire schedule, Andrea! Two classes and now with you gone? I almost went crazy with the first semester of the year alone, now I know I’ll as soon as classes start after winter break!”

“I know that, Mel, and I'm really sorry. That’s why I talked to the hairdressers I know, and the best choice for you is Y/N, my last trainee. She’s great, hard-working, very talented and was willing to easily change her own clients’ schedule to see you at the same time I see you every month, she also works just five minutes from here. Ahe is young and kind, you’ll like her.”

“But I don’t know her.” Even though she didn’t admit it, the idea of ​​a stranger touching her hair disturbed Melissa deeply, and the murmur that left her mouth made a point of emphasizing this.

The change came too quickly, and with it, a wave of anxiety took over Melissa's heart. This feeling was temporarily drowned out by her more than exhausting routine. She was the hostess of the Schemmenti family's Thanksgiving dinner, and this, along with the end of the year, drained her ability to think about her other problems. But when the following month arrived along with the return to school after winter break, her colorless hair also started to show again, so Melissa swallowed her pride and went to the salon that Andrea had recommended to her.

Riverfront Roots.

The name was silly, a clear reference to the Delaware River that Melissa preferred not to think about too much as she looked at the large letters printed on the facade of the place. As soon as she entered the new salon, the smell of hair products and the sound of blow dryers buzzing caught her attention. The place was modern and well-decorated, but Melissa couldn't feel completely at ease. The smell was different, the decor was different, the voices were different, and the redhead hated evey single one of these things.

She wasn't so reluctant to little changes in her daily life, but that week was so exhausting. The two classes together made a point of actively getting on her nerves, Gary also changed some of the lemonade brands in the vending machine and none of the new ones lived up to the taste of the old ones. The man made a point of telling the redhead that it wasn't done on purpose, thanks to the end of their relationship, and she genuinely believed him, but even so, such a change in such a tiring week only made the teacher's discomfort that Saturday morning turn into a gratuitous and deep antipathy towards everything. Including the new place.

The woman of Italian descent approached the counter, where a receptionist graced her with a friendly smile.

"Hello, how can I help you today?", was the question that greeted Melissa, with a kindness that, in the redhead's mind, was completely unnecessary.

The teacher hesitated for a moment before answering sharply, ignoring the hello offered to her.

"Schemmenti. Melissa Schemmenti. I have a coloring booked here. A recommendation from Andrea Rossi." While the receptionist checked her information, Melissa looked around, trying to get used to the new habitat, but she barely had time to do so because, in less than thirty seconds, the receptionist escorted Melissa to a chair in front of one of the largest mirrors in the salon.

The chair that was chosen for the redhead was a little isolated from the other people present, who were laughing and talking without worrying about the noise, but if the redhead was being honest with herself, she actually preferred it that way.

“Hello, Melissa. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you. I hope you fell welcome and comfortable here with me. Andrea has told me wonderful things about you and I have her notes in my hand to make sure you leave here satisfied.”, a younger woman with a thick accent appeared out of nowhere, vomiting the words at Melissa with a smile and a sweet voice that were already starting to give the redhead a headache.

The speech seemed rehearsed, still genuine, but her voice seemed too practiced to instill comfort in the redhead. And if that wasn't enough, the younger woman was enthusiastically waving a note in her hand like a triumph, making Melissa even more insecure about Y/N's talent than she already was.

The teacher knows she's not an idiot but… This hairdresser wasn't even thirty years old. This Y/N was clearly in her early twenties, with rich hair and a quick smile that probably lit up the room more than those stupid ringlights that surrounded the chairs in that place.

Not to mention that she was beautiful.

Very beautiful.

A part of Melissa, hyper-aware of her own age, felt the bitter taste of envy take over her tongue as she looked at the younger woman's reflection in the mirror in front of her, but another part, even more recklessly, awakened a dormant desire in her mind.

However, even with that spark hidden behind Melissa's eyes, their initial interaction couldn't have been worse.

Y/N seemed excited, first asking Melissa for permission to touch her hair – something the redhead almost said no to, just to see if that smile would die on her lips – but quickly the hairdresser started discussing ideas for Melissa's hair, something that forced the redhead's voice to sound cutting:

"I just want to continue with what I've been doing since my hair roots changed color.", Melissa made sure her voice sounded as sharp as she intended, "Get those ideas out of ya head and just do what Andrea used to."

The lack of niceness caused Y/N to feel strange, but the hairdresser tried to remain calm despite the discomfort.

New clients were always a little insecure, so the Brazilian woman would just prove to the one in front of her that she had talent.

Y/N always had magical hands. When she was still a little girl, on the hot afternoons in her hometown, she would have fun braiding the hair of her school friends. Long locks of hair shiny thanks to the summer sun and strands yellowed by the chemicals of several women in the city often passed through Y/N's hands as if she were an artist molding a sculpture.

Her friends loved the hairstyles she did. At first, they were not at all sophisticated due to her young age, but they were done with so much love and dedication that they always seemed to transform any hair into something unique. For Y/N, it was more than just fun.

It was a passion.

When she reached her teen years, that passion became something more serious. Y/N was not satisfied with just doing the hair of her friends and family. The Brazilian woman wanted to learn, she wanted to master the art of transforming people's hair into something even more special.

That's why when she graduated from high school, Y/N started studying, and within a few months, she was already working professionally at a salon in her city. It didn't take long for her to be recognized for the quality of her work. Her skill with scissors and dye made her quickly stand out among other professionals. She knew what she was doing, she knew how to transform people into more beautiful versions of themselves, she knew what her clients wanted and, most importantly, she knew how to make them feel good.

Little by little, Y/N began to stand out even more and her life began to change.

She knew that her talent could not be limited, and so, when some close friends who had already moved to the United States began to encourage her to try her luck in Philadelphia, Y/N was scared at first. But if the chance to start over in another country meant more opportunities, she couldn't let this pass, even if the exciting idea had the power to scare her. But even though she was frightened, she was soon embarking on a new chapter in her life in a plane.

It was hard to save money for the travel, it was hard to get all the necessary documents to enter the USA legally, it was hard to leave loyal clients behind, and it was even harder to leave her country and its traditions. But the youthfulness of her soul and the hope of a new life embraced her heart and the hairdresser decided to give herself this chance.

Wen she arrived in Philadelphia, Y/N felt, at the same time, small and full of possibilities. The city was big, the competition was powerful, and she was seen as just another foolish immigrant.

But she was determined.

The Brazilian woman knew that her skill could be the key to a promising future. She just didn’t expect that her future would be shaped by Andrea Rossi, an older and more experienced Italian hairdresser who worked at a well-known salon nearby.

The story happened by chance. One of Andrea’s regular clients mentioned that her son had gotten a haircut from a really new Brazilian hairdresser.

“It was something very different… Like those stupid things we see on TikTok, but it was exactly what James wanted, and we had never found anyone willing to do it. What this young woman did perfectly and without thinking twice, and my son loved it!”, the woman commented in admiration before giving the older woman an idea, “You should meet her!”

Andrea was curious and, figuring she had nothing to lose, asked for more information about the Brazilian woman. The client was enthusiastic and told the Italian one everything she knew and, even though she was skeptical, Andrea let her curiosity get the best of her and decided to see it for herself.

The next day, she went to the salon where Y/N was working and, observing closely, immediately noticed the young woman’s skill. The Brazilian woman had the touch of someone who knew what she was doing, an eye for beauty trends, and the needs of her clients, but she also had more than that.

Y/N had a natural connection with people, a charisma that, combined with her smile and strong accent, made any client feel at ease, and Andrea saw that.

So the Italian woman wasted no time. She called Y/N for a chat at the end of her shift and, soon, took her on as her last pupil before announcing her retirement.

Normally, hearing Andrea Rissi's name made Y/N happy. All the advice, recommendations, affection, and wisdom shared by the older woman were a pleasant memory for the Brazilian woman.

But there, while she tried in vain to be nice to what was Andrea's transfer, having her work compared to the older woman's began to annoy her.

First, the owner of those pretty green eyes began to verbalize her dissatisfaction with the work tools Y/N used, telling her how much she preferred Andrea's work tools, which were always on display for her clients to see. Then the redhead started rolling her eyes at Y/N's coworkers, who, since they had no clients, were chatting spiritedly while planning to get their nails done at the end of the day, muttering how much she would appreciate some peace and quiet.

But the first sign Y/N gave that she was definitely not the type of person who would just ignore or shrink from Melissa's bad mood was when the redhead made a point of directly comparing her work to Andrea's before Y/N even started dyeing her hair.

"Andrea never parted my hair like that. You'll leave my hair full of spots, kid!"

Trying to preserve the good mood she had woken up in that morning, the hairdresser chose to be sneaky and ironic. Y/N looked around theatrically and curiously, as if she was searching for something important, and Melissa, unable to contain her fear and confusion, made her voice present.

“What are ya?”

“Nothing. Just looking for Andrea Rossi since you want to talk about her so badly.”

Receiving only silence as an answer, and thinking that the unhappy attitude of that client was over, the hairdresser continues her journey. Y/N measures the dye with all the care in the world, making sure to double-check on the scale in front of her that the weight is correct when compared to what Andrea gave her over the phone before applying the dye accurately, fearing giving Melissa another reason to complain. The Brazilian woman divides Melissa’s hair locks with the focus of a professional with much more experience, doing everything she can to not lose a single blonde hair, and when she goes to wash it, she does so with a gentleness that surprises Melissa.

But the teacher doesn’t want to admit it, so she continues to stare sullenly at the mirror, even while Y/N gently untangles her wet hair.

When the redhead’s hair is nice and completely ready to be dried, Y/N looks at her hair curiously before turning once more to Melissa’s reflection in the mirror.

“I usually do this before dyeing, but what do you think about maybe cutting a few inches? The ends are starting to lose their shape.”

“I don’t want to cut anything.”, the words are said low enough for no one but the hairdresser to hear but Y/N, but with a hint of anger that surprised the young woman, “And stop talking, your voice is too annoying for the kind of mediocre work ya deliver, kid.”

It was insensitive. Even to Melissa.

The redhead knows that Andrea would never send her to a bad hairdresser. She knows she is being harsh and critical to someone who gave her no reason to do so, but before she realizes it the words have already escaped her mouth.

But the teacher simply has no idea what was coming.

The hairdresser’s eyes widened, large pupils full of rage meeting the teacher’s gaze through the mirror, shocked by the words said by Melissa. And, before Melissa's mind can even work on instigating any remorseful reflexes, Y/N grabs a large chunk of hair from the redhead's bangs and takes a pair of scissors out of her pocket with her free hand, quickly placing them right on Melissa's forehead, exactly where her hair grows, like a more than concrete threat.

“Listen to me Philadelphia's beauty, I don't know what kind of hairdresser you expected when Andrea transferred you to me but as long as you sit in my chair you will respect my work and listen to my fucking suggestions.”, it is said as a whisper, but the hairdresser's anger and her thick accent along with the slight pull she gives the redhead's hair make the whole interaction sound indescribably scary, even to Melissa, “I've been nothing but polite and respectful to you, but I'm starting to regret accepting someone so unfortunate in my char that they think they can criticize my work without even knowing me.”

There, locking eyes with Y/N ​​in the salon mirror, Melissa understood how much she had crossed the line.

Melissa took a deep breath, filled with adrenaline at the thought of losing the top part of her hair, before nodding her head, causing Y/N to put down the scissors and let go of her bangs as she returned to work normally.

And then silence.

Dead silence.

The silence between the two women was so thick that it seemed to fill every corner of the room, making the sound of the dryer and the conversations around them sound muffled and filling the air with a corrosive feeling.

The scene from minutes ago was still boiling in Melissa's mind, repeating itself like a scratched record. Now, as if Melissa had finally come to her senses, the redhead wanted to disappear. She wanted to jump out of the chair and run away from the mirror which reflected her own guilt and shame. But she couldn't. Her anxiety combined with the idea of ​​leaving now, before the end of her service (something that could be even more disrespectful than her words), did a magnificent job holding her body in place, like an invisible chain that kept her feet on the floor and her mouth gagged.

With her fingers drumming on her apron-covered leg as the Brazilian woman prepared to style her hair, the teacher wanted to believe that it hadn't been so bad, that maybe Y/N had already forgotten what was said. But she knew that wasn't true. The weight of the moment still hung between them, thick and uncomfortable.

Y/N doesn't cut her hair or even mention the idea once again. The hairdresser just dries her red hair perfectly, but now with a serious gaze and a hurt look on her face. The Brazilian woman vehemently ignores Melissa's green eyes throughout the entire process, and the teacher stupidly decides too late that she prefers the incessant smile that remained on the hairdresser's lips minutes ago.

Melissa thought about apologizing, but the idea of ​​speaking made her breathing quick and shallow, along with the fear of seeming too desperate.

It was then that her eyes fell on the small ceramic jar in the corner of the counter next to her chair. It was decorated with hand-painted flowers and had, in crooked but legible letters, the words: "Tips for Y/N" next to a QR code. Even with the virtual possibility of compensation, the jar was open and with a significant amount of dollars, coins, and two lollipops, which Melissa just knew had been left there by a child.

And so, an idea formed, hesitant but clear in the teacher's mind.

A good tip seemed perfect, silent, indirect, but still meaningful. As the minutes passed, anxiety whispered again in Melissa's mind, wondering if Y/N would believe that she was doing this because of the guilt she felt at that very moment and not because of the regret that was now eating her mind. But the alternative of doing nothing was simply unbearable for Melissa.

The redhead knew she couldn't leave without at least trying, even if in her own way, to make amends.

When Y/N finished applying a light-smelling oil to the teacher's hair and walked away, silently letting her know that her work was done, Melissa tried to meet the hairdresser's eyes and give her a small smile through the reflection in the mirror, which she knew would be nervous, but which could give her an idea of ​​what was going on in Y/N's head.

But Y/N didn't look up at Melissa.

When Melissa got up from the salon chair, her racing heart didn't stop her from taking two generous bills from her wallet — much more than she would give for just an appointment to dye her hair— and walking over to the pot. Her fingers were shaking slightly, but before anything could be done, she was interrupted:

“I don’t want your tip.” Before the two hundred dollars could enter the ceramic pot with the Brazilian’s name written on it, Y/N placed her own hand over the top to the object, successfully blocking Melissa from doing what she intended.

“M'kay. Now you’re being ridiculous!”

With those words, the hairdresser's eyes finally focus on the green ones again, still filled with an anger that Melissa rarely sees in people who have a disagreement with her (too used to the regretful and submissive ones) and the redhead was shocked by this when Y/N actively chooses to ignore her accusation by saying:

"I'm willing to give you the exact coloring mixture that Andrea developed for your hair so you can find a hairdresser who is like the silent imitation of Andrea that you are looking for.", and before the redhead even has a chance to answer her with an apology that would apparently be necessary, the hairdresser quickly collects everything that was used in the teacher's service and directs Melissa a few more words before walking away without looking back, "Call the salon when you want the measurements and the receptionist will share them with you with pleasure. Have a good rest of your day."

[pnfc]

today i was revisiting the pnf choose your own adventure book where the author they roped in to write it has an only middling understanding of pnf, thinks candace is blonde etc, but still got this much correct

[uses-for-fics]

I’m Yours | Manny Rivera

ft Jack Griffin

YN had been heading to the art room to grab some supplies for a class project. Her students are working on creating a skeletal system out of construction paper, combining biology with hands-on creativity.

As YN rummaged through the art room shelves, she heard a voice behind her. “Need any help?”

Startled, she spinned around to see Manny, a warm smile on his face. Without missing a beat, she blurts, “If I’d known the school board was visiting today, I wouldn’t have left the kids in charge of the classroom!”

Manny raised an eyebrow, chuckling nervously. "Wait… they’re not actually alone, are they?"

She grinned and shook her head. "Relax, they’re at recess. Mr. Gregory offered to watch my class while I grabbed the supplies."

Manny lets out a relieved laugh and glances at the stack of construction paper and glue sticks in her arms. "Need some help with that?"

"Sure," YN replies with a smile, and Manny grabs a few supplies to lighten her load. As they walk back to her classroom, they fall into easy conversation. Manny teases her about her creative lesson plans, and the topic shifts to their dinner plans for that evening.

“I’m excited for tonight,” Manny says, his tone warm. “You’ve been opening up more, and I’m really glad you’re letting me into your space.”

YN smiles softly. “Thanks for being patient with me. It means a lot. You don’t mind taking it slow?”

“Not at all,” he replies sincerely. As they approached her classroom door, YN hesitated, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Would it be wildly inappropriate if I kissed you at school?”

Manny grins, then gently lifts her hand to his lips, placing a light kiss on it. “How about this for now?” he says, his voice low and affectionate.

YN blushes, their connection palpable even in the brief moment. She opens the door, and they part ways as she prepares to dive back into teaching, already looking forward to the evening ahead.

Later that evening, YN and Manny are enjoying a cozy dinner at her house. The conversation flows easily, with YN recounting her day at school while Manny listens attentively. She giggles as she tells him about a student who glued the construction paper bones to his face instead of the paper skeleton. "But," she laughs, "he got all the bones in the right place, so I gave him a B+ for effort."

Manny chuckles, shaking his head. "That’s one creative way to learn anatomy." As he reaches across the table to hold her hand, YN moves to take his hand in hers but accidentally knocks over his glass of water, spilling it all over his shirt.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she says, jumping up.

“It’s fine,” Manny reassures her, laughing.

“I think I have an oversized tee somewhere,” she says, heading toward her bedroom. "You can change into that." Manny follows her, amused by her flustered energy. While YN rummages through her dresser, she waves toward the closet. “Feel free to look in there if you want to see if anything works for you.”

As she’s searching, Manny calls out, “Hey, I didn’t know you were a cardigan person! This one’s really comfy!” She turns to see him standing shirtless, wearing an old burgundy cardigan that’s clearly a size too big for her. Manny’s grinning, doing a little spin. “Wow, it even fits me!”

YN stares for a moment before rushing over. “Oh no, Manny, not that one. You shouldn’t wear that.”

Feigning offense, he asks, “What, does it look bad on me?”

She sighs, sitting on the edge of her bed. “It’s not that… It was my ex-boyfriend’s. I forgot I even had it.” Manny immediately softens, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Want to talk about it?”

She hesitates, then begins to open up. “His name was Jack Griffin. We worked at the same school in Toledo. I taught biology, and he taught AP Bio. He was brash, cynical… and, well, magnetic. It was one of those fiery, all-consuming relationships, but it just wasn’t healthy. He was too controlling, too cynical about everything, and he wanted to move faster than I was ready for. I had to end it. He tried to play it off like it was mutual so he could save face, but…” Her voice trails off, and she shakes her head, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m saying way too much.”

Manny rubs her shoulder gently. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to tell me. That stuff’s important.” He stands up and removes the cardigan, setting it aside. Spotting an oversized tee with a Paddy’s Pub logo, he grins. “This will do nicely.” He pulls it on and stretches his hand out to her. “How about we go finish dinner and watch a movie? Your choice.”

She takes his hand and kisses it softly. “Thank you for being so perfect.” The night ends with the two of them cuddled on her couch, accidentally falling asleep while watching Wallace and Gromit. Plates of half-eaten dessert and a shared blanket are the only witnesses to their growing bond.

[gildedwillow]

it’s too big .. i want all of it - melissa schemmenti - 18+

.

melissa’s already trembling before you even get inside her. she’s straddling your lap, blouse open, skirt bunched around her waist, and her soaked panties pushed to the side. your cock is thick, long, and heavy against her slit — so much bigger than anything she’s had before.

.

melissa schemmenti x g!p fem!reader

It starts with her grinding on you in your bed, barely lit by the streetlight leaking through the blinds. She’s straddling you in that tight little skirt she didn’t even bother taking off, blouse open, tits out and flushed — flushed like her face, like her thighs, like the mess already soaking through her panties.

She’s needy, whimpering into your mouth, kissing you with a hunger she usually masks under all that attitude. But tonight? She’s desperate. Already dripping. And your cock hasn’t even touched her yet.

You push her panties to the side and run the head of your cock through her slick folds, watching her hips twitch and her breath catch.

"You're already so wet, baby," you murmur against her jaw, dragging your cock head down until it nudges her entrance. "You want it that bad, huh? Just been sitting on my lap thinking about how this big fucking cock’s gonna stretch you out?”

She nods, but it’s frantic — overwhelmed. Because when she looks down and sees the way your cock’s throbbing beneath her, fat and veiny and very real, her whole body tenses. Her thighs tighten around your waist, her lip quivers, and she whispers, "It’s not gonna fit…"

But you’re already gripping her hips. "Yeah it will," you growl. "You're gonna take all of it. You need it too bad not to."

You start slow, pressing the tip in, and she instantly gasps — her head falling back, mouth open in a silent cry. She's tight, so goddamn tight you feel every inch as her walls clench down hard, sucking you in like she was made for you. It’s hot, wet, gripping, and you have to fight the urge to bury yourself all at once.

"Fuuuck—" you groan, watching her struggle to take you. Her nails dig into your shoulders, tears pricking her eyes.

"It’s s-so big," she whimpers. "Fuck, I can feel it— I can feel it in my stomach—"

You glance down and see it. That thick bulge pressing up under her belly, moving when you shift your hips. You press your palm there, gently, and she nearly screams. Her whole body jerks, pussy clenching down so hard it’s like her body’s begging you to stay deep.

“You feel that? That’s my cock, right there in your tummy,” you murmur, lips brushing her ear. “Look how deep I am, Melissa. Look how full you are.”

She’s moaning now — helpless, high-pitched, trembling. You start thrusting slow but deep, and her whole body rocks with every movement. Her legs are already shaking, her cunt milking you like it wants your cum now.

"You're fucking made for me, baby," you grunt, snapping your hips up harder. “You feel how you squeeze me? Like you want me to knock you up.”

Melissa moans loud — embarrassingly loud — and tries to cover her mouth, but you yank her hand away and pin it to the mattress.

“Don’t you dare hide that. Let me hear how much you want it. You want this cock to stuff you full, don’t you? Want me to fuck a baby into this tight little pussy?”

She loses it.

Her body seizes up, thighs locked around you, eyes rolled back, and she just screams. Not a cute whimper — a raw, broken cry as her whole body shudders and suddenly, she squirts. It’s messy, intense, uncontrollable — gushing around your cock, soaking your thighs, the sheets, everything. Her pussy’s clenching like mad, like she can’t get enough of you, like her body’s dragging your cum out of you.

You curse under your breath, hips stuttering, because that’s all it takes — the sight of her soaking you, twitching and overstimulated under you, moaning your name with that fucked-out look in her eyes. You slam into her one last time and bury yourself to the base, cock swelling, and then—

You come. Hard.

Thick ropes of cum shoot deep inside her, filling her so full you feel it leak out around your cock even though you’re still buried inside. You stay there, holding her hips down, cock twitching with every pulse as her walls milk you for everything you’ve got.

She’s gasping. Shaking. Whining, "S’full… oh my god… I can feel it—”

You press against her tummy again and feel your cum sloshing around deep inside. Her pussy twitches again, and she nearly sobs from how sensitive she is.

"You’re fucking mine now,” you whisper, licking sweat from her neck. “That pussy’s bred. Stuffed full of my cum. You feel it, don’t you?"

She nods, barely able to speak.

And you just smirk.

You’re still inside her, both of you panting, her pussy twitching around your cock as your cum slowly leaks out of her, messy and hot between her thighs. She’s boneless above you, clinging to your shoulders, flushed and soaked and ruined — but your mouth is still hungry.

You kiss her, slow and deep, fingers curling around her jaw as you murmur against her lips, “Come sit on my face, baby.”

She blinks, dazed. “What?”

You smile, cock still buried in her, and slowly lift her off your lap. She whimpers as you slide out of her, your cock slipping free with a wet, obscene sound, followed by a drip of thick cum spilling out of her swollen cunt. You watch it — entranced — then look up at her with a dark glint in your eyes.

“I said,” you repeat, laying back and patting your chest, “ride my fucking face. I want to taste you — taste me — leaking out of your messy little hole.”

Melissa shudders. Her knees wobble a little as she crawls up your body, legs trembling from the aftershocks of everything you just did to her. She hesitates for a second, hovering over your face, thighs on either side of your head, pussy right there — glistening, swollen, red and slick with your cum dripping from her core.

And then you grab her thighs and pull her down onto your mouth.

She gasps — a choked little cry — as your tongue dives in, licking a long, slow stripe up her slit before circling her entrance. You hum like she’s your last meal, nosing into her folds, tongue lapping up every drop of slick and cum. She’s soaked, salty and sweet and thick with your seed, and you drink it all in like you’re starved for it.

You slide your tongue inside her and start fucking her with it — deep, slow thrusts that make her hips twitch and her thighs clench around your head. Her hands scramble for something to hold onto, eventually settling in your hair, grinding down against your mouth with helpless, greedy little whines.

“Oh my god, baby—fuck—your tongue—” she moans, head tossed back, hips moving on their own. “You’re—mmh—you’re licking your own cum outta me—what the fuck—”

You groan into her pussy, the vibration making her shiver. You love how messy she is. How ruined. Her swollen cunt clenches every time your tongue pushes back inside her, slurping and swirling and pushing your cum back in as fast as it leaks out.

And the more you tongue-fuck her, the more desperate she gets.

She’s crying now — overwhelmed, sensitive, already on the edge again. Her clit brushes your nose every time her hips rock forward, and you start grinding up into it just to wreck her faster. Her whole body’s trembling above you, thighs shaking, voice breaking.

“I—I can’t—baby, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

You growl, lock your arms around her thighs, and drag her hips down even harder against your mouth. You suck her clit into your mouth, tongue flicking furiously while your nose nudges her slick entrance, and that’s all it takes.

She screams.

Full-body tremor, thighs locked tight around your head, hips jerking forward in frantic little spasms as she gushes again — not just a squirt this time, it’s a flood. She soaks your face completely, her pussy squirting all over you as she rides out the most violent orgasm of her life, trembling, crying, moaning your name like a prayer.

You don’t stop. You keep licking her, slower now, just cleaning her up — licking up the mix of slick and cum and squirt from her dripping cunt, kissing between her thighs, tongue lazily dragging through the mess while she twitches above you.

She finally collapses forward onto your chest, body limp, face buried in your neck.

“You’re… fucking insane,” she breathes.

You just smirk, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and giving her ass a little squeeze.

“And you fucking love it.”

Melissa's body is still trembling when you flip her onto her back, but her legs fall open instinctively, pussy glistening and twitching with every breath. She’s flushed, lips swollen, face streaked with tears and sweat — and she looks so fucking good like this. Raw. Wrecked. Yours.

“Y-you’re not done?” she breathes out, voice hoarse, barely holding on.

“Not yet, baby,” you murmur, climbing over her. “One more. Gonna fill you up one last time.”

Before she can respond, you grab the back of her thigh and fold her in half — one leg pushed up over her shoulder, the other bent out wide. You slide your cock between her soaked folds, and even after everything, she’s still tight — clenching around you like she doesn’t want to let go.

You push in slow at first, just to watch the expression on her face — her jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut as your cock sinks in again, stretching her open. You’re already so fucking deep in this position, and when your hips bottom out, your stomach brushes hers and you swear you feel her fucking pulse around you.

She’s gone. Moaning, begging, grabbing at the sheets like she can’t survive another round — but the second you pull back and thrust in again, hard, sharp, deep, she screams for it.

"FUCK—right there, baby, right fucking there—"

You fuck into her like you’re trying to live inside her — fast, brutal thrusts that punch deep into her every time your hips snap forward. She’s folded up tight, stomach pressed up, tits bouncing, her pussy dripping with slick and cum and the obscene, wet sound of it echoing through the room.

You press down on her lower belly again and feel yourself inside her — bulging against her skin, so deep she can barely breathe.

“You feel that, baby?” you pant, voice wrecked. “That’s me, right fucking there—”

She sobs, nodding frantically, fingers digging into your biceps as her pussy clenches again, fluttering around you.

“I-I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna come, please—please don’t stop—”

You slam into her faster, harder, dragging her down the mattress with each thrust. Her whole body is vibrating now, legs locked up, eyes wide and glassy.

“Come for me,” you growl, thrusting deep and holding there, grinding your hips into hers, rubbing against her g-spot. “Come on my cock, Mel. Wanna feel you fall apart while I fill this perfect pussy one last time.”

And then she breaks.

Her whole body goes stiff, then snaps — pussy squeezing so tight around you it’s like a vice, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her third orgasm crashes over her. She convulses under you, squirting again — not as much this time, but still enough to make your cock slick and your thighs soaked.

You can’t hold it anymore.

You curse, choke out her name, and slam into her one last time — burying yourself to the hilt as your cock twitches, then explodes inside her. Thick, hot cum floods her pussy, spilling around your cock as you pump her full all over again, grinding into her as deep as you can, not wasting a single drop.

She’s shaking, barely conscious, breath stuttering as she takes all of it. Her fingers grip your forearm like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

You stay there, buried inside her, breathing heavy against her shoulder. Both of you soaked. Spent. Absolutely destroyed.

You kiss her cheek softly and murmur against her ear:

“You’re fucking perfect.”

She’s too tired to speak — just hums, smiling lazily, filled to the brim and happy to be ruined by you.

[daddiesdrarryy]

Draco: I just made out with Potter

Pansy: You what? How many times?

Draco: Seven

Draco: —teen

Pansy: WHAT?