#melissa ann | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months

Text

the rooms are all on fire (every time that you walk in)

// melissa has a thing for her new neighbor, but she refuses to let it go too far because of the age difference. though, the redhead might realize how deep her feelings go once it’s too late. //

warnings: insecure!melissa, reader is so painfully in love with melissa it’s hilarious, melissa is an idiot who can’t handle emotions, pining, mutual pining, jealous!reader, jealous!melissa, brief gary x melissa (they go on one date), reader is in her twenties.

melissa knows right away that she doesn’t like you. you’re too young, too loud, too perky, too nice. you had moved in across the hall from her a couple months ago, and had knocked on her door the same day you moved in. you had this big smile on your face, along with this large tupperware of brownies. though, in your defense it had not been a good day for melissa. her ex husband had just revealed he had an affair while they were still married, and even though she no longer loved joe, it still hurt.

“who the hell are you?” she asks, as soon as she swings the door open. your smile doesn’t even falter, and it’s the most annoying thing melissa has ever seen. “i’m y/n! i just moved into the apartment across the hall. i just wanted to introduce myself and give you these.” your western accent indicated you were far from home, and the positive energy radiating off of you only seemed to put melissa in a worse mood than she already was. you hand her the tupperware of brownies, and she scowls.

��we don’t really introduce ourselves to neighbors ‘round here. your lucky you didn’t knock on 402’s door. he’s a creep.” she mutters as she takes the tub of sweets. “oh. thanks for the warning.” you joke, and you tilt your head to side, “i never got your name.” you add and she snorts. “cause i never gave it, kid.” she responds curtly before shutting the door right in your face.

that was your first impression of melissa. it was enough to make any sane person steer clear of her… but you weren’t necessarily a sane woman. you were usually up before eleven every morning to go on a run or do a small workout. one morning you wake up extra early, and catch the redhead in the elevator. you don’t appear to notice the way her eyes roam up your tight leggings, and small zipped up sweater that clung to your body. “good morning, neighbor.” you greet her, and she keeps this stone cold expression etched onto her features.

“morning.” she flatly responds, clearly uninterested. “did you like the brownies?” you inquire curiously, as the elevator door closes behind you. “i’m not a fan of chocolate. i prefer pumpkin or apple.” she bluntly replies, and you don’t let her attitude discourage you. in fact, you visibly pep up at the newly found information. “i love pumpkin cinnamon rolls. next time i make some, i’ll bring some over for you.” you say, as the elevator door opens. “i’ll see ya around, neighbor! have a good day.” you call out as you rush towards the exit of the building. melissa rolls her eyes as the elevator doors close, and she continues her way to the parking garage.

your perkiness in the mornings was something melissa couldn’t adjust to. she didn’t want to. as soon as you realized the redhead was in the elevator every morning at 7:20, you were there as well. it was borderline obsessive in the redheads opinion, and she couldn’t stand that dopey grin on your face whenever you’d see her. it was like clockwork. she’d get in the elevator, click on the floor for the parking garage, and you’d squeeze in before the doors closed. she was beginning to consider taking the stairs.

she wasn’t sure how you knew when she was home, but on friday evening, she was in the middle of making dinner when a knock on the door caused her to knock over an open bottle of water. “shit! fuck— i’m comin’!” she yells out frustratedly as she makes her way to the front door. when she opens it, there you are with that stupid smile on your face. this time you’re holding a plate with a large slice of sweet bread on it, with icing slathered on top. it was saran wrapped cutely on the white plate.

“pumpkin cinnamon bread, with cream cheese icing.” your voice is light, and you’re gazing up at her with these big innocent eyes; just begging for her approval. there’s hopefulness laced into your orbs, and not even melissa has the heart to turn this away. “pumpkin in april… thanks kid.” she mutters, and if she thought your smile was big before… it seems to illuminate with her backhanded compliment. maybe it was the fact that one of her favorite students made her a painting in art class, and she was feeling particularly mushy today.

“you like pasta?” she asks you blandly, still sounding indifferent about your sudden intrusion on her dinner making. you nod eagerly, “yup! i haven’t had it in ages though… i don’t know any good italian spots around here, and i can’t cook to save my life.” you confess sheepishly, and she nods as she turns around and disappears into the apartment. she leaves her door wide open, and you stand there, clearly confused. “well, what ‘re you waiting for? come in, dinners almost ready.” she commands, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“unless you got somewhere else to be tonight?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to see how shocked you look. you shake your head quickly, “nope! it was just gonna be me and the takeout guy tonight.” you half joke, as you walk in, shutting the door behind you. you go quiet as you stand behind the counter, and melissa wipes up the water she had spilled earlier. she turns her head to see you glancing around the room, clearly nervous. it’s the quietest she’s ever heard you. “what? place not what you expected?” she asks, and your eyes lock with hers.

“i just… i didn’t think i’d get to see the inside of your place before i got to know your name.” you admit, and melissa can feel an uncontrollable smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “my names melissa.” she confesses, and your eyes go all soft at the revelation. “melissa… huh. that’s a pretty name. it suits you.” you blurt aloud, and she turns away to check on the pasta, hiding the blush that coats her cheeks.

melissa learns quite a bit about you after that. you’re twenty-four, you had lived in the west coast all your life, and you spent your teenage years stuck taking care of your grandma and siblings. the more melissa discovers about you, the harder it is for her to hate you. your kindness isn’t fake or falsified like most of the people around here; you speak every word with genuineness and sincerity. a routine seems to progress between the two of you; every friday evening you knock on her door with some new platter of sweets, and melissa proceeds to invite you in for dinner.

every friday turns into every other day, and before she knows it, you two are having dinner together every night. the redhead went from hating you, to enjoying your presence more than anyone else’s. at first, melissa assumed she simply enjoyed your company because she was lonely. but after a few months of you, she quickly realized what the little flutter in her belly meant whenever she’d see you. melissa’s head would grow fuzzy whenever you complimented her, and she turned into a blushing mess. not to mention how she couldn’t necessarily hide how happy she was to see you now.

she’d pick out a bottle of wine, and makes different recipes she thinks you’d like. she finds herself humming along to old italian songs as she cooks, waiting for the gentle knocks on her door.

tonight you brought her new york cheesecake with raspberry filling on top. you greet her as you push past her, placing the cake onto her counter. “i know, cheesecake is so bad for our health, but i had a terrible day.” you tell her, and you begin to ramble about how awful your boss is. though, all melissa can do is take in how absolutely beautiful you are. the way your hair falls, and moves as you talk with the emotions you wear on your face. when you don’t get a response from melissa for awhile, you look over and see her leaning against the door, staring at you with a peculiar expression.

“what? what’s wrong?” you question, she offers you a gentle shake of her head. “you’re really beautiful, you know that?” she blurts out, her entire demeanor changing as soon as she realizes what she just said. her eyes go wide as she stands up straight, instead of looking appalled or surprised, the blood rises to your face. a shy grin plasters itself onto your face, as you push your hair behind your ears before gazing at her like some shy schoolgirl. “you’re calling me beautiful? have you seen yourself?” you ask her, and that’s the moment that seems to solidify it for melissa.

the way her heartbeat picks up as the words leave your lips, and something in the pit of her stomach bursts, as if a million cocoons hatched into butterflies inside of her. she began to feel something she hasn’t felt since before she married joe. she couldn’t believe some western twenty something year old kid was making her feel this way.

you appear to be able to read melissa like an open book. she doesn’t have to tell you how she’s feeling for you to know. you’re the only person who’s ever been able to figure her out, and it’s scary. melissa also wasn’t an idiot. she could tell judging by the gleam of adoration in your eyes, you were growing quite the crush on her. sometimes she wonders why. you’re in your twenties, you’re hot, and you know how to bake a mean banana cream pie… melissa also sees how the doorman and a variety of other men ogle you in the mornings. you could have anyone you want, yet you spend your evenings eating melissa’s various italian recipes.

however, the redhead is very closed off. especially romantically. after joe, she’s dated around but nobody’s ever gotten a second date. she hasn’t been so intimate with someone in so long, even before her divorce, the marriage was falling apart. dinner every night was not an option for her and joe; he always came home late, and by the time he arrived his plate of leftovers were in the microwave. even when he’d be home while she was cooking, he’d eat in the living room in front of the tv. you were so enthralled by melissa, sometimes you could hardly focus on the food with how much attention you paid her.

she tries to hide the way she revels in your attention, and how the glimmer in your eyes directed towards her causes those stupid butterflies inside of her to repopulate. “you do not actually have random baseball bats around your apartment…” you trail off one evening, as you’re both sitting on melissa’s comfortable couch. there’s a glass of wine in each of your hands; you’re both on your second glass, and you’re sure it’s the expensive wine melissa keeps locked away. it makes you feel special when she puts so much thought into the dinners you two share. they mean something to you, and you’re positive they mean something to her as well.

“i do. they’re hidden around.” she explains, taking a sip of her wine. you let out a genuine giggle; your wide eyed gaze is pouring right into her, nobody’s ever looked at her with such reverence. something then flickers in her eyes as she remembers something; “speaking of… i’ve been meaning to give you one. ya look like you can’t swing for shit, but it’s better than ya having nothing to defend yourself with.” melissa rambles as she stands up, disappearing into her bedroom. your brows knit together in slight confusion as you wait for her to return.

when she does, she has a medium sized wooden bat. it was dark wood and looked brand new. “wait, you were serious?” you ask, letting out a breathless little chuckle. “you live on a questionable part of town, by yourself, y/n. you barely even forget to lock your door when you come over.” she scolds, sounding undoubtedly upset by the fact. your baffled features quickly morph into a soft expression, “you worried about me, lissa?” you tauntingly ask, and she lets out this vexed huff, waving the wooden bat closer to you.

“just take the damn thing and keep it by your bed.” she commands, while you gladly accept the strange but thoughtful gift. “it’ll make you feel safer.” she adds, her neck burning as you stare at her with a vulnerable look on your face. “okay. but i’ll have you know i’ve never felt safer than knowing my tough, kick ass neighbor is right across the hall.” you assure her, and something inside of melissa is slipping; whether it’s her resolve or the walls she so desperately tries to keep up. “thanks for worrying about me though. i worry about you too.” you clarify, and melissa would normally scoff at a comment like that.

she’d shake her head and demand for you to know she can take care of herself… but she can’t. as you stare into her eyes with the sole intent of wanting her to understand how much she means to you, melissa finds herself taking a seat beside you again, deciding to let the comment slide. maybe she enjoyed knowing someone as sweet as you cared about her. it’s been so long since anyone’s cared for her in this way; it was sort of foreign to her by now. yet it was also comforting.

though melissa often found herself thinking about what things would be like when you finally met somebody. if you’d opt to spending your evenings with your new girlfriend or boyfriend… if you’d look at them with the same gaze you’d look at her with. some evenings she’d catch herself staring at you, and she’d think of being in the shoes of some younger woman… someone who can give you the start at life that you need. you’re in your early twenties, and there’s no way you’d ever want someone old and used up like melissa.

so naturally, the night you invite melissa to your place for dinner instead of just heading to hers… she feels an odd bundle of nerves knotting up in her stomach. she changes after work; which is something she never does. she puts on that sundress she likes to wear when she’s feeling good about herself. as soon as you open the door, your eyes nearly bug out of your head. you have a grease stain on your cheek, she assumes it’s some kind of cooking oil. the apron you’re wearing is hiding the tight top and jeans you’re wearing underneath, but melissa thinks you’ve never looked more cute.

“you’re early! i— i’m still making dinner, please sit down.” you urge her, and melissa offers you that soft smile that seems to only be reserved for you these days. she looks around your place; taking in the pictures on the walls, and the flatscreen that’s too big in melissa’s opinion. she barely watches tv, and when she does it’s in bed on her phone. “yeah, i left a little early because ava hired some of the teachers some new assistants.” she tells you, and you cock a brow, flashing her an amused grin. “an assistant? how do you like that?” you question curiously, knowing how difficult it was for the redhead to warm up to new people.

she snorts, “the kids fine. she’s a little younger than you. can’t understand a word she says but the kids like her.” she murmurs, shrugging, before she looks over at you. you’re stirring whatever’s in the pot, and she quirks a brow. “you actually might like her.” melissa’s comment rolls off your back easily, you don’t seem to notice the difference in her tone. you laugh lightly, “i doubt that. i’ve never gotten along with girls that well. guys either.” you confess, and melissa snorts. “oh yeah, sure, the girl who makes conversation with the mailman doesn’t have any friends. who do you think you’re lying to here, kid?” she questions, and you frown, rolling your eyes. “i’m not a kid. and just because i know how to make conversation with people, doesn’t mean i have a lot of friends.” your voice is light, and lacks any sort of defense or malice.

melissa sort of envies how easy it is for you to talk about things. “i mean, even in high school i had like three friends. they all still live back home, and we talk from time to time but it’s not like we can just hang out every weekend, you know?” you begin to ramble as you stir the searing food in the pan. “you’re the only person who i hang out with, and i’m lucky you even wanna hang out with me.” you add half jokingly, and you turn to see an inscrutable expression etched onto the older woman’s face.

“anyone would wanna hang out with you… i mean one day you’re gonna find someone who can’t stay away from you.” melissa says in an abnormally gentle way, there’s a hint of sadness in her voice and you cock a brow at the redhead. “does it count if i’ve already found someone i can’t stay away from? i’m literally making beef stroganoff for her, and i almost burned down the kitchen twice just to impress her.” you admit, and on cue whatever is in the pan begins smoking.

melissa’s eyes widen as a blush coats her beautiful face. she rushes over to your side, “jesus, y/n! why didn’t you tell me you wanted beef stroganoff? i could make this in my sleep!” she begins to shoo you away, and you frown, shaking your head stubbornly. “because you always make dinner; i wanted to cook for you.” your fervent voice causes melissa’s heart to lurch in her chest. “i don’t just cook for just anybody, yanno’? i cook for you because i like ya, and don’t know how else to show it. i’m not all sweet like you.” she clarifies, and your heartbeat quickens as her words sink in.

she’s trying her hardest to avoid your eyes, and you can’t help the uncontrollable blush on your cheeks. “you like me?” you ask her, and she rolls her eyes. “like it wasn’t obvious when i cooked mac n cheese as a main dish. seriously, kid, your taste buds are strange.” she mutters, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the grin on your face. “yeah, well, as strange as my palette is, you like me.” you taunt her, and notice the way her focused stirring falters ever so slightly. she scoffs, forcing an exasperated expression on her face.

“don’t make me take it back.” she murmurs, and you can’t seem to stop grinning at her like an idiot.

the seasons change and so do things between you and melissa. it isn’t a significant enough change for you to mention it, but it is enough for you to feel the difference. melissa is so soft, and carefree around you now. before she was so tough and prickly; she’s still a bit prickly but you don’t mind getting poked in order to see her true self every now and then. you two appear to be doing this slow dance around the obvious feelings you have for one another.

melissa is way more reluctant than you are. she hates the way her mind works, but it’s not like she can control it. usually how cute and thoughtful you are washes away any doubts she has about herself, except for one day she runs out parsley, and has to run to the store. of course you offer to come along with her, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater and excitedly trotting by her side.

“you sure you don’t need anything else from here? you’re running out of juice.” you remind her and she mentally scolds herself. “you’re right! thanks hun.” she sweetly thanks you, making your face hot as she reaches for the orange juice. you both make your way to the checkout line, and you aimlessly look around at the chocolates. “y/n! hey!” a familiar voice causes you and melissa to turn around. you eyebrows rises slightly as you run into a woman who you went on a few dates with when you first moved here.

“tracy! hey!” you greet her, and she hugs you before you can even think. melissa is watching the interaction like a hawk, and as soon as the raven haired girl hugs you, there’s a burning sensation of pure rage deep rooted in her belly. her eyes narrow as “tracy” pulls away from you, and looks at you as if she wants to ravish you in the supermarket. “you never called me again! i had a lot of fun mini-golfing with you.” she says, and you sheepishly rub the back of your neck, clearly racking your brain for a flimsy excuse.

that’s when realization hits melissa; you dated this woman! the thought alone nearly makes her scoff. this was your type? mid-twenties, soft skin, hippie wannabe? “i just got really busy adjusting to living here and all that… but how are you?” you try to steer the subject away from the awkward final date you hated. it wasn’t fun for you; you had to force yourself to be some cool girl you clearly weren’t. “i’m good! how are you? what are you up to tonight?” she asks hopefully, and you smile.

“i’m good as well. this is melissa, we’re here picking up some parsley for dinner tonight.” you introduce the redhead, and tracy’s demeanor immediately shifts as she assumes the older woman is your girlfriend. “oh. hi, i’m tracy.” she introduces herself to the grade school teacher, holding out her hand for the second grade teacher to shake. melissa only nods curtly in in tracy’s direction, “hey.” she flatly responds. and you notice the tension in the air right away. “well, it was nice seeing you again, tracy.” you say suggestively, and tracy nods.

“yeah, you too. you should call me sometime.” she squeezes your arm before she leaves, and melissa looks as though she wants to murder you with her eyes. “next.” the checkout clerk calls out, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts. she places the orange juice and parsley down much harder than she intended; it even causes the middle-aged man to jump slightly. “rough day?” he questions with a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood. melissa shoots daggers at him with her eyes, causing his smile to fall as he clears his throat.

he scans the items quickly, “that’ll be $8.97.” he states; not a single slick remark left in him. melissa inserts her card, finishing the transaction without another word. she storms out of the supermarket with you in tow, trying to catch up to her as you follow her to her car. when you’re both strapped in, the car starts and the ride is quiet for the first minute and a half. you hate awkward silences, especially with her. “i honestly forgot i even tried dating when i first moved here.” you pipe up.

“well maybe now you can give her a call, since you’re no longer busy and adjusting.” she mocks your lame excuse from a few minutes ago, and you frown. “i didn’t— the reason i didn’t call her back wasn’t because i was adjusting—“ you try to explain yourself, but melissa cuts you off. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. we’re friends, i don’t care who you go on lousy dates with.” her voice is harsh, and it’s a tone you recognize all too well. it’s the same one she uses when she used to have her walls up high, refusing to let you get even a glimpse into her mind.

she doesn’t allow you to tell her it was solely because you didn’t want to call tracy again. the dates were terrible; the entire time you were just pretending to be someone you’re not. you only forced yourself to go because you had been living here for a month, and hadn’t made a single friend. melissa stubbornly cooks dinner, and the conversation through the night is short. you aren’t used to it, and it hurts. but you convince yourself tomorrow she’ll be ready to talk about it.

but the next morning, melissa must’ve left for work earlier than usual because you don’t see her in the elevator. you text her to have a good day, but never get a response. throughout the day you can’t help but think about her, and you wonder why she became so closed off after finding out about your meaningless dates with tracy. you understood she might’ve been a little jealous; sometimes you got jealous whenever she spoke about joe. but she seemed so genuinely upset, all you wanted to do was figure out what was going through her head.

you decide to make her some pumpkin carrot cake before heading to her apartment for dinner. it’s nearly six when you’re finished, and you place it in a tupperware nicely for her. you’re practicing in your head what you want to say to her tonight, and how you should assess the situation. by the time you knock on her door you have a simple smile on your face, and the door swings open, the sight nearly causing your eyes to bug out of their sockets.

melissa was wearing a tight black dress that hugged her body perfectly, and enhanced every single curve. the exposed cleavage caused you to force your eyes on hers in order not to sneak a longer peak. your hopeful smile falls a bit when you notice the hard expression on her face. before she can even ask you anything, you begin blabbering like you usually do. “look, i know you said we’re just friends, but there’s more to us than just that… we both know it. we may not have ever talked about it or what it means, but i haven’t dated anyone since this started…” you ramble, and melissa’s eyes soften for a split second, her hard facade slipping as a wave of panic washes over her.

“y/n—“ she tries, but the voice behind her is interrupting, causing your heart to fall right into your stomach. “everything okay, red?” a deep, unfamiliar voice asks, causing you to freeze. melissa suddenly has this unrecognizable expression of regret on her face. “y-yeah everything’s fine, gar.” she says back, “gary? as in the vending machine guy who’s been flirting with you all year, gary?” you ask in disbelief, and a slight bit of anger is mixed into your voice. she had been so upset about you going on a few dates with tracy before you two were even friends, and now she was here having a romantic dinner with gary. you could even smell the type of food she made him.

“he’s been asking me all year, and i decided since it’s been awhile since i’ve been on a date, i should get back out there.” melissa says the words she’s practiced saying to you in her head. she knew you’d come over today, you always do. she knew you’d see her with gary, and maybe she wanted that. she wanted you to feel how she felt when she saw you and tracy. though as you stare up at her with this kicked puppy-dog expression, she knows you aren’t feeling what she was feeling yesterday. you’re just straight up hurt and it’s written all over your face.

you glance down at the stupid dessert you spent all afternoon perfecting. “well, this is for you, because i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i can see now you weren’t upset at all.” you have to force yourself to speak, and you surprisingly hold it together as you shove the tupperware in melissa’s hands. you turn to walk back into your apartment, and a wave of regret flashes over the redhead. melissa reaches out for you, “y/n, wait—“ a firm but soft hand wraps around your wrist, but you pull it away from her as you spin around and flash her a dejected look. the sight breaks her heart in two.

“it’s fine. you were right; we’re friends. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i don’t care who you go on dates with.” you throw the words back in her face, and there’s a flicker of emotions on her face but you turn away and disappear into your apartment. melissa stands there staring at your door; she looks down at the cake in her hands and she hates how tight her chest gets. it’s like her heart might pop in her chest. she doesn’t feel the way she thought she would, and suddenly she mentally curses herself for thinking it’d feel good to hurt you.

melissa is off her game at work the next day. she texts you, and for the first time since you two became friends, you’re the one who doesn’t reply. the redhead realizes she made a mistake. instead of talking about her insecurities or how hurt she was when she saw you and tracy, she ended up jumping the gun and going out with the safest option. gary.

in truth she did like gary; maybe not enough to want to date him, but she found him moderately attractive. she also thought he was pretty funny, and he appears to like her a lot. though none of that was anything compared to what she felt for you. melissa could not stop thinking about you and that hurt face of yours all day. she even decides to cook your favorite food for dinner.

but when six-thirty rolls around, and you still haven’t knocked on her door, there’s a sinking sensation in her stomach. melissa huffs as she looks at the dinner she prepared, and thought of it going to waste angered her. or maybe it was the thought of you just standing her up, even though it’s not like she personally invited you tonight. maybe you think she’s with gary again.

usually melissa is very stubborn, and she would never consider going across the hall and begging you… but she can’t get you out of her damn head. so she takes her ass straight to your door, not even bothering to close hers. she knocks on your door vigorously, not stopping once until the door swings open to reveal you. your hair is damp, and you’re in an old oversized tee shirt; the printing was faded but the hem reached just below your thighs. melissa had to refrain herself from gazing down at your smooth legs.

“i cooked dinner and you’re ready for bed, what gives?” she questions, hating how she sounds like a petulant child. you look a bit surprised to see her, “don’t you have a date with gary and his mustache?” you ask a bit bitterly, and melissa scowls. “it was just dinner, y/n.” the redhead says, and you gaze up into her eyes. “dinner like we have?” you ask, and she huffs in response. “that’s different and you know it! you said it yourself yesterday, there’s more to us than just that.” she reminds you.

“i was clearly wrong.” you sound abnormally stubborn, and melissa sighs in frustration. “i’m not going to see gary again, kid. so just come on over and sit down for dinner.” she commands, and you shake your head defiantly.

“no.” you retort, and she raises a brow, obviously shocked by the disobedience. “no?” she asks you in the warning tone she uses whenever one of her students is testing her. “that’s right, i’m saying no. ever since this started, i’ve always done what you say. i go at your pace, i wake up earlier just to see you, i don’t bake anything with chocolate because you hate chocolate. did you know it’s my favorite? i do whatever you ask to satisfy you. i put my feelings to the side, just to make sure yours are valid. all for my efforts to be outweighed by a guy who restocks the gushers in the vending machine.” you stress, sounding reasonably upset.

“why did you even get so upset about tracy the other day if you were planning on going out with gary? i don’t understand you.” you add, and the dam melissa built to keep her emotions in abruptly bursts. “exactly! you don’t understand me! you’re this young kid who has her whole life to look forward to. this is just a passing moment in your life; this apartment, this city, our dinners, me.” her voice lowers, “you got your whole life ahead of ya, you shouldn’t waste it tryin’ ta’ understand me. you should be dating girls like tracy who are equipped with all sorts of emotions, and able to give you what you need.” she adds, and you frown as she pours her heart out to you. she appears to be full of regret, and vulnerability.

“and what exactly do i need, lissa?” you can’t help but ask, and she runs her fingers through her soft red locks. “you need someone who’ll take care of ya, and show ya how much they care about you. you need someone who isn’t old and afraid of what everyone else thinks. maybe someone who wouldn’t completely embarrass the shit out of ya whenever you decide to take them back to your hometown…” she trails off, now she’s avoiding your eyes and the abnormal, unconfident demeanor causes you to frown. you practically worship the ground melissa walks on; even if she didn’t know it, you were completely enamored by her. it frustrates you to know she doesn’t put herself on a similar pedestal.

“you are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on. when i met you, i felt this instant pull that i had never felt before. god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you, and it makes me so mad that you don’t think of yourself that way. i love you, you know? everything about you; the crinkles by your eyes whenever you smile, the way you curse when you’re angry, your southern philly accent… that irritated frown on your face whenever you’re upset.” you begin to get lost in your words, the space between you both getting smaller and unnoticed. her heart palpitates as you rave on and on about her with this genuine expression of stringent affection.

“you have all these amazing qualities, and you sell yourself short. you’re the best freakin’ cook in the world; the best and sexiest teacher in the world; you’re tough as nails; you have this energy that follows you, it’s fierce and warm. just like you. and as for your age, it’s hard for me too…” the last comment makes her eyes harden, and you’re quick to add, “… but it’s not because i think you’re old, mel. it’s because sometimes i feel like you don’t think of me as your equal. you just think of me as this young kid who’s a burden. but i know who i am, and what i want. i keep a memory of everything you do in the back of my head, and the space in my mind you take up is only getting bigger and bigger. you’re it for me, i’m positive, because how can i see anyone else when you’re engraved in my mind and heart?” you ask her, pouring your whole heart out to her.

your eyes widen when you see the tears threatening to fall from her delicate green eyes. “that’s— that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me… you— that was more romantic than the vows at my wedding…” melissa’s voice cracks and she tries to put on that stony facade, but it doesn’t work. your words seemed to have broken one of the steel walls she puts up; it’s crumbled into millions of pieces and left her exposed in front of you. her eyes are unguarded and her expression is fragile. she feels so small.

“you can’t just say things like that!” she snaps, her voice higher than usual. you shake your head, “why not? you deserve to hear more good things about yourself, and i can go on all night.” you sheepishly admit, and melissa’s eyes soften when they meet yours. “you really feel that way about me? even though i’m probably older than your mom?” she half jokes, but the self-doubt is leaking through her tone. “you are definitely way hotter than my mother.” you mutter, and melissa gasps but can’t manage to fight to the grin that’s tugging at her lips.

“gee kid, you feel all of that for me and have never even tried ta’ kiss me? what gives?” you can hear the genuine curiosity behind the playful question, and your cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you wanted me. i mean, yesterday when i saw you with hulk hogan—“ she cuts in, “gary.” she corrects and you scowl cutely, “whatever. when i saw you with him it kind of reminded me you’re a woman who needs someone to take care of you and i… i’m just a kid.” you look down at your sock covered feet, and before you can even think about anything else, melissa is cupping your face and making you face her.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and the butterflies in your belly begin to repopulate one by one. she pulls away before you can think twice, “you’re not just a kid to me. you’re a good person, y/n. i’m sorry i was so immature about everything.” she sounds ashamed, but the sincerity in her voice makes your heart speed up. your cheeks burn and maybe the kiss sweetened you up a bit. “it’s okay, lissa. i understand… next time just talk to me.” you assure her and she smirks. “or i can just kiss ya again and see where that gets me.” she half jokes, making you grin.

“or that too.”

#melissa schemmenti x fem reader #melissa schemmenti x fem reader angst #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter x reader

481 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 months

Note

52,54,32, and 37 on the prompt list with melissa schemmenti pls😩🙏🏼

Mommy Knows Best ~Dark!Mommy!Melissa Schemmenti xFem CollegeStudent!Reader

Summary— Reader has been best friends with Melissa’s daughter, Abigail Schemmenti, and she has always butted head with Melissa… One fateful holiday break changes it all. Anon Response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for the request! Absolutely. This went a little dark, but also a good amount of smut. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#52. “Fuck… Mommy! … Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?”

#54. “You can call me Mommy/Daddy if you want too…”

#32. Enemies to lovers troupe

#37. Best Friend’s Mom Troupe

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, heavy smut, dark fic, fingering, strap-on riding, age gap (all legal), enemies to lovers, best friends mom, degradation, praise, smutty smut, mommy kink, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, overstimulation kink, teasing, taunting, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Hey An’ you gonna keep that door open, right Abigail??” Your best friend’s mother shouted from the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes lightly at Melissa’s, as she insisted you call her, comment, as Abi, your bff, yelled back at her mother.

“Ughhhh Mooooooom, I’m not in high school anymore!!” Abigail yelled from her bedroom on the ground floor, “And I’m not even gay!!!”

“Doesn’t matta’!!! I am your mother, Abigail Ruth Schemmenti, and you will leave that door open!!” Melissa’s thick accent boomed through the house.

Now it was Abigail’s turn to roll her eyes, as you looked at her in apology for what she had to deal with.

“Fineeeee!!” Your best friend shrieked back, leaving the door to her bedroom ajar, before turning her attention back to you.

“It’s not like I would do anything anyway…” you grumbled in annoyance, from the edge of Abi’s childhood bed, “I don’t like you like that…”

Abigail came to sit on the edge next to, leaving against the headboard as she rolled her eyes once more.

“I know, my mom, she’s just… ughhhhh!!” Abigail groaned, squeezing her fists together dramatically in the air.

“Yea…” you chuckled, “At least you don’t have to see her much anymore… well except holidays and breaks…” you comforted her.

Abigail sighed.

“That’s true… Anyways, to you…” she said, quickly changing the topic to something more upbeat and less tension filled,

“You still banging that hot redhead…?” Abigail said in a low tone, while wiggling her eyebrows.

You looked away in awkwardness, clearly not wanting to discuss that subject. You and Abi had been friends since middle school, so she knew your cues. And Abigail immediately understood that she had touched upon a sore subject.

“No, it’s fine… It just… didn’t work out…” you muttered.

“Hey, it’s okay…” Abi comforted you, coming forward to grab your left hand on the bed, but you pulled away, so she retracted, leaning back against the headboard.

You finally looked over to your bff after a moment in sadness and embarrassment.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re my best friend. When you’re ready to talk about it, I know you will…” She reassured you.

You gulped and then nodded. Abigail then met your gaze with a mischievous smirk, before proceeding to throw a pillow at you. The fluffy square hit you right in the face, making you yelp and look at your bff in mock shock.

“Hey!!” You exclaimed, then throwing it back, but missing terribly.

Abigail was laughing, and soon you were as well. Her laugh was always so infectious. Your best friend always knew how to make you feel better. After you had both caught your breath, you spoke,

“So, how’s college for you?” You asked.

While you she chosen to stay in Phili for college, Abigail had gone to Chicago. It was the ultimate betrayal against her mother, and you knew that Abigail needed an out. You always looked forward to holidays and breaks, because that meant that you would get to see your best friend again.

“Don’t tell my mom… but it’s so freakin’ nice…” Abigail sighed with a little giggle, leaning in close so that only you would catch her confession, “And… I met a guy…”

Your eyes widened and you smiled wide. Your eyes lit up, you were truly excited for your best friend. You smacked your best friend’s foot playfully.

“Alright!! Let’s go, Abi!!!” You exclaimed in a low whisper.

Abigail went a little red and giggled even more. She was about to delve into more detail about this new mystery man, before Melissa came into the doorway of Abigail’s room.

“Abigail, Momma needs some mozz and a couple other things for her lasagna tonight… Run to the Italian bistro that Uncle Joe runs and pick some up fresh for me?” Melissa spoke leaning against the doorframe, asking it like a question, when it really was an order.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Abigail couldn’t say no to her mother, especially in person. Abigail immediately agreed, and Melissa was quick to flash a fake smile and hand her daughter a list of a dozen things that would take Abi at least and an hour and a half to acquire.

“I’ll go with…” you mumbled, as Abigail got ready to leave.

Standing up and grabbing your coat from the nearby chair, you went to walk past Melissa and follow Abigail, but Melissa grabbed your arm, halting you in place.

“Stay.” She purred, flashing another one of those sickening smiles.

Your stomache flipped upside down, and your eyes widened. Abigail was at the other end of the hall, towards the living room, grabbing her keys and turning back towards you.

“You coming?” Your best friend asked.

You gulped, looking from your bff to Melissa, then back to Abigail.

“I… Actually I think I’ll stay… Help M-Melissa with all the cooking…” you stammered.

Abigail looked at your quizzically, but Melissa was swift to turn on her heels, now facing her daughter.

“No worries right, you can handle it alone, can’t you Abigail…?” Melissa cooed, batting her eyelashes at her impressionable daughter.

Abigail stammered a yes before promptly leaving out the front door. You gulped and just stood there, a little awkward. Melissa after a second then turned back to you.

“Why don’t you help me in the kitchen, hmmm babe…?” Melissa cooed sweetly.

Shivers went through your spine and the lump in your throat became apparent at the pet name, and you just stared at the woman, frozen in the moment. Then linking her arm in yours, Melissa guided you to kitchen before you could even respond.

She let you go at the kitchen island, leaving you there as her hips swayed to the liquor cabinet. She reached up and opened the cabinet, then twisted her gaze to you, a certain glimmer in her eye.

“You drink, ‘Hun…?” Melissa coyly asked, “I assume you do by the way my liquor cabinet was always raided, and Abi is such a good girl, she would never drink unless influenced by someone like you…”

Your mouth stood open as you stood frozen once more at the kitchen island counter. Melissa chuckled, pulling you back into reality and registering the dig that your best friend��s mom had just made to you. You gritted your teeth and stared daggers into the woman as her back was turned to as while she got two classes and some red wine.

She came to the other side of the counter, popping the wine cork and beginning to pour two glasses. Your heart was racing and you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“I only drink on occasion…” you grumbled, answering Melissa’s question, “And you’d be surprised at what Abi does…”

Melissa flashed you a wicked smile and cocked her eyebrow, handing you the glass filled with the alcohol. You immediately took a sip or three to try and calm your nerves.

“Oh is that so…?” She hummed, coming around the island, wine glass in hand, and linking her free arm in yours once more,

“Why don’t you tell me all about that, and maybe I won’t bust you for being a minor consuming alcohol…” Melissa teased, as she guided you into the living room.

“S-she’s my best friend… I’m no snitch…” you breathed out, your heart pounding in your ears.

Melissa chuckled and guided you to the two person love seat in the living room, sitting down next to you, and taking a sip of her own wine. You followed suit, sipping more of the red, liquid courage. It tasted sweet and expensive.

“Touché… I knew there was something about you…” she purred.

Melissa held her glass with her left hand and placed her right on your left, exposed thigh. Your eyes widened and you looked at her hand. Sparks of electricity rushed through your entire body, all ending up in the same place, your throbbing core. You gulped, turning you attention to your glass and taking some more sips of alcohol.

“Back there I heard something about a certain redhead… Why don’t you tell me about that…?” Melissa hummed, that wicked smirk back on her face, with a tilt to her head.

Her fingers started to caress your thigh, and you weren’t sure whether you deeply regretted or thanked god that you had decided to wear a skirt today.

“I… I was seeing her… but… she cheated on me…” you stammered, looking at your wine glass as your swirled the red liquid in the glass.

“Poor Cucciolina…” Melissa purred, with an edge to her tone,

Her fingers worked their way further up your thigh, you felt your pussy clench around nothing. You felt the woman’s lips graze against your ear, making your breath hitch.

“I would never do that to you…” Melissa purred in the shell of your ear.

Your stomache was bursting with feelings, twists and butterflies and knots and rocks. Your lips parted as you let out an obviously desperate whimper. Melissa chuckled darkly in your ear. Then you felt her warm mouth on your neck. Your neck immediately craned back for her access, and you let out breathy groan as she sank her teeth into your skin.

At this point you knew you regretted nothing, the pleasure and intensity was all worth it. You knew it was probably wrong, that this was your best friend’s mom. And this woman drove you crazy… you hated how she treated your best friend. She was certainly never mom of the year.

But as her mouth wandered down your neck, you knew you needed more. Sucking, and licking, and biting, and marking all along your exposed, goose bumped skin, all logic and ideas of right and wrong were thrown out the window.

Melissa, it seemed, had already placed her glass aside on the side table, and as she sucked a bruise along your neck line, her hands followed your arms and proceeded to take the glass away from you. She pulled away momentarily, making you whimper and and try to lean into her touch, but Melissa was quick to put you back in your place.

“You take what you are given… Understand…?” Melissa purred warily, the hand on your thigh tightening and threatening to leave a mark.

You sucked in a breath, straightening your back as you swiftly nodded. The woman then eased her grip to your thigh and brought your glass up to your lips, pressing and tilting it into your mouth.

“Good. Now drink up…” She breathed out, smirking as you immediately complied.

You gulped the rest of the sweet yet tangy liquid down. Melissa then set the glass aside. As some of the excess wine dribbled down your chin and neck, Melissa leaned forward, her tongue expertly licking up all the dribbled wine from your exposed skin. Your pupils darkened and blew out at the sight, your heart faltering at how hot your best friend’s mom looked while licking up the red liquid from your skin. You shivered once more at the thought of how good her tongue would feel in other places…

Melissa read your reaction like a children’s picture book. She drank in your blown out pupils, erratic breathing, goosebumps, and much more to come… Her fingers now dipped into your inner thighs, her access stunted by your closed legs. They stopped moving, teasing, and it made you want to scream. Scream at the woman to keep going. Scream at her that she was insane. Scream that this was wrong. Scream and beg her to not stop. Scream out in many expletives how much her teasing was driving you crazy. But all that came out was a pathetic whimper.

“Awwwww… Are you conflicted, ‘hun…?” Melissa mockingly cooed, her voice dripping with taunts and lust, “Can’t decided whether you want me to hate you or fuck you…?” Her voice purred darkly and lustfully.

Jolts of pleasure and electricity erupted through your core at the woman’s tone, brashness, pet name, and use of an expletive. You bit your lip as you let out a breathy gasp. The combination of the alcohol and her teasing was making you dizzy.

You wanted… you didn’t know what… actually you did. But it was too difficult to admit it to yourself. For years, you had stuffed all your feelings down, you had reverted to others to fulfill your desires. All because it was too hard to accept your desires for your best friend’s mom.

Your desires for the redheaded woman. The desire to have an older, more experienced partner. Your want to be dominated and controlled by the woman that drove you crazy. Your want to throw logic and your best friend aside and kiss her. The woman who was overbearing and controlling to your best friend. The woman who you’d imagined late at night many times when your fingers worked skillfully in between your legs.

As if Melissa knew the exact thoughts racing through your mind, she interrupted,

“You know what I think…?” Melissa cooed wickedly, pushing your legs open slowly just enough to fit her hand in between your plush thighs,

You watched her fingers attentively, as your heart pounded in your head and beads of sweat ran down your face. Melissa proceeded to lick the bead of sweat off of your face and neck.

“I think that you try so desperately hard to hate me… I think you don’t like me because of Abigail… You think I’m a bad mother.” Melissa purred, as her fingers circled patterns deeper into your inner thigh going under your skirt,

Her other hand had put the empty wine glass aside, and was now tugging at your flimsy shirt. She tugged the sleeves down with ease, and cupped your bare breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a breathy whimper, internally praising whatever higher power that you had decided to go braless that day.

“I think you project all of this for Abigail and for your own sanity… Because it’s easier to accept than the truth… The truth that keeps you up at night. I keep you up at night…” the older woman continued to lustfully cooe,

But your eyes shot open, your hips jolted forward, and you let out a pathetic mewl, as two of her digits finally ran up and down your clothed core, while simultaneously taking your left nipple in her mouth and twisting your bus with her teeth.

“AhhHhHhh—” you choked out in a mewl, desperate and quickly meeting Melissa’s gaze as she drank you in with a wicked smirk.

If she didn’t have you attention before, she definitely had it now…

“And the truth while you can’t stand the fact of it… is that you can’t help how your body reacts to me… craves me… needs me…” Melissa darkly chuckled, her tone low and seductive by the end.

Your head was swimming and you don’t even remember when it started, but your hips were grinding against the ghost of the woman’s fingers. You let out a shuttering breath, whimpering and moaning as the redhead’s mouth started to mark up and tease your breasts. Her dark, lust glistening eyes met your desperate gaze.

“Say it, Cucciolina… Tell me I’m right. You know I am…” Melissa breathed out, while switching from one tit to the other.

“You—You’re right…” you stammered, panting, completely out of breath.

Melissa seemed to like that, because you quickly felt her two digits back on your core, sneaking around your panties, to find your semi-wet pussy.

“Mmmmm… you aren’t dripping… I’ll fix that.” She lustfully purred, growling the last part in her seductive, low tone.

Her fingers swiftly plunging into your core, your body immediately spasmed, her walls fluttering and clenching around her digits. Your hips stuttered to keep pace with her delicious assault against your cunt.

“Holy Fuck… Mommy!!…” you shrieked, your whole body exploding with pleasure as her fingers curled deep inside you over and over again.

Your eyes widened and your face went beet red at your words. Your hands were gripping the couch tight, so tight your knuckles were white. But that wasn’t your current concern…

“Oh my, I’m so s-sorry, it it just… slipped out…?” You stuttered, not able to meet the woman’s gaze in embarrassment.

But Melissa only smirked even more. Her thrusts and curls of her digits inside your pussy only intensified, fucking you faster and deeper. You groaned, really loud, as her fingers filled, stretched, and scissored your pussy.

“No apologies… you look real pretty, accepting who you really are…” Melissa cooed wickedly, “Look at me.”

Your eyes went wide and you turned your head back to the older woman. Her tongue was swirling around your right bud, and it made you cry out in pleasure once more. This only spurred the redhead on even more.

“Say my name, baby…” she commanded wickedly.

The squelching of her fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, combined with your sinful noises made the room reek of sex and lust. When you didn’t respond, a third digit slipped inside you, the older woman’s pace never faltering one bit.

“Oh Shit MOMMY!!!” You shrieked, her fingers stretching you out even further and your hands only tightening their grip on her couch.

Melissa hummed in delight, her other hand now replacing her mouth at your tits, while her mouth went to assault your pressure point. Your hips jerked up to grind against her hand, desperately seeking friction against your clit. Babbles and string of whimpers erupted from your throat, your mind now fully gone.

“So needy…” the older woman chuckled, continuing all her administrations with lust and intention, “You can call me Mommy if you want too…”

Her words sparked even more intense pleasure throughout your entire body, and you felt your hands start to wander, but your resisted the urge, part of you not being able to understand how this could have switched on such a dime. Part of you still hated her. So your hands stayed off of the woman. But your hips and the rest of your figure told a whole different story… and your moans and whimpers was all the confirmation that Melissa needed.

“Such a slutty girl for mommy, aren’t ya’…?” Melissa cooed lustfully.

The older woman pumped her digits into you with skill, precision, and speed. She watched you with intent gaze, seeing exactly what curl and thrust pattern made you moan and jolt and scream. Melissa was a quick learner, and the closer she pushed you to the edge, the better she learned the pleasures of your body.

“Oh baby… Are you gonna cum…? Need to cum for mommy so bad…?” Melissa taunted you with a dark chuckle.

Your eyes were screwed tight shut as you nodded vigorously. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your orgasm crashed over you. Your hips stuttered in their rhythm of grinding into the redheads hand, but Melissa kept up her pace of fucking you through your climax. Even after you came down, the older woman didn’t stop. You squirmed in oversensitive pleasure as she didn’t relent.

“M-mommyyy please…!!” You whimpered, thrashing against her in the amount of intense pleasure you felt as she drove you to your next impending climax.

“Poor little slut… Can’t get enough of mommy…??” Melissa jeered lustfully.

Your hips stuttered as they rutted against her hand. The sounds of your pussy squelching rang in your head, pushing you only further to the edge. You felt like you were being suffocated, but in a deliciously dizzy way. Your mouth was open, your tongue out as you gasped for breaths in between each precise thrust of her digits.

Right as you were approaching your second orgasm however, Melissa pulled out of you. Your eyes flew wide open and your jaw dropped, followed by a desperate whimper. The older woman’s eyes sparkled and she had a wicked grin plastered on her face.

“Hush, baby.” Melissa purred, grabbing you and pulling you into her lap.

You gasped as you felt something in between her legs. You immediately began grinding down on her bulge, your breaths turning ragged and your hands on her shoulders for support.

“Mommy wants your next high to by on my cock…” Melissa hummed with a dark edge to her tone.

You looked up from your administrations and gulped. You nodded vigorously.

“Please” you whispered, “need it… need it so bad mommy…” while grinding roughly against the woman’s lap.

Melissa chuckled and had you undress all the way as well as helping her, so that in a couple minutes, you were back in her lap, naked and ready for mommy’s cock. Your hands came to the woman’s tits and chest, playing with her as she lined you up with her plastic dick.

With a low groan, you began to sink down onto the woman, all the way to the hilt of the strap. You let out a sinful whimper, feeling full but still unsatisfied. Melissa’s hands held your hips in a firm grip, and her back arched into your touch. She tantalizingly wiggled her hips below you, making the strap-on move slightly inside you. Another desperate whimper and then groan left your lips.

“What’s to stop mommy from just having you cockwarm my dick…?” Melissa cooed wickedly.

You quickly met the older woman’s merciless gaze, desperation and begging all over your face.

“No no mommy please…!! Need it, need it so bad… mmm give it to me mommy uhhhhhh…!!” You cried out, your grip on the redhead’s shoulder and chest tightening.

In response, Melissa rolled your and her hips together, pushing her dick up and into you in one fluid motion, before pulling it partially out as her hips came back down. Your mouth opened in a silent plea, as your body convulsed in pleasure, the ridges of the toy overstimulating your tight cunt.

“Like that, pretty whore…? What mommy to give you slow, hard thrusts until you’re destroyed…?” Melissa taunted you darkly and full of lustful intent.

Melissa then continued these extremely slow yet brutal thrusts, pumping the toy in and out of your aching pussy. You wanted to cry. You wanted to cum. Every thrust was just not enough stimulation for you to cum, the woman knew exactly what she was doing. You tried to beg, babbles of pleading erupting from your lips already after the second thrust and every one after that, begging her to go faster, to fuck you rough. But Melissa didn’t listen.

“You need to learn that we do things mommy’s way, little slut… If you’re good, I’ll let you cum… eventually…” Melissa reassured you, after the eleventh tortuously slow pump in and out of your cunt.

You’d lost any and all composure. All your babbling was incoherent now, and you had tears streaming down your face. But anytime Melissa asked you if it was too much or if you wanted to stop, you begged her to keep going, pleaded with the woman to not let you off easy. Melissa’s face washed over with pride every time you cried to her that you wanted desperately for her to continue.

“What do you want, baby…? You want mommy to make you cum right…?” Melissa wickedly purred into your ear, while continuing to fuck you dumb at a brutally slow pace.

You nodded lazily, too cock drunk to say anything but slurred words.

“Pleaseeeeeee mmmommmyy…” you whined.

“Cum for mommy, honey, I know you want to… know you need it…” Melissa purred lustfully.

With one finally thrust into your sobbing pussy, the tight coil wrapped around your entire body suddenly snapped. The most intense waves of euphoria you’d ever experienced crashed over you, and you rocked back and forth in Melissa’s lap, as the woman guided you to ride her dick faster as you came.

“That’s it, such a pretty whore for mommy…” the older woman breathed out.

After a few minutes, you’d fallen limp in the woman’s lap, her cock still buried deep inside you. Melissa chuckled at how you put up a whiny fight as she took you off her cock. You didn’t like the sudden emptiness she now left you with, you wanted to feel her all over you again. Wanted to feel full and owned again.

But Melissa stood up, walking into the kitchen to clean her strap-on, and when she eventually called you into the kitchen, she promptly cleaned you up, before going back to her cooking and acting as if nothing had happened.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

463 notes · View notes