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anotherworldawaitsus · 6 days ago

Text

Crash

Summary: An accident pulls you and Melissa further into each other’s orbit.

Chapter: 2/4

Chapter 2

By the time you got to the assembly hall, most of the staff had already gathered in fold-out chairs near the stage. A few heads turned as you trailed in behind Melissa, moving a little slower and more gingerly with each step. You sank gratefully into a seat that Gregory had saved you. Melissa stood nearby, one foot propped against the bleachers, arms folded across her chest.

“You good?” he asked in a low voice. “You’re pale…well, paler than usual.”

You gave him a mocking smile. “Gee, thanks.”

Melissa, overhearing the exchange, narrowed her eyes and carefully scrutinized your face. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on your forehead during the walk. Add it to the growing list of things she didn’t like about this whole situation.

“Had a little fender bender this morning,” you said. “Just shook me up a bit.”

He cast a doubtful glance toward the cut on your forehead. “Fender-bender?”

“She means attempted homicide,” Melissa said loudly.

Barbara turned to see what the commotion was all about. “Homicide? Good Lord! Are you all right, dear?”

Before you could answer, Ava came waltzing out to the podium and tapped the mic aggressively. “Is this thing on?”

There was a collective wince from the gathered teachers as feedback echoed loudly throughout the auditorium. She gave the crowd one of her dazzling, impish smiles and started reading out the litany of announcements for the upcoming quarter.

You shifted in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position. You could feel Melissa’s eyes on you, hawk-like, cataloguing every movement. By the time Ava wrapped things up about an hour later, your breathing was shallow, pain radiating throughout your entire body.

Some of the teachers began drifting off to their classrooms to finalize lessons plans and restock supplies. Melissa started toward you, but got pulled into a negotiation about timetables for library access with Mr. Hammond. You watched her cracking her knuckles, casting furtive glances in your direction. She was jittery, anxious, and itching for a fight. Hammond, known for condescending and long-winded diatribes, had picked the wrong day to go toe-to-toe with her. His fleshy, weak-chinned face wobbled with indignity as she laid into him.

Normally you would have wanted a ringside seat, but the noise in the cavernous room was making your head throb. You rolled your shoulders experimentally to see if you could relieve the building pressure.

“I’m going to grab some coffee,” Gregory said. “Want to sneak out?”

“Yes, please,” you replied instantly.

Gregory watched you struggle to your feet for a few seconds, finally taking pity on you and hooking an arm under your elbow.

“Fender-bender?” he repeated drily.

“Don’t start,” you groaned.

Together you slipped out of the auditorium and made your way down the hall, chit-chatting about politics and sports and weather. Gregory was always easy to talk to; you liked his mellow energy and calm presence.

Reaching the empty teacher’s lounge, you suddenly realized what was missing. “Hey, where’s Janine?”

“She had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” Gregory said, glancing at his wristwatch. “Should be here soon.”

He took two mugs from the cabinet, filled them with coffee, then fixed you with a pointed look. “You gonna tell me why Melissa looks ready to murder somebody?”

You scoffed, rubbing your temples. “She always looks like that.”

He inclined his head slightly, conceding your point.

Back in the assembly hall, the very subject of your discussion had just noticed your absence. As Hammond slunk off to lick his wounds, Melissa’s eyes flickered reflexively over to check on you and widened when she found your chair empty. She scanned the room, muttering a string of colorful curses under her breath. Barbara’s ears perked up, organically attuned to Melissa after so many years of working together.

“You’re tense this morning,” she observed. “What’s the matter?”

Melissa scrubbed a hand over her face. “She’s trying to put me in an early grave, Barb.”

The other woman nodded sympathetically. No need to ask who “she” was. There was only one person at Abbott Elementary who could drive Melissa this crazy.

Over the years, Barbara had had occasion to observe Melissa in several relationships. Most with men lacking in some combination of character, decency, romance, or tenderness—all qualities her friend keenly deserved, all qualities that you possessed. Yet when Barbara had dared to imagine a potential suitor that might come close to being good enough for Melissa Schemmenti, you were not remotely what she had envisioned. You were younger, for starters. And quiet. And not a Philadelphia native. Three strikes, or so she’d thought.

But then Barbara had noticed the way Melissa found excuses to appear in your office, the way you seemed to always end up on the playground during her class recess, the way you made each other laugh, the way your breath caught when she leaned against you, touched you. Most of all, Barbara noticed the way you looked at Melissa when you thought no one else could see you. To Barbara, it looked a little like love. She supposed the old saying was true—it really was the quiet ones you had to watch out for.

“I think I saw her slip out with Mr. Eddie,” she confided, feeling a surge of affection for Melissa as she stormed away and a twinge of concern for Gregory who had no idea he’d just entered the Schemmenti crosshairs.

In the staff lounge, Gregory slowly stirred his coffee with a small spoon, an infuriatingly patient expression on his face.

“Is that cup for me?” you asked eventually.

Turning on one heel, he reached across the counter for a protein bar. “It could be,” he observed. “If you tell me what’s going on.”

“That’s coercion.”

“Bribery,” he corrected, handing you the mug. “Technically, more of a quid pro quo arrangement.”

“Wow,” you said, taking a sip. “This tastes like whatever you pour on your yard when the weedkiller isn’t strong enough.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. “The notes of battery acid are particularly aggressive this morning.”

You braced yourself against the refrigerator, trying to find some relief from the deep ache that had settled in your sides, and finally gave Gregory what he wanted. As you quickly outlined everything (the truck, the aggressive cutoff, the swerve, the crunch of metal meeting pavement, the surreal glow of ambulance light) his eyes widened.

“Shit,” he said. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you assured him. “It scared me, but I think it scared Melissa more. And it pissed her off. You know how she is.”

“Of course,” he said, giving you a significant look.

“Crazy,” you both said in unison, nodding.

“And she likes you,” he added.

You felt your cheeks pinken. “Yeah.”

He watched you over the rim of his mug, a smug smile spreading across his face. “Yeah,” he repeated.

“So anyway,” you said, plowing ahead. “Long story short—I have a couple cracked ribs and a gorgeous, deranged redhead vowing to avenge me.”

“Don’t forget the concussion,” he added. You stared at him blankly.

Gregory pointed at his own eyes. “Your pupils are like, hella dilated.”

Before you could respond, a small tornado-shaped woman came flying into the faculty lounge. First she rocketed into Gregory, squeezing him affectionately.

“Good morning, boyfriend!” Janine beamed, preparing to launch herself at you next. “And Happy New Year, treasured colleague!”

As you braced for impact, two things happened. Gregory reached out a hand to restrain Janine, and a furious voice from behind you bellowed, “Hands off the shrink!”

Janine paused mid-lunge. You all turned to see Melissa, arm outstretched and hair in a fiery mane around her shoulders. The look on her face was murderous.

“I gave ya one rule,” she seethed. “And ya broke it in an hour.”

Gregory set his coffee cup on the table diplomatically and placed a hand at the small of Janine’s back. “Ms. Teagues,” he announced, sounding overly formal even for him. “I need some help rearranging those desks in my classroom.”

“But what about —“ Janine objected, wide eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Melissa, a look of desperate curiosity on her face. Gregory just shook his head, guiding her out of the room. Rather than moving aside, Melissa roughly checked his shoulder with her own as he passed.

“You’re on my shit list,” she growled.

He massaged his shoulder. “Noted.”

Once they had disappeared, Melissa stalked over to where you stood leaning against the refrigerator. “You’re worse than my second graders. I turn my head for 5 minutes and you’re gone?”

“Maybe you should put me on a leash,” you said sweetly. Melissa’s lips parted slightly in an “oh” of surprise. For the second time in as many hours, you’d managed to put an absolutely mouth-watering thought into her head.

“Maybe I will,” she nodded, glassy eyes lingering on your throat. “Maybe that will help you learn to behave like a good girl.”

Now it was your turn to squirm in delicious agony as she threw your own words back in your face. She grinned at reclaiming the upper hand. Before she could press her advantage, however, Jacob wandered into the lounge.

“Oh there you are,” he said to Melissa, clearly relieved. “There’s a meeting happening in five minutes about computer…”

He trailed off, glancing between you. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Melissa shook her head. “Not at all,” she said smoothly. “Just chatting with Dr. Freud here about her thoughts on discipline.”

Unfortunately, you had just taken a sip of coffee and your choked reaction gave way to a fit of coughing. Turning toward the kitchen counter, you leaned over the sink as eye-watering pain exploded around your ribs.

“Discipline?” Jacob frowned, oblivious to the innuendo. “Any students in particular?”

Melissa waved him off. “Just tell everyone I’ll be there in a minute.”

He bobbed his head in agreement and wandered back the way he had come. Melissa stepped forward and rubbed small circles on your back as you shuddered, tried to catch your breath. She murmured soothing words, a steady mantra of “It’s okay, you’re okay” over and over again, as if saying it enough times would make it true.

“Fuck,” you croaked when the coughing finally subsided. You wrapped one arm around your stomach and stood up stiffly. Melissa crowded you, running her hands along your back, your arms, as if to confirm firsthand that you were alright.

“I shouldn’t be teasing ya like that,” she said, a disquieted look on her face. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

“Pretty sure I started it,” you reminded her, a wave of exhaustion settling over you. You placed an arm around her shoulders, putting your weight on her. “Come on, Ms. Shemmenti. Walk me to my office.”

When she started to protest, you silenced her with a pointed look. “You can come right back when your meeting is over. I promise, this time I’ll be exactly where you left me.”

A few moments later, Melissa was depositing you on the sofa beside your desk. When she flicked on the overhead light, pain ricocheted around the inside of your head. You immediately covered your eyes. “Too bright,” you mumbled.

“You need painkillers,” she said, switching it back off and turning to rummage in a drawer.

You reclined a bit, resting your head on the cushion. “It’s a shame I left my horse tranquilizer at home,” you murmured. She snorted, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol.

Once she was satisfied you had everything you needed (laptop, glass of water, pillow) and that you’d taken something for the pain, she reluctantly backed out of the room with a promise to return soon. You waved her off.

“I’ll be right here, updating my student files.”

Melissa hummed, giving you one last hard look. Then she turned and stalked down the hallway.

Chapter 3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x you

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xtra7s · 1 year ago

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Could you maybe do one where r is a boxer and has like a big fight. Renee x reader

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee watches as her girlfriend fights in the ring, cheering for her every step of the way.

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, R is a boxer, bit of blood/violence, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: loved this request. hope you enjoy!

masterlist

Renee Rapp, adorned in a black jacket and dark clothing, slipped through the bustling crowd at the boxing venue. The air buzzed with anticipation as the murmurs of fans and the distant sounds of a cheering crowd merged into a symphony of excitement. Tonight was no ordinary night. It was Y/N's big fight, and Renee couldn't be prouder.

Her heart raced as she made her way to the ringside. The atmosphere was charged with energy, and the stadium lights illuminated the boxing ring, revealing a mix of nerves and determination on the faces of the fighters. Renee found her VIP seat, eyes fixed on the ring, eagerly awaiting the moment her girlfriend would make her grand entrance.

The announcer's voice echoed through the venue, introducing the fighters one by one. The cheers of the crowd intensified as Y/N, known as the "Silent Fury" in the ring, stepped into the spotlight. Dressed in her boxing gear, she exuded a quiet confidence that spoke volumes about her dedication and skill.

Renee's heart swelled with pride as Y/N's eyes found hers in the crowd. A silent exchange of love and support passed between them, a connection stronger than any applause or camera flash. Y/N gave a nod, acknowledging Renee's presence, before turning her focus to the impending battle.

The bell rang, and the fight began. Renee's gaze remained unwavering on Y/N as she moved with precision and agility, a true force to be reckoned with. The crowd erupted with every punch thrown, and Renee couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline with each successful strike.

The air in the arena crackled with energy as the fight unfolded in the ring. Y/N, the "Silent Fury," showcased a masterful display of skill and strategy, her movements a dance of controlled aggression. Each punch thrown, each evasive maneuver, spoke volumes about the countless hours of training and dedication that had brought her to this moment.

Renee sat at the edge of her seat, her eyes never leaving Y/N's figure in the ring. The rhythmic thud of gloves meeting flesh, the sharp exhales with each strike—all resonated with a visceral intensity. The crowd roared with approval, their cheers blending into a symphony of adrenaline.

Y/N's opponent, a formidable force in her own right, pushed back with determination. The two fighters engaged in a riveting exchange of blows, a dance of power and resilience. The ebb and flow of the match kept the audience on the edge of their seats, their collective breaths held in anticipation.

Y/N's strategy became clear—meticulous precision paired with explosive bursts of energy. The Silent Fury lived up to her moniker, a calm exterior concealing the storm of determination within. Renee marveled at the way Y/N moved, each motion a testament to her commitment to the sport.

Between rounds, Renee anxiously watched Y/N retreat to her corner. Their eyes met, and Renee offered a reassuring smile. The silent communication spoke volumes – a shared understanding that went beyond words. Y/N's determination never wavered, fueled by the love and support radiating from the woman who stood at the edge of the ring.

As the fight reached its intense climax, Y/N found herself caught in a fierce exchange of blows with her formidable opponent. The air in the arena was thick with tension, and the crowd's cheers and roars intensified with each well-placed punch. The relentless dance in the ring seemed to transcend the physical, echoing the resilience of a fighter unwilling to back down.

In a moment of quick and unexpected retaliation, Y/N took a solid hit to the face. The force of the blow reverberated through the arena, and an audible gasp swept through the spectators. A trickle of warmth signaled that Y/N's nose had borne the brunt of the impact. The crowd fell momentarily silent, the sight of Y/N, bloodied but unbowed, hanging in the air.

Renee's heart skipped a beat as she watched from the ringside, standing up quickly to hold against the bars of the balcony she was on, a mixture of concern and admiration etched across her face. Y/N staggered back, briefly stunned by the hit, but her eyes remained focused, the fire within undiminished. The referee quickly assessed the situation, checking for any signs that might warrant stopping the fight.

Blood dripped from Y/N's nose, staining her boxing gloves, but she shook off the pain and wiped away the blood with a determined swipe of her glove. The taste of iron lingered in her mouth, a visceral reminder of the brutal reality of the sport she loved. The referee gave the signal, and the fight resumed.

In the subsequent rounds, Y/N fought with a newfound ferocity. The adversity only seemed to ignite a spark within her, turning the pain into fuel for her determination. Despite the visible toll on her face, Y/N moved with calculated precision, unleashing a barrage of counterattacks that left her opponent on the defensive.

Renee, her worry transforming into awe, could see the resilience in Y/N's every movement. The crowd, initially hushed by the sight of the injury, now erupted into a chorus of support. Cheers and chants filled the arena as Y/N pushed forward, refusing to let the setback dictate the outcome of the match.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the fight, Y/N stood in the center of the ring, battered and bloodied but victorious. The crowd's thunderous applause and standing ovation were a testament not just to Y/N's skill but to her indomitable spirit.

As the final rounds approached, the tension in the arena reached its zenith. The crowd's cheers reverberated, creating a cacophony of sound that encapsulated the intensity of the moment. Y/N, sweat-soaked and resilient, pressed forward with unwavering determination.

In a climactic exchange, Y/N delivered a powerful combination that left her opponent staggering. The referee stepped in, declaring Y/N the victor. The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause, and Renee jumped to her feet, overcome with joy.

The roar of the crowd still echoed through the arena as Y/N made her way backstage, the taste of victory mingling with the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Renee, her concern evident in her eyes, rushed to meet Y/N the moment she stepped off the canvas.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Renee's voice was filled with a mixture of worry and pride.

Y/N managed a weary smile, her face still marked by the battle scars of the fight. "I'm good, baby. Just a little banged up, that's all."

As they retreated to a more private area backstage, away from the prying eyes of the media, Renee gently guided Y/N to a chair. She could see the signs of exhaustion etched on Y/N's face, but the fire in her eyes remained unyielding.

"Let me take a look at that," Renee said softly, reaching for a towel to dab away the blood from Y/N's nose.

Y/N winced slightly as Renee touched the tender area. The cut on her nose, while not deep, had left a visible mark. Renee, however, approached the task with a delicate touch, her love and concern evident in every gesture as she brought a hand up to hold Y/N's face still.

"I can't believe you kept going after that hit," Renee murmured, a mix of admiration and concern in her voice.

Y/N chuckled, the sound slightly muffled by the cotton towel pressed against her nose. "Wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, you should've seen the look on her face when I came back swinging."

As Renee cleaned the cut, she couldn't help but marvel at the strength and resilience of the person before her. Y/N's determination, both in the ring and in life, was a source of inspiration. The adrenaline of the fight had given way to a more intimate moment between them, the backstage chaos fading into the background.

Once the bleeding was under control, Renee reached into a nearby medical kit for some ice and a soothing balm. Gently applying the cold compress to the bruised area around Y/N's eye, she spoke in a soothing tone. "You were incredible out there, Y/N. I've never seen anything like it."

Y/N leaned into Renee's touch, grateful for the comfort and care. "Couldn't have done it without you in the crowd, cheering me on. Your presence is my secret weapon. Now kiss it better."

Renee smiled widely, rolling her eyes. "I love you" she murmured, leaving a light kiss on Y/N's nose, as she held her.

As they sat together backstage, the connection between them deepened. The physical wounds would heal, but the bond they shared, forged in the crucible of the fight, remained unbreakable. In that quiet backstage moment, surrounded by the echoes of victory and the gentle hum of their love, Renee and Y/N found solace in each other's presence, knowing that no matter the challenges they faced, they could overcome them together.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #the sex lives of college girls #lesbian #wlw #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls

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