queerstringcheese

[queerstringcheese]

more photos of the Pasadena magazine with Lisa Ann Walter were revealed and I am trying SO FUCKING HARD to act respectful on this platform. could I eat that girl for lunch? 🙂‍↔️

[queerstringcheese]

SHELDON & AMELIA

in Private Practice 4.01 — Take Two

A: What are you doing? S: I... came up for breakfast. A: Did it belong to someone else? Because you look guilty. S: I'm avoiding someone.

[queerstringcheese]

Unfinished Business

pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!reader

fandom: Abbott Elementary

summary: You tried to move on. She let you walk. But when Melissa sees you with someone else, she doesn’t just get jealous, she gets possessive. One heated encounter in a club storage closet forces you both to confront what’s really between you: sex, power, pain… and love.

word count: 1.8k+

🔞 Explicit / Mature Audiences Only

You knew this was a bad idea the second you stepped into the club.

But your friends convinced you. Said you needed to get out, loosen up, let someone else take your mind off her. The drinks were cold. The music was loud. The girl hanging off your arm was cute enough to distract you.

Almost.

Almost enough to forget the way Melissa’s hands used to move under your clothes like they had a right. Almost enough to block out the rasp of her voice when she growled in your ear, “You’re not leaving this bed until I fuckin’ say so.”

But nothing numbed the ache that bloomed ever since you started pulling away. Since the night you told her, “I want something real,” and she just shrugged. Like you hadn’t handed her your heart and watched her drop it at her feet.

So no, you didn’t expect to see her here tonight.

Not like this.

But there she was. Propped against the bar. All black leather and fire. Arms crossed. Jaw clenched. Eyes locked on you like she could burn your little rebound girl to ash.

You pretended not to notice. Even laughed at something your date said, something you barely registered.

But your chest tightened.

Because you felt Melissa before you saw her move.

She was beside you in seconds.

“What the fuck is this?” she asked, voice low like she was playing nice. But her eyes were anything but. They flicked to the girl’s hand resting on your thigh, then back to you. Dark. Dangerous.

“Melissa,” you said stiffly. “We’re not together. Remember?”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Right. We were never anything, huh?”

You glared. “You told me it was just sex.”

“Yeah,” she snapped, stepping closer, “and then you ran off with some wide-eyed baby who can’t even keep her hands to herself.”

“She’s sweet,” you fired back. “And she listens to me.”

“I listened,” she growled. “I listened real good when you were moanin’ into my mouth every goddamn night.”

The girl beside you stiffened, then stood abruptly, mumbling something about a drink. You didn’t stop her. Didn’t even blink.

Because Melissa’s hand was already on your wrist. Warm. Firm. Hers. And she was pulling.

Through the crowd. Away from the lights. Into the dark.

The music faded as she yanked open a side door and shoved you inside. A dim storage closet. Low-lit. Narrow. Smelling like bleach and broken rules. The door slammed shut behind you.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud.

“What the hell, Melissa?” you spit, though your voice was already breathy. “Where are we—”

“Somewhere I don’t have to watch her touch you like she knows what you need.”

She caged you in. Palms on either side of your head. Close. Too close. Her breath brushed your cheek but she didn’t touch you.

Not yet.

“You think I stopped wanting you?” she murmured. “You think that girl out there sees you the way I do?”

Your pulse jumped. You tried to look away. She tilted your chin right back.

“She doesn’t know how you sound when you break,” she said, her voice tighter now. “Doesn’t know how you beg when you’re right there on the edge. But I do. I remember.”

Her thigh slotted between yours like she never forgot where it belonged. Slow. Sure. Intentional. You flinched. Not in fear, but recognition.

“She ever make you soak through your panties just by looking at you?” she asked, voice mocking, hungry.

You tried to stay silent.

But your hips betrayed you, grinding down just enough to make her smirk.

“Thought so.”

Her hand slipped up your skirt. Teasing. Deliberate. Until her fingers found you. Wet and wanting.

“Still wearing the lace I like?” she purred, eyes flicking down, hunger written all over her face.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you whispered. The lie fell apart the second it left your mouth.

She leaned in, lips grazing your jaw, down to the pulse hammering in your neck. “You prayed I’d be here, didn’t you? Been aching for it. For me.”

Then her fingers were inside your panties. Slick with ease. Sliding through your arousal like it was second nature. Two fingers. Then three. Deep. Possessive.

“Fuck,” she hissed, the word rough and thick. “You’re soaked. That for me, sweetheart? Or is that just your new girlfriend’s leftovers? She even try to get you like this? Did she even know how?”

You whimpered. Hips bucking. Helpless. “She’s not—”

She cut you off with her mouth. Fierce. Consuming. Her tongue mirrored her fingers. Claiming. One hand knotted in your hair. The other worked you open with maddening, expert control. Like she was relearning every inch of you. But she never really forgot.

“You gonna come just from my fingers?” she panted into your mouth, breaking the kiss just enough for you to breathe her in. “You used to. Used to beg me for it. My needy little slut.”

You nodded. Frantic. Moaning. “Yes. Please. Melissa, please.”

“Fuckin’ good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

She curled her fingers. Just right. Your knees buckled. Your whole body jolted like lightning. You clung to her shoulders, nails digging in, trembling.

She laughed. Low. Possessive. Dark against your throat. It wasn’t just sound. It was a brand.

“No hiding this time,” she breathed, catching your wrist when you tried to muffle your gasps. “I want to hear everything. Every sound you make for me.”

And you gave it to her.

You fell apart in her hands, calling out her name like a prayer and a threat. Your body convulsed around her fingers. Your back arched. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t know if they came from pleasure or the sheer gravity of her.

But she didn’t stop.

Her touch was relentless. Dragging you through wave after wave. Like she was trying to hollow you out and fill you with nothing but her.

“Oh no,” she growled, voice low and certain. “You’re not done until I say you’re done. And I’m not fuckin’ done.”

She dropped to her knees.

Your panties slid down in one slow, reverent drag. And then her mouth was on you. Hot. Filthy. Hungry.

“Still taste like fucking heaven,” she murmured. Half into your skin. Half to herself.

You writhed. Helpless. Her name broke out of you again and again. Hands tangled in her hair. Pulling. Holding on. She dragged climax after climax from you like it was her right. Her body. Her pleasure. Her home.

And when she finally stood, her lips were glossy. Her eyes dark and blown wide. She looked wrecked. Like you. Like this tore her open.

She grabbed your face in both hands. Grounding you. Her thumbs stroked your jaw. Soft. Her forehead pressed to yours. Breath ragged. Shared.

“I don’t want just sex,” she said, low and rough and shaking. “I want you. All of you. Even the parts that scare me. The ones you hide. The ones that only ever belonged to me.”

You met her eyes.

And it was all there.

The truth. The hunger. The fear. The hope. And the raw, relentless love she swore she didn’t want.

You kissed her.

Messy. Desperate. Real.

And for once, there was no armor. No push and pull. Just her. Just you.

Because this wasn’t just possession.

It was coming home.

To the only place you were ever truly free.

And truly hers.

You were still fixing your hair when the door creaked open and let in the thump of bass again. Melissa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand like she hadn’t just ruined you against a wall.

“Pull your dress down,” she muttered, eyes on your thighs. “Unless you want everyone to know I fucked the attitude out of you.”

You blinked. Lips swollen. Pulse still erratic. “I—”

“I said what I said,” she cut in, voice taut. “Now come on.”

She grabbed your hand like it was hers to hold and didn’t even glance back as she led you through the crowd. Past the pulsing lights. Past the cloying perfume and blurred faces. But it wasn’t long before one of them stopped you both cold.

“Seriously?”

You turned your head.

It was her.

The girl from before. Still holding her drink. Still wide-eyed. Except now her gaze was cold and clear.

Melissa’s hand tightened on yours.

“Everything okay?” the girl asked, her voice syrupy-sweet with sarcasm. Her eyes flicked between you and Melissa. “Or did you just need to, what was it, talk in private?”

You opened your mouth. But Melissa stepped in first. Of course she did.

“Look,” she said, her tone flat and unforgiving. “I get it. You had your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you, and you’re feeling a little embarrassed. But I’m gonna make this simple so we don’t have to drag it out.”

The girl blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You were a placeholder,” Melissa said, calm like a blade. “A nice distraction while she figured out what she really wanted.”

You bristled. “Melissa—”

“No. You hush,” she snapped, eyes still on the girl. “You got your closure already.”

The girl scoffed. “Wow. You’re a piece of work.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a fuckin’ masterpiece,” Melissa fired back, tilting her head. “But that’s not your problem anymore, is it?”

There was a beat. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

You stepped forward. Tugged your hand out of Melissa’s grip gently. “I’m sorry,” you said to the girl, softer. “This wasn’t fair to you.”

She nodded. Curt. Wounded. Then walked off without another word.

Melissa watched her go with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You done?” you asked.

Melissa finally looked at you. Really looked. Her face cracked just enough to let you see the truth underneath the swagger. Panic. Regret. And something deeper. Something that felt a lot like love.

“I just don’t like sharing,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Never did.”

You let out a breath. “Then maybe stop acting like I’m something you get to keep in a closet until you’re ready.”

That stung. You watched it land.

Melissa swallowed. Looked away. Her jaw flexed.

“I didn’t know how else to… I thought if I kept it just physical, I wouldn’t lose you. But not having you at all?” She finally met your eyes. “That was worse.”

The club swirled around you. The bass thudded. The lights strobed. But all you saw was her. Standing in the middle of it all like she just admitted she bleeds.

You stepped in close. Not kissing. Not touching. Just there.

“Then don’t lose me,” you said. “But you don’t get to burn everything around me just to keep me warm. Got it?”

Melissa nodded slowly. “Yeah. Got it.”

And when she reached for your hand again this time, you let her.

But it was different now.

Not a claim.

A choice.

[queerstringcheese]

Autism and Struggling With Phone Calls

Neurodivergent Lou

[queerstringcheese]

melissa x fem!reader where reader is jacob's sister and melissa says it's ok if she stays with them while she visits but they catch feelings fast. bonus points if reader decides to stay at the end (and maybe work at abbott?)

Sister, Sister

(really no warnings/tags, this is just a cute lil thing😇, fluff!)

Word Count: 6k

taglist <3: @writerspirit @schemmentigfs

~

"Melissa," Jacob said, following her into the kitchen like a particularly nervous shadow, "do you believe in the spirit of generosity?"

Melissa didn't look up from her coffee. "Jacob. You're already living in my house."

"Exactly!" he chirped, trying for cheerful but landing somewhere between guilty and manic. "And it's been so generous of you. The way you let me move in—and may I say, I've felt so at home, especially once I got over the smell of Vicks VapoRub in your bathroom—"

"You used my towel, Jacob."

"I said I was sorry!"

She gave him a look that could blister drywall. "What do you want?"

"Okay. Hypothetically. What if someone else needed a place to stay too?"

Melissa narrowed her eyes. "If this is about moving more of your jackets into my closet, the answer is still no."

Jacob laughed nervously. "No! Nothing like that! It's not for me. It's for... my sister."

Melissa blinked. "You don't have a sister."

"I do!" he said quickly. "You've just never met her because she lives in D.C. and has this wildly impressive life and she's very kind and beautiful and calm and basically the anti-me."

Melissa raised a brow. "So she's imaginary."

"She's real," he huffed. "And she's coming into town for a job interview. For a teaching job. At a charter school."

Melissa immediately narrowed her eyes. "Strike one."

"Or—" Jacob jumped in— "possibly at a public school if she can get her foot in the door. Which brings me to the thing I need to ask."

She stared at him over the rim of her mug.

"She was going to stay with a friend, but they had a pipe burst and now she doesn't have anywhere to go and I thought, well, I already live in your guest room—"

"—against my better judgment—"

"—and since she's only here for a few days, maybe she could crash on the couch or bunk with me or something? She's neat. Quiet. Way too nice for this family. You'll barely notice her."

Melissa sighed. She already knew she was going to say yes, and that fact alone irritated her. "Christ. Fine. She can stay."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. I got soft somehow. Must be all the estrogen from your skin care products."

Jacob hugged her. "You won't regret this! She's grounded. She's calm. And she's very pretty. Like, in a classic, non-threatening way."

Melissa narrowed her eyes. "Why would that matter?"

"No reason!" Jacob squeaked, backing toward the hall. "I'll go pick her up from the train!"

An hour later, you showed up on Melissa's doorstep wearing a soft sweater, nice jeans, and a nervous smile. You had a rolling suitcase, a canvas tote full of books, and a voice that made Melissa freeze when you said:

"Hi! You must be Melissa. Thanks so much for letting me stay—I promise I'll be a ghost. A very grateful, polite, dishwashing ghost."

Melissa blinked. You were warm. Pretty. Calm in a way that made the world around you feel quieter.

"Uh, yeah," she said, stepping aside. "Come in. Shoes off, thermostat's sacred, and don't let Jacob near the air fryer."

You laughed. "Noted."

Jacob wasn't wrong. You were easy. You complimented her throw pillows, helped her plate dinner without being asked, and when you sat at the table between her and Jacob, you looked more like you belonged there than he did.

She was supposed to be annoyed by the whole situation.

Instead, she kept glancing at you across the table—and couldn't stop wondering what your hair would smell like if you leaned just a little closer.

Melissa kept waiting for the awkwardness to kick in—for you to say something weird, or ask too many questions, or knock over a glass and apologize sixteen times. But you didn't. You just... fit.

Jacob did most of the talking (as usual), bouncing between stories about work and whatever book club he'd temporarily joined this week, while you laughed in all the right places and added thoughtful little interjections that somehow made Melissa want to talk more.

Which she never did. Not at dinner. Not like this.

When the food was gone and Jacob finally excused himself ("I have a call with my therapist-slash-poetry coach"), Melissa didn't even try to stop you from helping with the dishes. You stood next to her at the sink like it was something you'd done a hundred times before—easy, companionable, quiet except for the soft clink of forks in suds.

She handed you a towel. You dried the plates without her asking.

"So," you said, your voice low, not prying, "do you like working at Abbott?"

Melissa paused. Most people asked if she liked kids. You didn't. You asked about the school. The work.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do."

You glanced over at her, eyes kind. "Jacob says the kids love you."

She snorted. "Jacob says that because he's scared of me."

"I can see why," you teased, a playful glint in your eye. "You're very... intimidating. What with the apron and dish soap."

That made her smile. Damn it.

A few minutes later, you both had full wine glasses and had settled on the couch. Melissa curled into the corner without thinking. You mirrored her without hesitation.

"So," you asked, "what made you become a teacher?"

She didn't usually answer that question. Not really. But you waited, not filling the silence, not pushing.

"Kids get overlooked," she finally said. "Especially the loud ones. Or the ones with crap going on at home. I figured if I could be the one adult that sees 'em..." she shrugged, "that'd be worth something."

You were quiet for a beat.

Then, softly: "That is worth something."

When you looked at her again, Melissa saw it in your eyes. You weren't just being polite. You meant it. And somehow that was worse.

She drained the rest of her wine and stood. "Alright, enough sincerity for one night."

You grinned. "My lips are sealed."

She showed you where the towels were, muttered something about how Jacob stole all the good toothpaste, and tried not to notice the way you lingered in the hallway a little too long, looking around like it already felt a little bit like home.

And when she turned back toward the kitchen—just for one last glass of water—she passed the guest room with the door cracked open.

And you were there.

Not dressed up. Not tucked in. Just... you.

Standing near the bed in a loose, faded T-shirt, wiping off the last of your makeup with practiced, absent swipes. Your hair was soft now, not styled, just hanging around your face like you'd had a long day and stopped pretending it didn't wear you out.

You caught her watching.

She expected you to jump, to pull the door shut.

But instead, you smiled—gentle, quiet, warm.

"Goodnight, Melissa."

Melissa opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

"Night," she managed.

She walked away before she could do something stupid like ask if you wanted a cup of tea. Or tell you how nice you looked like that. Or admit that she didn't actually mind you being here.

That she liked it.

Instead, she lay in bed with the lamp off, staring at the ceiling, every soft part of her trying to win a war against the hard edge she'd spent years perfecting.

She was supposed to be annoyed.

She wasn't.

⸻

Melissa was already up when you wandered into the kitchen the next morning, your hair pulled half-up, eyes soft with sleep. You wore the same sweater from the night before, sleeves pushed up just past your elbows, and Melissa had to look away for a second because—Jesus—why was that so disarming?

"Morning," you said, voice still scratchy and gentle. "I didn't expect you to be up."

"I'm always up by six," she said, sliding a second mug of coffee toward you like it wasn't something she'd poured automatically the second she heard the floor creak.

You looked at it, then up at her. "You made me coffee?"

Melissa shrugged. "Didn't want Jacob ruining my ratio. He always adds too much creamer."

You smiled over the rim of the mug after your first sip. "This is really good."

"Don't tell him," she said, suddenly warm in the face. "He'll start expecting it."

You leaned on the counter across from her. "I already told him you're intimidating. But now I think I'm just impressed."

That made Melissa look up at you.

There it was again. That soft, real thing in your eyes. Like she didn't have to prove anything to you. Like you already saw her. And worse, like you liked what you saw.

"Do you always get this flirty before 7 a.m.?" she asked, trying to play it off, sipping her own coffee.

Your smile turned sheepish. "I'm only flirty when I'm nervous. I've got that interview this morning—remember?"

Oh. Right. The job. The possible move.

Melissa cleared her throat. "Charter school, right? In West Philly?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Not exactly my dream gig, but it's a start. Figured I'd try and move here either way. Be closer to Jacob. And—" You hesitated for half a beat. "I don't know. This place just feels... good."

Her stomach flipped.

She told herself it was the coffee.

"Good luck," she said. "You'll be great."

Before you could answer, chaos incarnate stormed into the kitchen (aka Jacob, wearing mismatched socks, a wrinkled button-up, and a righteous sense of urgency).

"Who touched my granola bar stash?!" he demanded, pointing wildly. "Melissa. Did you eat the one with the dark chocolate and sea salt? Be honest."

"I hid the one with the dark chocolate and sea salt," Melissa said flatly.

You held up your hands. "I swear I didn't touch the sacred snacks."

Jacob narrowed his eyes suspiciously but then noticed the coffee.

"Ooh! Did you make—" He took a sip from Melissa's mug and nearly choked. "Why is it strong enough to exfoliate my tongue?"

"Out," Melissa said, taking her mug back.

You grinned, grabbing your tote. "I should head out anyway. Wish me luck?"

Jacob launched into an elaborate two-minute affirmation ritual complete with finger hearts and a reference to Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Melissa just met your eyes and gave a quiet nod.

"Let me know how it goes."

You lingered for a second longer than necessary. Then nodded and left.

And Melissa stood there, mug in hand, throat dry, pretending she didn't feel like she'd just handed something important out the door.

⸻

"Wait, your sister is here?" Janine spun around so fast her curls hit Gregory in the face.

Jacob nodded, sitting on the edge of Barbara's desk. "Yep. She's in town for a job interview. Staying with me and Melissa."

Janine blinked. "With Melissa? And Melissa's okay with it?"

"I know, right?" Jacob grinned, proud and baffled. "I thought it'd be a whole thing. Like... Melissa would do that eye squint where you're not sure if she wants to kill you or just remove your spleen."

"She's very protective of her space," Barbara added diplomatically.

"I thought she hated houseguests," Janine whispered.

"She does," Barbara confirmed.

"Well, apparently not this one," Jacob said, pouring oat milk into his cup with a dramatic flourish. "She made her coffee this morning."

Janine's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "She shared her coffee?!"

"It wasn't just sharing. It was... intimate. They had, like, a moment. And Melissa didn't even threaten me."

Gregory shook his head. "Maybe she just likes your sister?"

Everyone froze.

Jacob slowly turned. "Gregory. With the dangerous ideas."

Barbara chuckled softly, then looked at Jacob. "Well, now I want to meet her."

Janine lit up like a lightbulb. "Yes! Bring her to Abbott! I need to see this mysterious Schemmenti-softener for myself."

You, meanwhile, had lasted approximately twelve minutes at the charter school before realizing it wasn't for you.

Maybe it was the cold tile floors. Or the way the front desk staff barely looked up. Or the framed quote in the hallway that read, "Rigidity breeds success."

Whatever it was, by the time the assistant principal used the word "compliance" for the third time, you were done.

You ducked into the parking lot and called the only person you knew in town with unfailing enthusiasm and a five-minute window between classes.

"Hey," you said, trying not to sound deflated.

Jacob answered instantly. "Did you get hired already?!"

"God, no. I barely got out. I think they wanted me to monitor bathroom breaks with a stopwatch."

"Yikes. That's a no."

"Big no," you sighed. "I still have time to kill before you're off. Should I just head home?"

There was a pause.

Then, "Come to Abbott."

You blinked. "What?"

"You're literally two blocks away. Come to Abbott. You can help in my classroom. We're doing paper mâché Egyptian tombs, and half of my students are allergic to glue sticks, apparently."

You hesitated.

He pushed. "C'mon. Janine wants to meet you. Barbara will adore you. And Melissa—"

"What about Melissa?"

"Melissa won't care," he said a little too fast. "Just come."

Twenty minutes later, you were standing outside the chaotic, sunlit doors of Abbott Elementary, tote bag over your shoulder, second-guessing every life choice—until the door swung open and Janine Teagues practically bounced toward you.

"Oh my god," she said, pulling you into a hug like you were long-lost family. "You're so cute! Jacob undersold you. Come in! Are you an Earth sign?"

You laughed. "Um, Taurus?"

"I knew it. Come on, I'll show you around before we go to Jacob's room."

The building was older, colorful, loud in the way that meant it was alive. Teachers ducked in and out of rooms, kids darted down the hall laughing, and everything smelled vaguely like crayons and possibility.

Barbara Howard greeted you with a measured nod and a warm smile. "Jacob's sister," she said, shaking your hand. "He speaks very highly of you."

"That's sweet," you replied, glancing at Jacob. "Though slightly suspicious."

Barbara chuckled. "You'll do just fine here."

And then—then—you passed her room.

Melissa was at her desk, arms crossed, eyes on something in her gradebook, red pen in hand like a weapon. She didn't look up.

But you felt her glance. Just for a second.

You smiled anyway. "Hey."

She looked up—briefly. "Hey."

Janine leaned in. "We'll be in Jacob's class if you need backup. Or a snack. Or a soul reading."

Melissa blinked at her, then looked at you again. "You here all day?"

"Just helping out," you said lightly. "Trying to stay out of trouble."

"Good luck," she muttered, eyes flicking to Jacob. "He's a magnet for chaos."

"I'll protect him," you grinned.

Something flickered in her expression—amusement? Fondness? She didn't answer. Just nodded and returned to grading, but her pen didn't move for several long seconds.

Jacob's class was... something.

You'd forgotten the raw chaos of middle school energy. These kids weren't afraid to test boundaries—or glue their tombs shut with Elmer's and an alarming amount of glitter.

But you handled it.

You redirected questions. You diffused drama. You helped one student design a sarcophagus lid while another asked if you were married, and when you said no, she whispered, "Miss Schemmenti is also not married," like she'd just discovered a critical piece of state intelligence.

At lunch, you sat with Janine, Barbara, and Jacob in the lounge while Gregory gave you a slow once-over, nodding politely.

"Jacob's sister, huh?" he said. "Didn't expect you to be so quiet."

"She's deceptively calm," Jacob added, mouth full of granola bar. "Like a duck on water. Serene on the surface, kicking like hell underneath."

"She's good with the kids," Barbara said warmly. "Very natural. I assume you're considering local options?"

You hesitated, and your eyes flicked—without thinking—toward the second grade classroom just down the hall.

"Maybe," you said softly.

⸻

That night, back at Melissa's, you helped with dinner again without being asked. Jacob flitted in and out, offering critiques from the sidelines, until Melissa swatted him with a dishtowel and sent him to set the table.

You sautéed vegetables. Melissa grilled chicken. You found a rhythm.

"You didn't mention you were good with kids," she said casually as she stirred something on the stove.

"You didn't mention you were watching me," you replied, teasing.

She smirked. "I wasn't."

"Sure."

There was a beat of silence.

"You made it look easy," she said eventually, a little quieter.

You shrugged. "It felt easy."

You turned and caught her looking again. Just briefly. But her expression had softened.

Dinner was relaxed. Jacob told an overly dramatic story about a student who tried to claim his tomb had been cursed, and you leaned into the table with a quiet laugh that made Melissa watch your mouth more than she should've.

Afterward, the three of you ended up on the couch, full and lazy, with half a glass of red wine each and Jeopardy playing low on the TV.

"Please," Jacob said, tossing a throw pillow over his face. "She's a human encyclopedia. I'm begging you not to buzz in."

You grinned, already sitting up straighter. "I can't help it. It's genetic."

"You're adopted."

Melissa snorted into her wine.

Ten minutes in, you'd correctly answered six questions in a row—without hesitation.

Melissa turned to you slowly. "You're a trivia nerd."

You nodded proudly. "Big time. My brain's basically 70% facts no one asked for."

She laughed—really laughed. "You're kidding."

"Nope. I used to run a bar trivia night back home. Thursdays were 'Obscure History' rounds. I got booed a lot."

Melissa looked at you like she was trying not to smile too hard. "You'd kill at poker."

"I'm terrible at poker," you said, dead serious. "I can't bluff for anything."

Jacob groaned. "Don't bond over gambling. You're encouraging her."

But Melissa wasn't listening to him.

She was watching you—with your socked feet tucked under you, your makeup off, a soft t-shirt that made your eyes look warmer somehow—and she was thinking about how easy it was to sit next to you. How you didn't fill the space with noise. How your laugh stayed with her longer than the punchlines.

Jacob dozed off partway through Final Jeopardy.

You and Melissa stayed up.

Quiet. Comfortable.

When she finally stood, stretching with a soft groan, she glanced back at you.

"You settling in okay?" she asked.

You smiled. "Better than okay."

And maybe she shouldn't have liked that answer so much.

The next morning, Jacob's class was knee-deep in paper-mâché chaos when you arrived—but instead of corralling middle schoolers again, he passed you a coffee and a sly smile.

"Change of plans. Melissa needs a hand today. Her aide called out."

Your heart thumped.

"Oh?"

"She didn't ask for you," he added quickly. "She just said she needed someone competent and not Ava. I filled in the blanks."

You sipped your coffee. "Did she... seem okay with it?"

"She didn't throw anything."

"That's your metric?"

Jacob shrugged. "She didn't throw something at me. So I figured we were good."

Melissa's classroom was calmer than Jacob's, but only in that it wasn't actively on fire.

She looked up from a spelling worksheet when you stepped in and didn't smile—but the slight softening of her eyes was just as good.

"You got drafted?"

"Apparently."

She nodded to the whiteboard. "We're doing compound words and then a read-aloud. And if Jacob asks about his pencil again, I told him you cast a protective spell on it."

You laughed and moved to her side instinctively. "Did I?"

"Clearly. He hasn't lost it all day."

By snack time, the kids were glued to your read-aloud voice. By lunch, Melissa had let you handle half the spelling review. By math, she caught herself watching you again—your hands, your patience, the way the students leaned toward you like flowers to sun.

She crossed her arms tighter and turned away.

She was not falling for Jacob's sister.

Barbara noticed. Of course Barbara noticed.

She stepped into Melissa's room during recess, leaned casually against the bookshelf, and fixed Melissa with that look—the one that could peel paint from the walls.

"She's good," Barbara said mildly.

Melissa didn't look up. "Mmhmm."

"Kind. Calm. The children like her."

"I noticed."

"And you like her."

Melissa finally looked at her. "She's Jacob's sister."

Barbara raised one regal eyebrow. "And you're a grown woman."

Melissa exhaled. "It's a bad idea."

Barbara's smile was faint but knowing. "Maybe. Or maybe you just don't want to admit you feel soft about something."

Melissa opened her mouth, closed it, then muttered, "I hate when you're right."

Barbara's chuckle was like gospel. "Then you're going to really hate what's about to happen."

Their staff meeting after school was supposed to be about art supply ordering.

It was not.

Because Janine, Gregory, Barbara, Jacob, and even Mr. Johnson had decided they were not letting you disappear.

"She's literally perfect," Janine was saying, hands waving. "She can teach, she knows kids, and she doesn't flinch when a second grader sneezes directly into her mouth! Hire her!"

Ava, on her phone in sunglasses, did not look up. "We already have teachers."

"We have a hallway ghost aide position open!" Jacob cried. "She'd be perfect!"

"She's from out of town," Ava said. "What if she's just here for vibes and brunch?"

"She applied to Liberty," Melissa said suddenly.

Everyone turned.

Ava squinted. "Why do you know that?"

Melissa shrugged, too casual. "She told me. After I said she was good with the kids."

Barbara sipped her tea smugly. Janine let out an audible gasp.

Gregory blinked. "So we all agree she should stay?"

"Yes," said everyone.

Ava groaned. "Fine. I'll talk to HR. But if she ghosts us after I start her paperwork, I'm sending her a Molotov in the mail."

Meanwhile, in the quiet kitchen back at Melissa's house, you were spooning pasta into a bowl and thinking about the kids who hugged you goodbye.

Thinking about the way Melissa's voice softened when she said, "You here all day?"

Thinking—maybe, maybe—you didn't want to leave after all.

⸻

The next morning started with rain, a stubbed toe, and Melissa offering you a mug of coffee with a gruff, "You good?" that sounded a little too much like don't leave for her comfort.

You nodded, hugging the cup. "I've got the Liberty interview after school."

She didn't look up from the toaster. "Right."

"They're big on tech integration, I guess. Lots of digital dashboards."

"That sounds like a nightmare."

You snorted. "Yeah, but at this point I need a job."

Melissa set the toast down harder than necessary. "Ava's supposed to interview you today."

You blinked. "What?"

"She's dragging her feet, as usual. But it's happening. After lunch."

"Wait, she actually said she'd do it?"

"She said if she had time between 'administering justice' and her lash appointment, she'd try."

You laughed into your mug. "That's promising."

Melissa didn't smile. Just looked at you—wet hair in soft waves, hoodie sleeves pushed up, sleepy eyes—and felt something crawl up her spine that she did not have time for.

"I'm just saying," she said, almost too casually, "you've already got people here who like you. That's worth something."

Your heart did a soft, dumb little flip.

But before you could answer, Jacob came crashing into the kitchen, soaked from the rain and ranting about a pigeon that stole his umbrella.

Melissa rolled her eyes and muttered, "Never mind."

⸻

At lunch, Ava finally remembered she was supposed to be doing something work-adjacent.

"Interview time!" she said, bursting into the teacher's lounge in a lime green tracksuit and sparkly slides. "Let's get this over with before I start reading your aura."

You blinked. "Wait, now?"

Jacob cheered. "Yay! You're gonna kill it!"

Barbara gave you a wink, and Janine practically dragged you to Ava's office, where a "job interview" was already in full swing. If you could call it that.

Ava had her feet on her desk and sunglasses on indoors. "So, tell me your name again. For legal reasons."

You blinked. "It's on my resume."

"Right. And what makes you wanna work at the greatest school in Philly?"

Janine popped up with a notepad like she was your agent. "She's good with kids, adaptable, certified in two states, and Jacob's sister but in a good way."

"I still say we make her co-assistant principal," Ava mused. "Then I don't have to attend meetings. Or answer emails. Or—wait, what's the job she's applying for again?"

You turned to Barbara, who gave you a rare, gentle smile from the seat beside Ava. "You belong here, dear. That's what we're saying."

You blinked. "All of you?"

A voice behind you—steady, low, familiar—answered.

"Yes."

You turned.

Melissa stood in the doorway, arms crossed like usual, but her eyes were soft. "You belong here."

And for the first time in a while, you believed it.

Back in the hallway after, Melissa walked with you in companionable silence.

"You're still going to Liberty?"

"I kind of have to. It's scheduled."

She nodded. "Right."

A beat.

"You know we'd take care of you here, right?"

You turned, a little startled.

Her eyes were dark, steady. "If you stayed."

You felt the air shift.

"Yeah," you said. "I know."

You didn't say it out loud, but you already knew the truth:

Liberty never stood a chance. You felt drawn to Abbott.

And maybe the people—one in particular.

Later than evening, Jacob left for a book reading at seven.

He hovered in the doorway with his tote bag and his excitement and his gentle insistence that you should come because it was "a very timely queer memoir and the author includes footnotes!", but you begged off, blaming a fake headache and an even faker yawn.

"I'll just stay in," you said, rubbing your temple. "Long day."

He bought it. Or pretended to. Either way, you waved him out and stayed behind.

With Melissa. Alone.

She didn't say much at first. Just went about reheating leftovers, her motions precise, practiced. You offered to help, and she handed you silverware and salad tongs without meeting your eye.

Dinner was quiet. Peaceful.

You sat across from each other, plates between you, the hum of the fridge filling the spaces where Jacob's chatter usually lived.

"I think I'm staying," you said eventually, voice low.

Melissa didn't look surprised. She nodded once. "Yeah?"

You pushed a piece of lettuce across your plate. "It's not just Abbott. Though it is that. I... haven't felt that wanted in a long time."

She looked up then. Met your eyes. "You should feel wanted."

You swallowed. "It's been a weird couple of years. I've moved around a lot. Never quite stuck. And I started thinking maybe it was me. That maybe I'm just not someone people... keep."

Melissa set her fork down.

"That's not true."

Your chest ached. "You don't know that."

"I know what I see."

You blinked.

Her voice was softer now, but steady. "The way my kids look at you. The way you listen. Like what they say matters."

You gave her a small, uneven smile. "Maybe I'm just good at pretending."

"You're not."

That stilled you.

She leaned back slightly, searching your face, like she wanted to say something more but didn't know how to get it past her teeth.

So you gave her a thread to pull. "Why do you care so much?"

Melissa's brow creased. "Because you matter."

Simple. Quiet. Like it had been true for a while now.

You didn't speak.

Just watched her, heart in your throat, as she reached for her wine and didn't drink it.

The air between you tightened. Subtle. Magnetic.

Your eyes dipped to her mouth.

And hers—to yours.

Neither of you moved. Not quite. But something shifted.

Her hand twitched like it wanted to reach across the table. Yours mirrored it without thinking.

Then she stood too fast, the chair scraping the floor. "I'll get dessert."

You blinked. "I didn't know there was dessert."

"There isn't," she said, already walking to the freezer. "But I got some stupid mini ice cream bars Jacob won't touch because they're not 'plant-based nostalgia.'"

You laughed, quietly.

She passed you one a minute later, sat back down. Didn't meet your eyes again for the rest of the meal.

But her foot bumped yours under the table and didn't move.

⸻

The next morning, you walked back into Abbott like you already belonged there.

Jacob met you at the front doors with a coffee and a proud older-brother smile that made your throat tighten.

"You look bright-eyed and extremely not-hungover," he said as you took the cup.

"High bar," you teased.

"Only the best for my beloved sister-slash-new favorite co-teacher. I told Ava you were coming in again, and she said, and I quote, 'Cool, free labor.' Which, honestly, is her love language."

You snorted, bumping shoulders with him as you followed him down the hall.

The school was warm. Familiar now. And terrifying in the way things are when you know you're already attached.

"I talked to Liberty," you admitted as you stepped into his classroom. "Told them I wasn't interested."

Jacob stopped short, eyes wide. "Wait. You—what?"

"I turned it down."

"You turned down Liberty for—" He gestured around you. "This?"

You looked around too. Paper mâché pyramids. Posters. Pencil shavings. Heart.

"Yes."

He stared at you. "Because of me?"

You smiled, soft and a little sad. "Because of you, because of the kids, because of Barbara and Janine and... because I didn't want to leave."

He caught it. The hesitation.

His eyes narrowed in a flash of older brother perception. "Because you didn't want to leave... who, exactly?"

You sat down at the student desk nearest you and busied yourself with straightening a pile of papers. "I'm not—"

"Melissa?" he said like a delighted accusation.

Your silence betrayed you.

"Oh my god. Oh my god," he whispered like it was Christmas morning. "You have a thing."

"I do not."

"You do. I knew it! I mean, it's classic. Grumpy redhead with a secret marshmallow center meets quiet, emotionally intelligent hot girl from out of town—"

"Jacob."

"You're basically a Hallmark movie."

You covered your face with your hands.

"I'm just saying," he went on, voice pitched with glee, "you two were literally staring at each other across the dinner table like you were in a period drama. I thought at any moment she was going to dramatically stand and declare her intentions."

"I nearly kissed her last night."

Jacob's jaw dropped so hard it may have unhinged.

"Are you kidding?!"

"No," you said quietly, cheeks warm. "But I didn't. She stood up. Got ice cream instead."

Jacob blinked. "God. That is the most Melissa thing I've ever heard."

"I don't know if I should tell her," you admitted. "What if I'm wrong? What if I misread it? What if I say something and ruin everything?"

Before he could respond, the door burst open.

"Did someone say romance?!"

Janine entered like a whirlwind of glitter and emotional intuition, coffee in hand, eyes bright.

Jacob pointed at you like he'd been waiting for backup. "She's in love with Melissa."

Janine gasped. "Knew it!"

You groaned, but Janine ignored it, pulling up a chair like this was an emergency meeting of the Abbott Elementary Love Council.

"Okay. We all see it. Melissa sees it. She just doesn't know what to do with it. Which is classic trauma response meets internalized tough-girl act. She needs a nudge."

You stared at them both. "A nudge?"

"Say something," Jacob urged. "Tell her. You don't even have to be weird about it. You could literally say, 'Hey, I like you. That's part of why I'm staying.'"

Janine nodded. "Boom. That's cute. That's honest. That's vulnerable."

"And if she doesn't feel the same?" you asked softly.

Jacob sobered. "She does."

Janine added, "But even if she didn't? You still belong here. You're not just Melissa-adjacent. You've got your own place here. We all feel it."

You stared down at your hands. Heart thudding.

You wanted to believe them. You wanted to believe that maybe this place—this person—could really be yours. But first, you had to stop dancing around it.

Before it passed you by.

Abbott's end of school day was always a kind of exhale. Students gone, halls quiet, the soft hum of the janitor's cart somewhere in the distance. Most teachers had packed up and left, or were hiding in their rooms pretending they had. You wandered the hall slowly, heart thudding in your chest like it had a deadline.

Melissa's classroom door was cracked.

You hesitated outside of it, one hand on the frame, willing your voice to work. When it didn't, you knocked gently and peeked inside.

She was alone, red pen still in hand, grading spelling tests with the same focus she gave her football bets and life in general.

"Hey," you said softly.

Her head lifted immediately. That unreadable look in her eyes again. "Hey."

"Can I come in?"

"Door's open," she said, but her voice had softened in a way that made it feel like more than just an answer.

You stepped inside, let the door close gently behind you. She didn't stand, but she leaned back a little, arm resting along the edge of the desk, like she was trying not to look too interested.

You cleared your throat. "I, um... I turned Liberty down."

She blinked. "Yeah?"

You nodded, stepping a little closer. "And Addington. And the other one."

Her brow furrowed. "You're running out of options, sweetheart."

"I know." You took a breath. "Except one."

That made her go still.

You moved to the desk slowly, heart in your throat. "Abbott was never the plan. But the last few days... it's felt like home. I haven't felt that way in a long time. Not at school. Not anywhere."

Melissa set the pen down. Didn't speak.

"And I think part of that is Jacob and the kids and the chaos and Barbara's very gentle judgment."

That made her smile, small and flickering.

"But part of it," you continued, voice just a little more raw now, "is you."

You saw her take a breath. Her hands flexed lightly on the desk.

"I feel something when I'm near you," you said. "Like I've found something I didn't know I was missing. And I don't want to go back to not feeling that way. So if I'm staying—if I'm really doing this—then I need you to know that."

Silence.

You swallowed. "Melissa?"

She stood. Slowly. Crossed the room like she was approaching a fuse that might spark too early. But her eyes never left yours.

When she stopped in front of you, you weren't sure what to expect—she was hard to read at the best of times—but her hand reached up and gently brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I knew," she said.

Your breath caught.

"I didn't want to," she added, a little quieter. "Because it felt like too much, too fast. Like maybe I'd scare you off."

You gave a wet laugh. "That's Jacob's job."

She smiled.

Then, more serious: "But I don't want to scare you. I don't want to push."

"You're not," you said. "I'm here. I want to be here."

Her hand lingered by your cheek. You leaned into it, just slightly, and her thumb brushed your skin like she couldn't believe she was allowed to.

She leaned in—just a few inches—and stopped.

"Can I—?"

You kissed her.

Soft. Sure. Like you were making a promise.

When you pulled away, she looked dazed in the best way. Her voice was rough when she finally spoke.

"Jesus Christ."

You smiled. "That a good 'Jesus Christ' or a bad one?"

She kissed you this time.

Yeah. Definitely a good one.

Ten minutes later, you were walking side-by-side down the hallway, Melissa's hand brushing yours but not quite holding it. You couldn't stop smiling.

"You know," you said, "technically Ava hasn't even offered me the job."

"She will," Melissa muttered.

"And if she doesn't?"

"I'll threaten her."

You laughed. "You think that'll work?"

Melissa gave you a look. "You ever been threatened by a Schemmenti? Works every time."

As you turned the corner toward Ava's office, you glanced sideways at her.

"Thank you," you said softly.

She didn't ask for what.

Just bumped your shoulder and said, "Don't thank me yet. You still gotta survive picture day, parent-teacher conferences, and at least one fire drill where a kid pulls it because he forgot his homework."

You grinned. "Sounds like home."

She looked at you then—really looked at you—and nodded.

"It is now."

[queerstringcheese]

She doesn’t love pink, pink loves her

[queerstringcheese]

car sex car sex car sex

[queerstringcheese]

I’d do anything for her

[queerstringcheese]

Melissa Schemmenti Oneshots Masterlist.

main masterlist. fics with multiple chapters masterlist.

all of mine melissa schemmenti oneshots (oldest to newest.)

Sweet Nothings.

two queens in a king-sized bed.

Caught Red-handed.

Tempting Fiery Redhead Devil.

Her First Woman’s Touch.

Your Body, My Playground.

Blue Faces, Red Tempers.

Proving You`re a Good Girl.

Wedding Bands.

Push And Pull.

In Quiet Of Absence.

A Broccoli, a Baseball Bat, and a Guinea Pig.

Memories and Mourning.

The Calm to Her Storm.

Inhale, Exhale, Repeat.

Still Here, Still Distant.

[queerstringcheese]

she just sent me her location bruh wtf is this

[queerstringcheese]

IF I SPEAK...

[queerstringcheese]

She looked so fawking good this day

[queerstringcheese]

picture you (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: when melissa comes over to check on you after a rowdy night, she's met with a tantalizing display of what the thought of her stirs in you.

warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), voyeurism, masturbation, squirting, alcohol consumption and memory loss, teasing, vibrators, overstimulation, "casual" sapphic situationship

notes: hi sorry for being gone for six months (if anyone cares), but i'm back at least temporarily for kinktober. this is a fic based on "picture you" by chappell roan, so go listen to it for the full experience. i feel like this is kinda bad and idk why i wrote it other than i'm gay and deprived of affection. but that's the writer's burden is it not

the morning after ava's halloween party, you startled yourself awake with a jolt and a gasp. given how much alcohol you'd had the previous night, you expected to wake up in a puddle of sweat or worse. instead, you were tucked into your bed, dry, warm, and barely hung over. well, mostly dry.

you shifted your legs under the sheets and sighed. another pair of panties ruined because of her, you thought.

and yeah, you did blame melissa. she spent the whole night riling you up, only to then deny you sex because you were drunk. the two of you had been hooking up at every opportunity for a couple weeks. it was meant to be an occasional thing, an escape from the stress and tension of your daily lives as educators. but once you finally got your hands on each other, neither of you wanted to pull away.

vignettes from the previous night played on a loop in your mind. your memory of the party was a hazy blur that began at melissa's place. after much convincing, melissa had agreed to be the rio to your agatha for halloween. it was an easy look to throw together last-minute, given the amount of green in her wardrobe and black in both yours and hers. this was convenient because ava, true to form, had announced her party just two days before it was meant to happen.

"hold still," melissa said as she leaned into you. your eyes fluttered shut as she lifted the purple-dusted makeup brush to your eyelid. her free hand found purchase on your thigh. you held your breath as she gently applied the eyeshadow. "shakin' ain't still, princess."

"sorry," you breathed. she painted your other eyelid and then reached into her bag, retrieving a soft pink lipstick. she uncapped it and raised it to your mouth.

"open," she said simply. your lips parted and she smoothed the lipstick on. you were so focused on the command and the smell of her perfume and how close her face was to yours; you didn't even notice the way her fingers were slowly creeping up your thigh. "alright, pretty girl, you're done."

she withdrew her hand from your inner thigh and smiled when you whimpered at the loss. then she took your hand, pulled the hood of her green cloak over her head, and started toward the door. you scoffed at her fruitless teasing.

"come on," she planted a kiss on your cheek. "we're already late."

lying in bed, you remembered how she looked in that moment: the slinky black dress teasing her cleavage, the lacy green robe draped over her shoulders and caressing her long red waves. you recalled the warmth of her palm on your leg and the unmistakable lust in her smoky eyes. your face flushed and you squirmed under the covers.

once again you felt the dampness of your underwear, which reminded you of the racy dream you had after melissa tucked you into bed and left. you pressed your thighs together as the dream came back to you in bits and pieces—a subconscious compilation of all the things you wanted her to do to you last night.

in your mind's eye, you saw the redhead pinning you against ava's bathroom door, one hand over your mouth and one sneaking under your skirt. you remembered dancing with her, her hands running greedily along your curves and summoning goosebumps in their wake, and imagined what would have happened if her fingers had dared to venture under your dress. you could practically hear her reaction: "no bra? you must want me bad, baby."

now you were hot and bothered again at the mere image of her. almost unconsciously, you reached down and dragged your ruined underwear down your legs, leaving you bare except for the oversized tee melissa picked out for you to sleep in. on instinct, your fingers began to migrate down your body, searching for the source of the tingling between your legs. another flashback from the party swept your psyche.

the game was simple: you jump, you drink. you, melissa, mr. johnson and gregory—who was only participating out of loyalty to his unspoken status as the most rational and collected teacher at abbott—all played along while watching sinister.

"sit on my lap, sweetheart," melissa whispered in your ear as the opening credits played. there was plenty of room for the four of you on ava's couch, but that didn't matter to the redhead. when you sheepishly complied, gregory gave you both a puzzled look. "gotta make sure this one doesn't cheat."

you got comfy on melissa's lap and watched the screen, steeling yourself for the scares ahead. not even ten minutes into the movie, you had to take your first drink. the protagonist crept around while ominous music grew ever louder, and you braced yourself for the first jumpscare. just then, while you were on the edge of your "seat" on top of her, melissa pinched the back of your right thigh harshly. you startled in her lap, and mr. johnson hollered, "that counts, bottoms up!" melissa smirked and soothed a thumb over the bit of skin she'd squeezed while you sulked through a shot of vodka.

"don't be scared, honey. it's just me," she cooed, continuing to rub firm circles into your flesh. you couldn't stop yourself from thinking of her repeating that same motion elsewhere on your body. feigning fear at the movie, you turned away from the screen and buried your burning face in the crook of melissa's neck.

lost in reminiscence, you were hardly conscious of the fact that your fingers had begun drawing circles on your clit. you whimpered, lamenting that your own touch would never be as magical as melissa's. you had only the memory of how her fingers felt on your body, how her sultry voice sounded in your ear. these things alone were enough to make you spread your legs and touch yourself in earnest.

about an hour into sinister, melissa cut you off. you had been jumpscared one too many times, and the older woman decided it was time to switch out your alcohol for water. this meant that when the film was over and it was time to go home, you were more coherent... but only by a little bit.

sitting next to you on the edge of your bed, melissa pulled at the ties on your purple dress until the garment fell away from your torso. giddy with excitement because she was finally undressing you, you turned around and placed an enthusiastic kiss on her lips. she reciprocated, but pulled back when you reached for the buttons on her dress.

"no touching, my little witch," she said, batting your hand away. you huffed and pouted at her. "you're drunk. don't start. if you're good for me tonight, maybe i'll reward you tomorrow."

tomorrow.

your eyes flew open and sure enough, there she was—leaning forward through the doorframe, dressed in a blue jacket and leather pants, a smug smile on her face. your hand froze between your legs.

"no, please, go on. i was enjoyin' the show," melissa teased. "unless... you need my help?" she took a few small, measured steps toward you. "sounded like it from downstairs. you know i can't resist you when you moan my name, angel."

"i was... saying your name?" you asked.

"oh yeah, you've been whining for me since i got here," at your look of alarm and embarrassment, she went on. "babydoll, i heard dirtier things from you last night anyway."

at this, your mouth dropped open. you had no idea what she was referring to, and she could tell. she grinned and stalked toward the bed.

"you don't remember, do ya? well, that's a shame. you were beggin' me to touch you, sayin' you'd die if i didn't," her fingernail found your calf and traced a slow, meandering path up your bare leg. "it was cute. i've never seen you so needy."

more clips from the previous night ran through your head. melissa trying to help you into your pajamas while you grabbed at her fingers, trying to drag them where you wanted them. the stern look she gave you when you arched your back, pushing your breasts into her working hands. in the present, your whole body ran hot with embarrassment, and melissa chuckled.

"i came here to pull you back from the brink of death, sweetie, but if you'd rather do it yourself..." melissa trailed off, lifting her finger from your skin.

"no!" you protested, taking hold of her hand and looking deeply into her olive-green eyes. "please, i still need you."

"that's what i thought," she beamed, positioning herself over you. "now... what do you want, princess? fingers or tongue?"

"fuck—" you gasped as she cupped and squeezed your tits through your shirt. "tongue, please."

melissa wasted no time, lifting up your shirt and inching toward your center with featherlight kisses down your torso. when she finally reached the hem of your panties, she rubbed her finger back and forth along your clothed sex. "so messy today," she cooed before sliding the garment down your legs.

"yeah, 'cause you spent the whole party feeling me u-" your scoff gave way to a moan as melissa licked through your folds. your frustration melted away with each hot stroke of her tongue, just as she intended. she devoured every drop of you she could reach while you mewled, helpless against the pleasure. "god, yes!"

"not god, babygirl, me," melissa drawled between licks. she teased around your clit for what felt like forever, until your pleading noises cracked her resolve. she stimulated your bundle of nerves by drawing, and then scribbling, spirals with her tongue. "that's it, honey. doesn't that feel nice? isn't that worth waiting for?"

"yes, yeah," you babbled, already getting close from her ministrations. when your hips began to buck against her mouth, she paused. when she withdrew from the bed altogether and went to rifle through her bag, you huffed. "i didn't come, mel."

"i know you didn't, doll. that beautiful brain of yours gave me some great ideas last night, ya know," she said with a hint of amusement. "kept telling me to use toys on ya so i wouldn't technically be touching you while you were drunk. your logic was nonsense, but it did get me thinkin' of more creative ways to play with you."

once she was done speaking, she held up a deep green, curved dildo to your line of sight.

"it's a g-spot vibrator. can i try it out on you?"

you nodded vigorously, and she grinned. melissa grabbed the vibrator and positioned herself between your spread legs, nuzzling into your clit just to hear your sharp gasp. she switched to swiping her thumb over your button while her dominant hand teased your entrance with the toy.

"just relax, sweetheart, open up for me," she coaxed as she pressed the tip of the dildo inside you. fortunately you were more than wet enough to take the stretch, and it went a lot more smoothly once melissa turned on low vibrations. her finger traced lazy yet encouraging patterns on your clit. once the toy was fully sheathed inside you, it nestled against your most sensitive spot. even the gentlest vibrations made you shake and squeal. "aw, is that the spot, angel? good girl, i knew you could take it."

melissa turned up the vibrations by three settings, and it took all your willpower not to scream. while you adjusted to the new sensation, her mouth returned to your clit and suckled. the pressure on both of your sensitive spots proved too much, and you tumbled over the edge for the first time that morning. the redhead only doubled down in her efforts as you jerked and trembled through your release, nursing on your bundle of nerves with force.

when the stimulation started to feel overwhelming in the afterglow of your orgasm, your panicked eyes flitted to melissa. the pleased smirk never left her face as she dialed up the vibrator by several more notches and swapped her mouth out for her fingers rubbing your clit. "last night you promised i could fuck you however i wanted, for as long as i wanted. well, now i'm giving you what you begged for. how's it feel to be at my mercy?"

you moaned and writhed frantically as a second, more powerful wave of pleasure threatened to crest at any moment.

"is this what you were thinkin' about when i came in? me in that pretty costume, taking good care of your pussy?"

with these words, a drive of the dildo into your g-spot, and a pinch of your clit, you came undone again. this time melissa's hands were soaked in a gush of wetness, but she kept on rubbing you through the very last spasm.

"what, you been holdin' out on me? you've never done that before," melissa said lightly, passing you a glass of cold water. you shrugged and looked away in embarrassment. "hey," she started, lifting your jaw in her hand to meet her gaze, "it was gorgeous. and now i'm gonna try like hell to make you come like that every single time."

as she gathered her things, you cocked your head. she usually preferred to stick around and let you return the favor. melissa noticed your raised eyebrow and offered an explanation.

"i got errands to run today, and satisfying my girl was first on the list," she said before leaning in for a deep kiss. "i'll see you tomorrow at work, okay hon?"

you didn't have the chance to reply before she slipped out the door. she had spent the night looking after you and the morning pleasing you, then called you her girl. ha, you thought, so much for casual.

[queerstringcheese]

hi!! no worries if this isn’t something you write i’d totally understand, but if i could request amelia shepherd comforting a transmasc reader for coming out and/or defending reader when someone says something transphobic?

again, i’d totally understand if you don’t wanna write this ^^ i hope you’re having a nice day/night anyway though!

Unwavering support

Amelia Shepherd x male!reader

Warnings: transphobia, reader has had top surgery but other surgeries are not mentioned, reader is a guy but no pronouns are actually used

Word count: 2.9k

-

-

"there you go. Try not to move your arm too much and change your bandages everyday" you instructed the old woman, before throwing the used gloves into the trash can.

Today was very slow in the E.R., all beds empty except for the grandma who cut her arm while gardening. Days like this were uncommon as a trauma surgeon, especially here at Grey's sloan were it felt like people were purposely shoving a firecracker into their mouth 'to see who could spit it the farther' just to come here.

Yep. That happened last week. Stupid, but new.

So you were pretty thrilled about just catching up on work so you could go home early.

"Mrs Hawkins' file please" you leaned your arms on the counter, gently smiling at the nurse behind it. She returned your smile and got up from her seat, to go find what you asked for.

While you were waiitng for her, someone came up to you."Hey Y/L/N"

"Yo Avery" you didn't need to turn your head to recognize the voice "April should be over there I think" you pointed to somewhere else in the room, thanking the nurse once the file was in your hands.

"I was actually looking for you" he flashed you his million dollar smile, leaning on the counter like you previously did. "I got something for you"

"oh" you raised your gaze, confused by his statement.

You were met with the familiar box containing t gel. Since his mother ordered all the supplies needed for the hospital you had asked him years ago to add your medicine to the list so it would have been quicker to just get it from your workplace. And it has been that way ever since, but he never handed it to you personally.

"okay? thanks" your reluctance was evident on your face, but you smiled nonetheless, putting the little box in your pocket.

"I was wondering-" he detached himself from the counter once you started walking away "if you could help me with something"

You playfully rolled your eyes as it all made sense now "I'm not talking to Webber again, if you have issues with him and your mother having sex you should-"

"no no it's not about that" he slightly raised his voice in embarrassment, making a disgusted face afterwards. He shook his head violently, as if wanting to get rid of the thought, before speaking again "I need help with a patient"

"sure, I'm all ears. What do you need?" you furrowed your brows, he knew he didn't need to bribe you if a patient was involved, so you still didn't fully know where this was going.

He seemed to wait for a few seconds, before turning serious. "I have this patient, he has been wanting a mastectomy for years and we have been making arrangements for months now. Today's finally the day but he's scared about how it's going to turn out"

"do you want me to talk to him?"

"well.." he started, giving you a tentative smile "I was actually thinking you could uh-" his hand reached the hem of his shirt, slighlty lifting it up "show him the results"

You frowned at that. You'd never be ashamed of what you are or what you did to get to this point, but at the same time the idea of taking your shirt off in front of doctors and nurses wasn't exactly your idea of fun. Only the people who you considered friends knew you were trans, and you liked it that way. But for a trans person who was struggling just like you used to?

"okay"

That's how you found yourself in this situation, following Avery to his patient's room. Kody, you were told his name was, was sitting on his bed with his usual clothes on, probably waiting for a sign to help him decide what to do next.

"Hey Kody, this is doctor Y/L/N, the one I talked to you about" Avery grabbed his attention, gesturing to you. You smiled at him, sitting on the end of his bed.

"Doctor Avery told me you were having doubts about the surgery?"

"It's all you ever wanted, stop being stupid. Please change his mind doctor!" Your head turned to a second guy, his boyfriend apparently, standing on the other side of the bed, hands on Kody's shoulders.

You smiled at the scene, he reminded you of Amelia. Had you met her before your transition she surely would have given you the same aggressive support he was giving him.

You started asking the basic questions, trying to get as much out of him as you could, and tried comforting like any other doctor would. But nothing was working because he didn't need a simple doctor, Jackson was right. He needed someone who could understand what he was feeling.

Sighing to yourself, your gaze fell on the intern on your left, probabaly taking notes on how to comfort a patient, eyes fixated on you.

"you're scared about the results right? look" you brought your hands next to your neck to take your shirt off, and put it on the bed. The boy's eyes widened at the sight, long-healed pink scars adorning you chest, right under your nipples. "they look sick right?" you smirked at his mouth agape, the euphoria of looking at yourself never truly leaving your body "I had another doctor, but trust me when I say that doctor Avery is the best plastic surgeon I've ever worked with. So trust him, follow his instructions post op and everything will turn out great"

He smiled at you, a determined fire in his eyes "we can do the surgery"

You nodded giving a high five, but he was soon stolen by his boyfriend kissing him fiercely. You laughed to yourself, once again reminded of your girlfriend, and got up from the bed, putting your shirt back on.

"Very good then. Let's prep him" Avery ordered the intern, before following you out of the room. "Thank you Y/N"

You stopped walking to look at him, you were about to tell him it was no big deal. But an idea popped into your head.

"I want your yacht for a day. For me and Amelia." your anniversary was right behind the corner and what better date than to spend it alone away from anyone?

You saw Jackson roll his eyes, but he reluctantly nodded "one day." he clarified "and no sex on the couch- no, actually? no sex anywhere"

"no sex on the couch, got it" you smirked giving him a thumbs up. You left before he could object.

- - - -

You kept your deal with Jackson a secret from Amelia, only telling her not to book at any restaurant, since you had already planned everything.

"Hey are you listening to me?" you stopped talking when you noticed Amelia wasn't even looking at you. You tired following her gaze but could only see a table full of interns talking and laughing to themselves instead of eating their food, but they weren't making enough noise to be annoying. What could be so interesting about interns anyway? "Amelia?"

She only turned around when your hand squeezed hers. "Uh, sorry. What were you saying?"

You softly shook your hand "I'll tell you another time. What's the matter with you? You seem off"

Opening her mouth to answer, she looked at the interns once again, and then at the whole cafeteria as if she was looking for something "Haven't you noticed anything strange lately?"

"I don't know, I was only looking at you" it could have sounded corny but it was the truth. The only one acting strange in your eyes was your girlfriend, always acting distracted and looking elsewhere whenever you were together.

Her eyes stopped on your face, tilting her head to the side with a smile, sensing the corny aspect of your words too.

"I don't know" she shrugged, getting back to the matter at hand "I just feel watched, don't you feel it too?"

You glanced around the room, some people were eating or talking to each other, some people were intent on studying. Sure, you locked eyes with a person or two, but that didn't mean anything. You were looking at them first.

"I don't notice anything different" you calmly concluded.

Amelia bit her lip, still not convinced. But she eventually gave up, focusing her lunch break with you.

- - - -

After the talk with Amelia you started paying attention to your surroundings, and you hated to admit it but you did notice people staring at you longer than necessary. The worst part was that you'd recognize those looks anywhere.

As a trans person you received those looks all through your teenage years up until you started passing as a man. Amused looks. Curious looks. You knew them all; and you were seeing them all right now, paired with the whispers as you entered the room.

You sighed, the favor you did Jackson suddenly coming to mind. You almost forgot about it, that happened two weeks ago after all.

It was obvious the intern Jackson chose for the surgery told his friends and started a whole thing. So, as the mature - and non confrontational - person that you were, you made the wise decision of not doing anything. They'll eventually get tired.

You just hoped Amelia would let it go.

- - - -

She did not.

"I think I'm going crazy" she muttered, entering the waiting room with you by her side "I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched, and it's even worse when I'm with you"

"They must have realized we're the hottest couple around here, let them look" you joked, but the smile didn't meet your eyes. You tried talking to the intern, who obviously denied everything, and it's not like you could go to Webber for a 'feeling' and put his carrer at risk, so you went on with your plan on letting the problem resolve on its own. Ignoring how him and his friends were always around the corner, as if they weren't interns with the heaviest workload.

Amelia squeezed her eyes at your words "you know something don't you?" to which you just shrugged, acting busy so you wouldn't give in and spill everything.

She seemed to buy it, and changed the topic. You breathed out in relief.

You started talking about your anniversary, with Amelia trying to guess what your surprise was; you laughed at her completely off guess - but secretly wrote it down in your mind for her birthday - and you told her she'd just have to wait.

The peace however was short-lived, as the last person you wanted to see entered the room followed by his two friends- minions. You quickly looked away. God you missed when interns were afraid of everyone.

As a habit, Amelia followed your gaze and wouldn't have thought anything of it, if she didn't recognize them.

"Hey they're the ones from the cafeteria!" she whisper-yelled while repeatedly slapping your arm. She gripped your coat in frustration when she saw one of them laugh in your direction "okay that's it. They have some explanations to do"

However she was stopped by your quick thinking, hand on her waist "stop it Amelia it's not worth it." you hesitated "they're looking at me"

You hoped that would be enough for her to drop it, but you should have known better, as this was probably the worst thing you could have said.

"What? Why are they looking at you?"

"I-" you sighed, crumbling under her sharp gaze "They know I'm trans"

It took a second for Amelia to register your words, if you asked her she would have said she almost forgot transphobia existed. You, on the other hand, were too aware of it especially in these last few weeks. And she could see it in your eyes, pleading her to just let this go. But she couldn't see you like this and just ignore it.

"Are you kidding me? That's even worse" she took a step back and escaped your touch.

It wasn't hard to spot them, they moved to the end of the hallways but were still in her line of sight. And who knows, maybe they really were paying attention to the files they were holding. You wouldn't bet on it though.

You hid your head in your hands as you saw Amelia approach them. Had you not been stressed about this whole situation you probably would have laughed at the sight of the three of them towering over your girlfriend, the smirks on their faces in direct contrast to what you could only predict was a scowl on Amelia's face, hands on her hips.

You saw one of them take a step closer to her and your legs almost moved on its own, but Amelia instantly slapped his arm away and pointed a finger in his face. Just as you were about to get over your fear and walk over there you saw the interns scurrying away, tripping over themselves.

Amelia turned around with a bright smile on her face, but even from this distance you noticed a glimpse of something else in her eyes.

"what did you tell them?" you asked as soon as she came back to your side, grabbing her hand

She just looked at you with that mischievous smile you had grown to love.

But now it just scared you.

"I still have some things to take care of. I'll come find you when I'm done" she avoided your question, then left a kiss on your lips that left you almost as dumbfounded as her words.

You didn't have time to question her actions any longer, because your pager suddenly beeped, April needed help with two people that got into a car accident.

"shit" you murmured, running towards the elevator.

- - - -

After more than three hours you were out of the O.R. The airbag on the passenger side didn't work so the mother got the worst of it and she needed both you and April if she wanted to survive. Fortunately she did.

Once your hands were clean, you went to open the door and found Amelia in front of you, swaying like a kid who successfully stole candies from her mother's pocket. You instinctively smiled at her, her face alone able to calm your eyes and heart after hours of only seeing blood.

"I'll go deliver the good news to her son" April spoke up from behind you, squeezing your arm before leaving the two of you alone.

"Can you finally tell me what the hell happened? What did you say to them?" you started firing questions while directing her to a more private area.

"I got him fired"

You abruptly stopped walking as soon as you registered her words "You what?"

She shrugged, her calm expression never faltering "I got the main guy fired, while the other two got suspended for a month; which may or may not have destroyed their chances of finishing the program in time" she kept her hands behind her back as she looked at you, enjoying your agape mouth and unblinking eyes.

You straightened your back "you- how did you do that?" not that you weren't happy about it, in fact, it was the best thing that happened in the last month. But it seemed a bit...unattainable. Too good to be true.

"I talked to Bailey and Webber and they agreed that this behaviour was not tolerated in this hospital. They reported them to Catherine and she made the final decision"

Her gaze lost its spark, worry taking over her beautiful features. Hands reached out to hold yours so you would look at her "Why didn't you say anything, why didn't you tell me anything?"

You leaned your back against the wall with a sigh "I wasn't sure anyone could do anything without proof, and I thought it would have faded out so I didn't want you to worry for nothing"

"But it's not nothing" she gently scolded you "Don't think I didn't notice you being weird lately, I was hoping you were just trying to hide your plans for our anniversary" she chuckled and you followed her.

"I mean, I was doing that too" a moment of silence passed as you basked in the security that was your girlfriend's warmth "I'm sorry, but thank you for standing up for me"

"If you won't do it someone has to" she smacked your arm, no real anger behind her words. She wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer "At least now we can finally focus on our anniversary. I can't wait to spoil the surprise and guess what you have in store"

And she was right. You had been so worried about everything else that you almost forgot about the good in your life, such as the pretty brunette currently in your arms. You giggled at her puckered lips before leaning down so you could make her happy and kiss her.

Despite already knowing this deep down, you came to the realization that there was nothing you couldn't overcome if you had her by your side.

And you'd make sure every day that it was the same for her.

"Do I want to know what you actually said to guys?"

"Mhh not even a little bit"

Amelia Shepherd Masterlist - Grey's anatomy Masterlist

General Masterlist

[queerstringcheese]

Behind The Curtain - Amelia Shepherd/Reader (Grey’s Anatomy)

request: Could you do a oneshot with Amelia Shepard where they both work at the hospital and are secretly dating. One day Arizona or Meredith or somebody catches them making out and then teases them about it the rest of the day. You’re writing is fantastic! Thanks for reading this :) - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing

Keeping your relationship with Amelia secret had been pretty easy for the two of you.

Whilst you were rarely seen venturing further than paediatrics ward, Amelia was similarly tied down to Neuro, being a neurosurgeon, and to whatever various tasks kept her occupied elsewhere in the hospital. Therefore there was never any need to cover anything up about your long-term relationship.

It had begun as a late night fling, early on in your careers at Seattle Grace - you had both finished a shift at the same time and walked into each other as you were buying a coffee.

Keep reading

[queerstringcheese]

Sports Car

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: to popular demand it's here ! - HA you thought I was done w "no new ideas I'm sticking to my drafts" .... well I surprised myself to, ignore it. ANYWAYS 😭 enjoy horny bitches 🥰😈

Summary: you love her new car.

Warnings: smut. And I MEAN smut, this one's going to be uh... different ! So read at your own risk lovelies. Dom bils as per, gear shift usage. You'll see ;) masturbation, cockwarming. Slight pervy billie !

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs @xxangelfarrlzxx

Masterlist

"Hey! Cute jeans." You hear, turning around to be faced with none other than Billie. You had been friends for ages, honestly having a slight crush on her. Especially the way she'd constantly flirt with you. You tried not to get sucked in, saying she was just being casual. But your friend Claudia says otherwise. You had known Claudia first since you were children, getting to know Billie super well over the years of knowing her. It had only been in the last few that she became more... Brazen, with you. Openly doing whatever it was she did. You kept making excuses when Claudia would say. "She likes you!" You did not believe her in that. Pointing out how it was 'just her personality'

She'd give you a look that she clearly didn't believe you, in the slightest. Everyone decided to go out for the night, Finneas, Ricky, and a few others came along. "Hey, cute jeans?" Claudia whispers to you, which you shove her in return seeing as Billie was approaching. "Stop it." You mumbled. But it wasn't a lie that you didn't give that same energy back, no matter if it was just her being her. "Dug them up the other day, I haven't worn them in forever." You smile at her. Claudia thought it was impressive how fast you could slip out of your shy nervous self and into this different persona. Billie leans her arm on your shoulder, smirking slightly. "Yeah? You should wear them more."

"Might just have to since they're so cute." Her smirk turns into a grin. Everyone orders some drinks, conversing about anything and everything. "Billie got a new car yesterday." Finneas pipes up. "Really?" I turn to her. She nods. "You guys want to come see?" - "Without a doubt, let's go." Ricky says heading for the door, always full of great energy. It was a black Porche, very sporty like. "It's so nice." She opens the door for you as you sit, observing every bell and whistle it has inside. "Really nice." You then say after the first thing you said. "Yeah, good pick Bils." Ricky says. She looks at the way you admire it. "Wanna take a ride later?"

Oh golly gee.

Hmm, a challenge. You thought for a moment. Accepted. "Fine fine." You move to sink it into yourself, the strap hitting at a good angle. Making you sigh out into her ear. If anything she'd be worried of moving herself, that sigh going straight to her core. "Fuck sake." She says under her breath.

Your mind goes elsewhere, practically time skipping to- "Y/n?" You turn your head to look up at her. "Oh uh yeah, yup. Love to." You get out, the five of you heading back inside. As the night goes on you just can't help but falling for Billie more and more. It didn't help when you all started dancing, a few drinks in. Having fun nonetheless. Music plays, your tipsy state feeling it. Billies tipsy state feeling you. Her hands move over your body with ease as your back was to her front. You almost didn't feel real, what was happening. As her hands settle on your waist you move your eyes to them. Her cold rings on your skin. Yeah. It was time to go. You turn in her arms, looking at her. "How about that ride now." She smirks at you. "Yeah?" You nod, looking at the others. They'll be fine. You? You'll be more than fine.

She takes your hand taking you out to it. Once you get in, you get comfortable. She watches, starting it up. The air thick with unshed lust. It'll soon spill out of the both of you. She begins to drive. You look at her hand on the wheel, her veins especially prominent at the moment. You shift in your seat before you ask. "How fast can it go?" She doesn't reply at first, her upper lip moving up slowly as you suddenly feel her speed up drastically. Your eyes widen just for a moment as you hadn't expected her to just do it. You look at her, God she was attractive right now. More so than usual.

I can't take no more, im goin' weak in my knees.

"You know." You began. "I couldn't help but feel something earlier." - "That so? Do enlighten me babe." You suck in a breath quietly. "Maybe I should ride that instead." You suggest. Surprisingly bold. Her head turns to you as you were at a light. A bit surprised, but definitely considering it. "I mean if you really want to, better be fast the lights will change soon." Something switched inside you and now you need it. More than anything. Your hands hastily go to un-buckle her belt. "Eager are we?" You ignore her, definitely so. Looking around. It was 3 am and everything was pretty dead out. Everyone probably asleep. But before you decide to do anything you take your own jeans off. That boldness still evident.

We can share one seat.

Your heart picks up but you just do it, you move so you're straddling her lap. Making sure you weren't in her line of sight. Keeping to the left side of her neck. "You're trouble, y'know that?" You bite your lip, going to pull out the main event of your tactics. But her other hand grabs your face momentarily. "But- you can't move." Your face changes. "I'm driving doll, don't forget." Hmm, a challenge. You thought for a moment. Accepted. "Fine fine." You move to sink it into yourself, the strap hitting at a good angle. Making you sigh out into her ear. If anything she'd be worried of moving herself, that sigh going straight to her core. "Fuck sake." She says under her breath.

Now she realizes why this hadn't happened earlier. The two of you were dangerous together. Imagine if she wasn't being careful while she sped up on occasion. Imagine if she gets pulled over with you stuffed full, those cops would be traumatized. So would you. ... So would you, more so humiliated, but the thought of being caught like that was actually turning her on. She had to think of something else and focus. Just the fact after years of lusting over you, she finally has you where she's always wanted.

There was always alternatives while this lust fest was happening ofcourse. The obvious. You had actually just posted a new post on Instagram, looking extra good. Billie was sitting on her bed when she got a wicked idea. A filthy one. Does she go through with it. Hell yeah, she doesn't care. Even if that sounds pervy so be it, she was crazy about you. She stares at the photo, you were on a beach in a bikini. The two piece hiding practically nothing. Score. Her hand travels beneath her sweats, moving past her underwear. Imagining you ontop of her, your tits. That soft voice of yours. How nervous you could get. No matter how much you'd flirt back she knew how shy you were. She feeded on it. Even if she loved you flirting back, she adored when your cheeks would go red. It gave her a egotistical power that she loved. Not only that, you were just the cutest in her eyes, the blush making every feature on your face just stand out. God she was mesmerized by you. Her fingers had entered herself, speeding up at the thought of her making you nervous.

She prayed it'd happen more. Her mind wanders, imagining the soft sounds you'd make, whimpers whines. How they'd sound coming our of your pretty lips. Her hand speeds up, letting out a moan, herself. How she'd fit in you sooo, good. "Mmm, fuck." She curses under her breath, this was probably so wrong. Doing this to a photo of a close friend. But oh how she wanted more.

Your hips were still. Until they weren't, she had one hand on the wheel and the other on your waist making sure you kept to your word. It was killing her she had to refrain. She was in this challenge too. You shift a little, making her blink. You didn't mean to right? Oh but you did, you hated that you couldn't feel her properly. The silicone deep in you, smashing against your walls with the way she speeds. Nothing crazy, but you move. Again. Seeming more intentional. "Mama." Billie warns. You think you leaked just a tad, good God this woman. "But." You breathe into her neck. Oh your goddamm voice rings through her ears like a beautiful song. "Jesus." She breathes. Then you realize the kind of effect you're having on her. You realize that you have slight power in this situation. You smirk to yourself, she wasn't as cocky at the moment. Keeping very silent. You shift again.

Letting out a faint noise right next to her ear. "Don't think I can stay still for much longer Bils." She gulps, but her foot pushes down speeding up more.

We can uh - uh in it, while you drive it real far.

Desperate to find an empty parking lot. Somewhere surely. Until then, you were having your fun. This time you move fully on the plastic dick. Her chest rises slightly, needing you to just, behave. "Youre a fucking troublemaker." You giggle into her neck. "What? Can't find somewhere to park?" You make a little saddened noise. "Poor you. Is this getting to you?" You were in for a treat when she'd find one, she just had the best fucking idea. "Awh yeah, it so is baby. But guess what. Since you didn't listen, I have something in mind that's going to get to you even worse. You'll be a whiney fucking wreck. I promise you."

You move a bit to look at her, confused by what ever it could be. And within seconds she found an empty parking lot. You were done for. As she parks she grabs your hips. Moving the dick out of you, you whine out hating feeling empty so soon. "Naww, shame huh? It's ok you'll be full again very soon." Your brows furrow, what on earth was she going to do. "You like this car right?" You nod slowly. "Yeah? Mark it for me." Bewildered would be an understatement for how you were feeling right now. "W-what?" She bites her lip, she has you stuttering. You were getting nervous. "Mark. My car. With your cum." Your heart picks up, feeling it beat rapidly. What the fuck did she mean. "Want me to show you?" You warily nod, slowly.

Her hands grip your hips, grabbing the bottom of your underwear and moving it to the side, she effortlessly moves your cunt over the gear stick. Your eyes widen. Oh. That's what she had in mind. You felt a little embarrassed. "Fuck it, go on, seeing as you were so desperate to do so on me." You froze, there's no way. "What, shy now?" That fucking smirk was evil. She was enjoying this. "Go on baby, want a reminder." After the initial shock, you had to admit it did feel good against you. You move just slightly, feeling your mouth hang at this new feeling. Rough but so good. She watches you, enjoying every little bit of this. Your movements speed up a bit, but it wasn't as good as her inside you.

"So good it hurts." You moan out a whimper, moving gently against it, her eyes heavy on you and your movements. "That's it, atta girl. Keep moving." She says with a smirk. "It's too much.." You pant, enjoying it but wanting her more. Mind foggy with every possible fantasy. She says nothing. Watching you move slower against it. "Faster, harder, come on." Your forehead becomes sweaty. "Bils, please." Her head just shakes. "You didn't listen, keep going." Your lips were pouty, wanting, needing her desperately. "But.." Her head tilts at your small voice. "If you cum, I'll fill you up again. Deal?" Why was she wanting you to do this so bad, it was turning you on to the max though. Finding this side of her so incredibly attractive. You nod at her request. Needing to feel that strap again.

She moves her hand to your folds, spreading then against it. Your clit being exposed to the leather, just perfectly. Eyes, rolling back as you rock against it, feeling a tightness in your lower stomach. "I- I'm close." You breathe out. "Good, don't stop until you cum." Not even a second later your gushing down the black shift, her eyes gleaming with pride. Her finger moves to collect some and put it on her tongue. "Tasty." She hums. "Mm-kay. The deal." You speak tiredly. She chuckles at you. "You seem warn out. Maybe you should just rest in the-" You shake your head rapidly. "No please need you Billie. Please fuck me." It was merely pathetic, but its true you did need her. "Say no more." She smirks, grabbing your waist yet again. She positions you in the back. Leaning her body against yours.

Her hands grab the dildo. Taking your underwear off fully. "That's better." She sighs out, finally getting to look at your pussy. The one thing she dreamed about. "Even better in person." You didn't even care what she meant by that you both needed this as bad as one another. "Incredibly wet huh?" You shut your eyes. "Who got you so messy baby?" You take a moment, sucking in a nervous breath. "Y-you." The tip prods your hole. "Who?" "Mm, you Billie. You." You say as you feel it, so incredibly close to it's destination. "Please." You moan. Without any more words she bottoms out. Watching your face carefully as your eyes widen, mouth gaping. Hole too. "Mm, nice and deep." Your stomach erupts in butterflies as her voice turns into a husky whisper. Her mouth going to your ear. "So, so. Tight." That same whisper.

Going straight through to your dead mind. You let out a small whimper. Her pace begins, slow yet forceful. Her tongue darts out, licking your lobe. Moving down to your neck. "You know how long I've been waiting to have you like this. Been driving me nuts." She says against your skin. You pluck up some sort of sentence. "You know.. You could always do it on your own, while you're looking at me." Her smirk turns malicious. "Oh trust me, I do." Her thrusts pick up with such need. Needing this more than ever. Your head tilts. Back arching into her thrusts. "F-fuck!" The car becomes hot, steamy. The smell of sex very evident as your body's get clammy together. You grip her shirt, signaling for her to take it off.

She gladly does, chucking it on the floor of the backseat. She had no bra on, making your eyes instantly look. She smirks at you, noticing how your breath gets weaker. You couldn't believe this was really happening. "Breathe baby." She says, noticing how worked up you're getting. You sigh, very contently. Letting your eyes flutter close. "There you go, good girl." Your eyes open again, looking at her breasts. That same shyness coming back. Just what she wanted. Her hand reaches for yours gently, moving it to her right breast. "Don't be shy, it's ok." Your legs wrap around her waist, moaning as she trusts harder. Making it nearly impossible for you to focus. "Billie!" You screech. "Who." She stays sternly. She loved you saying her name.

Your voice so whiney, so soft. "Billie- fuck!" Your hair sticks to your forehead as she fucks you at an ungodly pace. "Yeah, me. I'm fucking you dumb." Something switches in her brain. Something primal. "Getting so loose, so easy to fuck." Woah. If you weren't on the verge of cumming before you definitely were now. "Nevermind, pussys closing around me." She says coming close to your face, kissing you. You squeeze her tit, moaning into her mouth. Perfect opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth. And without any warning at all you cum, again. Taking her by surprise. You breathe heavily as she fucks you through it. "God you're good." You say. So out of breath, the heat inside the car insane. "Damn, I mean I wasn't even prepared, babygirl." She fakes a sigh.

"Guess a few more rounds would help." She smirks at your face. This was going to be a long, steamy night.

[queerstringcheese]

the promo pictures of the next episode are available and melissa looks so wifey here?? god have mercy