this-is-good-and-gay

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Slow Dancing in the Dark pt 1

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa needs a date to her sister’s wedding in order to prove her wrong.

Warnings: depictions of a nonviolent shark attack (?)

Notes: if you guys like this I’ll continue :) lmk

The mood in the break room is abysmal, to put it lightly. It seems that everyone is attuned to Melissa and the vibes she gives off, staying quiet so as to not set her off any more than she already is.

“What put you in a bad mood?” Barbara asks, growing tired of the silent fuming her lunch partner is doing across the table. She’s eating a bit too aggressively for her tastes, and it’s not like anyone else has the courage to speak to Melissa when she’s in a mood.

Apparently that is all the prompting Melissa needs to start venting. “I got an invitation in the mail. Guess who’s getting married?” Her tone is harsh, letting Barbara know it could only be one of two people that has her upset. Usually, Melissa is capable of letting things roll off her back and not bother her too much, but her ex-husband and her sister just dig their nails under her skin and stay there.

Barbara keeps her voice gentle and caring, not wanting her friend to clam up before expressing her feelings. “Oh no. Is it Joe?”

The plastic fork in her hand snaps as she stabs the lettuce of her salad. “Worse. Kristin Marie.” This was more severe than Barbara had thought. There must be something else going on besides her little sister inviting her to her wedding to make her this upset.

“Not to Joe, right?” She was horrified at the thought, but wouldn’t put it past either of them. If they wanted to hurt Melissa they would find a way and it couldn’t get more painful than her ex husband and little sister getting married to each other.

Melissa’s sandwich almost disintegrates under the pressure of her grasp, not able to eat her salad without a fork. “No, some guy she met at a charity event. How disgusting. Do you know the worst part?”

“Hm?” Frankly, Barbara is scared her best friend is about to go off the deep end, her voice raising as she becomes more agitated.

“She didn’t give me a plus one. So I called her to ask why. She told me she figured I wasn’t dating, so why would I need one?” The annoyance in her tone fills the break room. Her face has gone red with her anger at the situation and people are starting to stare.

“Oh Melissa, you know you could date again. You can find someone.” Barbara reaches her hand out to pat her friend’s, a dismal effort at comfort but at least it was something. It’s not like Barbara can find her someone to date, Melissa doesn’t usually run in the same circles she does. She isn’t sure how else she can help.

“Well I told her I already did. She gave me the plus one. Problem is, I don’t have anyone to take.” Barbara shakes her head. She’ll never understand Melissa’s need to prove everyone wrong even when it has the opportunity to humiliate her in the end.

“You’re not asking me to attend with you, right?” She doesn’t think so, but she needs to be absolutely sure. Hell must be wherever the Schemmenti sisters are arguing and Barbara certainly doesn’t want to be part of it.

“God no. Kristin knows you anyway. I need someone she hasn’t met.” So she has thought about this, knows she needs to find someone to go with, and is still going through with it. Barbara shakes her head to herself, knowing there’s no way this ends well.

“Ooh I’ll do it. It could be fun, learning more about the Schemmenti psyche. I listened to a podcast the other—,” the history teacher pipes up from the other side of the break room. Barbara thinks he has more balls than anyone gives him credit for.

“Jacob, I love you kid, but you’re too gay to pull that off.” Melissa interrupts, and Barbara is impressed that her glare only does minimal damage to the man’s feelings. Jacob surprises her more everyday.

“What about me? I’d love to meet your sister again, get her to like me.” Of course Janine would offer, the situation combines her need to fix everything with her need to be liked by everyone she meets.

“Janine, this needs to be believable. No one would believe we're together for real. You’re the opposite of what I look for. No offense but I need someone less annoying.” To Janine’s credit, her pout only lasts for a second and she doesn’t try to convince Melissa to reconsider.

Barbara can’t wait for this to be over.

-

Janine lasts no longer than five minutes before she tries to fix Melissa's issue again.

“What about Gregory?” She offers him up and he stares at you wide eyed, pleading with you to help him get out of this. You stare back, unsure how that would be possible.

“I’d rather go on a date with Ava.” You can’t help but to laugh at that. You think Melissa and Ava on a date would be like a shark dating a lion. They’re both too fierce for it to work, it’s more likely they would bite each other's heads off before the end of the night.

“Seems like you just have to tell her.” Jacob must swim in the ocean when he bleeds, a true masochist to try to tell Melissa what she needs to do.

“I’d rather be eaten by a shark than prove Kristin right.” Well. In this scenario, Melissa just might be sticking her foot in her mouth. Another laugh leaves your mouth at the visual.

“You, giggles. Come here.” You weren’t aware that she noticed you or that she knows your name. Since you aren't a masochist yourself, you follow the redhead’s instructions. Melissa has never said a word to you since you started teaching at Abbott. You’ve heard about her; she’s ruthless, self-serving, and not afraid to call someone out on any bullshit. You assumed it was safer to stay out of her way and not draw any attention to yourself. It worked up until now.

Once you’re standing in front of her, she watches you like she’s inspecting a purebred horse, making sure it’s top quality before purchasing. She starts at your feet, making her way to your face. The way she does it makes your mouth dry from the nerves. Meeting your eyes, she nods. “You’ll do.”

“I didn’t even offer,” you object. There’s no way you’re going with a shark to a wedding full of more sharks, you would be eaten alive. Melissa would practically be using you as bait.

“Yeah but you’re the best option.” She says it like it’s final and you don’t have a choice in the matter. You’re not sure where she gets off treating the younger teachers like her children, bossing them around all of the time.

On the other hand, it wouldn’t hurt to have the scariest teacher in the school owe you something. “What’s in it for me?”

“There’s an open bar.” You feel that you can be bolder since it’s clear that she needs you, so you just stare at her, blinking. Free alcohol didn’t appeal to you as much as it did in college. Not like this anyway. Sighing, she relents. “Come to my classroom after school’s over, we’ll talk terms.”

-

“You’re late.” She didn’t even lift her head as you hovered by the classroom door. Melissa must have sensed your hesitation in showing up in the first place. In the end, you decided you may as well hear her out. You could be strong and say no if you want to.

“I came as soon as my kids were gone.” Even to you your voice seems shaky and unsure. You curse yourself for letting her intimidate you.

Finally, she looks up from whatever she’s reading and pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “You can’t be late if we’re going to do this. Nothing to prove to Kristin that she’s better than me.” She’s stern, like she’s scolding one of her students.

You scoff, there’s no way you won’t stand up for yourself. You’re not the one with something to lose in this situation. “Do you want me to do this or not? You didn’t even say a time so how was I late?”

“Fine. I guess you’re right.” She gestures for you to grab a chair from one of the students’ desks and sit near her.

Sitting, you start asking all of the questions that have been rolling around in your head since lunch. “What’s your plan?” You ask, taking in her appearance. There are bags under her eyes and the whites have gone more red than not. Her makeup is smudged in places and there’s a deep frown on her face.

“Well it’s in two weeks in Niagara Falls.” That’s a surprise to you, and you’re sure your expression shows it. The whole thing seems like more of a hassle now and you’re not sure how she plans on making it worth it for you to go all the way to the Canadian border.

“Does that mean we’ll have to spend the night?” You’re beginning to think spending so much time with someone both so intimidating and demanding will be bad for your health.

“Yeah a few probably,” she rubs her face in what’s clearly exhaustion. “Friday night is the rehearsal dinner and the wedding is Saturday afternoon. I figure we’ll leave Sunday. There’s a brunch thing that day but I’m not sure if we’re going.”

Three events. Can you act like you’re in love with Melissa for three events? It doesn’t seem like it would actually be too hard if you and Melissa liked each other. There should be enough people attending that no one will spend enough time around you both to figure anything out. “Okay, have you already looked into flights?”

“We’re driving. It’s only seven hours.” The woman must be crazier than you thought. Fourteen hours in a car alone with Melissa over the course of three days is something that would happen in your nightmares.

“How are we supposed to make the rehearsal dinner from here after school in under seven hours?” It isn’t possible to leave school at four and make it in time for dinner—you wouldn’t get there until at least eleven at night if you drove.

She looks at you for a moment, unmoving, considering your words. “I guess you have a point. I’ll look into flights.”

The satisfaction you’re getting from this conversation—Melissa both apologizing and admitting you were right—puts you in a fantastic mood. “Good. And what are we doing about the actual wedding?”

“What do you mean? We show up and shove it in my sister's face that I do have a date.” She makes it seem like it would be oh so simple. Just pretend to be in love and fool people that have known her her whole life. Easy peasy. Did she realize that she would need to act like she’s in love with you too?

“Right but do you want her and everyone else to like me or do you want to piss them off?” Honestly, you’re not sure which you’d rather do. On one hand, pissing off some Schemmentis seems like it would be something you could do in your sleep. On the other hand, you usually prefer not to stand out in a crowd or draw too much attention to yourself.

Melissa’s head tilts in contemplation. “I hadn’t thought about that. It’s a good thing I’m bringing you. I think the only person I want to piss off is Kristin. I still want to be invited to family dinners after this.” She laughs at her own joke.

Briefly, your eyes flicker to the window to check that the world isn’t ending. Melissa is glad you’re going? Your eyes then travel to the clock to make sure you aren’t dreaming either. The literal reality check completed, you try to push down your confusion at the turn of events today has brought. “Okay and what’s our story?”

“Do we need one?” She's exasperated with all your questions, even though they’re proving to be helpful. She knew it would be difficult but this was a lot to think about.

You blink a few times before you respond. “You’re going to bring your girlfriend that no one’s heard of before and not expect them to ask? You are Italian right? They’re gonna be nosy.” This was the most concerning of her remarks. The story is the most important part of fake dating, you’ve read enough romance novels to know that. Well, that and not falling in love with each other.

Again, Melissa acquiesces. “True. I guess we make it simple, close to the truth. We met at work and I thought you weren’t as bad as everyone else.” She shrugs.

Close to the truth was probably your best bet, so not a bad plan. “And how long have we been together?”

The older woman thinks for a minute. “Not long enough for me to tell everyone but long enough that we’re somewhat serious. So…three months?” She looks to you for approval. Apparently you’re somewhat of an expert on fake dating.

“Sounds good, but how are we going to make it believable?” Silently, you hope she understands what you mean and doesn’t make you say the specific words.

“What do you mean? You pretend to be my girlfriend.” You look at her incredulously. Did she think it was that simple?

When she doesn’t respond, you resign yourself to spelling it out for her. “Yeah but do we hold hands? Dance? Kiss? Are we handsy? I don’t know how you act when you’re in love.”

Melissa drops her head to her hands, the conversation taking its toll on her already exhausting day. “Sure, all of that. Whatever the situation calls for. Anything else?”

“You’re not seriously expecting me to give up my weekend for an open bar. So what else do I get out of this?” If she’s surprised by your boldness, she doesn’t let it show.

“I’ll do all your lunchroom duties for a month.” That is the worst, spending your lunch period listening to children scream for a half hour is not your definition of a good time. It’s a decent offer, but not great.

If you want to have a say in anything that happens the weekend of the wedding you’ll have to ensure Melissa won’t steamroll you. This is a perfect chance to show her you wouldn’t let her. “Make it three and pay for my food the whole weekend.”

Your demands earn you a grimace. “Deal,” she says reluctantly, holding her hand out to you to shake on it. Standing, you shake and turn to leave. You need to find a dress to wear.

“Oh and one last thing,” you stop in the doorway. “For the love of god do not call me any pet names.” The whole weekend would be much harder to deal with if you have to remember to respond to something atrocious like snookums.

She gives you a curt nod. “See ya, giggles.”

[this-is-good-and-gay]

petals of a flower

emily prentiss x fem!reader

5 times the team suspects emily has a girlfriend and the 1 time it gets confirmed

cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as girlfriend, homophobia, case details involving homosexual couples, slight injuries

wc: 3.4k

༺♡༻

emily prentiss is a mystery when she first joins the team.

garcia digs up the standard: parents, place of birth, etc. but the team doesn’t really know her.

they learn a lot about her as she settles into her position over the months. her high school emo phase had been a highlight. 

but there was one part of emily’s life the team still didn’t know about. 

her sexuality.

it’s not that emily’s ashamed, not in the slightest. she’s just nervous about the response. the bau team is her family and she doesn’t want to lose that. 

any girls night or dinner with the team where partners get brought up, emily does everything in her power to change the topic. she’s simply not ready. she’s not ready to tell them about you. 

you’re emily’s favorite person. the best girlfriend she could ask for. 

she just isn’t ready for her two worlds to collide.

1. flowers

a bouquet of flowers sits on emily’s desk when the agent arrives for work. they’re white lilies, wrapped delicately in brown paper and secured with a thin piece of string. a card is tucked in the top.

“uh oh,” derek muses from his own space. “someone has a secret admirer!”

not secret to her. they’re the ones who don’t know about the sender.

emily stands in front of the bouquet, hiding the card under a folder on her desk. if anyone saw the note, they would demand for her to read it outloud. 

“you know white lilies in particular are a popular funeral flower,” spencer jumps in with a fact.

“come on, pretty boy. it’s a romantic gesture. no need to drag down the mood.”

“actually morgan they’re used in weddings too. mainly christian ones but still they’re-”

“reid!”

the sound of derek and spencer’s arguing is drowned out as emily brought the flowers up to her nose. 

soft and sweet. 

she didn’t even need to read the card to know who they were from. 

you had first pointed out white lilies when on your first date with emily. 

it was when you were walking downtown after dinner. vendors had set up outside in the shopping district including one of the floral shops.

emily had stopped you in front of the bins of flowers. “which ones are your favorite?”

you didn’t have to think for very long. “white lilies,” you answered honestly. “they represent rebirth and purity.”

she hummed a noise of content beside you.

you reached into your bag to pull out your wallet, quickly grabbing the right amount of cash and handing it to the florist who sat outside. 

“to new beginnings,” you beamed, offering the pre-wrapped flowers to emily. her cheeks turned a rosy pink, a stark contrast to the white petals. 

she kissed you for the first time that night. 

ever since then, white lilies have become your mutual flower. 

“any idea who they’re from?”

that’s j.j. who asks after walking over to her with a stack of papers. 

“no idea.”

emily hides her smile in the petals. 

2. minimal loss

there’s a small group waiting in the quantico parking lot.

it’s late. the lights only illuminate a small section of the space. 

you’ve never picked up emily from work after cases. you hadn’t even been near quantico before today. but, this case was different.

emily let you know in advance she was going undercover. it wasn’t supposed to be for long, just enough time for her and her coworker reid to investigate an underground cult in colorado. 

it was hard to avoid the details of the case when every news station in the country was reporting on it.

you were cleaning around your apartment and had the news on as background, mostly to just hear the weather report. it had switched to live footage from colorado. your stomach dropped when you remembered that’s where emily was. 

“this is a special report from la plata county, colorado.

we're reminded of jim mckay's words from munich– our greatest hopes and our worst fears are seldom realized.

let's hope it's not the latter as we wait to hear the fate of the women, children, and f.b.i.agents inside the building.”

an explosion.

you covered your mouth, stomach churning at the site. emily was inside. oh my god, emily.

you sent a long string of texts; hoping, begging, praying that she was alive. 

when your fun buzzes hours later, you race to see what the message is. it’s from emily. she was okay, a little shaken up but okay. 

tears well in your eyes. you knew her job was dangerous but this was the closest you had ever gotten to losing her. you offered to pick her up when she landed and she agreed without hesitation. 

there were a few other cars in the lot when you arrived.

they had parked relatively close to each other. you stayed a ways away. you didn’t know these people and without talking to emily, you didn’t want to introduce yourself. 

they looked familiar but you didn’t quite recognize them. there was a blonde woman and a young boy, another blonde woman with bright accessories, and then a man. who on emily’s team had a kid?

you sat on top of the hood of your car, picking at the skin around your nails as you waited. 

it didn’t take long, nor was it difficult to spot the team when they arrived; two black suv’s pulled in one after the other. 

you slid down the hood to stand up straight. you need to see her, make sure she was okay.

the team offloaded at once, each member getting out of the vehicle and distributing their luggage. 

all eyes went to emily as she stumbled out of the car and hastily grabbed her bags. she had gotten hurt on this case, it was no secret everyone wanted to check up on her. she didn’t say anything before she headed in the direction of the car that was parked slightly away from the rest.

they couldn’t exactly make out the features of the person standing beside it but the way emily walked told them they were someone important. 

you surged towards her when she was close enough, taking her face in your hands.

“oh em,” you breathed out, voice wavering with tears.

“i’m okay,” she promised, thumb wiping away the tears that fell.

emily pulled you into her, hand cradling your head as you cried. she knew this was a lot more scary for you than it was for her. 

though the team had dispersed to greet their respected family members, no one failed to see the scene unfolding in the distance.

you hugged each other like you would never be able to again. 

they all knew that emotion like that wasn’t platonic. 

3. ring

a long weekend typically warrants news from some bau member.

whether it’s about a goal jack scored in soccer or a new house derek had renovated, people always seemed to have something going on.

emily sat at her desk and she scribbled away at files. one hand gripped the pen while the other sat on her knee. she twisted a band that sat on her left ring finger. it wasn’t an engagement ring but she liked wearing it on the one finger that connected to her heart. 

atop the small gold band sat a gemstone, the one to match the month of your birth.

you had gotten the ring when on a trip. a shop you visited had sold them and you picked out one as a gift. as cliche as it was, you thought of it as a promise ring. 

despite emily not being a huge jewelry person, she wore it every day. 

the bullpen was a comfortable quiet. other members of the team sat at either their desks or in their office and worked away. the silence made it easy to focus. 

a sharp gasp sounded behind her.

penelope had entered the bullpen, presumably to say hi under the false assumption she needed another cup of coffee. both of her hands had covered her mouth, effectively covering her shocked expression. “what is that!”

emily quirked her eyebrow at what the tech analyst was talking about. she was just at her same old desk doing the same old paperwork. she finally saw penelope’s line of vision and followed it down to her hand. 

oh. it did kinda look like an engagement ring. 

it wouldn’t be the most surprising thing in the world for someone to come back engaged after a long weekend, even if no one had been aware of their relationship. 

emily barely had any time to answer before derek was circling his desk to find the source of the commotion.

“what’s all the yelling for?”

“emily has a ring. she has a ring, derek!”

derek’s eyes too fell on her hand. “woah princess! you’re getting hitched and didn’t tell us?”

“who’s getting married?”

the entire team, minus hotch and rossi who remained behind closed doors, had circled emily. 

“you didn’t tell us you were dating someone!”

emily held her hands up to silence the group. “guys, guys. it’s not an engagement ring.”

a collective sigh echoed.

“it’s just a ring with my birthstone in it. my parents got it for me when i was younger and i found it when cleaning over the weekend.” emily doesn’t feel guilty for lying. it was a simple white lie, not something detrimental. 

the explanation seems to suffice the group who then begins to disperse. 

spencer is the only one who picks up that emily’s birthstone is an opal.

and an opal is not the gem on the ring.

4. home

nobody thinks much of it when emily neglects a saturday hang out in favor of having some personal work to get done.

derek, penelope, and j.j. all get together instead.

the girls drag derek around to a few shops they want to go to before penelope stops at a window with a gasp. “oh my god, look! that mug looks exactly like the one emily broke. we have to get it.”

there was no stopping the tech analyst who had a killer memory. it wasn’t false. emily had smashed her favorite mug earlier in the week accidentally and moped for days.

“we should surprise her! she said she had some personal stuff to do so she’s definitely home.”

derek shrugs. “i don’t know, baby girl. she probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

j.j. digs around in her purse before pulling out a folder. “i did have to drop off her medical forms for her to sign.”

“you two have no boundaries.”

penelope is the one to knock on emily’s apartment door. she’s practically bursting with excitement. she loves her team and knowing how upset emily was over the mug, she can’t wait to give it. 

you’re sitting on emily’s couch when there’s a knock at the door.

the two of you haven’t officially moved in together yet, though more times than none you’re at hers. the lease on your own apartment isn’t up yet though once it is, you and her will finally be living together.

saturdays where emily is home are semi-rare. cases often stretch into weekends. she’s thankfully home today, though a few chores around the home dominated her to-do list. she worked upstairs while you relaxed on the couch. 

you were slightly confused as to who would be at the door. 

“can you get the door, baby?” emily called from upstairs. 

“got it!”

you trudged towards the entrance, sliding the peephole cover to the side to peer out. three people stood outside, two women and one man. they looked familiar. you had definitely seen them before. 

the picture emily kept of her team on the wall flashed in your memory. that and the time where you had picked her up at quantico. oh, they were members of her team. 

you finally opened the door. it was slightly amusing to see the three agents' faces twist in confusion when it was in fact not emily answering the door. 

“can i help you?” 

none of the three speak for a few moments. they’re clearly trying to rack their brain as you looked familiar to them too. 

“oh, um, yes!” the woman with colorful accessories stutters out. “is emily here?”

you open the door a little wider, motioning with your head for them to come in. once the door is closed, you leave them in the entranceway and head in a bit further.

“em!” you call up the stairs. “people are here for you!”

there’s a distance thud. “coming!”

you figure whatever they need to talk about is none of your business. when emily comes downstairs, you smile softly at her. “i’ll leave you all alone. i’ll be upstairs.”

you squeeze her shoulder when you walk by and within a minute, you’re out of sight.

“not to sound rude but why are you guys here? is the team okay?”

derek nods his head. “everything’s good, princess. though i have to ask, who was that?”

emily doesn’t have an excuse. referring to you as ‘just a friend’ feels wrong. plus, she hasn’t discussed if you’re ready for her team to know either. she then notices the package in penelope’s hand.

“what’s that?”

the original question gets blocked out by penelope’s squeal and presentation of the gift. 

derek and j.j. share a look. penelope’s not a profiler, she doesn’t pick up on some things, but emily’s deflection tells the agents all they need to know. 

they stay quiet, though both of their hearts soar.

no wonder emily has seemed so happy. 

5. case

emily’s not one to let her emotions impact a case.

she has a routine to prepare herself: kiss you goodbye, tell you she loves you, go to quantico, read the case, familiarize the victims, solve the case. all in that order.

this one throws her off. 

lgbtq couples murdered in their cars, all wearing formal clothing presumably from their date. 

emily’s mind immediately goes to you and her. though this case is states away, the unsub doesn’t have a much different mindset than a lot of people. 

she internalizes it as best she can, wanting to perform at her best to help solve this case before more people die. it works at first. emily’s able to go to the crime scene, distinguish evidence, and build a profile with ease. that is until two more bodies are discovered.

and one of them looks like you. 

j.j. pins the pictures on the board and emily’s stomach drops. she knows it’s not you. you’re miles away and you had just texted her a few minutes ago with a picture of the coffee you had gotten. but the internalized fear is very much present.

theories bounce around the room. why were these two targeted? sexuality aside, what about them was attractive to the unsub?

emily’s throat goes dry. she can’t do this anymore. 

“hotch, can i talk to you?”

the room goes quiet. hotch’s eyes flicker back and forth from rossi to j.j. before going back to emily. “of course.”

emily doesn’t stop at an empty conference room. there’s plenty in the precinct and yet they end up outside. emily sits on one of the steps and begins to toy with the ring on her finger.

hotch takes a seat beside her. 

“hotch i need to be pulled from this case.”

emily’s surprised she’s able to say the full sentence without breaking down. 

“okay,” he begins slowly. “can i ask why?”

internally, hotch knows. he picked up on emily’s behavioral change from the second the case got presented. 

“hotch, i-” the words seem to get lost on the tip of her tongue.

she shoves her palms into her eyes. she's flustered, embarrassed, scared.

she should be able to do her job. cases don’t usually get to her. it’s difficult to not feel helpless. 

a hand moves to rest on her shoulder.

“it’s okay you know.”

he doesn’t need to finish. what he’s implying is obvious.

the tears brimming in emily’s eyes spill over hot and fast. 

hotch moves closer to her, arm circling around her. all superiority dynamics have faded. it’s friend to friend, a moment of vulnerability. 

emily’s felt more accepted from his four words than she has in years.

+1 meeting

emily always goes into work before you.

between her commute with traffic and desire to get there a bit early, she’s up and running before you even get out of bed. 

naturally, you like to help her out as much as possible.

it comes in the form of packing lunch, organizing files, packing her bag (both personal and one for cases).

this morning was a complete blur. you had worked late the previous night and slept in before work. emily got ready around you, shaking you awake a few moments before she was set to leave.

when emily departed and you made your way downstairs, you noticed what she had forgotten. a brown folder stamped with the fbi logo sat next to an empty lunch bag. you frowned. file aside, you didn’t want her skipping lunch.

you took your phone out and sent her a text.

‘hi baby. you forgot a file and your lunch. can i stop by with them?’

she responds while you’re in the middle of getting dressed for the day. 

‘any chance you can bring them at noon-ish? we have meetings all morning but a break for lunch.’

you beam. seeing your girlfriend at her workplace is new. sure you’d seen pictures of the bullpen, mostly when emily showed you her desk whenever you gave her a new trinket to add, but you had never been there.

instead of packing a meal, you stopped downtown at one of emily’s favorite restaurants for take-out. a little surprise.

quantico is intimidating, even from the signage you see on the drive over. 

you park in the visitors lot and follow the instructions emily had given you on where to go. security was mandatory and a visitors pass was needed to access the floor. 

once exiting the elevator, you stood nervously. emily was at her desk, though so were her coworkers. you look out of place; reusable bag and folder in your hands and casual clothing adorning your body.

she finally looked up and out the glass door, smile enveloping her face as she raised her hand to motion for you to come in. the agents sitting at their desks naturally gravitate towards the commotion. all of them recognized you. 

the opal necklace the notice sitting around your neck suddenly makes sense. 

“any chance you can get them to stop staring?” you ask once emily stops in front of you.

“hi baby,” she muses, disregarding the question with amusement. “sorry to make you trek all the way out here.”

her hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you over to her desk. she lets you have the chair while she sits on the surface. you fight the urge to roll your chair forward and rest your head on her leg. “don’t worry about it. i brought you takeout from that thai place we like.”

emily beams. 

“you’re too good to me.”

“you deserve it.”

you stop taking the containers out of the bag and peer up at her. 

emily’s hand moves to rest on your cheek before she ducks down to kiss you gently. 

it’s revealing. you both know everyone in the room witnessed the act of public affection. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

when the team finally confronts emily, she has no problem boasting. 

“this is y/n,” emily introduces. she glances at you to which you tilt your head, lips upturned. the next two words come a moment later. “my girlfriend.”

like white lilies, this was a new beginning. one where she could be more than open about her lover. 

maybe the team's suspicion had been right, maybe some of it had been wrong. that didn’t matter now. all emily cared about could be open about your relationship. 

rebirth and purity. 

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Melissa Schemmenti

Melissa’s no good, very bad cover-up - @multimilfs

A (no good, very bad) cover-up of your own - @multimilfs

(Friends don’t) have conversations with nothing but their eyes - @multimilfs

One, Two, Three Strikes - @multimilfs

Stairway to heaven - @multimilfs

What if I say I’m not like the others? - @multimilfs

End my day with a cuddle - @lilian-maximoff

Warm in your arms - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Cramps and soup - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Care - @daddy-heather-dunbar

The kisses of Melissa Schemmenti - @multimilfs

Secret Relationship - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Mrs Schemmenti - @lilian-maximoff

Camerawoman x Melissa - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Meeting the Abbott Fam - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Melissa x reader - @milfjuulpod

Protective - @lavenderydays

I still got it - @milfjuulpod

Melissa’s crush on a new teacher - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Melissa comforting reader stressed and can’t sleep - @daddy-heather-dunbar

Do you want to tell me what happened - @daddy-heather-dunbar

The one with the girls night - @agnessharknes

Stop the world I wanna get off with you - @girlswholikehotolderwomen

Pleaser - @girlswholikehotolderwomen

I’d like to walk around in your mind - @girlswholikehotolderwomen

Comfort crowd - @girlswholikehotolderwomen

Pancakes for dinner - @girlswholikehotolderwomen

Nothing - @girlswholikehotolderwomen

Teachers aide - @number-thirteen (ao3)

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Ok I didn't think I'd write and post stuff again but here we are. This is my first time writing a reader fic. Just something that's been mulling about my mind that I wanted to get out. Also wanna call out all the other Melissa fics by @girlswholikehotolderwomen, @multimilfs, and many others on here that have been so fun to read. Thanks for writing!

Teacher's Aide Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Abbott Elementary (TV) Relationships: Melissa Schemmenti/fem!Reader Preview: You get the phone call on a Tuesday, just barely after noon. You’ve been applying to a number of jobs for the past two months, and finally it seems like there’s need for an aide at one of the public schools in town. Abbott Elementary.

There must have been some sort of hiccup, since it’s already mid-semester when the request is being made. You try to prod your supervisor for more info, but she simply says there were some issues with the previous aide sent over. Interesting. Nonetheless, you accept the job and head in the next day.

The first thing you do when you arrive in the morning is head straight to the principal’s office to report for duty. You have your trusty binder full of student resources and activities, and a fresh notebook ready.

When you get to the office, you’re surprised to find nobody there. Confused, you step out and flag down a passing teacher. “Hi excuse me, do you happen to know where the principal is?”

“Oh, Ava? She usually doesn’t get in til 10.”

“Oh.” But school starts at 8:30.

Before you could ask any further, the gentleman briskly walks away. You look around like a lost puppy.

Deciding to be resourceful, you try to look for clues around the office. Perhaps a memo or a note left for you. They told you to come in today didn’t they?

“Excuse me, can I help you?” A sharp voice cuts into your thoughts. You stop what you’re doing and look up sheepishly, a little embarrassed to be caught snooping around like this. Your eyes land on an older woman with vibrant red hair and a slightly threatening aura. You swallow nervously.

“Hi, I’m the new teacher’s aide. I’m trying to figure out where I should be.”

“Oh good. You’re with me.” She spins around and heads out to the hallway. Stunned, you stay rooted to your spot until you hear her snap back at you, “Come on kid! I don’t got all day.”

The sternness in her voice makes you scramble after her.

And that is how you first meet Melissa Schemmenti.

- Read more on Ao3

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Nothing

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa slowly realizes she’s in love with you while doing nothing together. A collection of moments

Warnings: suggestive language

Notes: I wrote this to make myself feel better

“White for you, red for me,” Melissa smiles, setting the wine glasses down on the coffee table. She takes in the sight of you curled up on her couch, wrapped up in a blanket. Her smile gets wider.

“I still don’t know why you refuse to compromise,” you smirk up at her, “rosé would be fine with me. Then you wouldn’t have to buy two bottles.”

Scoffing, Melissa drops onto the couch beside you. “Rosé is an abomination and you know it.” She takes a gulp of her pinot and pats your thigh. “Are you gonna set the game up or am I gonna stare at the blank screen until the pizza comes?”

“Tsk, tsk, Schemmenti,” your eyes roll as you reach for the remote. “Excited to lose? Or have you been practicing without me?” The tv clicks on and you load up the game.

“Schemmentis don’t lose, hon,” she presses a kiss to your forehead and chooses her character. Bowser, thank you very much.

“How come you don’t win at Mario Kart then?” Melissa grumbles at you and you laugh. “I’ll even let you pick the course.”

‘Fine,” she over-exaggerates her sigh, “moo moo meadows it is.” She watches you while you start the race.

Honestly, Melissa isn’t sure how you roped her into starting game nights. She’s known for being incredibly competitive, sometimes it scares people off so she tries not to play games with significant others. Who wants to be with someone that needs to win games all the time, especially when it has the potential to bleed into arguments? No one wants a relationship with a person who's unable to compromise or be wrong.

Melissa’s attention is torn from the race when you whoop, “Take that Wario. Little bitch,” as you hit him with a blue shell. There’s a childlike look of wonder and excitement on your face that makes her stomach feel fluttery. Maybe she should have waited to have wine until after eating.

“Mel, 10th place? Are you going to have a heart attack?” You lean in to plant a kiss on her nose. “That’s okay, you’re still first place to me.” She wasn’t even aware that the race had ended.

Somehow, she thinks she's okay with losing to you if it means you keep the smile plastered on your lips. She’d buy some rosé tomorrow.

-

“Would you still like me if I was a worm?”

She turns to you, startled. There’s no way she heard you correctly, right? But your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips pursed, and she knows you’re being serious. “How do you get to be a worm?”

You look beautiful in the Sunday morning afternoon sunshine, she thinks. But you’re absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t know, I made a wizard mad. Does it matter?” The pout you give from the other side of the bed has her hiding a laugh under the blankets.

“And how can I be sure this worm is you and not some other worm?” She asks in mock seriousness, pulling your body closer to hers for more of a snuggle.

Rolling your eyes, you huff like it should be obvious. “I think I’d be the only worm that refuses to leave your side, Mel.” Melissa very clearly imagines a little worm following her all throughout her house, leaving a slimy trail on the hardwood floors.

“Huh. Okay,” she supposes you’re right—no other worm would follow her. “Just don’t get any of your worm juice in my kitchen.”

She can tell by the frown on your face that she didn’t answer how you’d like her to. Maybe this conversation had some sort of deeper meaning to you. She supposes she can give you a more serious answer.

“I’m glad you aren’t a worm because it would be very hard to kiss you. I’m grateful to have you just how you are.” Melissa punctuates her sentences with kisses to both of your cheeks. “So grateful that we can watch whatever movie you want. Even if it’s the Notebook, no matter how stupid it is.” A kiss is given to the tip of your nose.

A grin spreads across your face as you toss the sheets from your body. “Last one to the couch has to get the snacks!” And you’re halfway down the hallway before Melissa can untangle herself from the blankets you’ve practically thrown on her. Still, she chases you as if she has a chance of winning.

Instead of snacks, Melissa cuts up some fruits and places them on a platter along with cheese and crackers. Really, she shouldn’t let you keep her in bed until noon. But if you’re not having breakfast, she’s going to make sure you get something for lunch that isn’t junk food.

She lays on the couch with you spread out on top of her, curled up and resting your cheek to her chest. It’s cozy and warm and she isn’t sure her house has ever felt more like home. She kisses your hair and watches the movie.

You know she needs to keep up her illusion of having a tough persona, so you don’t say a word when she starts crying, you just cuddle closer to her chest and hold her hand.

It isn’t pouring rain and you aren’t making out in a sailboat. She didn’t paint her house blue, but there isn’t anywhere else Melissa would want to be. There aren’t any other dumb conversations she wants to be having or any other stupid movies she wants to watch.

-

Keys jingle in her hands as she tries to get the front door open with you in her arms, trailing hot kisses along her jaw. You’re making it hard for her to concentrate on actually getting the key into the lock.

Melissa grunts in frustration, pushing you against the door for a rough kiss. She doesn’t let up until both of you are breathless and panting, her lipstick all over your face. “Be a good girl and stay there until I get this door open,” she laughs, finally able to turn the key.

She urges you inside and flips the lock on the door. The next thing you know, your back is against the door once again, a warm mouth on your neck. Shaking off your shoes, you pull her closer to you. Hands grip at the lapels of her leather jacket, tossing it somewhere far away from you.

Hot hands slip under your shirt, sliding it up over your bra. Melissa’s mouth finds its way to the swell of your breast, sucking and biting until a visible mark shows. You tug on her hair until her mouth is finally on yours, tongues tangling.

Pushing off of the door, you both stumble trying to make it past the threshold. Melissa takes the opportunity to release you from your top and unhook your bra. As inpatient as you are, your fingers blindly fiddle with the button of her pants. Her mouth is on your chest once you finally get them open and push them down her legs. They don’t get very far and she falls to the floor, bringing you with her.

Giggles erupt from both of you as you check to make sure the other is okay. Bending your neck, you suck her bottom lip into your mouth and let your teeth sink in. She lets out a sharp gasp as you release her. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmurs, following your mouth for another kiss. Really, it just makes her want you more.

Clothes are strewn across the floor, littering her home from the door to the living room. You don’t make it up off the floor until both of you are sweaty and breathing heavily. Melissa thought her days of floor sex long since passed, she isn’t exactly young anymore. She thinks that maybe you’re her exception to everything.

Smiling, her fingers run through your hair as you both catch your breath. She’s naked on the floor, you on top of her, and she doesn’t think there’s anywhere she would rather be or anything she would rather be doing. Even if her joints scream at her in the morning.

“Come on,” she playfully slaps your ass. “Let’s go shower.” Gleefully, you hop to your feet and hold out a hand to help her up.

“Round two?” You’re asking, leading her to the bathroom so quickly that Melissa struggles a bit to keep up.

“Maybe if you promise not to somehow get soap in my eyes this time.” She’s sure she will end up taking the risk.

-

“Are you almost ready?” You ask her, hands struggling to get your earring in as you walk to the bathroom to find her. You’re supposed to meet everyone at the bar in less than a half hour.

Melissa turns to look at you, her hand holding the mascara wand freezing in place. You’re stunning in your heels and that tiny top she loves. You bring a smile to her face.

She can see how the night will go. Janine will order everyone to have a few shots to get the party started. Ava will supply you with a few too many drinks, knowing how fun and carefree you can be. You and Jacob will find yourselves on top of a table, struggling to stay upright in your heels, singing some Shania Twain together. Then, you’ll get sleepy and hang all over her until she takes you home. That’s how these nights tend to go.

She wonders if maybe you could skip all that tonight and just stay home. Not that she doesn’t love going out, but she thinks she would rather stay in. Melissa worries her lip in her mouth, deciding whether to ask, and screws the mascara wand back into its container.

“What would you say to ditching our friends and having fun here instead?” She wraps her arms around your waist and gives you a kiss.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think. “I would take off these uncomfortable pants and ask what you had in mind for the night.”

She grins, amazed that you two are always on the same page. “Then I would tell you I have absolutely nothing in mind. Just want to be with you.”

You both end up pantsless on the makeshift bed you put together in front of the couch. Both of you are surrounded with the stash of goodies you’d gotten from raiding the nearby 7/11. Melissa’s tongue is dyed blue from her raspberry slurpee and there are crumbs in her lap from the bag of Doritos she has.

“No, she actually told my kindergartner self that I wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom. Do you know what I did?” You smile and take a bite of a sour gummy worm. Melissa shakes her head in amusement. “I looked her right in the face and said ‘fine. I’ll do it right here.’ And peed my pants.”

Melissa snorts, almost spitting her drink all over the blankets. You’re laughing right there with her. You aren’t even embarrassed about the story, it wasn’t your fault. “She always let me go to the bathroom after that.”

“One time,” Melissa starts, “I tried to play basketball with the older kids in the park. I was convinced I could dunk just as easily as them.” You roll your eyes. Of course she did. “Naturally I had to try to show off, and I face-planted right in front of the hoop. Never showed up there again.” She shakes her head with a mock forlorn expression.

“That’s so you,” you grin. “I wish we knew each other as kids.”

Melissa watches you try hard to get the last remaining sips out of your own slurpee, contemplating your words. She loves sitting here, doing nothing with you, the tv not even turned on. She wishes she could have known you earlier too, for the possibility of having more moments just like this.

Maybe she wants this for the rest of her life.

Her hand reaches out to smooth your hair behind an ear and her voice goes serious. “All I want to have is more time with you,” she searches your eyes before continuing, “I love you.” She doesn’t wait for a response, just cups your jaw and brings your lips to hers.

There’s nothing she’d rather do than nothing with you.

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Hey I have a major love of your work it’s insane!!

I would love you for ever if you could write a melissa schementi x female reader fic for me please! Basically, where they are together and reader, whose a teacher has a bad day after a parent yells at them so Melissa cooks for her. Reader then tells Melissa she loves her for the first time and Melissa freaks out and take a moment for her to say it back

Pancakes for Dinner

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Warnings: none :)

Notes: big fan of reader wearing Melissa’s clothes whoops. Also I want to make it clear I’m 100% team waffles

Melissa isn’t quite sure what your relationship is and, quite frankly, she’s scared to ask.

Sure, you’re sleeping together. And sure, you end up staying the night so often that it just makes sense for her to empty out a drawer for you. And buy an extra toothbrush when she’s at the store replacing her own.

Sure, sometimes you send her those videos you think she’ll find funny from the clock app. And sure, you end up having breakfast together more often than not. Really, it just makes sense for her to bring you your morning bagel and matcha. You said her toaster gets a bagel to the most perfect golden brown you’ve ever seen anyway.

So what if you kiss each other goodbye? None of it truly means anything. But she absolutely doesn’t want it to stop. She’s not about to ruin it by asking what you are. She feels that it might be too forward, or crossing some invisible boundary that neither of you talks about.

Maybe she’s on the verge of losing the carefully crafted reputation she has built of being someone to fear. She better not be going soft.

It doesn’t help that not only are you not afraid to show her affection, you choose to give it often—in public, at work, and when alone. There’s always a kiss to a cheek, a hand resting on an arm, or a head tucked under a chin for a hug. Not that she ever wants it to stop.

Her favorite thing, though, is the way you smile at her. The crinkle of the skin beside your eyes, how pretty your lips look outlining your teeth, the gentle laugh that almost always follows. She thinks if anyone threatens to take it away she would commit an act of violence.

That’s why she almost runs to your classroom the second she hears raised voices coming from your direction.

A tall man’s booming voice became more decipherable the closer Melissa got to the fourth grade hallway. “Do you even care about my child’s future? What do you do, sit around and play with kids all day and collect the money? Must be nice.” The disdain for you was as evident as the sneer on the man’s face. Melissa can’t believe he has the audacity to talk to you like that in the middle of the hallway.

“Sir, just because I don’t believe in homework for elementary students doesn’t mean that I don’t-,” Melissa thinks you’re too sweet, too good to be speaking to him in such a calm manner before he interrupts you.

The man takes a step forward, too close to you for Melissa’s tastes. She feels her blood boil and picks up her pace. “I pay my taxes, which means I pay your salary. You need to actually teach my child something. If you were a parent, maybe you would understand and be a better teacher instead of a bitch.” Instantly Melissa is between you and the man, a man she now recognizes as Mr. Butler, the father of a student she had last year. Gently, she pushes you backward with a hand splayed on your stomach, not turning away from the father for even a second.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing berating a teacher? In front of your son, no less.” Recognition crosses Mr. Butler’s face as Melissa gives him a death glare. “You should have more respect, she spends more time with Jayden than you do. Or should I let Erica know you were late to pick him up again?”

She remembers how many Wednesdays she stayed an extra 45 minutes to wait with the boy before his father decided to show up. She also knows you’ve had to stay with him as well, she’s had to wait for you to show up to her house long enough that the dinner she made had gone cold. Melissa had way too many reasons to dislike the man in front of her. Her right hand twitches into a fist at her side, ready to defend you more should he decide to disrespect you further.

You reach out to squeeze the hand still resting on your middle in thanks and reassurance before stepping to the side, letting the hand fall. “If you have an issue with my teaching methods, feel free to contact the principal to request a transfer for Jayden.” To anyone else, your voice would seem calm and collected, but Melissa has been there when you’ve cried too many times to not hear the subtle shakiness.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Melissa demands, reaching for your waist to lead you to your classroom, closing the door once you both are safely inside.

As soon as Melissa’s arms hold you to her chest, the tears in your eyes start to fall, soaking into her cotton shirt. “I’m sorry that happened. Are you okay?” Her hands run soothing caresses over your back, helping you to calm down. Taking a deep breath, you nod into her neck.

You lift your head and she carefully wipes the remaining tears from your cheeks. “Can we go home now?”

Melissa gives you a soft smile and kisses your forehead. “Of course we can. We just have to stop in my room for my bag.” She takes your hand and doesn’t let go before you get into the car.

-

It isn’t until Melissa pulls the car into her driveway that she realizes neither of you specified which home. She glances towards the passenger seat to search for a reaction that her home was not where you meant. She finds none and lets out a tiny sigh of relief.

Once inside, Melissa practically drags you to her bedroom, pushing you into sitting on the edge. “Stay here,” she commands, but upon seeing your pout she amends, “I’ll be right back. Promise,” and then she’s gone.

She keeps her promise, striding back into the room before two minutes is up. The redhead carries a wet washcloth in her hand, ready to take your makeup off. “Chin up, hon.” Her words and her hands are gentle with you, things you know other people don’t have the privilege of receiving.

After finishing, she disappears again, this time to her closet. She comes back out with a pile of clothing, your favorite Flyers sweatshirt of hers included. Melissa knows you love to wear her clothes, sometimes stealing some before going to your own place. And if you show up to work the next day wearing one of her blouses, she pretends not to notice. She thinks you look better in it anyway.

Slowly, she undresses you. It’s not rushed and messy like it usually is before a mouth or hands are all over you. Instead, she’s careful as she unbuttons your top and unhooks your bra, light kisses peppering every inch of skin she reveals. Your eyes are closed, taking in the adoration the older woman is showering you with. A kiss is pressed to your lips before pulling away. “Get dressed and I’ll make you something to eat.”

-

Melissa sets you up on the couch with some supplies—hair tie, a filled water bottle, your favorite blanket, the tv on and Food Network playing—before going to change herself.

You smile at how caring she’s being right now. Really, the situation wasn’t bad enough to garner all this attention from her, but how could you pass up some Schemmenti doting? Instead of watching what’s going on in the show, you curl up in the blanket and face the kitchen where Melissa is rummaging through cabinets for something to make.

“Pancakes?” She asks, holding up the Hungry Jack’s mix. “I bought more of that blueberry syrup you like the other day,” she assures you, a playful smile on her lips. “I know it isn’t the healthiest dinner, but I think we deserve it.” She winks and you nod your acceptance.

Melissa cares for you in a lot of quiet ways. She makes sure her kitchen is stocked with your favorite syrup, that she has the makeup remover you prefer, and that she washes the pillowcase on your side of the bed every week. The fact that you even have a side of the bed, let alone a whole drawer and a toothbrush, says a lot. You don’t mind that it isn’t always vocal. Sometimes love can just be pancakes for dinner.

-

Melissa waits for the pancakes to bubble, watching you as you relax on her couch. She remembers how you convinced her to remove the plastic cover—it is NOT comfortable to make out on, Mel—and wonders when, exactly, she fell in love with you. Realistically, she knows she may be doing too much. But most of the time she feels that she isn’t necessarily allowed to love you in the big ways, afraid of scaring you off. The situation today gives her a fantastic excuse and she’s going to take it.

She burns the first batch.

The second batch, thankfully, is perfect. She carries two plates full of pancakes—one drenched in blueberry syrup, the other topped with a more normal amount—to the couch to eat with you. “We can watch The Parent Trap, if you want,” Melissa suggests.

“Really?” You ask. Usually, Melissa grumbles about how you fawn over Chessy, and you notice even though she thinks she hides it well. She smiles at you and grabs the remote to open Disney Plus. It hits her in that moment, you’re leaning against her side, sideways on the couch, that’s she doesn’t have an account. Yours is the one logged in on her tv. The domesticity of it all makes her heart ache.

Discarded plates sit on the coffee table and you’ve repositioned yourself to lay in Melissa’s lap so she can play with your hair. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight. You really didn’t have to,” you tell her.

She turns her attention from the movie. “I like doing it,” she shrugs. “I’ll always defend you, whether you need it or not.” It’s true and you know it.

“What if he was right? What if I’m doing my students a disservice?” It comes out small and unsure.

“Don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, those kids love you. Mr. Butler is just trying to deflect from not caring about his son enough to pick him up on time. Don’t let him get to you.” She kisses your forehead and holds you tighter.

Melissa moves her head in the direction of the tv once again, and you take the time to study her. She’s beautiful, protective, caring, and absolutely adores you. You’re not sure how you ever got this lucky. “I love you, Mel.” It’s out of your mouth before you realize what you’re saying. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you stare up at her from her lap to watch her reaction.

Melissa blinks, eyes not leaving the screen. And blinks again. She’s sure she couldn’t have heard you properly. “What?” She needs clarification before her heart beats out of her chest.

“I’m in love with you,” you say with conviction. What’s the point of taking it back? It’s true and she deserves to know. Green eyes stare at you in shock, her body frozen. Twisting so you can see her face more clearly, you wait for a response.

“How?” She says it quietly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

“What do you mean? Isn’t that the goal when you’re dating someone?” Now you’re both confused, staring at each other quizzically.

“Dating? We’re…dating?” Her utter disbelief is endearing, but her hesitation over believing you starts to dissolve. Desperately, Melissa racks her brain trying to ascertain when she had died in one final attempt to not get her hopes up.

“Baby, we’ve been sleeping together and going on dates for months. What else would you call it? I spend more time here than my actual apartment,” you laugh.

It hits her like a ton of bricks that she’s been worried about absolutely nothing. This entire time she thought it was just sex for you, hopelessly wishing for the day you might want more. “Say it again.”

Her eyes are full of wonder and you’re afraid your words will come out choked at the love you see there. “I love you.”

Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, she doesn’t understand how this is real life. “I love you too,” she’s pulling you in for a kiss, and it tastes like pancakes for dinner.

[this-is-good-and-gay]

hi i really love your fics and was just wondering if you could write a melissa x reader fic that’s also based on the halloween episode or any episode really. just you know how melissa always says to janine we’re your work friends but we’re not actually friends. and reader and melissa who are not in a relationship yet but sort of have feelings for each other also only see each other at the school.

and one day reader is upset about something personal and melissa asks what’s wrong and reader who also feels slightly upset when melissa says to janine that they’re not friends says to her we’re not friends i don’t have to tell you why im upset and melissa just acts on her feelings.

Comfort Crowd

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Warnings: a little angsty, but turns into more hurt/comfort

Notes: I’m not exactly happy with how this turned out, but I wanted to get it out there. I’m hoping to revisit it later and add more finesse. ❤️

Melissa would never admit it, if anyone were to ask, how attuned to you she’d become. She would deny it if anyone brought up how her expression brightens whenever you walk into the room or how her voice softens when she speaks to you. She could lie to everyone else but she couldn’t lie to herself.

That didn’t mean she would let anyone else think she was going soft. That’s why, when Janine got a bit too chummy one afternoon, she decided she needed to give everyone a reminder.

“Look, Janine, we’re not friends. Sure we’re friendly here because we’re at work and have to see each other every day. But outside of here? There aren’t going to be any hang outs or fun girl chats over the phone.” Melissa sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t mean anything bad by it, but the ‘friendship’ we have at school doesn’t translate to the outside world.”

You feel yourself flinch at the harsh reminder of who Melissa Schemmenti really is. Everyone told you when you started that trying to get close to Melissa was a fool’s errand. ‘Closed-off’ is how they put it, but that was just a nice way of saying she most likely wouldn’t bother looking in your direction, let alone talk to you.

Somewhere, though, the lines had been crossed. It could have been the early mornings that clued you into thinking she may not be as cold as you were led to believe. Most mornings you two were the first to arrive, often at the same time. She never said anything to you, but she always held the door open, not giving you the chance to ever return the favor.

The best course of action, you thought, was to treat the situation as if the redhead was a scared, homeless dog. If you wanted either to trust you, you needed to consistently show that you wouldn’t hurt them, and a treat never hurt.

A crisp fall morning maybe a month into the door-holding routine, you get up an hour earlier than your usual alarm. Heading to Starbucks with your extra time, you order two drinks and wait in the school parking lot until Melissa shows up.

This time, when she holds the door open for you, a warm beverage is placed into her grasp before she can protest. Thus began the new pattern. In the mornings you would stop for two coffees, and even though you were getting less sleep, the satisfied smile at her first sip of coffee each morning made it worthwhile.

Melissa wasn’t one to be outdone. Only a week after the first time you brought her a coffee, a white paper bag is shoved into your hands in exchange for the warm cup. Upon further inspection, you find the redhead had stopped at the diner across the street to get you the same danish you would buy for yourself on Fridays.

Morning coffee and danishes turned into silent breakfasts in Melissa’s room as you both got your lesson plans ready for the day. Breakfasts turned into Melissa bringing you lunch on Wednesdays and you baking your famous brownies to give her on Thursdays. Exchanging homemade food turned into chatting almost exclusively to each other at lunch. Chatting turned into being practically inseparable, turned into flirty comments and lingering glances.

Everyone else was right, you saw it now. You were stupid to think it meant as much to her as it does to you. Scoffing, you criticize yourself for catching feelings. So she has the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen and talks to you in the sweetest voice you could imagine. So what? Melissa was right, there aren’t any hang outs after school or weekend phone calls. Not even a measly text exchange. Honestly, you’re not sure either of you has the other’s phone number.

You force your throat to swallow the lump that formed there, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. It was a painful realization of who Melissa really is, not who you thought she was. Her words weren’t directed towards you, but your heart constricted as if they were.

Slinking into the hallway to hurry to your classroom while everyone else is occupied with the argument happening between Melissa and Janine, you grab your lunch and toss it in the hallway garbage can. It’s not like you could stomach anything anyway.

It doesn’t take long for the redhead to notice that you’ve gone missing from the room. Figuring you just made a trip to the restroom, she relaxes into her chair. The more minutes that tick by, the more she tenses up. She tries to fight the anxiety and panic that wells up in her chest, but eventually she caves into it.

“Alright, have any of you seen her? Where’d she go?” She practically growls and stalks out of the room when she doesn’t get an immediate reply.

No one needs to ask who she’s referring to.

-

Reaching the safety of your classroom, you lock the door and turn off the light, wanting to be alone with your feelings before the students would inevitably return from recess. A sigh leaves your lips and you rest your head in your palms.

Outside your door, you hear footsteps approaching and a few gentle raps at the wood. It was Melissa, you knew. Not having the energy to give her your usual smile and banter she’d come to expect from you, you kept still and pretended not to hear. Her hand goes up to knock again but she thinks better of it and eventually you hear the same footsteps walking away, getting quieter until the noise is gone.

A wave of relief washes over you. You’ve never been the best at hiding your emotions, and Melissa has always seen right through any attempts. There was no possibility you could endure the conversation that would undoubtedly happen if she saw you like this. You couldn’t say you broke my heart and hear her say back we’re not even friends.

Taking a deep breath, you wipe the tears from your face and prepare to see your class soon. You could be a big girl about this. Because really, Melissa hasn’t done anything wrong. It was your own fault for reading into things, you know it, but you can’t help but feel a little like your emotions had been played with.

The rest of the school day dragged on, your thoughts drifting to Melissa’s words each time your hands weren’t actively doing something. Once the last of your kids had left, you rushed to gather your belongings and make it to your car before Melissa could try walking you out.

The next morning you intentionally arrive only five minutes before the bell rings to signify the beginning of the school day. Thankfully, Melissa isn’t standing outside your classroom waiting for you to show up like you were worrying about on the drive there.

When lunch rolls around, you have to get more creative to avoid her. If you didn’t show up to the break room, she might come looking for you. Obvious places would be your classroom, your car, or the bathrooms. Instead, you hide out in the one place Melissa Schemmenti is scared to go-Ava’s office.

-

Taking your lunches in Ava’s office isn’t that bad. It’s not great and you don’t get any homemade pasta on Wednesdays, but you can live with it. Ava is inherently charming and effortlessly funny, offsetting the tinge of melancholy in your demeanor. You think she doesn’t mind the company during your lunches either; she routinely bounces ideas off of you for new ways to make money and regales you with stories of whatever boy she went out with the night before.

Apparently you thought wrong again.

“You can’t keep doing this. Your Eeyore attitude is killing my vibe.” She kicks you out against your protests. Somehow it feels like you’re doing the walk of shame as you leave the principal’s office.

Sighing, you make the split second decision to move towards the break room. You can’t hide forever, you may as well face it and get over it.

The second you walk in you feel her eyes on you. You’re amazed with the willpower you exhibit by not looking in her direction. The other teachers greet you and you smile back at them knowing full well it doesn’t reach your eyes. A free table in the back catches your eye, you’re hoping to stay away from any prying questions. Although you try valiantly not to, your ears pick up everything that Melissa says. Fighting the urge to go to her, to ask her how she is, you pick at the sad sandwich you brought.

“Here, have this. It’s my homemade sundried tomato pesto fettuccine,” your head snaps up and she’s handing your Wednesday pasta to Janine, the woman she said she wasn’t friends with not even two weeks prior. It’s your favorite dish, one she learned specifically for you after a single offhand comment about it, but you have absolutely no claim over it or her.

And that’s what breaks you.

Too emotional to bother being subtle about it, you hurry from the break room before you start crying in front of your colleagues. You don’t pay attention to where your legs are taking you until you wind up in an empty hallway. Leaning against the brick wall, you give yourself a minute to breathe then slide down to the floor. Tears prick at your stinging eyes, prompting you to scold yourself for acting like a toddler who got their favorite toy taken away.

Hugging your legs to your chest, you allow your head to fall to your knees. Through your deep breaths you can make out the sound of footsteps entering the hallway. A warm body seats itself close enough to yours that you can smell her perfume. You don’t look up.

An arm wraps around you and tugs you closer to her. Fingers run through your hair until your tears subside. You hate that she can still calm you down with just her presence in the matter of seconds.

“Does this have anything to do with the guy you’ve been seeing?” The hard edge in her voice tells you exactly what would happen if your answer was yes. Your head snaps up to look at her.

“What are you talking about?” A look crosses her face that you’ve never seen on her before, something like a mix between pain and understanding.

“Well,” she starts off slowly, “you’re rushing out of here every afternoon like you’ve got somewhere to be, you get here as late as you can, and you’re not at lunch anymore,” she shrugs. “Obviously you’re seeing someone. And if you were into women, you’d be with me,” she laughs like it’s a joke and you appreciate that she’s trying to make you feel better.

“I’ve stolen one too many looks down your shirt not to be into women,” now you’re both smiling at each other, soft snorts filling the otherwise quiet hallway. It’s eerily reminiscent of the times you spent together before this whole mess happened. Both of you quickly sober up at the thought, leaving the space between you silent again as the mood drops.

“Then what are you doing with him?” She sounds uncharacteristically small when she speaks, the why aren’t you with me? going unspoken.

“I’m not with some guy, Mel.” There’s no way you could let her think there’s someone out there you could want more than her, regardless of whether she wants you back or not.

“Talk to me then, what’s going on?” She pauses, giving you time to answer but you don’t take it. “You’re avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” She tries again, eyes pleading with you to let her help you somehow.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re not friends anyway,” it comes out with more vitriol than you originally intended. You stand from your position on the floor, suddenly feeling much too close to her than you’re comfortable with at the moment.

“We’re not friends? What the hell does that mean?” Melissa follows you to her feet, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The fire in her eyes reminds you that she’s someone you shouldn’t cross, but in the moment you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“You tell me. You’re the one that said it.” You meet her gaze with the same amount of fire. Getting burned didn’t seem like it could be worse than the pain you’re already feeling.

Confusion crosses her expression. “Wait, that’s what this is about?” She sounds soft again, the fight dissipating from her. “What I said to Janine? Come on, you know better. That didn’t have anything to do with you.”

“No, you were right. We’re not friends,” you’re holding your ground, not wanting to let hope rise in your chest just to have it taken away again. “Our relationship exists completely within the four walls of the school. I’m not important enough to see what you look like outside of here or to have my number saved in your phone. I never should’ve thought I could get a date from you.” A bitter laugh punctuates your sentence before the realization of what exactly you just said hits you.

“You-…is that something you want?” Her hand comes up to rest on the brick wall beside your head, leaning in closer to you to make sure you can hear her with how soft she’s speaking. Your gaze lands on the floor, trying to come up with a lie to cover up your slip. “No, hey, look at me. All those things you just said. Is that what you want?” Green eyes flit between yours, desperately searching for any semblance of an answer.

“Of course that’s what I-,” you’re cut off by warm lips pressing to yours, the hand at her side traveling up to cup your jaw. The kiss starts off frantic, as if she’s worried you’ll realize what you’re doing just to push her off and never let her do it again.

It surprises her when you kiss back, but it’s Melissa Schemmenti’s tongue in your mouth, how could you not? Both realizing that the other isn’t going anywhere, the needy movement of lips slows to something soft, almost romantic. Your breathing grows ragged as you pull her closer to you by the lapels of her jacket. She responds by pressing your body into the way behind you, the hand at your jaw now tangling in your hair.

She pulls away for a breath, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “Anything else upsetting you?”

“You gave Janine my pasta.” A wholehearted laugh erupts from her chest and she pulls you close for a fierce hug, a hand cradling your head to her. Smiling, she takes your hand in hers to walk you back to your classroom.

“I can fix that too.”

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Howdy! I have a (shamelessly self-indulgent) fic idea/request, but also no pressure if it’s not your speed🙂

I’d love a Melissa x Reader fic where Mel and Janine take the students on a field trip to a museum, with R being their tour guide. Mel subtly flirts with R, asks them a lot of questions, compliments them on their knowledge, and then asks them to dinner or something along those lines at the end.

Thanks in advance!😊

I’d Like to Walk Around in your Mind

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Warnings: none! just flirting and fluff, your teeth may fall out

Notes: ngl I based reader on myself sry not sry. I’ve actually released baby sturgeon like I mention in this fic. It was really fun, dm me if you’re interested in seeing pics or vids!

“Alright second graders! Listen up,” Melissa calls out over the horde of seven year olds in front of the science museum. “Before we go in, I want to make sure you all are going to be respectful and listen to our tour guide.” Eyes narrowed, she uses the stern look on her face to remind a few troublemakers who they’re dealing with.

Janine shoots her a look from beside her, urging her not to be too harsh. Sighing, Melissa relents. “And have fun or whatever.” Her eyes roll and she turns to lead everyone into the building. When all the students are packed in the museum’s lobby she turns back to Janine. “You watch the kids, I’m gonna go let them know we’re here.”

Janine is a good teacher, but she can get on Melissa’s nerves. She already talked through the whole bus ride there, listing all the exhibits she wanted to make sure they saw but named practically every single one. Not sure how she would survive the day, Melissa jumped at the opportunity to have a few minutes alone.

Stepping up to the front desk, she notes no one is there and resigns herself to waiting for an employee to make their way back. Melissa loathes being kept waiting for anything, especially if it’s something she’s paying for. God she hopes the day goes by quickly.

“Can I help you? Have you been waiting long?” She whips back around towards the desk at the sound of the sweet and concerned voice. The annoyance Melissa felt at having to wait drained from her body when she noticed who had spoken, deciding she wouldn’t complain because it was likely all the alone time she would get today until her drive home. Not because of how adorable you look with your brows furrowed and head tilted slightly to the right in worry.

Not receiving an answer and not able to decipher the look on the redhead’s face you ask, “did you and your family have a tour scheduled?”

She blinks twice to gather herself, she half expected the tour guide to be some older, graying man that loves to hear himself talk too much for his own good. She certainly wasn’t expecting you. “Uh, no, no family. I’m Melissa Schemmenti,” she offered, expecting that to be all the information you needed.

“Hello, Melissa Schemmenti. How can I help you?” Your lips spread into a grin at the information as you lean your palms on the desk in front of you, waiting for a reply. Melissa wasn’t the average museum-goer. Usually, the science center was filled with haphazard looking mothers desperately trying to curtail young children, not gorgeous redheaded women.

“I’m with Abbott Elementary, we had a tour scheduled for one o’clock today.” She watches as you glance quickly at your watch, to realize it’s a quarter past. Shuffling a few papers on the desk, you find the one you’re looking for and give it a once over.

“It looks like your tour guide was supposed to be Jeremy. He went home sick, unfortunately.” Melissa’s slight frown had you rushing to recover her smile. “But I’m free right now, I’ll just fill in. Don’t worry,” you blurt out, telling yourself you just don’t want any kids to be disappointed.

Melissa leads you towards the mass of children and Janine. “Can everyone say hello to our lovely tour guide?” You’re visibly delighted by the gleeful ‘hellos’ and the palpable excitement that only children seem to have and return it in vigor.

“Hi friends! I’m so excited to show you around my favorite place in the world today,” happiness oozing from your words. Melissa watches you greet each individual child, asking each their name and favorite part about science. She wonders how it’s possible to be so endearing.

Janine glances towards her, seeing the softest look she’s ever seen on Melissa’s face. Once you start leading the students towards the first exhibit, she grabs onto Melissa’s arm so they trail back from the group. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Melissa plants a scowl on her face, cursing herself for being so obvious about her little crush.

Janine’s eyes widen at the defensiveness. “Oh my god, you like her, don’t you?”

“Of course not,” the redhead scoffs. “This museum was just my favorite as a kid.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Her grandpa used to bring her at least once a month when she was younger. Science was always her favorite subject, it was more about doing than sitting in class and listening for eight hours.

A slow smile creeps onto Janine’s face, definitely not believing her excuse. “Don’t you dare try anything, I can see that you’re planning something. I will push you into one of the tanks.” With that, Melissa hurried after the tour, wanting out from Janine’s gaze and to not miss a word you say.

-

“This here is the Bog Turtle. Do you see how small he is?” You hold up the small creature in your hands, walking through the kids to let each one feel his shell. Melissa raises her hand from the back of the group. “Yes, Ms. Schemmenti?”

“And how big do bog turtles grow?” She asks, despite knowing the answer. She has a surprising amount of knowledge regarding the animals, having found some in the creek behind her house one summer. She spent the whole month of July with her nose in a book, hoping to identify the little guys.

“They won’t grow more than four inches. They’re actually the smallest turtle alive in the western hemisphere. Because of how small they are, bog turtles are often hurt accidentally, so much so that they are on the endangered species list.” By the end of your spiel, you’re in front of Melissa with the turtle. Her smile turns into one with such a childlike innocence that you feel your heart clench.

“Do you want to hold him?” You’re rewarded with the cutest look of excitement and gratitude on her face.

“Can I really?” Nodding, you give her an encouraging smile and place the small creature gently into her open palms. The snicker from Janine causes you to look up and remember that you’re supposed to be leading a tour for the whole class, not just one woman.

“Why don’t you guys try to find Hamilton the frog in the big tank? He’s small and shy, but he might come out if you look hard enough!” The squeals of laughter as the kids rush to the glass have you smiling wistfully, wishing you could come to the science museum for the first time again.

“You’re good with them,” Melissa says once you’re alone. “You probably have all the parents fawning over you—cute, smart, and the kids actually listen to you without interrupting.”

Your laugh relaxes you and lean on the wall only inches from her. “It’s easy to do for one day. I’m new and exciting to them. I have so much respect for you to do it everyday. I am the way I am because of amazing teachers like you.”

Her eyes find yours and you can’t seem to want to look away. It most likely lasts too long, only broken by gleeful chants of “we found him!”

-

For the next few exhibits, Melissa finds herself glued to your side, content to listen to all the random facts you spout while walking through the museum. The way you smile at her each time you catch her watching you while you speak and she asks appropriate questions has her heartbeat racing.

“What’s your favorite exhibit here?” Melissa asks while the children are busy identifying the fish in the aquarium. The blue light that filters into the exhibit from the water casts you in an almost ethereal glow; she can’t look away.

You turn away from the fish swimming past the glass in front of you to look at her. She’s leaning against the railing, hands in her pockets and bottom lip between her teeth as she waits for your response. All of her attention has been on you since she arrived. It should be embarrassing how special it makes you feel but you can’t seem to make yourself care.

“We have a touch tank of baby shortnose sturgeon that I absolutely adore,” you hesitate before saying more, afraid of rambling in front of Melissa.

“Take me to see it? I want to hear all about it,” she sounds genuinely hopeful and you’ve never felt more cared for in your life. Grinning, you lead the group to the exhibit with the touch tank with a certain teacher’s hand on the small of your back. The butterflies low in your belly don’t settle even when she pulls away.

“Did you guys know there are dinosaurs still living in Pennsylvania?” You ask the students. “Sturgeon are magnificent creatures that have been alive for 200 million years. That’s older than your grandma!”

The raucous laughter from not only the kids but Melissa as well makes pride swell in your chest before continuing. “Shortnose sturgeon are found right here in Philly, living in the Delaware River. You probably won’t see one when you’re there because they’re bottom-feeders and endangered, just like the bog turtle we saw before.”

Turning your attention back to the children you whisper as if you’re letting them in on a secret, “if you guys wash your hands and promise to be respectful, I’ll let you touch the little sturgeon we have in this tank!”

Standing back to ensure the children are being gentle with the animals, Melissa strides over to you, a knowing look on her face. “Sturgeon, huh? How do you have so many babies if they’re endangered?” She’s surprised to find herself genuinely curious, but your passion seems to be contagious. The question earns her another of your shy smiles.

Neither of you notices as Janine smirks knowingly and leads the children out of the room and into the next exhibit, too absorbed in your conversation.

“We have a hatchery right here on the museum’s campus, actually. We harvest the eggs and raise the babies until they’re old enough to release back into the wild,” you watch as Melissa listens intently, soft eyes and head resting in her palm.

“You know,” you start slowly, unsure, “we usually release them sometime in October. Do you—would you want to, maybe, come back? With the kids, I mean,” a nervous laugh snakes its way out of your mouth. “There’s a slide that we use to release them, I think they would find it really fun. It’s nice for awareness too; if more people knew about sturgeon they would be more mindful of water pollution and overfishing. And I think I just talked for a minute straight, I’m sorry,” your gaze meets your feet, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“No, no,” Melissa rushes out. “Don’t be sorry. I lo-like hearing you talk. I think that’s a great idea. You, do you-,” she hesitates. “You wouldn’t mind seeing this old lady again?”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff at her. “You’re not old! You’re perfect, Melissa,” and suddenly you can look anywhere but at her.

“Please,” she places her hand on your arm to urge you to turn back towards her. “If anyone here is perfect, it’s you.” She’s smiling at you again and you struggle to not lean a few inches forward to find out how it feels against your own.

“Oh, Director, there you are. That elementary school never showed-,” you jump back at the interruption of a tour guide. “Up,” he finished lamely. The heat of a blush immediately makes itself known, your hand rubbing the back of your neck as Melissa shoots you a look.

“Nevermind. I’ll just…go,” the tour guide scurries away, leaving you and Melissa alone once more. It’s the first time either of you notice Janine and the kids are gone.

“So director, huh?” She playfully bumps into your shoulder with her own. “How’d I get so lucky?” You feel your nerves deflate at the realization that she’s not angry with you for misleading her.

“I guess you could say I run the ecology department of the museum,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“And do you give tours often or am I just special?” She prods, wanting her suspicion confirmed. Her pinky catches yours on the railing outside of the touch tank.

You release the breath you’ve been holding. “This is my first actually. I think I just wanted to impress a pretty girl.”

“Let me take you to dinner tonight. I want to hear how you became a director so young,” Melissa is so earnest with her proposal, there’s no way you could ever decline.

“I—really? That sounds fantastic.” And you’re standing there, smiling stupidly at each other, pinkies linked.

Melissa holds out her elbow for you to take. “Great, now let’s find those second graders.”

Maybe Melissa would need to buy Janine a fruit basket.

[this-is-good-and-gay]

hi!! love your writing could i request a melissa x younger!reader where she’s all shy and nervous around reader bc she has a huge crush but doesn’t think reader would ever go for her even tho reader flirts with her all the time!! cut to reader kissing her and then getting together but i’ll leave specifics to you:)

Pleaser

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Warnings: none

Notes: I absolutely loved writing this, it’s one of my favorite works so far. I really want to do a part 2 if you guys are interested! Lmk

Melissa thinks she must be having a midlife crisis.

Lately, she hasn’t been feeling herself. When she looks in the mirror she sees graying hairs, laugh lines, and a softer stomach. She sees an old lady. So she signed up for yoga thinking the exercise would help her feel more confident, but being in downward dog for too long makes her head hurt. She tried taking a painting class one night at the library, but she doesn't have the patience to add in all the necessary details. Bottom line, she feels boring and borderline elderly.

The biggest hint of all towards her midlife crisis theory is her very first crush on a woman. Sure, she’d thought women were hot before. But she married young and didn’t get a chance for much experimenting beforehand. It took her a while to stop feeling hurt after the divorce then after that no woman caught her eye enough for her to have any sort of feelings for one.

Until Ava hires a new eighth grade science teacher. A hot, young, endlessly flirty eighth grade science teacher. At first, Melissa thinks she is just jealous of you. You have so much energy it’s intoxicating. Always running around the school like it doesn’t even phase you. You’re incredibly progressive, always taking care to make sure every type of student is welcome in your classroom. It works, they feel like you’re a safe place, and Melissa thinks it’s because you’re young enough that you can relate to them. She wishes she knew how to do that. It was only the past month that she learned what a ‘TikTok’ is. One of the students helped her make an account, and if they had followed your profile on her behalf, so be it.

She starts to think she’s wrong about being jealous when you begin flirting with her. First were the glances in her direction whenever you were in the same room. Then, since the whole staff became enamored with you extraordinarily fast, you were invited to parties and hangouts outside of school where you got to know each other. You have this quality that makes whoever you’re talking to feel like they’re the only person in the world. Eye contact, soft smiles, a squeeze of her hand when she said something you found particularly funny.

Once you were both more comfortable around the other, an odd sort of friendship commenced. Your flirting became more obvious and more frequent. Upon seeing Melissa you almost always greet her with some sort of compliment, to which she rolls her eyes and otherwise ignores. No matter the situation, you find a way to touch her and let it linger as long as possible.

Melissa figures out she absolutely, no doubt in her mind, has a crush on you…well, right now. You sauntered into the break room as usual, checked her out incredibly obviously, and lowered your voice to say, “hey gorgeous. How’s my favorite girl?”

Without waiting for a reply, you seat yourself sideways on her lap. Your arms snake themselves around her neck before you give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Melissa automatically has one arm around your back to keep you steady, palm resting at your waist. Her other hand has a hold of a thigh, thumb caressing it through your jeans. When one of your hands finds its way into her hair to scratch at her scalp, well, that must be her breaking point.

You’re carrying on a conversation with Barbara about weekend plans that Melissa, for the life of her, cannot concentrate on. Your body is warm and she finds herself hyper aware of every place that you’re touching. She can smell remnants of your shampoo-citrus and vanilla-mixing with the honey scent of your favorite perfume. She can’t quite get herself to hate that it feels so familiar to her, almost like home. You’re just so close that she’s reduced to a red and blushy blubbering mess. How is she supposed to think with your fingers doing that?

Desperately she tries to calm her rapid heartbeat down. She tells herself that there’s no way you return her feelings, that flirting with her is just how you deal with your mommy issues. There’s a dark part of her deep down that says it’s funny for you, a joke that anyone would find her attractive. She swallows hard, trying to push the thought away. You’re kind and sweet, the furthest thing from cruel.

“Mel, baby, are you listening?” Your voice jerks her from her thoughts, head whipping in the direction of yours. Suddenly, your noses are only a hair's breadth apart and she’s having a hard time breathing.

“Hm?” Is all she can muster in response, eyes lost in the depths of yours. They twinkle and shine and she thinks she’d die happy if this was her last moment.

You grin and giggle at her obliviousness, hand threading through her hair instead of continuing to massage her scalp. “Barbs and I wanted to know if you were going to come with us tomorrow. We were thinking of seeing that new Julia Roberts movie, the romcom?”

It makes it hard for her to formulate an answer, the way you’re playing with her hair. She can’t help but to think of…other reasons your hands could be in her hair like that. It’s impossible not to when you’re in such close proximity and she can see all the way down your blouse at this angle. Swallowing thickly, she’s able to get out a hoarse reply. “Sure. I’d love to.”

“Great,” you smile widely just for her. “I’ll even let you pick me up like it’s a real date.” She knows that you’re kidding, she does. But she so badly wants it to be a real date.

Squeezing your hip and thigh at the same time, you know she means it when she says, “anything you want, love.”

-

She sits in her car outside of your place for an absurd amount of time, debating whether or not the flowers you bought are too much for your not-really-a-date date. Eventually she decides the probability of a smile from you is worth the risk of any humiliation she may face.

You open your front door to her almost throwing the flowers in your hands. “I saw these and thought of you,” she says as if she didn’t make a special trip to the store for them. “Potted, not cut, just how you like,” and there’s such a pretty blush on her cheeks when she’s nervous.

Once the pot is in a safe place—the windowsill in your kitchen—you make your way back to the front room where Melissa waits for you. She gets a better look at you now that she isn’t worried about the flowers. She thinks she likes the way you look on the weekend the best. Your casual clothes consist of a nice pair of leggings, an oversized sweater that almost hangs off your shoulders, hair tied up in a messy bun, glasses to give your eyes a break from contacts, and bare feet. You look so soft like this, so warm.

Your arms wrap around Melissa’s neck and her own automatically tangle at your lower back. “It means a lot to me that you remembered. Thank you, beautiful.” She almost stops breathing when your hands cup her cheeks and you lean in like you’re going to kiss her senseless. Your lips land on her cheek, just at the edge of her mouth, and lingers. Her heart doesn’t realize it wasn’t an actual kiss, its beating suddenly erratic.

“Ready to go?” At her nod you entwine your fingers together for the walk to her car. You only let go once you absolutely have to to get in. After buckling, you replace the missing contact with a hand wrapped around her elbow while she drives to the theater.

Inside, you and Barbara head to the ladies room while Melissa is in charge of securing tickets. When you exit the bathroom, Melissa is waiting for you, an all-the-flavors-combined Icee that’s big enough to share and a box of Reese’s Pieces in hand. Exactly what you like. You’re not sure you’ve ever had to say anything twice for her to remember.

The lights dim after the last trailer plays and the movie begins. Melissa feels like a horny teenager the way her arm twitches in want, urging her to fake a yawn and drape said arm along the back of your seat. She notices the way you’re practically curled into the armrest that separates you and decides to go for it, minus the fake yawn. If anything, she knows you find comfort in her touch.

It only takes a few minutes for you to carefully remove your shared Icee from the cup holder between you and place it in the spot to your right. Ever so slowly, as to not make it squeak, you lift the armrest up, leaving no barrier between you and Melissa. Without a word she tugs you closer to her body. You let your arms wrap around her middle as you cuddle into her and rest your head on her shoulder. A sigh of contentment leaves your lips when she presses a kiss to your hair.

The end credits roll and Melissa can’t remember a single detail about the movie, too busy basking in your touch. You say goodbye to Barbara before walking to Melissa’s car arm in arm. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Barbs to death, but I love having you all to myself more.” You say it as if it’s not the most important thing anyone has ever said to her. Melissa has to remind herself that you’re real and that she’s someone important to you and none of this is fake.

“Does that mean you would be interested in coming over? I think I have all the ingredients for your favorite risotto.”

-

Melissa’s house is probably your favorite place in the world. It’s cozy, warm, and smells like a mix of her and basil. She always makes sure to have the lights low just the way you like it so they don’t hurt your eyes. And, well, it’s got her.

“I’m going to change, you left some stuff here last time if you want to stay over tonight,” she says, looking back at you as she heads to her bedroom. She already knows what your response will be. You pout at her words, giving her what you hope are very convincing puppy dog eyes. It’s less than five seconds before she caves. “Fine, come on, I’ll get it out for you.”

You grin as she hands you her favorite oversized crewneck sweatshirt and a pair of fuzzy socks. The sweatshirt seems like it’s drowning you, landing almost halfway down your thighs. Melissa doesn’t know how she’s going to survive the night with the knowledge that all you’re wearing is her sweatshirt and a pair of socks.

You’re sitting on the counter near the stove, kicking your legs to the beat of whatever record Melissa is playing. Watching the Sicilian woman cook for you makes you happy. She looks so cute and relaxed while she stands over the hot range, alternating between stirring and adding more wine. When she’s not looking, you steal a sip of wine straight from the bottle, wincing at the flavor.

Laughing, she lightly hits your knee. “That’s cooking wine, babe. I’ve got some of that sickeningly sweet stuff you like chilling in the fridge.” She kisses your cheek and hands you the wooden spoon so you can stir in her absence while she grabs the bottle of moscato. As she pulls it from the fridge, she momentarily freezes at the realization of how easily the pet name slipped from her lips. How easy the whole day with you has been. The domesticity of it all doesn’t escape her.

She’s happy when you’re here, it truly hits her in this moment. She wonders if it’s possible that she makes you happy as well. Placing the wine bottle at your side, she then checks the progress of the risotto. Deciding it just needs to rest, she turns off the burner and stands between your legs. Her forearms rest on your thighs, her hands holding onto your hips. Looking up at you she smiles. “Have I told you today how beautiful you are?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think. “No, but your eyes definitely did.” You gently tuck some of her hair behind her ear. She took her makeup off earlier, leaving her face bare. You can’t think of a better view than her standing in front of you right now.

“Oh? Do my eyes talk to you often?” She teases, squeezing her hands at your sides. Her eyes are shining with how much she cares for you.

“Mhm,” you confirm with an easy smile. “Right now they’re telling me you want a kiss. Is it true?” You’re not really expecting anything to come of it, thinking maybe she’ll offer you her cheek to press your lips to. That’s why you’re caught off guard when she nods, letting a hand slip to the back of your neck.

You bend down slowly, giving her a chance to change her mind. She doesn’t and you press a sweet yet innocent kiss to her lips, pulling away almost immediately. The hand at the back of your neck stops you from getting too far as Melissa eagerly pulls you back towards her for more. Your lips move together slowly, each of you savoring the moment instead of rushing it.

“I could get used to that,” It comes out breathless and she looks so pretty saying it. The small smile, tangled hair, and swollen lips make it impossible for you not to want more. You decide to take it.

The kisses don’t end until the risotto grows cold.

[this-is-good-and-gay]

More

Emily Prentiss x reader covers the "3am confessions" for @adarafaelbarba 's bingo

It was relatively often that Emily found herself knocking on your apartment door at a late hour of the night, especially if it was a night she got home after working a rather troubling case. The two of you had met at a bar, a night you were both conveniently out on the prowl, a teasing comment, a lingering touch leading to full on flirtation before you were tangled in your sheets until the sun came up. Emily left her contact information but was quick to tell you that this was never going to be anything more than casual, she wasn’t looking for anything more than friends with benefits. Her job was crazy, she’d tried to date in the past and everyone always had problems with the hours, the danger, the last minute taking off to out of state cases and not knowing when she’d be back. You simply shrugged, letting her know that you didn’t really date, it complicated things and your own schedule was hectic enough. So you were both on the same page and had no issues with the decisions made.

You usually let Emily come to you, knowing her schedule was much more crowded than yours and it usually involved late night calls and meet ups, times that you could always agree to versus the random days where you happened to be off and you were sure she was in office. Nothing ever went past the usual hook up, maybe a little bit of post sex cuddling, she’d sleep over if it was a really late night and most days the two of you would end up sharing coffee and breakfast before she’d leave. But you never went out, it was only the rare days one of you was already out at a bar, finding no one to take home that you’d text the other and maybe meet up out before returning to the privacy of your apartment to have your way with each other.

This week the case had been a particularly tough one for Emily, she’d called you the moment she’d gotten off the jet. It would likely still be hours before she could make it to your place but she wanted to make sure you were free, that she wouldn’t have to go home to an empty cold apartment tonight. As per usual, you’d offered her a drink, asked if she was hungry and tonight she simply downed the gin before pouncing on you, dragging you to the bedroom and honestly you weren’t complaining.

Hours later, you’d fully distracted each other by bringing the other to their peak as many times as possible, only stopping when they begged you to you were finally satisfied, distracted from reality. Emily was a little more clingy than normal, accepting your embrace as you came down from your highs. You pressed a kiss to her forehead, trying to figure out if she was going to take off into the night or if she would be there when you woke up. It didn’t take long for you to realize she’d clearly had a rough week and was in it for the long haul. You flicked on the bedroom tv, tossing the remote to her, telling her you’d be right back, grabbing a shirt before you padded through the apartment.

You returned with a bag of chips, a box of cookies and a pint of ice cream with two spoons sticking out of it, tossing the picnic down on the bed before crawling back into it. Emily had chosen one of your usual go to’s to marathon so you nestled in beside her as the two of you tore into the snacks. The hesitancy was nearly radiating off her, like she wanted to talk about the case they’d just wrapped, but you were never going to press her to talk about the crazy shit she saw at work. The chips and cookies had found their way to the bedside table, Emily hoarding the ice cream, your head resting on her shoulder as you watched the show in front of you. She suddenly paused, tossing the spoon into the container with a heavy sigh, dropping it onto the table.

“I think I want more…”

“It’s late but I’m sure I can find something to order.” You chuckled, reaching out for your phone, “why do you think I asked if you’d eaten?”

Her hand came up, gently pushing your phone and hand down to the bedspread, “no…” she glanced up at you, “I… I mean with us.”

“Oh?” You faltered, shifting slightly so you could properly face her. She took a heavy breath, ducking her gaze for a moment before her hand found yours, linking with your fingers.

“I know what we agreed to and if you want to keep it at that, that’s fine.” She paused, waiting for you to interject, to say something that opposed her words but you didn’t so she kept going. “There’s just…. There’s something that draws me to you every time the jet lands. Every time we finish a case it’s you that I want to see, it’s you that I want to come home to…. I know it sounds lame, but most days it feels like everyone else has somewhere to be, people to see… and I want you to be that for me… if… if you want that.”

“Em…” you whispered, your hand cupping at her cheek as you gazed across at her, “you know… when you want to be soft you’re really fucking soft.” You giggled, leaning in to kiss her gently, “are you asking me to be your girlfriend, or do you want to take it one step at a time? Maybe start with dinner this week?”

“I.. uh..” she laughed, ducking her gaze, ever the hesitant, “I know that I like you, I like spending time with you. I want to be able to talk to you about the kind of shit that goes on during cases, parts of my past…. And I know not everyone is okay with that. I mean, we can always put a pause button if things are getting too weird.”

“That sounds perfectly reasonable. If I get to complain about how stupid my coworkers are, you should get to vent about your job too, no matter how dark things are.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You pulled her hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it.

“Well..” she huffed out a small laugh, “then I guess I am asking you to be my girlfriend.”

“Well then I fully accept.” You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your lips as you leant in to kiss her softly.

___________

@svulife-rl @ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @andreasvu @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @gamma-ray-bursts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @bookpillows @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

[this-is-good-and-gay]

"pulling your lover closer by the waistband." With JJ?

Breakfast

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Words: 1.1k+

Genre: Fluff

Summary: A short fic/drabble of what it's like when you try to surprise your wife with breakfast in the morning.

Warnings: alludes to smut, but really just fades to black.

A/N: Super short little fluff drabble for you, anon, while I try to get some bigger fics finished in the meantime!

(gif not mine; credit to creator)

“Hey hey hey!” You exclaim with a giggle. “Careful, you’re going to make me drop something.” 

You currently had your hands full, facing the counter as you mixed with one hand and clutched a bowl full of blueberry muffin batter in the other. It was a beautiful Sunday morning and the first thing you did when you got out of bed was throw some clothes on and prepare to surprise your wife with some breakfast. 

Only, you thought you were being sneaky and quiet, but really she was more successful than you were. You didn’t even realize she was awake when she tiptoed into the kitchen. But then you had felt two hands move around your waist and a chin rest on your shoulder and now here you were struggling to keep the bowl of muffin mix from tipping over. 

JJ didn’t even acknowledge your protests before she started placing feather light kisses against the side of your neck. 

“JJ seriously,” You definitely didn’t sound very serious or convincing with the attention she was giving your neck. “I’m going to spill something.”

“Hm,” She hummed against your skin. “Then maybe you should put the bowl down…” You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t incredibly tempting, but you had a goal to achieve and that was making your perfect wife a perfect breakfast to show her just how much she means to you. JJ was constantly going above and beyond to show her love for you. You lost count of how many days you’d come home to a pleasant, thoughtful surprise left for you by your wife. This was something small, a well planned breakfast to start JJ’s day, but it was still something you were determined to give her. But now her hands are sliding down your arms to meet yours and you know the minute she gets you to put down that bowl your plans for a cute breakfast with your favorite person will be long gone.

 “Come on,” She whispered in your ear, causing you to clutch onto your mixing spoon until your knuckles turned white. “Just set it down for a minute. The food can wait.” 

You shook your head, desperately trying to stand your ground. Somehow, you managed to wiggle your way out of her arms before her hands could meet yours and put the bowl down for you. With speed and surprising grace you managed to cross your kitchen, this time facing your wife and watching her every move, making sure she couldn’t sneak attack you and distract you from your personal mission. 

JJ just turned so she could lean against the counter with her arms folded across her chest. She looked amused, like she knew you were two seconds away from cracking and letting her pull you right back into your bedroom. The smirk on her face had you rolling your eyes as you continued to furiously mix the ingredients in the bowl.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” JJ chuckled as she watched you continue to scurry around the kitchen to find and fill a muffin pan with what you had just mixed.

“Like what?” You scoffed as you filled each individual tin. “All I’m doing is trying to prepare my wife a nice breakfast.” Your back was turned away from her for one minute as you moved to the oven. 

“Like you think you’ll get away that easily.” And before you could even realize, the minute your hands were free again and you turned back around from the oven, JJ was right in front of you. Hands sliding around your waist this time, she pulled you closer until you were pressed completely against her. You couldn’t stop her if you wanted to, you were putty in her hands. She just shot you the biggest, most triumphant grin before leaning in and kissing your nose, then each cheek, then finally your lips. Your hands ended up landing on either of her shoulders and you found yourself pulling her closer by the straps of the tank top she was wearing the minute her lips met yours. 

“How long do those take to bake?” JJ mumbled against your lips, before kissing you again.

“Mm.. I don’t know…” you managed between your wife’s kisses. “Fifteen minutes, I think…” 

“Plenty of time,” JJ whispered against your lips. You felt JJ’s hands slip into the belt loops of your jeans and suddenly you felt yourself being pulled as JJ walked backward towards the exit of the kitchen. For a moment you lost yourself in your wife. JJ’s lips were still on yours, her tongue slightly peaking out to trace your bottom lip as she continued to kiss you. You were totally distracted until JJ’s back hit the doorframe, clearly misjudging where she was going as she tried to walk you out the kitchen. 

“Hey hey no,” You managed to pull away from her, if only for a second. “We’ll burn the house down.”

JJ just grinned and repositioned herself so she could keep pulling you out of the kitchen. Your hands that were still resting on her shoulders were now trying to push to stop her, but your heart still wasn’t in it so, if she noticed your protests, she didn’t care to acknowledge it. 

“JJ…” you warned again. 

“Shhh shhh,” Her hands that were still pulling at your belt loops moved now to slip into each of yours. “It doesn’t even matter. I turned the oven off when you weren’t look.” 

“How did you…” Your mind was trying to figure out when she had time to slip past you and turn off the oven. As you keep trying to run a play by play through your mind, you let JJ continue to pull you towards your bedroom. “Why did you ask about the bake time?”

“I guess you were just distracted… and we’ll probably be pretty hungry after. I wanted to know how long it would take.,” JJ’s grin widened as she watched your confusion. What you hadn’t realized is that before JJ even approached you, she turned off the oven that you had preheating. You begin to protest again, but before you can get a word out of your mouth JJ stops you short. “The food will be fine, it can wait… I would much rather eat something else first.” 

“Oh…” Was all you managed. The line would’ve had you rolling your eyes if it were anyone else, but the way JJ’s tone shifted along with the way she was now staring at you. Yeah… Okay, maybe breakfast can wait.You’ll make it up to JJ  later. After all, who were you to deny her when your one goal was to give your wife a nice, romantic breakfast?

Taglist: @leecravesdeath @daddy-jareau @olliethedonut @desperate-gay @zoomdeathknight @storiesofsvu

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Stop the world I wanna get off with you (nsfw)

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: 5 times you wanted Melissa Schemmenti to kiss you + 1 time she actually did (and more)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, sexual themes, light smut, blood, vomit (non graphic)

Notes: this is just a collection of my daydreams of Melissa. Oops. This is my first time writing for her! Enjoy!

1.

Internally you groan and look to your right to your best friend to see Ava already paired up with Janine. You narrow your eyes at her. She was only at this book club meeting as a favor to you. If she’s partnered with anyone, it should be you.

Huffing, you glance around Janine’s living room, finding the two other pairs that were already made; Jacob and Mr. Johnson, Barbara and Gregory. That meant the only person that could be your partner was-

“Looks like you’re with me,” came the voice with a South Philly accent.

Melissa Schemmenti. Could your day get any worse? First, Janine had asked you to attend her book club meeting and to bring Ava along. Then, Ava ditches you and you have to be partners with Melissa, the woman that has iced you out ever since starting at Abbott. It started when Ava introduced you as a new hire to the other teachers, the redhead refused to take part in any conversation you were in or even look at you.

“Great. Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, shifting in your chair to face her.

“You got something to say to me? Did you even read the book?” She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. She’s known for being prickly but you’ve never noticed her being so aggressive towards anyone.

“Like it’s hard? Janine just chose the newest Nora Roberts,” you shot back, deciding you weren’t going to just sit there and take it. If she had a problem with you she could be an adult and have a conversation about it.

“So now you’re making fun of my dyslexia?” She’s dyslexic? That explains her habit of highlighting anything you’ve seen her read. “You’re worse than Ava. I bet you don’t have a teaching degree.”

If there’s anything Melissa hates, it’s the thought of someone not having the students’ best interests in mind. To think someone would take a teaching position just to have a job instead of genuinely caring about the kids’ education would make them the worst kind of person.

Was that her issue with you? She thought Ava had given you the job because you’re friends with her? “I graduated magna cum laude at Berkeley!” Your voice rose for the first time. Generally you were a calm, easy-going person, but Melissa seemed to effortlessly get under your skin.

At the sign she was getting to you, the redhead smirks. “Oh I get it. You’re a big shot from the west coast so you’re better than me?” She sounds so smug and satisfied with herself. Your arms cross as you both lean in closer together, almost imperceptibly.

“I went on scholarship, actually. Maybe you could’ve gotten one if you weren’t too busy picking fights with anything that gets within five feet of you.” Just because you went to a nice school doesn’t mean you’re stuck up. She has the nerve to accuse you of stereotyping when she’s the one doing it to you? Your fists clench at your sides. Noticing your heart was beating erratically in your chest, you take a few deep breaths to try to dissipate the anger the other woman had produced in you.

“Got quite a mouth on you, don’t you? Just begging for someone to teach you to shut up.” Her eyes wild, eyebrows high on her face, acting like she was so superior to you.

Swallowing hard due to your suddenly dry mouth, you counter, “I’d like to see you try, Schemmenti.”

The wicked grin she shoots at you dissipates at the interruption of Janine’s hesitant inquiry, “Do you guys want to share your answers with the rest of us?” Only then do you notice the way everyone is looking at you both.

“No, she’s right, Nora Roberts sucks! Pick something better next time.” Melissa relaxes back into her chair and all of the fight in you evaporates.

“Yeah, can we read something cool like a murder mystery?” You decide the satisfaction settling deep in your chest has nothing to do with how the redhead nods enthusiastically in agreement.

Neither of you were invited back the next week.

2.

The commotion in the hallway irked you. You wanted nothing more than to relax while your kids were in art class; it only happened once per week, after all. However, the combination of a hard thud, a loud gasp, and hurried footsteps was enough to urge you out of your seat to check what was going on.

Peaking your head out of your classroom, you see Melissa limp on the floor, Barbara leaning over her. Concern floods your system as you hurry to the redhead’s side. Blood is pouring out of her nose and there’s a gash above her eyebrow.

“Are you alright, Melissa?” Barbara furrows her brows as she takes in the condition of the woman on the floor before noticing your approach and looking up at you. “Oh good. Can you look over her? I need to get back to class.”

“I’m fine, Barb,” Melissa answers, cutting off your own reply. “Both of you go back to whatever you need to do. I have some revenge to plan anyway.”

You roll your eyes at her antics. Could she be any more stereotypical? “I’ve got her, Mrs. Howard,” you give her a small smile and she hastily nods her thanks and leaves before Melissa could protest.

Turning back to the hot headed teacher, you realize she’s trying to stand up but miscalculates her balance and staggers. Your hands reach around her waist to steady her. “I said I’m fine. Get your hands off me,” she grits through her teeth as she tries to remove herself from your grasp.

“You’re not fine, you’re injured,” you roll your eyes at her stubbornness, “let me help you wash off the blood before you scar your students then I’ll leave you be. I don’t think either of us wants to be in trouble with Mrs. Howard.”

She finally stops protesting, realizing she doesn’t want to be on Barbara’s shit list. “Alright, fine. But no cell phones or cameras,” she warns, glaring at the camera crew.

“Whatever. I’m not interested in having a picture of you on my phone, even if it’s for blackmail. Now, can you stand here while I grab my first aid kit?”

Melissa gives you a curt nod in response and you move to find the kit in the drawer of your desk before walking her to the nearest bathroom.

Once she’s sure no living soul besides you two are occupying the bathroom she hops onto a sink to sit. Placing a tissue under a stream of water to use it to wipe the dried blood off her face, your wonder gets the best of you. “I never thought I’d see the day Melissa Schemmenti was bested in a fight. How the hell did that happen?”

She grimaces as you go over a particularly sore spot. “Why would I tell you? So you can embarrass me in front of the whole school? I don’t think so, hon.”

You pause as the last of the blood comes off and sigh. “You know, not everyone is out to get you, Melissa. Besides, who would believe me if I told them the great Melissa Schemmenti got knocked on her ass in the middle of the school?”

A small smile threatens to take over her lips. You hide a smile of your own as you turn to get an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit. There’s a moment of silence before she determines that you have a valid point. “Who hurt you?” You ask, bringing the wipe to her face to sanitize the wounds. You’re not sure why you’re uneasy with the knowledge someone put their hands on her.

Melissa winces at the first contact of the wipe to a cut. “You, right now,” she murmurs and you can feel her breath on your cheek as you work on her face. Another pause. “It grinds my gears when people act like they’re better than me. Janine must’ve struck a nerve when she taunted me about the read-a-thon. I told her she was using fighting words and that she might as well actually fight me instead. Next thing I know I’m on my ass and she’s running away.”

A breathless laugh escapes you and you raise a brow. “You mean sweet little Janine did this to you? I guess she wasn’t lying about those Tae Kwon Do lessons,” you muse, throwing the alcohol wipe in the trash.

Melissa looks at you suspiciously. “What, you’re not gonna make fun of me?”

You shrug and find a small butterfly bandage to use on the cut marking her forehead. “Like I said, not everyone is out to get you.”

She thinks that maybe you’re not as stuck up as she first thought and frowns at you. “How’d you get so good at bandaging people up anyway?”

Gently taking her head in your hand, you tilt it forward to place the band-aid directly in the middle of the cut. She must’ve gotten it from falling to the floor since it was obvious the punch Janine threw landed on her nose. “I’m known around my neighborhood as Doctor Doolittle. I help the kids out when they find injured animals. Birds, squirrels, things like that,” you’re nonchalant about it as you toss the bandaid wrapper in the trash can.

Melissa stops to think about how gentle you’ve been with her today. She can’t remember a time that someone has ever fussed over her like that, so determined to get her fixed up. She’s used to being the strong one, the one no one ever bothers to worry about. It was just second nature to you, though. Some emotion that she can’t name swirls somewhere in her midsection at the thought of you taking care of her. The redhead doesn’t get a rest from swirling emotions when you softly lift a finger under her chin to tilt her head in an effort to check for any wounds you missed.

You don’t find anything more, going to drop your hand from her skin but pausing as you notice your face is only inches from hers. Green eyes are locked on yours and you forget to breathe. You’re not sure how you never paid attention to the way they sparkle under the lights. Have they been this pretty the whole time?

A pink tongue wets red stained lips and your eyes dart down to watch. The blood colored lips look so soft and they’re so close to yours. You force your eyes to lift back up to hers and you can’t help but to wonder if her mouth is as rough with kissing as it is with words. Knuckles white from your tight grip on the edge of the sink, you desperately plead with yourself to not do something stupid like lean in to give into the urge to see for yourself.

You watch as her eyes grow dark and her head leans in almost imperceptibly. Before you can decide to close the distance, the door to the bathroom opens with a bang, a student running in, and you take a step back. Refusing to meet Melissa’s eyes, you gather the first aid kit and step towards the door. Your hand reaches the handle before half turning back to her. “I hope we can at least be friendly after this,” you pause to give her a half smile before opening the door. “Oh,” you finally gain the courage to look at her again. “If you’re thinking about revenge, you might want to try looking over the read-a-thon rules again.”

The next day, neither of you mentions the plate of lasagna that’s waiting on your desk when you walk in or the note attached to it that reads, Friends.

3.

At least it’s Friday, at least it’s Friday, echoed through your mind like a mantra. You were this close to a breakdown.

Nothing was going to plan. You had practically skipped while coming into work, it was supposed to be an easy day with the pizza party to celebrate the read-a-thon. Your plan for the day was to give the kids their weekly spelling test, let them have the rest of the morning to complete any undone work, then after the pizza lunch you planned to reward their reading efforts with a movie.

The printer running out of paper while you were trying to make copies of the spelling test irritated you, sure, but it wasn’t the end of the world. You’d huffed but decided you could draw the necessary pictures of the words the kids would spell on the whiteboard. Only for your last dry erase marker to run out of ink in the middle of your first drawing. The spelling test was canceled to the excitement of your students, but it instantly gave you a headache while you mentally tried to change your schedule for the upcoming week to fit it in.

You thought your irritation from earlier in the day would fade when free-work time started. The kids were quiet and were actually getting things done despite the excitement the idea of the pizza party brought.

Until Jamal threw up.

Blood didn’t bother you, boogers didn’t bother you, but vomit? It was horrible to you. The sound, the smell, the sight. Hardly being able to stand remaining in the room, you hurried to call for Mr. Johnson. Gregory happened to walk by your classroom and informed you that Mr. Johnson was off that day after winning some sort of bet with Ava.

You sent Jamal to the nurse and had to clean his puke yourself, the collar of your favorite Berkeley sweatshirt lifted up over your nose. Gagging the whole time, the only thought getting you through it was that at least it can’t get worse.

Except it did.

The pizza arrived and all the kids seemed happy. It wasn’t until Alyssa and Jayden fought over the last slice that you thought maybe it could get worse. The girls stood by the box, each with a hand on the slice practically playing tug-of-war with it. You had stood to break up the argument when the piece of pizza slipped out of their tiny hands, catapulting the italian masterpiece into the air until gravity took its effect and it landed on your face. You stood in shock for a moment, not believing your bad luck, when the slice slipped down your face and onto your sweatshirt to stain it.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to steady yourself and sent the kids to recess. Deciding not to take any chances, you pull the movie up on your laptop and warm up the projector. Just as you logged into your Netflix account, the screen of your laptop went dark. You rummaged in your bag until your memory from this morning popped into your head clearly showing your laptop charger on the kitchen counter.

Groaning in frustration you let your head fall to your desk. Tears well up and your throat starts to constrict as the misfortunes of the day begin to overwhelm you.

Unbeknownst to you, Melissa walked by your classroom as she heard your sniffles. Not big on giving comfort, she almost keeps going as if she hadn’t even heard you in the first place. But she hesitates, remembering the softness you’d given to her after the incident the other day and suddenly the thought of you in pain was unbearable.

The warm hand on your shoulder startles you and you quickly dry your tears as you sit up and plaster a fake smile on your face.

“Oh, hon,” Melissa says at the sight of you. Your eyes are red and your mascara is starting to run, your hair is tangled from your fingers combing the remnants of cheese out of it, and your white Berkeley sweatshirt is stained with pizza sauce. “What happened?”

Tears involuntarily start flowing again and Melissa awkwardly pulls you into a hug. Slightly confused because she is notoriously adamant that no one is allowed to touch her, you take a shaky breath in as you slip your arms around her waist. If she was offering you might as well accept. Her body is warm and she smells like sage and sea salt, reminding you of home somehow. She rubs your back as you tell her everything that’s happened today.

“And now I don’t know what I’m going to do the rest of the day. I didn’t have a back up plan for the movie and I can’t think when I smell like pepperoni,” you pout as you pull back from the hug, but begin to feel better after talking it out. Or maybe you’re worn out from the crying.

Melissa’s thumbs reach out to wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks. She looks over you until she decides that she hasn’t improved your mood enough for her liking. Definitely not because your touch was comforting enough that she didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to scurry away from any physical encounters. Maybe she hit her head too hard the other day.

“C’mon,” is all that leaves her mouth, abruptly turning to leave. She flashed that big Schemmenti smile at you before turning and walking out of the door. You don’t even take a second to think, you just follow. Once she hears your footsteps behind her, Melissa smirks to herself. She thinks she likes the way you obey her command without question.

Reaching her empty classroom, the redhead pushes you to sit in her chair while she digs in the bottom drawer of her desk. “It’s not Berkeley,” she says after finding what she was looking for and holding it out to you, “but it doesn’t have pizza sauce on it so it should do for now.”

You hold up the hooded sweatshirt she’s handed you, eyes roaming it. It’s a dark heathered gray with the name of some South Philly high school printed on the front in a faded emerald green. Turning it around you see ‘SCHEMMENTI’ going across the back. The letters are faded, the sleeves have seen better days, and there are a few small stains on it but you decide it’s the best sweatshirt you’ve laid your eyes on.

Excited to not be wearing something with pizza remnants on it, you pull your stained sweatshirt over your head. As you drop it to her desk you freeze, realizing that you’re practically half naked in front of your coworker. Your eyes move to find Melissa and gauge her reaction. Her mouth hangs open in a small ‘o’ and her eyes trained on the little satin bow attached to the middle of your bra. You stamp down any thoughts of her taking your clothes off for you because where did that even come from and you don’t even like her that way.

She doesn’t try to hide it when your eyes meet, and they stay locked as you rush to redress in her sweatshirt. Once it’s on you’re engulfed with the smell of her. You only just stop yourself from burying your nose to the inside of it. The sweatshirt hangs off your frame and the sleeves dangle past your wrists but you’re sure it’s the softest thing you’ve ever put on your body. It’s obviously well loved and you hide your surprise at being trusted with it. You send a thank you to whatever deity may be looking upon you for the existence of casual Fridays.

Melissa feels her blush creep up her neck as she takes in the sight of you in her clothes. She thinks the pink of her cheeks must match the color of your bra. That she’s seen. Just now. Because you undressed in front of her. She tries not to think about why her heart skips a beat or why it’s hard for her to swallow.

“Thank you,” you smile at her. “Really, you didn’t have to.”

“No problem,” she smiles back. “I was planning on showing my kids ‘Inside Out’, do you want to join in with your class?”

You might owe Melissa Schemmenti your life for saving your ass so many times today.

You have your kids carry their chairs to Melissa’s classroom as you wheel yours down the hallway. Behind Melissa’s desk, your two chairs barely fit, meaning the whole right side of your thigh is pressed into the whole left side of her thigh. Neither of you acknowledge the touching, just like neither of you acknowledge that you could’ve found one of the TVs on wheels to drag to your class to show a movie on.

At some point during the movie you feel eyes on you. “What?” You turn to her, furrowing your brows. “Is my hair messed up?”

“No, it’s messy but it’s nice to see that you’re not so put together all the time,” she shrugs as she whispers back, trying not to interrupt the movie.

“Oh,” you’re not sure how anyone thinks you’re put together. “What are you looking at then?”

“It’s attractive,” you’re not sure you hear her right because there’s no way your messy hair and smudged mascara is attractive to anyone.

She must notice the look on your face because she looks away from you before saying, “What? You’re hot. I’ve got eyes,” as nonchalantly as she can.

There’s no way you can ignore the butterflies you get from that.

-

The following Friday you’re wearing her sweatshirt again when you put your lunch in the fridge and make yourself a cup of coffee. Jacob sits at one of the tables in the break room with his own cup, gasping as you turn towards the coffee maker.

“Does your sweatshirt say Schemmenti?” His voice incredulous as he asks. “Does Melissa know about this?”

Before you can open your mouth to respond, the woman in question walks in.

“She wouldn’t be my least favorite Schemmenti,” the redhead smirks. Was she flirting with you?

It’s a wonder neither you or Jacob faint.

4.

“You look like shit,” Melissa observes.

You had just walked into the after-school teacher meeting, finding the seat she’d saved for you on her right, Barbara filling the seat to her left. And if your chair was a few inches closer to her than Barbara’s was, you pretend not to notice. It doesn’t mean anything anyway.

“Such a charmer, Schemmenti.” You drop into your seat and turn to look at her. Leather jacket having off the back of the chair, legs crossed and stretched out in front of her, hands in her front pockets, glasses up on her head keeping her long waves out of her face. She looks good.

Green eyes roll at you and red lips are pulled into a smirk. She must’ve recently reapplied her lipstick because-

“Melissa is right. You look like you haven’t been sleeping well, dear,” Barbara interrupts your thought.

A pout forms on your lips as you lean in closer to talk with the older women without interrupting the meeting. “I haven’t. A baby bird flew into a neighborhood kid’s bedroom window last night and he brought it over to me so I could take a look. Bird’s fine now but I didn’t get into bed until at least two. Then,” your voice turns even more exasperated, “a jackhammer outside my window woke me at five thirty. Apparently they’re fixing the sidewalk.”

Dropping your head to Melissa’s shoulder, you mutter into her shirt, “if I don’t get my 10 hours of sleep tonight I might die.” You feel more than hear the redhead chuckle.

You turn your head to at least halfway pay attention to the meeting Ava is conducting. Melissa’s body is warm and she doesn’t move to shrug you off of her so you leave your head where it is. If she wanted you to move, you would, but to your surprise her arm snakes its way up to rest on the back of your chair.

The rise and fall of her chest as she breathes makes your eyelids grow heavy. Melissa turns her head towards you and murmurs something against your forehead but you have no idea what she says because you’re engulfed in the smell of her shampoo and perfume combination and her side is so warm pressed against yours. You think you can close your eyes for just a second…

Janine turns around in her seat to ask you a question but forgets all about it when she notices your position and closed eyes. “Is she-,” the young teacher starts to ask when Melissa glares at her from beside you.

“You wake her up I’ll kill you, Teagues,” she angry-whispers, her palm covering your exposed ear. Janine, still terrified of Melissa after their hallway incident, immediately turns back around. The redhead sighed in relief, carding her fingers through your hair with the hand that previously pressed to your ear.

The meeting ends and the staff begins filing out as if they have something more important to do than grade assignments and sleep. You and Melissa were the only two left.

“Alright, sweetheart. Time to wake up,” she urges you. Her voice was so gentle, devoid of all the gruffness it holds around other people, you’re not sure you comprehend that it’s real.

“Five more minutes, Mel,” you breathe into the crook of her neck, lips grazing the warm skin there as you speak.

At the feel of your lips on her and the sound of the nickname, Melissa squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The feeling she gets in the pit of her stomach hearing your sleep-ridden voice is decidedly not friendly. She shakes her head as if it could shake off the thought and gently nudges you awake.

The first thing you notice once you wake is how safe you feel. The second thing you notice comes after you blink the sleep from your eyes; you’re cuddling into Melissa Schemmenti in your shared workplace.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Melissa. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” your internal panic bleeds into your words and you’re sure she can hear it too.

Her lips twitch in her effort not to smile at you. The presence of your nervousness dissolves her own.

“Let me make you dinner.”

-

The whole situation was surreal. You were sitting in Melissa Schemmenti’s kitchen while she put effort into creating a homemade meal specifically for you to eat. She had shooed you away after denying your offers of help.

Somehow, with your view from the stool you sat on, you weren’t too upset about that.

Smiling with your head resting on your palm, you took in the sight of her. She’d changed into an oversized crewneck sweatshirt and comfy pants as well as washed off the day’s makeup. Hair up and glasses on, you don’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful. You’re not sure how you ever got to be so lucky to be able to see her like this, that she’s willingly letting you. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the domesticity of it all.

You let your mind wander as she stirs the sauce for the pasta she’s making. Arrabiata, she’d called it. Thoughts travel to the last time that she cooked for you, the lasagna for helping her win the read-a-thon. Maybe food is her love language.

Maybe food is her love language.

“You’re staring,” and suddenly you’re gazing at each other from across the kitchen. You’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky just for you and she’s looking at you like she would.

Something in her expression tells you your feelings that this friendship with Melissa is leading somewhere are reciprocated.

The next thing you know, her eyes are saying I want it but I’m not quite ready for more and yours respond take your time.

You would wait however long it takes.

5.

Walking into the break room, you halt in your tracks from how crowded it is. Your brows furrow while your eyes nervously flit between all the bodies. It was odd to see almost every Abbott teacher present. Many took their lunches in their classrooms or went out to the diner around the corner.

While trying to push through the horde of bodies to get to your regular table, you remember that Ava had sent an email earlier in the day that you’d ignored. Maybe you should’ve read that.

Sighing, you finally reach the table only to notice that it’s completely full. You couldn’t help the pout that formed on your lips. After your dinner with Melissa, things seemed different. It was as if she let her guard down more often, like you were really a friend she trusted. Lunches with her were something you started to treasure.

But not because your conversations became more openly flirtatious. Definitely not. No way.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Melissa smiled at you as you caught her eye. “I tried saving you a seat but it got so crowded in here no one heard my threats,” she rolled her eyes as if to say how dare they.

“That’s alright, Mel, thanks for trying,” you flash her a small smile to let her know you weren’t upset. “I’ll probably just go back to my room to eat.”

“Hey, no, c’mon we can make room,” she protested, grabbing your hand to prevent your departure. “Here, we can share.”

Before you could think of a response, the redhead’s hands fell to your waist to guide you into sitting on her lap. “See? All good. You need to be here for Ava’s announcement anyway,” was the excuse she gave as one of her hands traveled from your waist to settle, splayed on your lower belly.

Being so close to her, her hands on you, you were rendered temporarily speechless. You nod blankly, missing the smirks exchanged by the table’s other occupants. A low chuckle at your back brought your attention back to your surroundings. Melissa leaned up to bring her mouth close to your ear, ensuring no one else heard her words, “is that all it takes to get you to be quiet? I didn’t realize you’d be that easy.”

Knowing you were being watched curiously by Janine and Jacob from the opposite end of the table, you tried your hardest not to have any outward reaction to the words whispered in your ear. Mostly successful, the only hint anyone had that you were affected was the small squeak that you tried to muffle with a bite to your lower lip. Melissa, however, felt the way you tensed.

“Is that what her email was about? I never got around to reading it,” you say, trying to pay attention to something that didn’t have anything to do with the warm body pressed to yours.

Melissa’s teasing steadily grew in intensity over the past few weeks. It was understood where your relationship was headed, even though it wasn’t official. This knowledge seemed to give her all the confidence in the world. Not that she needed any help with that, you thought. It was as if making you blush and stutter was her life’s goal. It was fun for you too, albeit slightly frustrating. You’re more than happy to wait until she’s ready, but damn was she making it hard.

“Yeah,” Gregory was the one that answered your question, “she said something about announcing what we were going to do for team building this semester.”

“Ooh, I hope it’s something fun like going to a trampoline park,” Janine’s idea summons a chorus of snickers.

“Hm, I think we should go to the art museum,” Jacob smiled. “We could bond over our interpretations of Picasso’s Three Musicians. You know I heard-,”

“No, no one wants to do any of that,” Melissa’s fingers flexed on your stomach as she spoke, unused to not using her hands as she communicates. “I think we should go to an Eagles game and call it a day.”

Your mind drifts to what that would look like. Melissa’s excitement when the Eagles scored, that smile she gets when she’s won something. Or if the opposing team intercepted the ball, her jaw would tense and she’d yell with that voice she uses when she’s angry. If she was using that voice, you’re sure you’d do anything she-

A pinch to your thigh jerks you out of your thoughts, realizing everyone was looking at you as if waiting for a response. “They asked what your idea was, hon,” the redhead whispered to you, the hand that had pinched you rubbing where she had hurt.

“Oh, I-,” this time you were interrupted by Ava sauntering into the room. You exhaled, grateful for her arrival knowing you wouldn’t have to come up with an idea on the spot.

“Don’t worry y’all, your queen is here. I know you missed me,” the principal flipped her hair over her shoulder while making her way to the front of the room.

The thumb caressing your inner thigh gradually crept closer to the hem of your skirt. You felt your cheeks flush and heat pool in your belly where Melissa’s other hand still rested. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but to squirm in her lap. The hands on you seem to take away your ability to think about anything other than them. You aren’t sure whether you want her hands to move or to stay right where they are.

“You guys are really getting spoiled this time,” Ava smiles in the way that let you know she is up to something. “I’m allowing all of you to come to a famous Ava Coleman party.”

A harmony of groans erupts from everyone present, but it’s Janine who speaks up. “Ava, no offense, but I don’t think anyone had that in mind.”

Ava snorts. “Why, what was your idea? The splash pad?”

Janine frowns. “The trampoline park, actually,” she mutters under her breath. Ava hears it, however, and lets out a bark of laughter.

“Let me guess, you wanted to finally see what it’s like to not be leprechaun-sized?” She rolls her eyes. “C’mon, Janine, we’re adults. Besides, I already spent the money from the district on the alcohol.”

At that, Ava turns to walk out of the door. As she crosses the doorway, she yells behind her, “attendance is mandatory. Saturday at 9. My house. And don’t wear your school clothes!”

Everyone grumbles once she’s gone. You wonder why Ava would invite the whole school to her house for a party. Usually she can’t wait to go home after the school day is over. Something is definitely up, you decide, and you are going to figure out what it is.

Melissa’s hands slide up to your waist and squeeze. “Well, I guess it could be worse. We could have to pay for our own drinks,” she huffs.

With another squeeze to your hips she urges you to stand so she can walk you back to your classroom. Her hand falls to the small of your back as she guides you from the break room. Finally out of anyone’s sight, she shifts so her hand can settle into your back pocket.

You turn to glare at her once you reach the safety of your classroom. “You are playing a dangerous game, Schemmenti,” you try hard to make your voice sound stern but it mostly comes out as breathless and flustered as you feel.

She smirks, her hands landing on your desk on either side of you, effectively trapping you in her arms. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re teasing me, Mel,” you say, more whiny than intended.

“Oh I can show you teasing, babe,” she steps in between your parted legs and you gulp at her proximity. Her hands find your knees to spread your legs further apart in order for her body to be flush with yours. The same hands trail up your sides to rest on your cheeks after smoothing your hair behind your ears. Her thumb rests on your cheekbone as she cups your jaw, pulling your face to hers. She’s so close you can’t think. All you want is to cross the last few inches of space between you to finally find out what her lips feel like against yours, how her tongue would taste in your mouth.

“Please, Mel,” you whimper into the air between you, looking up at the woman you can't get off your mind. You watch her pupils widen as she takes in the sight of you.

Just as she was about to lean in, the bell rings and the moment ends. Melissa stands up straight and pats your knee before heading to her own classroom. “See you Saturday,” she winks and disappears down the hallway.

You blow out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. That woman was going to be the death of you.

+1

Shivering on the front porch, you curse yourself for thinking it was a good idea to only wear a cardigan on your top half. Just as you were about to raise your hand to the door in front of you to knock again, Ava jerks it open.

“Good, you’re here. Help me pick out an outfit,” she ushers you in, leading you to her bedroom.

“You texted me to come to your party early to help you with an outfit?” You ask her, annoyance clear in your voice.

“No, of course not,” she says from inside her closet. “This is just a bonus.”

You sigh and sit on her bed. “Are you going to tell me the real reason you’re having this party then?”

She pops out of the closet wearing a bright pink mini dress with the deepest v-neck you’ve ever seen. “Too much?”

“Ava, I’ve never seen you this worried about what you’re going to wear. Maybe if I knew why it was so important I could help you better,” you cross your arms and give her a look. “And yes, it’s too much.”

“Fine,” she turns back to the closet in search of another outfit. “I need to make someone jealous. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How?” You ask nervously, you know how Ava works and you don’t want to be sucked into her scheme. “And why me?”

“You’re the cutest one coming to the party other than me. It wouldn’t be believable with anyone else,” she tells you as casually as she can muster and pops out of the closet to show you her sweater and skirt combo. You nod in approval and she goes to look for shoes. “Besides, I’m cashing in that favor you owe me. You know, for going to that book thing.”

“If I’m here to make someone jealous, why did you bother to invite the whole staff? You could’ve just-,” you stop mid-sentence as you come to a realization. “Ava Coleman, who at Abbott are you trying to make jealous?”

“None of your business,” she leaves the closet a final time and spins to show you the completed outfit. “You’re okay with a bit of ass grabbing right?”

“If you tell me who it is I’ll let you touch my ass in front of them one time tonight,” normally you wouldn’t stoop so low, but it was a rare occurrence that Ava caught feelings and you need to know who she is pining after.

She rolls her eyes and relents. “You’re lucky you’re cute or I’d have a new best friend by yesterday,” she purses her lips and whispers a name in your ear. “Happy now?”

-

You’re leaning into Ava’s side near the makeshift bar when a flash of red hair catches your eye. You’d been right next to Ava since Abbott employees and some of her friends started filtering in. Your friend kept you supplied with drinks and you were happy to listen as she spoke with her guests. Until the one person you wanted to see arrived.

Leaning up to her ear you whisper, “Ava, Melissa is here I’m gonna go say hi.”

The principal leans down to whisper back, “hell, no. You’re not leaving my side. This has to seem real.”

She possessively slings her arm around your waist at the exact no moment you catch Melissa’s eye. All you can do is hopelessly watch as her eyes travel down your body to take in your outfit, stopping as she notices the arm around you. Her eyes trail back up to yours, her brows furrowed. You flash her a weak smile, hoping it conveys that you’ll explain later as Ava pulls you away to greet another group. You don’t see Melissa’s frown deepen.

In all the fuss of finding out about Ava’s crush, it somehow slipped your mind that she would be here tonight. You curse Ava for taking you out of the redhead’s company and hope you would find a reason to get away from her grasp for the night. You had been looking forward to spending more time with Melissa outside of school, no way would you let Ava ruin it.

Melissa found the usual group and joined in. She figures you will come find her when you can and tries to shrug off any thoughts about how cozy you seem in Ava’s arms. “Any idea what’s going on over there?” She cocks her head in the direction of you and your best friend.

Janine glances over. “I’m not sure. They look pretty comfortable together.” They’re both looking over at you when you feel a hand at your backside before it gives you a firm squeeze. The surprise of it had you almost spitting out your drink.

It was a surprise for everyone in the friend group too. Jacob slides his way between Janine and Melissa to gossip, “ooh, how long have they been together? Boss/employee relationship. Kinda hot but you have to wonder if the power dynamic is ethical,” he shakes his head at his own comment.

“Together?” Melissa raises her eyebrows and her hands find her hips.

“Yeah,” Janine agrees, “I thought Ava didn’t do relationships.”

“What else would you call that?” Jacob gestures in your direction as Ava grabs your hand to lead you towards them.

“Hey y’all, glad you could make it,” Ava greets the teachers as you approach.

“Some are happier about it than others,” Melissa retorts. Her voice has an edge to it, one that hasn’t been directed at you in a long time.

“I’m going to need another drink,” you mutter, hoping you’re not fucking everything up by helping your friend. Surely Melissa knew you wouldn’t ever be into Ava? She knows the principal is just a good friend. Right?

“Here, sweetcheeks, let me grab that for you,” Ava snatches your cup and saunters off, leaving you alone with the group.

Sighing in relief, you turn to Melissa, excited that you finally get to talk to her. She looks good in her dark leather jacket and black jeans, you can’t wait to dance with her later. “Hey, Mel, sorry I haven’t come to say hi, Ava’s been introducing me to some of her friends I hadn’t met yet,” you give her a small smile that she doesn’t return.

“Don’t worry about it sweetcheeks, you two are cute together,” she punctuates her sentence with a long swig from her beer bottle. You stare at her, hard, trying to decide whether she’s being serious or not. The smile fades from your lips when her jaw sets.

“Wait, what?” She believes the act Ava is putting on? “It’s not like that, we’re not-,”

“For the pretty girl,” Ava interrupts, handing you your drink. She gives you a pointed stare for almost blowing your cover before bending down to kiss your cheek.

That was too much for you. You agreed on one ass grab, nothing else. “I think I’m going to grab a snack, does anyone else want anything?” Not bothering to wait for any responses, you rush away to the kitchen to have a moment to yourself to figure out how to fix things.

“Look at that hot piece of ass, and it’s all mine,” Ava boasts to the group as you walk away, slyly checking for a reaction from a certain someone.

The reaction she wasn’t expecting was Melissa getting in her face, jabbing her pointer finger into her chest. “That’s enough, Coleman. She’s a person, not a plaything.” The redhead shoves past her, shoulder pushing into her boss with more force than necessary, and stalks after you.

“You and I need to have a little talk about self-respect,” comes her gruff voice from behind you, making you jump before turning to look at her.

“What are you talking about?” The fierceness in her voice makes you want her, but also makes you nervous at the same time. You swallow hard and avert your eyes.

“Ava. I don’t like how she talks about you. And just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean I don’t care about you,” she sounds like she means it and it makes your knees weak.

“Dance with me,” you take her hand and drag her to the living room where the furniture was moved to create the space used as a dance floor. It seems crowded enough that Ava won't easily find you and you’d have time to explain the situation to Melissa.

Reaching the safety of the crowd, you pull Melissa into you and wrap your arms around her neck. Her eyes met yours before carefully placing her hands on your back. “Melissa Schemmenti, you’ve got to be the hottest woman alive,” your fingers start playing with the baby hairs at the base of her neck and laugh, “I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

“Jealous of your little girlfriend over there?” She scoffs at you. “Absolutely not.”

“Mel, baby, Ava and I are not together. And I thought you were going to slice a hole in her head with the glare you were giving her earlier,” you reason, hoping she would believe you.

“What do you mean you’re not together? She’s been all over you the whole night,” the redhead subconsciously pulls your body closer to hers as you sway with the music.

“She wants to make her crush jealous. I owe her a favor, so here I am. I planned on telling you but I never got the chance to,” you bury your face in the crook of her neck. “I only want you, Mel. Forgive me?”

She cradles your head to her chest and presses a kiss to your temple. “Nothing to forgive,” she soothes you, running her fingers through your hair. “But you’re never pulling a stunt like that ever again, you hear?”

Smiling, you lift your head to look her in the eye. “You know,” you say conspiratorially, “if I was Melissa Schemmenti’s girl, no one would mess with me or try to fake date me.”

“We might just have to do something about that then,” she flashes you her signature smile and relief washes through you. You open your mouth to respond but notice Ava’s head above the crowd, swiftly moving in your direction.

Grabbing Melissa’s hand, you lead her through the mass of people and into the hallway before opening a random door and stepping inside. Melissa, to her credit, doesn't question anything as you drag her through Ava’s home.

“If you wanted to be alone with me, all you had to do was ask, hon,” she teases you as she backs you into the door you just came through. A giggle escapes your mouth at the absurdity of the situation.

“Shh, Ava must be looking for us and I haven’t gotten enough time with you tonight,” your mouth barely closes before she’s tugging you into the closet, her hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Her entire body presses yours into another door from the inside of a closet. Still covering your mouth, she bends her neck to speak softly into your ear. “I heard footsteps, I think Ava’s coming.”

Sure enough, you hear the bedroom door open and hurried footsteps enter the room. Struggling to keep quiet and not think about how you can feel Melissa’s breasts pressed against yours or how her belt is digging into your lower belly, you squeeze your eyes shut. After giving yourself a few moments to calm your heart rate, you slowly blink open your eyes to find green eyes watching you.

The small amount of light that filters in from under the closet door doesn’t allow you to see much, but you know that look in her eye. Neither of you moves or looks away. The hand clasped over your mouth goes limp and falls to your hip. Emerald eyes flutter behind long lashes and focus on your parted lips. You can feel that she’s almost ready to give into the temptation. Biting your lip, you continue to look in her eyes, trying to determine what decision she’ll make.

Suddenly, her face is so close that you can feel the puffs of her hot breath on your cheeks. Then she’s leaning in, molding her lips to yours. The shock of finally feeling her lips on you leaves you temporarily stunned. Melissa starts to pull back, thinking your lack of response means you don't want it. Your hands tangle in red waves to pull her back into you before she gets even an inch away. Her red lipstick and your pink lipgloss mix together as you kiss and you think it must make the perfect color.

The kiss starts off slow and sensual. The feel of it has you wondering what her mouth would feel like elsewhere. You let out a small moan at the thought and she takes the opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue.

Her hands at your hips move upwards to caress the skin under your cardigan. The warmth and intimacy of her hands on the skin of your stomach drives both of you to kiss more frantically. Red lips place wet kisses that burn your skin from your jaw and down your neck. Your fingers tighten their grip in Melissa’s hair in an effort to stop yourself from letting out any noises. Her fingertips trace your skin, inching higher as her tongue licks along your collarbone. Caresses along your ribs continue until they reach the underside of your breast.

Her groan vibrates against your chest and she can’t help but to ask in disbelief, “You’re not wearing a bra?”

Palms reach up to cup you beneath your cardigan and give you a light squeeze. “Mmm,” you take a breath, “In my defense, I thought I was going to spend a lot more time with you and a lot less with Ava.”

At the mention of the principal she pinches your nipples and returns her mouth to yours. She swallows your whimper and continues the make out session passionately. You were sure your lips would be swollen when she was done with you. Your need for her was growing and you were getting desperate for more of her.

“Please, Mel,” you whisper, not sure what exactly you’re asking for.

“Shh, keep quiet for me,” Melissa murmurs against your lips, nimble fingers moving to unbutton your jeans. Her hands make their way into your pants, sliding along your underwear where they meet your wetness where it has seeped through cotton.

“Fuck,” she pants into your ear, “how long have you wanted this?”

Fingers pull your panties to the side and ease into you. Your teeth sink into the skin between her neck and shoulder to muffle your moans once she’s knuckle deep inside you. The little gasps only she can hear encourage Melissa to thrust into you. Her other arm snakes around your waist to hold you closer to her as she fucks you. Your hips strive to meet her every thrust until her thumb starts circling your clit. Your movements stutter and Melissa’s fingers drive into you harder. The combination of being surrounded by her and the added danger of being caught begins to be too much to handle. Your walls flutter around thick fingers, her thumb speeding up against you.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you, love,” her voice sounds so sweet and with the nickname, it’s too much for you. Your attempt to be quiet flies out the window, crying out as you ride out your high on Melissa’s hand.

Wincing as she pulls out of your jeans, you bring her head back to yours for a slow kiss. When air becomes too much of a necessity, both of you pull away. Reaching down to button your pants back up, Melissa brings her fingers to her mouth to have a taste of you. There’s never been a hotter sight than her sucking your juices off of the fingers that were just inside you. Caught up in the moment, neither of you hears the tell-tale sounds of someone approaching.

Startling you both, Ava rips the door to her closet open, bathing you in light. “What the hell are you-,” she stops as she notices Melissa’s middle finger slip out of her mouth. Her eyes shift to focus on you. Your hair was a mess and your cardigan hung off of one shoulder. “You did not just do what I think you did.”

Your face instantly goes as red as Melissa’s hair, she just stands at your side and smirks.

“Get out of there!” Ava shouts and turns to point at you, “You’re supposed to be helping me get some!”

Melissa tangles her fingers with yours and Ava sighs, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Just get out of my bedroom. I’m gonna need it later.”

Not waiting for her to change her mind, you rush to pull the redhead into the hallway.

“Hey, wait,” Melissa tugs on your hand to stop you. “What do you think about getting out of here? I’m not done with you yet,” her goofy grin is back on her face and you’re not sure that you could be any happier than in this moment with her.

You press a soft kiss to her swollen lips and pull back just enough to look her in the eye. The I love you dances on your tongue but you stop yourself. Instead you say, “Take me home, Schemmenti.”

-

The next morning you wake up to tangled red hair in your face. A small smile graces your lips when you hear something on the nightstand vibrate. You reach over to grab your phone and you giggle at the text from Ava.

Mission accomplished. No thanks to you.

“What’s so funny?” The tangled mass of red hair asks, voice hoarse from the night before. Your phone vibrates in your hand again before you have the chance to respond.

I’m happy for you, though. Little Schemmenti babies would be cute. Just saying.

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Are you happy now?

A/N:- She's back! I needed some Jack Sloane and I'm a ball of sads at the moment so... Emotions! You're welcome! 🫣

Sum: - Her past wasn't easy to share but she trusted you most with it. Only it hit you heavier than she'd expected.

Jack Sloane was many things, strong, confident, easily angered. Those things you saw on a daily basis. Lately it had been the latter. You knew why, which was why you had avoided being in a confined space with her for two weeks now. It was a smart and stupid decision. The one that got you into the position you were in right now.

“Was it worth it?” She hissed, her arms crossed, standing a few feet away giving Jimmy the room to check you over. Any closer and she may hit you.

Jimmy really didn’t want to be here so he worked extra fast causing you to wince more than normal. “Sorry.” He whispered as he touched your bruised ribs a little too hard. “Here.” He handed you an ice pack to put on the already purple bruise.

She was so mad, looking over you as Jimmy worked. “Are you happy now?”

You rolled your eyes which only angered the blonde more. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” That wasn’t the response Jimmy or Jack expected. This wasn’t you, or was it now? “He didn’t deserve anything less for what he did to her. I only wish I shot him sooner.” This definitely wasn’t you, you were normally more level headed than most of the team.

The case had hit everyone hard. Especially you and Jack. You were the only one who knew about her past, in the army and before. She had to hold you back when you figured it out. Now this case had come up and you were full steam ahead, no sleep, no rest and then tackling the perp without anyone to back you up. That ended with him being shot but not before he managed to kick and punch you a few too many times. This meant desk duty for the next month, not because of your injuries but because of your actions.

The team had noticed your behaviour change. Jack more so than anyone because she knew why. It had gotten to the point where she almost, almost regretted telling you even though it was something you deserved to know about her.

“We don’t go around putting people in the ground. We –“ She had a whole spiel but you weren’t hearing it. The heavy sigh that came out of you almost had her stepping in to shut you up.

Jimmy had finished his inspection, wrapped your ribs and covered up the gash to your cheek. “Done, I’m going to just-“ He looked between you and got a nod from Jack.

“Thanks Jimmy.” You mumbled before hopping off the table. There was a sharp pain to your side and you almost keeled over. Jack stepped forward to help but stopped herself. The back door clicked closed and you knew you were alone.

“He wasn’t him.”

“I know Jack. You never gave me a name or time frame so I can’t do the thing I want to do but I needed something to get it out on.” You sighed, hearing yourself. There hadn’t been an outlet for your built up anger, the punching bag in the gym hadn’t even been enough.

She sighed moving forward. “This anger needs to stop. This is the reason I don’t want to tell you his name or where he liv-“

“Wait! You know where the fucker lives?! For Christ’s sake Jack, he’s in DC?” You almost fell backwards but she caught you. Her hands on your waist, avoiding the bruised areas.

Her forehead rested against yours. This had been the closest you two had been in a while. “Please stop. For me.” Your side of the bed had been cold for far too long and she needed you back in it. Her walls crumbling with the sight of you up close.

The way her voice almost broke, cut you the most. You had avoided her because you knew this would hurt her again. Your emotions had gotten the better of you and you kept your distance to protect her. You would always protect her and that’s what was killing you. “Ja-ck.”

She kissed you then, the desperation from the time apart bled into the kiss. “I just want you. I know you are the protector, it’s who you are and I love you for it but it’s not all you are. I am ok. Don’t let that horrible thing break you too. I couldn’t live with myself if it broke you too.” Her lips messily caught yours in blubbery, emotional kiss.

It rooted you to the spot. Her words, her emotions and you cried. The anger bleeding out through your tears. “I’m sorry baby.”

She tried her best to smile through the tears. “I know.”

“I love you too, you know.” A smile cracking at the corner of your mouth. It was the first time you were both admitting those feelings. “So much.”

The kiss said it all even if you heard the door open you didn’t separate. Tears mixed with growing smiles, it was too much emotion between two people. “Can we go home now?”

You just nodded against her neck, holding her closer and inhaling her scent you had missed so much. God, you missed her so much and it killed you that it was your own fault this had gotten between you.

“Thank you, Jimmy. She won’t be needing anymore assistance for a while.” Jack held you around the waist, your arm curled around her shoulders. As much as you could walk, you didn’t want to let her go.

Jimmy smiled at you both. He knew there was more between you than just friends. “I hope not. Take care of her.”

“I will.” You both said in unison and smiled at one another.

He chuckled to himself and walked off to his desk.

You rested your head in her shoulder as you waited for the elevator. “To answer your question earlier... Yes, I am happy now.” Well, happier than you’d been in a long time.

Jack laughed and punched your side. “Smart ass.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As much as it's all the emotions... I can't help but have a happy ending. Life sucks enough that you need to know your fav character has a happy ending.

[this-is-good-and-gay]

The One With The Girl’s Night

Summary: You and the ladies have a night at Melissa’s. Something you had been excited for.

Warnings: cute. profanities.

I know this is what yall want. So. Imma give it to you. Just for the record…imo, mel is straight. So like we’ll probs continue with that trend. But i have- many a request for this story line. So. Here. U. go.

A/n: I wish I could write funny little jokes and remarks like how they do in abbott. I simply cant so I apologize. Anyway enjoy you get another one today.

Also there is a request for girl’s night and i’m going to do a separate thing for that. So.

Tags: @ifnotlovepersevering , @devotedtofictionalwomen , @itsfleetoodmac, @midnight-lestrange , @fruityhahn , @arelyitsherec8 , @mochiadria, @ripofflizzie

You, Jacob, and Janine were in your way to Melissa’s. Janine’s car was in the shop and Jacob had already made plans to carpool with her before her car broke down that morning.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” Jacob said.

“Oh…yeah no problem,” you said flatly, your hands grabbing the steering wheel. It was ladies night. Jacob was not invited. But Janine felt bad he didn’t have any plans. So Jacob was suddenly in the car on the way to Melissa’s.

You pulled up and parked on the street. The three of you grabbing your dishes and wine that you brought.

“Oh, I’ll get that,” you heard Janine say.

“No, please it’s already in my hand. I got it,” Jacob argued.

You rolled your eyes hard as you stomped up the steps.

“No I’ll get it,” you mocked. You left them, not waiting for them to join you at the front door. You rang the doorbell knowing Ava and Barbra were already there.

“Hi- I-,” Melissa said opening the door, stopping herself when she saw Jacob walking up the drive way.

“Jacob,” she said, Barbra immediately handing the two of you a glass of wine.

“Talk to Janine,” you said, pushing through and taking a large gulp of the red juice.

“Why is he here? Man, I thought this was gonna be fun,” Ava said.

“Ava-,” Barbra scolded.

“What? You were thinkin’ it too,” Ava chuckled.

“Jacob,” Melissa began. Barbra shot her a look but there was nothing stopping her since it was her house. “You do know this is a girls night only…right?” she asked.

“Yeah Janine mentioned that. Don’t worry I can be one of the girls,” he said in all seriousness.

“I-,” Melissa began. You grabbed her, hoping she wouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Ok come on dinner is ready,” Barbra said quickly.

“Thank god. That was getting weird,” Ava laughed.

Barbra did a quick blessing of the food and then everyone grabbed their plates.

“This is delicious, who made this?” Melissa asked, taking a bite of some garlic cream potatoes.

“Oh me!” Jacob smiled.

“Wow Jacob,” Melissa said. “This is good.”

That was a big compliment from Melissa. A biiig compliment.

“It’s alright,” Ava said, pretending to be indifferent.

The conversation was light. Laughs, confusion, talks about students, upcoming events, who was black mailing who, and so on.

“Damn,” Melissa said, leaning back in her chair. “That was good,” she smiled. She made most of the food that night, but there were a few things she enjoyed from the bunch. Especially Ava’s fancy wine she brought.

“Janine will you help me with the dishes and Melissa and Y/n go and get the living room set up?” Barbra asked.

“No please, just leave it on the table I’ll deal with it later,” Melissa said.

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti you have to let me do something in this house for once,” Barbra said, taking Melissa’s plate from her hands. Everyone watched the interaction, no one saying a word.

“Uh oh,” Ava laughed, “the parents are fighting.”

“Shut up,” they both said simultaneously, Barbra yanking the plate completely from Melissa’s hands.

Ava gave them a look before laughing and standing to help take plates in. You watched as Janine stood to grab utensils and plates as well.

“Who wants more wine?” Melissa asked. A resounding ‘me’ swept through the kitchen as everyone responded.

“Ava where did you get this wine? It’s delicious,” you said.

“My boo. He has good taste right?” she asked. She flipped her hair as she emptied some food into the garbage.

“Mel,” you smiled, standing at the door. The two of you went in to move some furniture around.

The night was fun. You sat, you talked, you played some truth or truth games which slowly turned into dares.

“Wait you did what?” you asked, looking at Melissa.

“I had to make money somehow,” she said, her wine glass being moved about. Everyone was pretty tipsy by now. Barbra’s low resonance and Ava’s quick words at Jacob.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” Janine said, sipping her wine in the last word.

“I’ve done it,” Ava said, looking around.

“Shut the fuck up you did not,” Melissa said, truly not believing her. It sounded too much like something she would do the believability canceled out.

“I did. Hey I made bank,” Ava laughed.

“Wooow. I’m impressed,” Melissa smiled.

More talk happened as everyone got their second wind. More wine, more laughs, and then the serious talks started. It was late, and everyone was quite drunk at this point. Wine drunk.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Janine said as they brought up her and Gregory.

“Oh Janine come on, you two have been flirting for months now,” Barbra said.

“Wha- Barbra we have not,” Janine argued.

“Honey child, me and the good Lord knows that you two have been beating around the bush ever since you first met.”

“It’s true,” Melissa said. You just sat there, watching back and forth like at a tennis match.

“Well this has been fun but my man is here for me,” Ava said cutting the conversation.

“I should head out too,” Barbra said.

“You want a ride?” Ava asked.

“That would be lovely,” Barbra smiled. She stood, a wobble as the alcohol hit her limbs.

“I should get home too. I’ll just call an Uber though,” Jacob said.

“Oh okay,” Melissa said, standing.

“Thanks you guys for coming over. This was nice,” she said. Everyone was staggering about, the glasses of wine finally hitting the rest of their bodies as they stood.

“We should do this again,” Ava said at the door. “But not too soon. I already see yall every day.”

“Ava, we only see you at school if there is some problem and even still we barely see you,” Melissa said.

“And that’s still to often,” she said, putting her coat on.

The three of them left together, you and Janine left in the living room while Melissa grabbed another glass.

“Janine, I do want to say thank you,” you said.

“Awe…for what?” she asked.

“You’ve just done a lot to help me. Even though most of the time it doesn’t help at all, I know you’re trying to be helpful,” you said. You were just speaking, not noticing that she was getting emotional. It was the wine.

“I- thank you,” she said. “You know I just…I try so hard to make Abbott a safe haven for these kids. I want to make a difference in their lives,” she said, wiping away a tear.

“Are you crying?” you laughed.

“Pshh…,” she said. “No…,” she lied.

“Oh my god,” you said, standing to give her a hug.

“I think that is my cue that I need to go home,” Janine said, grabbing her phone to call an Uber. Melissa had begun to clean up in the kitchen. So as soon as Janine left, you walked in to help her.

“You want the guest room tonight?” she asked at the sink, not turning around.

“Can I borrow some clothes for tomorrow?” you asked.

“You’re bag is still here,” she said, still not looking at you.

“Oh perfect,” you smiled, walking some plates to her at the sink.

“You know that was really nice,” she said, turning towards you, her hand meeting her hip.

“I agree.”

The two of you finished up in the kitchen and moved back to the couch in the living room, your PJs now on.

“What?” she asked, noticing you staring at her.

“Nothing,” you said inquisitively.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just so rarely see you like how you were tonight,” you said.

“Keep looking at me like that and you won’t be seein’ me like this again,” she said, her wine glass swinging about.

“No please, I’m not trying-,”

“Nope…,” Melissa cut you off.

Both of your words were swirling and you felt that the world was spinning around you.

You watched as she stared ahead, her head spinning. So many thoughts were going through your head. At how beautiful she was without her makeup on.

“Why are you starin’ at me?” she asked softly, her eyes zoned out.

“Nothing. You’re just beautiful,” you finally said, giving her an answer. She turned to you, snapped out of her daze.

“Oh-,” she said. “Well I-,”

Without thought you leaned over, grabbed her cheek, and kissed her.

The fuck is happening you thought.

“Fuck- I um…,” you stammered pulling away. You didn’t for a second miss that she kissed you back.

“Hon um…” she said, looking forward again. “I-,”

“I am sorry that…I- I just-,” you couldn’t find any words. Your brain was fuzzy and all you wanted was to have another glass of wine. But that was how you got to this place. The glass was in your hand but it wasn’t moving to your mouth and even…

Your brain stopped. Eyes shut. Heart pounding. Her hand? On your cheek. Her glass? On the table. Her lips? Attached to yours. The two of you?

Holy. fuck.

———

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Melissa Schemmenti

The One With Masterlist

[this-is-good-and-gay]

3.  “Do you want to tell me happened?” - Melissa Schemmenti x Reader, love reading your Melissa x reader content.

Thanks, babe glad you're enjoying the Mel x reader fics!

Warning(s): Concern, Angsty, Depression?

Melissa found herself taking a deep breath, one of the first of her day. Her kids were in the schoolyard, screaming and running after each other. She couldn't help but crack a smile as she watched her class.

"Miss Schemmenti?" She jumped clutching her chest as her sunglasses flew off her face. Kids, they had the darndest way of sneaking up on her. As much as she hated when they did that she gave a soft grin guiding her student Mya in front of her.

"Yeah, kiddo what do you need?" Melissa looked the girl up and down assessing if a visit to the nurse was needed or a new pair of pants.

"Why is Miss Y/L/N crying? She said she wasn't, but my mom wipes her tears the same way and tells me she is fine." Melissa tried to hide her growing frown, she wasn't sure what was more heartbreaking Mya's mom or the fact you were somewhere crying. Mya's mom wasn't something she could fix but she hoped she could be there for you.

"Little eagle, why don't you go play? I'll check on her." Mya smiled before running off. Melissa got up, nodding over to Janine to watch the kids.

Secretly you were her newest soft spot, next to her kids, Barbara, and carbs but it was only you that made her heart race much too fast. It was also you who tugged on whatever strings she had running aimlessly from her heart.

You were one of the newest teachers, but the kids didn't haze you like the others, they, strangely enough, took care of you--almost sensing you were holding back something that made your eyes water quite often. But for Melissa, what made her like you so much was the way you took care of the kids as well--often staying late at school when kids parent's forgot to pick them up or playing board games with the kids when most other teachers would have tapped out for a break. You were her little angel despite you not knowing it.

Still, something was bothering you that you never seemed to mention when you spoke to her. Like behind your bubbly personality was someone deeply hurt.

She walked around the perimeter of the schoolyard. There weren't many places to hide naturally, but she knew only one that would hide a teacher wanting some alone time. She walked around the corner of the building. The spot had been hers the many times home had followed her to school. Sure enough, you were hiding behind a bush, your sniffles muffled as you wiped at your eyes.

"Hon?" Melissa slowly approached you, the tears falling from your eyes.

"Sorry," you said, trying to dry your face on your sleeve as fast as you could. You fidgeted, until Melissa came into your space, placing her hands atop your own. The touch stopped you cold and you felt exposed like another round of tears were welling up.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Melissa whispered. You opened your mouth, the words disappearing before leaving your lips. Lines formed between your eyebrows, tension settling until it released as you held onto Melissa...

[this-is-good-and-gay]

Honey?

Originally posted on Ao3

There’s a new storm coming and again, you’re all staying at Gibb’s. Except this time, you and Jack are in a relationship you’re trying to keep secret. Nick’s trying to push Jack to admit she’s having an affair with Gibbs doesn’t help your secret to last and they all know you’re together before the sun rises. 

Just wanted to let you know English isn’t my first language so I’m trying but it’s far from being perfect, I apologize for any mistake you might find there…

Gibbs curses at the dark sky while the five of you are making yourselves comfortable in front of the fireplace. Ellie hands you the pack of Marshmallows and you give it to Nick who’s offering some to Tim and Delilah. The front door opens again only to reveal Jimmy holding his three years old daughter, Breena and Kasie. The twins are already sleeping in Gibbs’ bedroom. You are amazed by how quickly they’ve fallen asleep, still traumatized by this painful memory of looking after Victoria for a whole weekend when she taught you what sleep deprivation reallys means.

You look at Gibbs standing by the window. You’re surprised he hasn’t tried to run away yet to hide in his basement. You know he offered to the team to sleep at his place because of the storm, not because he absolutely wanted to spend his night and probably his whole weekend with his big family. He didn’t want any of you to get hurt or to run out of power, especially with those little children. “This way if the power’s cut at your place, we’re all in trouble. That’s such a strong family spirit to stick together in the hardest time!” Gibbs has smirk but it hasn’t stopped him from slapping the back of your head to make you stop talking.

“Everyone’s here?” He barks not quite wanting anyone else to show up at his door. There are already way too many people in his living room.

“Forgot about me cowboy?” Jack yells from the front door, struggling to open it with her left foot. Nick’s eyes widen when he sees her with two sleeping bags and a big bag of clothes. You get on your feet to help her with them. “Planning to sleep in two different bags Jack?” Nick asks with a smirk. Jack rolls her eyes, amused. “Y/N texted me and said she forgot hers.”

Which isn’t a lie. You forgot yours, which has costed you disapproving look from Gibbs. But you didn’t care knowing Jack would drop by your place to collect some clothes. Because half her closet has already been moved in yours, it was just the smartest thing to do: driving at your place, collecting clothes for the both of you and taking those sleeping bags in the process. You’re sure Jack has forgotten to pick a pair of pyjamas ㅡ she always forgets ㅡ so you’ve packed one for her in your bag. So, really, those two seperate drops at your place were a necessity and a great idea. You’ve just omitted to mention to the rest of the team that Jack has been at your place, not at hers. You wonder if Gibbs knows. He probably knows. This man always does…

“Should I expect any other visitors tonight?” He mumbles again, staring back at the sky. It only gets darker and darker. The wind starts blowing. It’s probably going to be a long night. Jack lets him know she’s texted Fornell, Grace and Vance to make sure they were okay. He looks at her with fear in his blue eyes: has Jack invited them to join the little — big — group crashing in his living room? The question has to be obviously written all over his face as Jack’s hearted laughter fills the silent room. “Don’t worry cowboy, no one else’s coming tonight!” She giggles softly and rolls her eyes at the visible relief Gibbs seems now to be feeling.

“Marshmallows?” Jack skeptically asks with a hand on her hip as she bends over you to pick one. You fight the urge to lean back against her legs and turn your head to look at her. “Don’t tell me you, of all people, are going to complain about candies!” She pokes her tongue at you and quickly makes her way to Victoria who’s been calling her aunty Jack on the couch. Your smile softens at the sight of Jacqueline reading the little red riding hood at your niece who, you know, already knows the tale by heart.

“Everyone agrees to have steaks tonight?” You all know Gibbs’ question isn’t really a question. You don’t exactly feel like eating steaks tonight and you really have to take control over yourself not to tell him just for the pleasure to drive him mad. You know it’s something only you can do. Well. You, Tony and Abby but since you’re the only one left of the big pain in my ass trio , you have to work three times harder to make your former partners in crime proud of you. And let’s be honest, it’s good there’s someone to take care of Gibbs’ ego. It would grow way too fast without you. And Jack. Jack has proved herself to be an excellent ally in this quest.

You’ve been here for two hours and you haven’t managed to have a single moment with Jack. She’s always talking to someone. Not that you mind that everyone likes her this much. You’ve just been missing her today, barely seen her yesterday and leaving before she did this morning. You just want five minutes with your girlfriend. Especially when you catch Tim softly kissing Delilah’s lips. Jack’s talking with Jimmy and Kasie but her eyes meet yours from the other side of the room and a soft smile curves her lips. You know she’d like it too. But this soft ephemeral moment is interrupted by Nick standing in front of you, breaking your eyes contact.

“Ellie and I have a plan.

Keep reading

[this-is-good-and-gay]

A Trip To The Nurse

hello! this fic was not requested but i had the idea of the reader getting hurt and Melissa reacting so I ran with it, i’ll be getting back to requests tho so feel free to send! and thank you for all the support :))

warnings: very minor mention of a scrape/cut

-

Melissa was usually one of the first to arrive in the teacher’s lounge during lunch. Today was no different, she sat in her usual spot and watched the door. Watching the door during this time has become a new habit of hers, anxiously awaiting for you to walk in so she could shoot you a smile and immediately look down at her lunch. Not a lot of people made the south philly native nervous, but you did. She never knew what to say or how to act, almost like she was afraid you wouldn’t like her. Slowly but surely, everyone began walking into the shared space, everyone but you. By the time the room was (nearly) full, Janine asked about you. “So is she not coming today? I was hoping to chat with her about this show the two of us have been binging together.” Gregory, from the same table, answered. “Oh, yeah, no lunch today. I guess there was some sort of crafting accident right before the bell? I walked her students with mine to the lunch room and she ran off to see the nurse.

Melissa’s eyes shot up. She could feel the anxiety begin to settle as she started to think about what could’ve happened. Finally, she spoke up. “You think she’s still there now? The nurse’s?” Gregory nodded his head. Melissa stood up and started packing her lunch away. “Well I have to run back to my classroom for uh, some stuff, so I’ll go check on her. Thanks Gregory,” she stated as she was already walking out the door. Melissa practically ran through the halls to see what had happened to you. It couldn’t have been that bad, after all crafting in elementary school is a relatively safe activity, but she was worried about you. She couldn’t exactly place why she was so worried about you, but she couldn’t ignore it either.

You heard the clack of heels approach quickly towards the nurse’s door, catching your attention. Before you could react, a familiar red head was standing right beside you. “Oh Jesus, what did you do?” Melissa asked you. She sat on the edge of your bed and took your hand in hers, which was all bandaged up. “It’s so stupid,” you responded to her. She just stared at you, making a face as if to say ‘spit it out.’ Sighing, you spoke again. “A student of mine was running with a pair of scissors and I wasn’t exactly paying attention when I grabbed it from his hand,” You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. It wasn’t exactly the “coolest” of injuries to have. Melissa just smiled and shook her head at you, relieved it wasn’t anything crazy after all. “Is it bad? You gotta go to the hospital or anything?” She asked you, turning your hand over in hers to look at the bandage. Her voice was so gentle, a slight change of pace for a Schemmenti. “No, no, it’s really more of a scratch than anything. I just didn’t want my kids to see so I had Gregory take them to lunch and I came straight here,” You left out how severely it hurt but, she didn’t need to know that.

Melissa let go of your hand and reached down to the floor to grab something. “Lucky for you I had extra carbonara from last night, here.” She said, handing you a tupperware and fork from her bag. You stretched out your legs and thanked her for the meal, eating in silence while she told you all about her students from that day.

-

That afternoon, the kids had finally left your classroom, and you were at your desk grading the worksheets from the day. A knock at your door took you out of your trance. To your surprise, it was Melissa again. “Hey you,” you said to her, putting down your pen and turning to face her. “Hey kiddo, you still gradin’?” She asked. Her hips swayed as she walked over to your desk and you tried desperately not to watch. After a deep breath, you responded. “Yeah, it’s not as easy when one of my hands is bandaged so tightly I can barely feel my fingers. I’m about to rip the damn thing off.” She rolled her eyes at you and crossed her arms in front of herself. “Oh don’t you dare. You’d be asking for an infection.” You smiled and shook turned back over to your desk. “I’m serious you know,” she grabbed the back of your chair to spin you back towards her. “And don’t turn away from me when I’m talking, okay sweetheart?” She asked with the most mischievous smirk on her face. Your mouth went dry and you had to blink a few times before realizing she was expecting an answer. You couldn’t remember any word in the English language it seemed, so you settled on nodding your head.

“Attagirl,” Melissa praised you, and began walking out the door. “Finish those papers if you must but then go home,” she stopped when she got to the door frame and turned back to look at you. “I mean it,” she said, and walked out without another word. You were stunned, too stunned for that matter. But of course, after a few deep breaths, you did exactly as she asked.