PLEASEEEEEER write more about childhood bestie dennis whitaker. "Your first everything" literally changed my life omg
by the way you guys…i PLAN on having a part 2 of that fic (two bc i have two different visions in my brain—ones depressing, the other not so much) but here’s a little coke to get you through the drought.
cw: black!fem!reader, dry humping, semi!public sex, in the same universe but not a sequel, you and dennis are madly in love, mentions of church, sneaking out, making out, language, not properly proofread yet!
sometimes you and dennis liked sneaking off to the fields when your respective families were peacefully in dreamland, not having a clue of what you two were up to. dennis would push his dads pick-up truck far enough from his house so nobody could here the engine rumble. he’d park outside of your house and watch you with hearts eyes as you slipped out the front door. he always thought you looked beautiful no matter what; he didn’t care if your curls were messy, if your clothes were lazy, if you were barefaced. only beauty in his eyes. you were out the house in a oversized jacket and a pair of old shorts—he knows that you hate those shorts, but they must’ve been the only thing you could find as a replacement for your pjs. but he didn’t care. he loved all of your clothes.
when you met eyes, the smile on your faces was uncontrollable. you put a pep in your step and dashed to the truck, swung the door open and hopped inside. “hi, denny,” you murmured softly, looking over to the round-eyed boy with a matching sense of adoration coursing in your energy. “h-hi.” he stammered. of course, he did. even after knowing you for most of his life, he still got nervous. “c’mon, let’s go. we have to be fast or they’ll notice,” you said, placing your hand on his thigh and giving it a light squeeze. the pressure, your touch, and the sweetness of your voice makes dennis’ dick twitch in his sweatpants. he nodded and says “you’re right. can’t be out for too long.”
the short trip is mostly quiet. it never seemed like dennis and you had much to talk about when you were alone with each other. just the comfortable silence of the shared company. it was like you ran out things to talk about…or the things you had to say were to embarrassing to speak out loud. you would’ve talked about how good he made you feel the other day, but the words only get caught in your throat. dennis would bring up how badly he wanted to touch you and have all of you as his, but he’d just smile at you instead, letting the blush completely overpower the paleness of his cheeks. when you got to your destination, it’s like a sense of relief washed over you both. the tension was soon to be released and let out into the night sky.
like the gentleman he is, dennis hopped out the truck first and opens the door for you. your hand clasped into his as you stepped out into the grass. you dragged him behind you, walking to a spot to settle down for the evening. dennis could hear his heart beat in his ears. it’s not like you’ve never done this before, but the excitement was always overwhelming. he never knew how your moments would end. the newness was one of his favorite things about being with you. living in the lively town of broken bow was predictable. he had the same tasks of the farm, the same shit from his brothers at the same time everyday, he went to church at the same time on the same sunday—his weeks felt like groundhogs day. a never ending repetitive cycle. but you made life different. a staple that he wasn’t losing his damn mind. your lives together was spontaneous and thrilling. knowing that you guys could get in trouble at any minute was scary, but it was part of the fun. and at least he could get in trouble with you.
the grass was plush underneath your body. natures cushion kept you comfortable for the time being. you looked up at the starry sky, pretending like you haven’t snuck away for one reason. dennis looks at you like you’re the stars themselves, lashes fluttering at the way you glow. “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen…” he whispered, lifting a hand to stroke your cheekbone. his physical sentiment is slightly hesitant, but your hand cradles his as an act of encouragement. “you don’t be mean that,” you huff out a soft laugh, still not looking him in the eyes. dennis hates that. “look at me,” he ordered, but it comes out as a gentle ask. you give in, letting out a sigh as you turn your head toward him. “i mean it more than anything in the world. i swear.”
getting between you legs, he kissed you passionately. he got better at kissing every time you guys committed the act—at least you think so. dennis was the first boy you’ve ever kissed, touched, loved. all of him was normal to you. how it was supposed to be. dennis panted into your mouth, mumbling your name every time he pulled away and joined again. your fingers had a life of their own, traveling up and down his broad shoulders, up his shirt and raking his soft tummy. he whimpers at the sensation. “th-that—feels nice,” he said between the kisses, gripping onto your thighs and wrapping them around his torso so you’re slotted together. “i-it does? you want more?” you asked with excitement. you were always ready to make him feel good however you could.
“let’s..lets do this first, okay? c-can take off your shorts?” he always asked despite you telling him he didn’t have to. you nodded softly, lifting your hips so he could remove your bottoms. you winced when the cool night air hit the wet patch of arousal. “you okay?” dennis asked, big hands going up and down your thighs to sooth whatever was wrong. “yea, just a little cold.”
“don’t worry, this’ll warm you up,” he smiled, bordering along a sense of confidence. unfortunately, he hadn’t savored it before he needed to awkwardly shimmey out of his pants, but at least he got to hear your giggle.
finally, the two of you were bottomless out in the open. it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified of being caught, but denny kissed the thoughts away. he was back between your legs, kissing you breathless as he grinds slowly against your clothed-cunt. the contact made you both gasp in unison, holding onto each other for dear life before dennis hardly got started. then, he rolled his hips again. he was already wet, sticky pre-cum seeping through his boxers and making it easier for him to work. dennis whimpered softly with you, head falling into the crook of your neck as he built up a rhythm that had you both making loud noises of pure pleasure. dennis tried his hardest to not swear, but he can’t think of any other words that’ll express how good he feels between your legs. against your sex. “shit—oh, g-god!” he gasped into your neck, hips rolling against your rapidly. he was going too fast, but it was the perfect speed for the pent up desire you and dennis have kept in for a time too long for comfortability. you had a problem with forming coherent words when you and dennis had your moments together. all you did was whimper and moan. you were slight jealous of den’s ability of expressing himself during it, even if he was using forbidden words.
you were close, he was close. dennis had been holding back for you. he hated coming too early. it felt mean. why would dennis want to be mean to you? so he kept it to himself for as long as he could before moaning out a loud, “m’close—fuck—so close.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pull his impossibly close, mumbling words of agreement. maybe they were word, but dennis understood and that’s all that mattered. you both came together, sounds of love being let out for anyone to here, but no one else heard as far as you guys are concerned. they were just for each other to hear.
when the fic has 10k+ words, fluff, angst, smut right at the end, friends to lovers, character who’s down bad for reader, AND Y/N DOESNT ACT LIKE A CHILD
People were calling me delusional when I said the pitt writers were being racist for writing off THREE poc women now Isa Briones was snubbed from the emmys and Sepideh Moafi was the only person not being congratulated by hbos twt. When do we start accepting that the poc people are being discriminated against here?
I can't stop thinking about tlou mcvadi au... it's so delicious it's like ranch au plus pittpocalypse... like... Cassie McKay with her cabin out in the woods, self-sustaining, hunts and has a little farm etc. poor, lost, Victoria Javadi, slumped against a tree outside the property, tired and looking so small, hungry and grimy. must've been out here by yourself for some time, kid.
cassie who checks her over for bites, finding none, victoria who mumbles the cutest little noises as she stirs slightly at the touch. cassie who hauls her up like one of the deer she hunts, deciding she'll keep her— at least get some food in her. what kind of person would she be to leave this girl out to die like that, huh? and it just so happens to be such a pretty, pretty girl <3
I hope Trinity never forgives Langdon. I hope she never accepts his apology, never forgets what he said to her, and that she holds that grudge forever.
She’s not obligated to forgive him. And even if he tries to redeem himself through his actions she still shouldn’t have to forgive him.
She should watch her mouth in front of conscious patients and be professional in front of them, but outside of that I want her to be petty.
victoria faints at work, and when cassie runs to check on her, she finds other doctors performing a quick ECG on her to ensure she's okay. Cassie is alllll over vic bcs she's so worried about her girl, and vics heart rate speeds up on the monitor when she gets closer 😵💫😵💫
“HULA HOOP,” she hears Emma yell - probably the person most primed to say it after the events on the fourth. Cassie is alert immediately, looking down the hall. Then she hears the sound of a body hitting the ground, the clatter of IV stands and equipment going down with it.
She makes it into the room in time to see Robby and Trinity lifting an unconscious Victoria onto the thankfully open bed.
Her heart stutters in her chest and she forces herself to hang back long enough for Emma to get EKG wires placed on the girl under her shirt. Cassie averts her gaze. Her hands are restless at her sides. Her feet want to stumble forward.
Cassie turns back just in time to see Emma rub at Victoria’s sternum. Victoria whimpers, finally coming to and trying to shove the poor nurse off of her. Robby and Trinity back off to give her some space, and that’s all the permission Cassie needs.
“Hey, hey baby,” the pet name slipping out like breathing as she cradles her student’s face, “what happened?”
Victoria’s eyes open wide, looking at her in wonder and nuzzling into her hand.
“Wh-am I dreaming?”
Trinity coughs to cover a laugh somewhere behind them. Cassie blushes, brushing Victoria’s sweaty hair out of her face, her other hand reaching down to hold Victoria’s own against the bed, intertwining their fingers for the first time ever- but it feels natural to the both of them.
Robby’s eyes dart over as the monitors beeping accelerates, Victoria’s heart rate skipping from 70 bpm to 90 in almost a single shaky breath.
His eyes narrow as all the other stats stay stable.
Cassie raises her eyebrows at the girl she’s completely hovering over, nearly blocking her from the overhead lamp like an eclipse. Her red hair is a frizzy halo around her head.
Victoria’s eyes dart over to the traitorous monitors and the beating only gets faster. She giggles nervously, biting her lip and averting her gaze.
Cassie leans in to whisper, “we’re talking about this later.” Then stands up straight, releases Victoria’s hand and says for the benefit of the room.
“Shes all yours, guys. I think she’s going to be ok.”
She stands in the corner, arms crossed protectively and smile soft as Robby goes through asking SAMPLE, as Victoria insists she just forgot to eat this afternoon, and well ok, if it’s that easy -
Cassie decides she’ll start packing an extra lunch every morning.
(Maybe she could get Victoria to eat more if she took her on some dates, too…but those were thoughts for another day.)
I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your writings. You are modern day Shakespeare. Anyway…..can I request a fic where Dana scolds us like a child for something. kinda like motherly but then she gives us a ride home and then takes us back to her place and “punishes” us then they have passionate sesbian lex. #ilovehotolderwomen
what a compliment omg im blushing ty angel 🥹 i love love love this sm mommy issues meets top!dana, perfect perfect perfect
✮✮✮
working in an emergency department can be overbearing at times. most times really. it's overwhelming, overstimulating, pretty fucking exhausting. mix all of that with a shift exceeding its proposed twelve hours: absolute hell.
so you'd got tired and made a few mistakes, all harmless but utterly inconvenient. an unlabelled blood sample, the unstocked treatment trolley or chart that's still awaiting an update two hours too late. no one's dying, no one's losing their job but fuck, dana's blonde is about to be a full head of grey.
"you're kidding me" you winced at the incoming blow up. "this is the second time i've had to tell you today, what is going on with you kid?"
"sorry, i'm just—ugh" your head slumped against your hand resting on the counter top. "so tired, i keep fucking up"
dana's brows were high on her forehead, eyes widened and a scoff caught in her throat at your admission. "well wake up missy. can't afford to be fuckin up. you're a nurse, not a kid. tired is your life, get used to it or you can forget it"
you respected dana's straight talk when it wasn't aimed at you. on the instances it was, you felt like a child who'd done wrong or a wounded puppy walking away with its tail between its legs. it made you chase her praise even more. like you had to overcompensate just to hear her use a pet name again, squeeze your shoulder or pull you outside on her smoke break just for the company.
"i'm sorry" you said it more sincere this time.
"don't be sorry. just do better" a dagger to the chest.
three hours later you were sat by the bus stop, legs jittering and arms folded to hide away from the cold. a car pulls up at the curb and you quickly recognise it's dana when the passenger window rolls down. she calls a soft get in over the centre console and before you know it, you're being driven home.
it's mostly quiet on the ride and you still feel like you're in trouble, so much so that you don't try any kind of small talk. she doesn't attempt it either, just hums along to the soft tunes of the radio. then she takes an unfamiliar exit and your head follows it when you pass.
"hey, sorry, i'm back that way"
you see her lip twitch. "we're not going to your place"
the car pulls up five minutes later to what you assume is dana's and when the engine goes dead, the silence feels less subtle now. she finds your confusion endearing.
"today's been a day" dana says, breaking the silence with a deep exhale. "and not a good one for you, huh" it wasn't a question.
"dana i'm sorry i—"
"don't" she stopped you. "just come inside"
your hands were unclicking the seatbelt before your brain had caught up, legs walking you through dana's hall, hands shoving off your jacket and bag and within ten minutes of your silent ride, you were sat in the midst of dana's couch cushions.
there was a different essence to her when she joined you. sat close, thighs touching and eyes darkened at the prospect of you in her home.
"dana—"
"ah ah" her fingers came up to hold your chin, silencing you with two syllables. your belly felt hot and tight, something inside you fluttering at her authority. you'd always had a thing for older women and in this moment? you thought dana might have caught on to that. "do you know why i brought you here?"
she pushed a strand of hair from your face when you shook your head.
"you didn't listen today. made a lotta mistakes, wasted a lotta time. my time" her hand loosened on your face, dropping lower to the hollow of your neck, moving the hair out of the way there. "not good enough baby"
you froze at the name. the tension in your thighs visible from the way you'd clenched them together, palms suddenly sweaty and hot. that moment of silence felt like it stretched to hours, dana inches from your face, her hands on you. you felt every nerve ending in your body, turned on to the point of your panties dampening. you wanted her to do something. anything.
thirty minutes later, dana had you spread wide open for her. in her bedroom. on her sheets. wet and wanting, writhing against nothing because the ache was just that insatiable. she was punishing you, she said as much and you wanted her to.
tongue lapping at your skin, your tits, your cunt. fingers plunged deep inside, curling at such an angle to bring you right to the edge but not over it. every time you got remotely close, she'd withdraw and look at you with parted lips and pinched brows, the mock sympathy dripping from her mouth when she cooed and called you a poor baby.
"please, please, please" you chanted, pussy stinging with the aftershock of her slap, and another, and another.
"please what?"
"please let me c-cum" you whined. "i'll do better"
"ohhhh, there it is" she drove two fingers back inside you without warning. "atta girl, that's it"
she fucked you like a reward, fingers never relenting when your thighs trembled and your cunt leaked all down her wrist. your punishment was over, you'd learned your lesson. maybe you'd mess up again if it promised an orgasm as hard as the one dana was about to give you <3
Hiii bb hope you’re doing well . Can you please do where reader has a dumbification kink and she’s too embarrassed to tell Cassie but she eventually does because she gets it out of her . She teases reader about it and it gets freaky from there 🤭. Please and thank you I love your work btw!!
summary: Fem! reader has a kink that involves dumbification and is afraid to tell her girlfriend, Cassie. However, Cassie eventually manages to coax the information out of her.
pairings: Cassie McKay x female reader.
content warnings: discussion of kinks and suggestive details.
note: I apologize for not including any explicit content. However, if you’ve seen one of my recent posts, you’ll understand the reason behind this decision. Tumblr has been behaving weird, so I’m currently only sharing fluff or suggestive content.
You’d rather Cassie discover your hidden journal than the tab you accidentally left open on your laptop. The journal was embarrassing, while the tab was mortifying. You slammed the laptop shut so quickly that you nearly broke the hinge.
Cassie had called from the kitchen, asking, “Is everything okay?”
“Yep!” you exclaimed, your response coming too quickly.
She chuckled to herself, saying, “You sound like you’re being held hostage.”
“I am, by technology,” you told her.
Cassie decided to leave it alone after laughing. However, she had also noticed that you had been acting strangely ever since. Whenever anything remotely flirty happened, you would avoid eye contact. You would change the subject whenever she complimented you. If her hand lingered on your thigh, you would practically short-circuit.
Cassie wasn’t oblivious, so she decided to corner you on the couch three nights later. She sat sideways, one leg tucked beneath her. “Alright,” she began to say.
“What?” you asked innocently, looking up from your book.
“You have that face. The one that says you’re overthinking, as if you’re on the verge of exploding.” She remarked.
“I don’t,” you said defensively, returning to your book. Cassie’s eyebrows arched, and she reached over to grab your hand.
“Please talk to me.” She implored you.
“I can’t.” You sighed and rolled your eyes.
“Why not?” she asked you.
“Because you’ll laugh at me,” you explained.
“I assure you, I won’t,” she replied, squeezing your hand in hers.
You groaned into your free hand, feeling Cassie’s thumb gently brush over your knuckles, causing you to soften slightly.
Cassie, with an earnest expression, assured you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I promise not to judge you.”
You sighed, staring at the coffee table for what felt like an eternity before finally speaking up. “I…” you began, swallowing hard. “Have a kink.” You confessed.
Cassie’s expression remained unchanged. “Okay…”
“And it’s…” you couldn’t physically utter the word. Your mouth refused to cooperate. But she remained patient, waiting for you to find the right words.
You abruptly buried your face into the couch cushion, groaning, “I hate this.”
Cassie cooed, “I know.”
“You promise not to tease me?” you asked, glancing at her.
She assured you, “I promise.”
“I like…” another deep breath. “Being… talked to.” You began to explain.
Cassie’s smile flickered. “Do you enjoy being praised?”
You sighed loudly, “Kind of.” Taking a deep breath, you cleared your throat and said, “But specifically, like acting less smart.” You could feel your ears burning.
Cassie blinked once, then twice. She tilted her head and asked, “Like, a dumbification thing?”
Your entire soul departed your body. “I’m never speaking again,” you declared, standing up to flee. But Cassie swiftly caught your wrists within her hands. She gently pulled you back onto the couch.
You dramatically declared, “I’m moving,” while avoiding her eye contact. Cassie chuckled warmly, not cruelly. “You’re laughing,” you pointed out.
Cassie chuckled, “I couldn’t help but laugh because you looked like you were confessing to murder.” She quickly reminded you, “I said I wasn’t judging.”
“So…” you hummed, glancing sideways at her.
“So, you enjoy pretending not to think?” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “You relish being told that your little brain doesn’t have to work so hard.” She cooed. Your breath caught instantly, and Cassie noticed. “Oh,” she mumbled. A slow smile spread across her face.
You covered your face with your hands, squealing in embarrassment as the heat rose to your cheeks. “Don’t start,” you warned her.
“I haven’t even begun…” she whispered, leaning in closer to you.
contains - mel having a praise and biting kink whilst be a service top, blood play-ish?, reader getting strapped ( like always), plot leading to smut, reader fluttering mel even when they aren't doing anything, mel is described to have back muscles, reader is referred to as 'mels girlfriend' by Becca, there's slight making out, also reader acts like mels strap is the real deal, reader may seem like the dom but its actaullymel here(and I think thats it?)
a/n - service top mel will always have a special place in my heart
request - #1 and #2
tags - @soobshi @hashimizam
The way you found out that Mel had a praise kink was actually at work, not in the bedroom surprisingly. You both had just got finished with a patient, with her doing most of the work and you assisting her.
Mel took off her medical gown and tossed it into the bin along with her gloves and mask, before walking out into the hallway to do charting, though she was halted to a stop by a hand on her shoulder as well as a shout of her name.
"Mel..!"
When she glanced back, she was met with the sight of you standing there with a slight smile on your face, which seemed to bring more curiosity to her, which also made her start questioning things.
"Yeah? Whats up? Do you need anything? Well, you probably do because if you didn't, you wouldn't be standing here, un- unless well—"
"Baby.." You cut her off mid rambling, watching as her eyes drifted to you again. Her gaze had a habit of looking around, mainly up though as if she was trying to see her thoughts.
"I don't need anything, I just wanted to tell you how well you did in there, or in general. I mean, you do so good under pressure, it amazes me, you know?"
By the time you got done talking, you finally noticed the redness tinting the tip of her ears and face, even trailing lightly down her neck, though it wasn't much long before she started to stammer out a response.
"Well– I couldn't have done it without you, you know? Why– why would I take all the credit when you were right there to assist me?– I mean, you did amazing too and—"
Dana's voice cut through her rambling, pulling both of your attention to her whilst she stared at the both of you with her glasses low on her nose and her clipboard resting on the front of her stomach.
"Mel, you're doin' it again, kid. Why don' you go finish your charting and talk to her later, yeah?"
"Ye– yeah, I can do that– I'll see you later, I love you.." She murmured quickly, before hurrying over to one of the charting computers, to do as the charge nurse said.
"Okay, baby.. I love you too, see you after our shift.." You replied back, watching her go with a knowing smirk, already deciding to store that information away to use for your advantage later.
And from there on out, you teased her about it relentlessly. Oh she did something you asked without questioning it? 'Good girl'. Oh she helped you lift something? 'Good job, baby, you're sooo strong'. Oh she helped you with charting today? 'Thank you, baby, you're so smart'.
Though, unfortunately for you, everyone has a breaking point, even you're insanely patient girlfriend, whom you've never seen lose her cool, besides in the bedroom, but thats another story for a different time—anyways, it seems everytime you teased her, she gets more horny and flustered and it doesn't help you both are at work, seemingly making today her breaking point.
And yes, you've noticed that, but you decided to push your luck one more time before both of your shifts end so you strolled your happy ass over to where she was standing and talking to someone and cleared your throat, getting both of their attention.
"Can I borrow her for a second?" You asked the other person, not even waiting for a reply before you pulled Mel away with a hand on her bicep—if you both weren't around anyone, you probably would've pulled her away by the waistband or string of her pants.
"Mel, is it alright if I stay at your place tonight? I dont feel like driving home.." You asked, looking up at her with a faux pout and a slight tilt of your head, knowing she couldn't resist that look, even if she tried her hardest.
"Uh yeah, I dont mind but Becca—" She was cut off by your wrapping your arms around her neck to pull her into a hug, before pulling back to lightly peck her lips with a bright smile, not letting her finish because you knew what she was gonna say: 'but Becca might be home'.
"Thank you, baby, you're so good for me.. ill see you after our shift, alright?" You murmured, before you unlooped your arms from around her and begin to walk off with a knowing smirk on your face, knowing she was atleast a little flustered especially with the way you worded it.
After that, you went through the rest of your shift perfectly fine, like you hadn't been teasing her, but her on the other hand? She had a 'girl boner' the whole rest of her shift, always throwing looks your way, only to not be met with the same thing.
Eventually your shift had ended, along with hers and the nightshift was slowly crawling their way in(get it? Night crawlers?) you both passing some whilst you existed the building and headed to her car.
Once you both had gotten in and settled, she begin driving, the silence and tension was almost suffocating in the walls of this vehicle. If you hadn't been teasing her all damn day, you probably would've thought she was mad at you instead of horny.
It seemed the drive had been very short, but to her, it felt as hough it had been years until she parked in front of the apartment building. The second the vehicle stopped, she was quick to get out and grab your bag—which you both shared and is also another reason why she didn't think taking her own bag was necessary.
Fortunately for you, you both managed to get out of the car and up the stairs, somehow unlocking the door before she was on you; her lips attacking your own in desperate motions whilst she backed you into the dark apartment, the tv being the only source of light.
Sure it surprised you at first, but you were quick to respond by wrapping your arms around her neck and allowing her to move you backwards whilst parting your lips to deepen the kiss.
Though after you both shut the door and beging making your way up the stairs, you both pulled apart rather quickly after hearing Becca's voice call out to you both, over the intro of elf playing in the background.
"Mel?"
"Yeah, Becca?" Mel called back, trying not to sound breathless, but it wasn't really working in her favor as it still sounded like she ran a mile rather than was making out with her girlfriend.
A moment of silence filled the three of you, before Becca spoke up again, but this time talking to you instead of her sister.
"Mel's girlfriend?"
"Yes?" You said back, peering your head around the corner from where you stood on the stairs to look at her frame, which was swallowed by a blanket, an elf one that you had gotten her for her birthday a few months prior.
"Oh, I was just making sure it you guys. Also, my boyfriend..!" Just at the mention of him, she seemed to beem at his name, clearly grinning from what you can see—huh just like her sister. "Had dropped me off with some extras, its in the fridge though, because I didn't know where else to put it as I wasn't quiet sure when you both got off!"
"Okay, tell him 'thank you'."
"Okay, thank you."
You and Mel both said unison, causing you to look back at her, only to find she was already look at you with that slight eyebrow raise the wouldn't even be considered one if you didn't closer, you copied her expression back to her with a teasing glint in your eyes.
For a moment you two to stare at the other and making odd movements with your eyebrows—except she was doing it in more of a questioning way and you were doing it more in a mocking way before you eventually turned your attention back to Becca.
"Will do! Anyways, goodnight guys!"
You both said it back, before Mel begin tugging you upstairs by using your hand, rather quickly getting to the top within a few strides.
By the time you got into her bedroom, you were already half naked, clothes tossed somewhere—probably by her renaissance dresses in the corner and mouth hot against her own whilst you slowly undressed her.
Though, you didn't even get her shirt all the way off before she suddenly got a random burst of dominance and was scooping you up with her arms under your thighs and tossing you onto the soft bedding and comforter, which made a giggle leave from between your lips, before you made your way up onto the pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows
Once Mel made sure you made it safely onto the bed, she begin undressing herself the rest of the way as you watched with a smirk, eyes roaming over her more lean figure, trailing from her black sports bra to the light plaid boxers, the one of the many pairs you had bought her—which most definitely has her name written in sharpie on the back tag.
But who were you to judge, especially your girlfriend and with the way they sit lowly on her hips, you couldn't resist sliding your hands from her shoulders to the qaistband, before slipping the tips of your fingers beneath it and allowing them to feel around.
"Gosh, baby, look at— oh?" You questioned, slowly looking up at her with a smirk upon feeling the familiar buckles resting right underneath both her hip bones, which was hidden really well, especially since you didn't feel it while you were kissing her.
"Let's get these off of you, yeah? See how hard you actually are 'f me?" You questioned despite already sliding your hands fully under the fabric and wiggly them down slowly but surely whilst leaning up to peck at her lips.
At your words, she couldn't help but groan as her hips subtly bucked against your fingers like she can actaully feel your hands brushing against it as you finally got it down to about her knees, causing the toy to flop heavily out and hit against your inner thigh.
"Oh would you look at that.. so hard just from a tinsy bit of kissing," You mockingly stated whilst lightly stroking at it, like you weren't dripping onto the fabric of your panties, which was making the dark damp patch progressively bigger though wasn't very apparent in the pitch black room.
"I am.." She quietly murmured, unconsciously pushing her glasses up her slowly becoming-red-face as she stared at you with those eyes she didn't even know she was giving you.
"Oh it that right? Guess I shouldn't make you wait any longer, hm?"
And waiting she did not do because it seemed as soon you said those words, she was trying to get her boxers off the rest of the way, until they piled on the floor along with the other pieces of fabric.
Once they were off, you reached between your legs and grabbed at the strap on, only for your hand to be batted away by Mel, causing you to glance up at her in confusion as she seemed so eager just a moment ago.
"I want to put it in myself.." She whispered, not meeting your gaze, clearly flustered and only getting redder as her gaze darted up momentarily, only to be met with a smirking you, causing her gaze to go back down between your legs.
"You want to what? I didn't hear you baby.."
"I want to put it in myself.." She replied a slight bit louder, which made you hear her, but you wanted her to actually say it with her full chest.
"One more time f'me?"
"I said I want to put it in myself!" She said, her voice raising, which made your smirk get even wider like a chadsire cat, almost all your teeth showing now.
"Okay, that's what I thought you said, but I just wanted to make sure, you know? But anyways, you can put it in yourself like you wanted." You finally relented, watching as her shoulders visibly dropped in almost relief before she scooted closer, still on her knees whilst she grabbed the base of the rubber dick.
Once she was wedged between your thighs, she lightly begin to run the tip along your clothed covered pussy, which made your hips buck up instinctively, but she didn't give you much relief, other than nudging your ruined panties to the side just enough to have access to your wetness.
She rubbed it up and down a few more times, before finally letting it nudge your entrance, causing her to look up at your face to make sure she can proceed, to which you gave a nod, silently telling her it was alright so she simply just hummed as she slowly begin pushing in.
The sting made you gasp lightly, though it was masked by Mel's groan whilst she bottomed out inside you, allowing you to get used to the feeling before she begin to move her hips slowly, her thumb holding the fabric of your panties so it wouldn't get in the way.
"Mhm, just like that, baby.." You breathless murmur, attempting to keep your gaze on her face despite her slow yet deep thrust, that seemingly were progressively gaining moee speed the more she passed through, which sounded like they were affecting her more than they were you due to her soft moans and whines.
Eventually, her thrust got so desperate, she decided to get a better angle by bending your knees up to your chest, holding the back of your thighs as she picked up her speed.
The change in position caused the bed rocking more violently against the wall behind you, which you muffled by wrapping your hands around the bed frame as her breath got more rigid, needier whines escaping in the same breaths—like she can actually feel it alongside of yours.
Her being loud wouldn't have been a big deal, though it was because you suddenly remembered Becca was home, but you didn't want to ruin the mood and tell her to quiet down, you instead took one of your off the bed frame and brought it towards her face, lightly caressing at her cheek before lightly parting her lips with your thumb whilst she watched you through her fogged glasses.
You placed your thumb on her tongue and watched as she sucked almost eagerly, biting down here and there, though you watching her was interrupted by her speeding up underwear along with her hitting a deeper spot due to the position, causing your finger to press harder into the wet muscle whilst the other four clenched at her jaw the other hand doing the same to the wooden frame above you.
"Mmggg, yes—just like that, baby.." You softly whimpered, head going back against the pillow as your face scrunch up in pleasure along with pain whilst Mel bit into your finger like she was trying to be quiet now while speeding up her thrust even further—if that was even possible.
The sight of your eyes rolling back in pleasure could almost make Mel come right then and there, because knowing she was pleasuring you just how you like pleased her in a way that she could literally come undone without any actual stimulation.
Soft 'plaps' echoed off the walls as your wetness begin to get almost stringy, causing her hips to stick to both your ass and most of your thighs due to the mating oress she had your legs in as her thumb continued to hold the now soaked fabric of your undewear.
You lifted your head off your pillow, lips biting at your bottom lip as you glanced at the mess between your legs, the sight making you clench around her strap as you took your other hand off the bed post and gently moved the fabric of your panties to the side, fingers also lightly spreading your flushed folds to get a better look at her fucking you
"Oh Melly, baby—look at what you're doing to me—" You quietly whined, throwing your head back against the pillows, still holding onto the fabric to make it easier for her whilst your other pinched at her skin and tongue—not really, you were just gripping at them tighter.
At your words, she did as you said and looked down, almost moaning at the sight, which caused her to bite down harder around your finger and move her hips faster, making you whimper at the pain.
"Mmhnf— you fuck me– me so good baby— gosh!— I think, I think im gonna cum!"
She whined in agreement whilst ndoding her head, her teeth digging further into your skin, drawing blood and causing a metallic taste to fill her mouth, the pain finally pushing you over the edge, causing a hazy yet clear liquid to squirt all over the bed sheets and strap.
That what was finally set her over the edge, her breath hitching around your finger as she bite down even harder, her body lightly shuddering before she practically collapsed onto your chest.
You both laid in silence, catching your breath and taking in everything that ahd just happened, before you suddenly broke the quietness with a teasing comment
"You need to be more quiet, maybe next time I'll learn a different way to silence you.."
a/n² - im sorry guys, I kinda got lazy towards the end because I didn't know how to word things, anyways do yall also eat your pound cakes by cutting perfect circles out, eating then then the actual whole pound cake?
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ summary: you're moving to pittsburgh to work at a new tattoo & body piercing shop, only you still need to find a place to stay. thankfully, an old friend can hook you up with a coworker who recently had an extra room open up.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tags: SMUT, masturbation (MELLY!!), bonus chapter bc i have love and light in my heart, cursing, potential inaccuracies with the medical + piercing professions i'm doing my best, KISSING, this is my horniest and lovey-dovey-est chapter yet, snuggling, sleepy mel <3, glimpse into my take on high school mel, local hot lez scared of but indulging in her feelings for her virgin friend, HORNY/YEARNING MEL, omg feelings, gayyyyyy, MY EVIL LIL GAY FLY HANDS ARE RUBBING, reader is prob nd too.
Mel stretched beside you, rolling over and huffing when she'd hit a low point in the series she was reading. She shut the case of your e-reader for now, putting it down on the nearest bedside table. Looking for something to do, she took out her phone, but hardly even looked at it. She had some energy to spend, she could feel it, and yet nothing was really doing it for her. Sure, that was when she should probably be getting up to walk around anyway, but that wasn't really what she wanted.
She finally found something of interest, opening a collage app she had, finding where she'd left off with the seventeenth-century fashion inspiration, but that didn't hold her attention for very long, either. Mel folded her arms while she laid on her tummy and set her head on top of them. Her focus jumped around to different parts of your face, dark eyelashes fluttering with the movement.
Was kissing something Mel had to prompt now, or were you the one not following through? She didn’t know. She'd never done any of this stuff before and was too embarrassed to ask. All she knew was you’d kissed her… then again… and again. Then it was like you two left the hood of your car, and the option to keep doing that disappeared. Was it a one-time thing? Was it just to shut her up, or maybe a fake-twenty-first birthday gift? No, it couldn’t be your gift because you’d already explicitly broken the no-present rule when you two got back to the apartment.
Who knew, though, because she’s realized by now that you liked to plan a lot, often done (lovingly) behind her back. All the way back in June, you’d asked if she had any plans once she'd gotten home the day of her vacation request being denied. She had no idea when to use it if not the first week of July and was ready to leave it to be randomly assigned, but you were already plotting something.
“If I suggest a week, do you promise not to look into it?” you’d asked, and she hesitantly allowed you to claim whatever set of dates for her. Once you started talking about a twenty-first do-over, she thought the week you'd chosen would be for that, but it wasn't.
And while she still wished that the July 4th shift had never even happened, it was at least a little worth it when you both returned from that weird but perfect makeup party and you'd put the envelope of Ren Faire tickets into her hands. For her sake, you even playfully hid from her reaction behind your hands when she opened it.
Mel left the collaging app to find the website again. Pittsburgh Ren Fest: Wine Revelry and Romance, she read silently on her screen. September 19th and 20th.
She hummed to herself, mindlessly chewing at her lower lip while she continued to read the details, purposely squirming over towards you so her side was pressed against yours.
You jumped slightly since you’d been so focused on the horror film she was avoiding on your TV screen, but your expression smoothed over with a little smile when you looked at her.
"Are you excited about the Faire?” you asked, and she nodded with a genuinely happy hum, still reading whatever details she’d pulled up on her screen.
You glanced at her screen too, surprised that Mel stayed where she was, considering the heat building between your bodies the longer she remained pressed to your side. It was way too hot out for this, but ever since you kissed her, she’d turned into a little magnet stuck to your side. Even with the AC running, it felt like wherever her bare skin met yours was searing.
For someone with a relatively small frame and plenty of space on your bed, Mel liked to station herself right beside you like it was the middle of winter and you were all she had to stay warm. Instead of acting like it was the middle of August… which it was. And despite all her strong feelings against most sensory experiences that involved uncomfortable temperatures and too much contact, she was certainly comfortable right now. You’d grown used to her doing it in her sleep, but this was new.
You wanted to squirm your way onto your side, but—respectfully—she tangled up with you like an invasive vine.
“Mel,” you groaned out through a laugh when you’d barely moved in an attempt to reach behind yourself for your phone on your bedside table, and she took it as an opportunity to be even closer. She dipped under your outstretched arm, casually placing her chin on your chest high up by your shoulder and her arm on your stomach to keep looking at her phone.
“Hm…?” She hummed distantly, scrolling through pictures of Ren Faire costumes again.
“It’s 94 degrees out today,” you whispered, showing the weather app pulled up on your phone screen. “And air conditioning is great, but it only goes so far—”
She tilted her head at that, blushing when your reasoning for telling her that dawned on her.
“Right… sorry,” she murmured, sparing a taut smile, before separating from you.
You couldn’t tell if she’d been looking into how dejected girlfriends were supposed to act—still not your girlfriend yet—or if this was another example of Mel not knowing exactly where her body landed in a space. Either way, she’d moved over to the complete opposite side of the bed, right by the edge of it.
You huffed a laugh, deciding it must’ve been the second possibility when she looked at you, her expression open and wondering.
“You don’t have to be that far,” you explained with a light giggle.
“‘S okay.” She shook her head with a little smile, cringing when she’d accidentally glanced at your TV. You knew the horror film was why she’d rolled over to face the other direction, but it still felt a bit like a pouty guilt trip.
You sighed silently through your nose, and tilted your head, taking a moment to look at her. She was wearing one of the shop’s oversized merch tees and a pair of sleep shorts, your gaze shamelessly following the dip and curve of her side. Then continued down to her legs, which she occasionally considered shaving when the texture hit her the wrong way but never did because shaving sounded worse. Mel shifted again to get more comfortable, cricketing her legs slightly before settling with them bent up higher, curled closer to her upper body.
She jumped then, nearly dropping her phone when you’d suddenly gathered the excess fabric of her shirt to pull her back. This particular choice for dragging her back to your side of the bed caused the front of her top to ride up. Mel let out a squeak-yelp kind of sound, quickly pressing her forearms over her chest to keep the material from creeping up any higher.
“What are you—? I’m trying to respect your space,” she said honestly, attempting to look at you when you decided to circle an arm around her waist to move her the rest of the way.
She just wanted to read and look at some damn costumes. She thought you wanted space? So, fine, she could respect that and find something to entertain herself with. But now you were pulling her across the bed, confusing her and getting some of that grouchy side you admittedly loved.
"I don't—" she started in a huff, jerking away to fix the way the shirt lay on her body since the bunching was starting to grate at her.
Before she could say anything else, though, you were pressing at her hip to encourage her to lie on her back. When she yielded, too focused on what she wanted to say, she was cut off yet again, this time from you finally kissing her for the first time in days.
It was slow and sweet and apologetic and really distracting. It made her heart flutter, and she let her hold on her phone loosen enough for it to drop from her palm and onto the bed. But what should she do with her hands again…? Where was she supposed to put them?
She hesitated, going to move them, then second-guessing. After she'd started and stopped a few more times, one of your hands found hers and set it on the back of your neck, which she followed up with the other before you could guide it next. Mel tangled her hands in your hair after, lightly tugging at you to be closer.
You never said anything, but you'd been beating yourself up over kissing her the way you had. You worried she was too emotional, that you should've found a better time for it when she was a little more level-headed, or maybe you should’ve talked about it first? You never discussed kissing with other women; you just did it, but Mel was different. You didn't want to overwhelm her.
Now here you were, yet again with your mouth on hers. No discussion or any real forethought. Just the knowledge that you'd already kissed her, she seemed a bit snubbed—which was not your intention—and you wanted to kiss her again. You'd been trying to have some personal space, yes, but it was also about trying to control yourself. Clearly that was working out for you.
That warm, buzzing feeling returned to the pit of Mel's stomach, a breath ghosting from her lips when you’d pulled away long enough to adjust your position. You moved further on top of her, leaning forward to have your forehead touching hers while you nudged her legs apart to settle between them. She let them fall open, only remembering to quit hyperextending them when she started to feel the ache in her hips.
Your hands felt chilly from the air conditioning, pulling a shiver from her when they sought out her sides under her shirt, but it wasn’t enough for her to want you to stop. You squeezed at the dips of her waist, feeling the squish of her belly against your hands, and smirking into the kiss when you'd tested pressing a hand directly on her tummy which she pushed up into. Separating from the kiss, you'd only parted from her enough to be sure she was still comfortable despite the slight teasing.
She looked up at you for hardly a second, her eyes going to your lips, waiting for them to find hers again and warm them with more kisses. In response, you cruelly leaned in enough to brush your lips against hers only to pull back. You did it a second time to make her chase after you, your quiet laugh muffled against her lips after you'd caught her scowling up at you.
"So impatient, Mel," you'd teased in a whisper, your amusement expressed so faintly in the curve of your lips with your mouth brushing hers again. Your lips parted slowly, feeling her follow your movements to kiss you back, and her knees squeezed at your hips when you'd brushed your tongue against hers.
You leaned over her more, settling further in your spot between her legs. You’d pleasantly surprised her with a light tug at her lip with your teeth. She nearly smashed her face into yours when she went up for you right after you'd let go of her bottom lip, already in the process of bringing your mouth back to hers. It made the kiss land a bit harder than intended, but you really didn't care; you simply adjusted and felt her mindlessly push her hips out toward you more.
You pressed your hips down in return to pin hers, getting a soft gasp from her that you wished you'd been recording so you could play it over and over in private.
The pressure excited her, angling her hips so the weight you'd applied fit just right. In return, your hands found the bends of both her knees so you could tug her down from the pillows to have her completely flat on the bed.
You’d just laid back on top of her when you both heard the buzzing on your pillow. You slowly peeled away from the kiss, raising your attention to the phone there, sighing to yourself when you realized it wasn't a number you could ignore.
Mel let out a little sound of disbelief caught between a pleading noise and a frustrated huff.
She tugged on your shirt to get back the attention that had gone to your phone. You held up a finger along with a soft murmur to give you one second before you set that hand back down on top of her stomach, lightly this time.
“Hey,” you answered the call from Quinn, feeling Mel holding onto that hand with both of hers, but you kept your focus on the words Mel could just barely hear in the form of Charlie Brown adult mumbling.
You sighed over whatever had been said, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder so you could rub your forehead.
“Shit… I’m sorry, I’ll be right there.”
“What?” Mel meant to ask, but it came out more like a questioning hum once you started separating from her. Didn’t you know she was starting to get the hang of this stuff? Why did you have to stop now?
“I have to be at the shop today for walk-ins. I forgot,” you explained after, getting out of the bed.
Mel frowned to herself when you left the bedroom, twisting her hands and hoping that feeling would go away. Then you walked in to lean over her and give her one more kiss, bouncing the mattress with the energy you put into setting your hands down and then suddenly pulling away again.
Mel’s expression went from miserable grumpiness to something lighter, smiling so much to herself that her cheeks hurt. Still, when you had to leave, her mood plummeted again, and she was abandoned with that warm feeling low in her belly. She knew the sensation. She'd been growing rather familiar with it thanks to you, but she didn't really like it. It was only exciting up until it lingered for too long.
Finally, with a bitter sigh, she paused that creepy movie you forgot to stop and got up to go watch TV in her room.
Distractions. That was all she needed. She knew what would help once she'd been able to identify the feeling she kept experiencing lately—she wasn't that naive—but that didn't necessarily mean she wanted to do it.
She'd tried before, and it was a disaster. Yes, now she knew her anatomy better and actually had some arousal to work with, but it was hard to think of...taking...care of herself...without it being a reminder of the one time she'd tried as a teenager.
She'd read about it after having spent half of sex education raising her hand with questions and corrections until the unqualified ass at the front of the room stopped calling on her. Some students snickered under their breath from her participation putting a spotlight on his inadequacy. Some—mostly stupid boys—snorted over any questions she had that were perfectly appropriate for the subject but they were too childish to hear. And some of the girls near her spoke in hushed tones that she'd recognized to mean she wouldn't want to know what they were saying anyway, unless she felt like having her feelings hurt.
Fine, she'd thought. She'd continue educating herself if the sex ed teacher wouldn't do his job. The rest of them could go on to get pregnant early or end up feverish at the ER, waiting for their first dose of doxycycline, azithromycin, or levofloxacin—depending on the particular needs of that person's body. Maybe it was mean to think that, but still.
The only comments she'd overheard which successfully hurt her feelings were ones regarding how she'd felt the need to ask certain questions in the first place. How did she not know already? Was she really that inexperienced? And other...related commentary that would upset most teenagers. Now the memory liked to jump out at her at random just to make her full body cringe, causing her to shake her hands like it had been some creepy-crawly thing she'd needed off of her.
Naturally, she'd assigned her own secret homework, waiting for a moment she could actually be alone in her bedroom. She spent it watching a video she didn't even like while trying something she didn't like that much either until she was so overstimulated she shot out of bed to go wash her hands. It was supposed to be some mind-blowing first experimentation with her body, and instead she ended the evening crying in her room after reading about the porn industry, lying to her mom and saying she was upset over one of those ASPCA commercials. Then she really was crying over that too because talking about it reminded her of the last one she'd seen.
So, Mel had formed an aversion to even bothering with self-pleasure. Or more so, the urge failed to occur when there wasn't anything to motivate it, whether it was peer pressure or actual arousal.
That experimental phase had started and ended very rapidly.
If she really thought about it, maybe there had been hints of that desire depending on what stage she was at in her cycle, but it was never enough to really form a "need." Now, however...
Mel sighed to herself, seeking comfort from the movie on her laptop she had propped on top of an old textbook. She pulled her hand away from her mouth, forcing away her bad habit of biting at her nails once she realized she was doing it again. Despite being her go-to... But I'm a Cheerleader may have been a poor choice on her part if she wanted to deprive that feeling in her gut of any fuel.
It only bloomed further as she gnawed at her lip, watching the scene of Megan fantasizing about kissing Graham. Mel's brow dipped into a frown, and she exhaled sharply. Her eyes darted over every detail, her cheeks growing warm when she couldn't help thinking of you. Her expression bunched up with frustration, and she let out another sigh, reaching over to rewind the movie as if she could force a different perspective and rewatch that scene like it was exposure therapy.
The human body truly was an amazing thing. She knew the evolutionary purpose for hormones suppressing her ability to think logically, but she still disliked the lack of control.
She let her attention drift on purpose, focusing on how comfortable her bed actually felt after months of always choosing yours first. Mewling miserably, Mel curled in towards her mattress, burying her face in her pillow. She hugged the cushion, transferring her attention from the movie to self-soothing, cricketing her legs again. A gentle, innocent contentment—that was what she needed. She just had to let herself relax and enjoy being cozy in the airy fluff of her comforter. Mel adjusted the angle of her body to melt further into her bed. When she rubbed her legs together again she felt something she hadn't been intending, at least not actively.
Her eyes opened lazily and she squeezed her legs together as tightly as possible, fluttering her eyes shut over the pleasant pulse she felt between her thighs. She tested the friction again, hiding her face in her pillow with a pathetic whine when she realized she’d lost whatever angle had sparked that feeling.
Her heart raced as if she’d get caught at any second, but she continued anyway. Mel pressed into the pillow, raising her hips up off of the mattress enough for her to slide a hand down between her legs. She felt the urge to glance at the door several times, nearly losing her nerve to the side of her that was quick to avoid anything potentially uncomfortable. Then, she rolled her fingertips just right, and Mel hid her face again with a weak noise.
She thought about kissing you and being close to you and what it would be like to have you touching her instead, and that buzzing feeling grew stronger in her pelvic floor. Mel whined, shifting her hips a few times to rock against her own fingertips that she kept circling at the same time. That sensation built and flatlined several times until she could've cried when it stopped building altogether. She'd never wanted this so badly before, or at all, but she’d adapted quickly and she was easily becoming desperate for that warm, tightening feeling in her belly. She felt like she needed it after unintentionally edging herself—was this what everyone else felt? And often? God, that sounded awful. This was a lot of work.
Mel raised her body up more, gathering her blankets between her legs for added compression, splaying enough in her kneeling position to rut on her bed. She squeezed her eyes shut, tensing her abdominal muscles to aid her need for pressure and finally letting out a breath she'd nearly forgotten about. The warmth tinting her cheeks like a pink wash of watercolor was spreading throughout her body, to the point that the back of her neck and her ears felt hot. She was sweating—she didn't even care, either; she just needed that release she'd never had, and it kept evading her like it was taunting her for being uninterested all these years.
"Please," she begged her body through a miserable whine, sinking into the bedding again.
Mel laid onto her stomach, gasping. Her hair was a mess, half falling out of the lazy braid she'd put it in for her day off, and her glasses were... somewhere. They'd been shoved up onto the crown of her head earlier when she'd been hiding her face the first time, only to slide down when she was grinding on her own bunched-up comforter. Out of sight, they were currently clinging to some strands of her hair by one of the hinges.
She'd found a good rhythm, and her forearm burned from the effort, but she didn't care. She was overheated and the hair between her legs scratched slightly at her arm, but she was so needy and so, so, so close…
Finally, something snapped inside her, and the only thing keeping her quiet was her pillow. A full-body shiver dragged through her, lingering in her thighs that kept trembling or twitching. The warmth that had hit a peak low in her gut spread out over her body in a warm wave. From oxytocin or dopamine or whatever… Whatever. Fuck, she'd never cared less about pinpointing the right terms. She couldn’t even think right now. She could only bury her face in her pillow with a shaky breath and feel the way her heart pounded or how her underwear clung to her.
Still, she felt maybe she didn’t get it quite right, and she kicked off her pajama shorts that had been twisting around too much anyway. Mel viewed her body differently for the first time since, well… ever, really. She looked down at herself, brushing the excess fabric of her oversized t-shirt out of the way, and saw a faint damp spot in the center of her cotton underwear. She felt a little embarrassed by her curiosity, but there was also a very specific, shy pride over this particular milestone.
Her satisfaction was only really disrupted by the way her underwear was sticking to her; the dampness catching the fabric in a way that made it look like her body was sucking it in. So, she decided to lose that article of clothing too, separating it from where any of the wet cotton clung to her folds and she tossed it off to the side on her bed. Mel briefly indulged her curiosity again to see how wet she was, and her bashfulness returned as if she hadn’t been in the privacy of her own room, but it hadn't been enough to stifle this rare craving. Distantly, the movie continued playing, but she'd hidden under her blankets and tested that sensation again without clothing in the way.
Mel let out a breath, the muscles of her thighs seizing up then relaxing again. Another new sound escaped her from the first, direct brush of nerves. Oh, she’d never been happier to know anatomy than right now, when she was twisting in her spot, sliding her fingers over different pleasure points, whimpering and panting, then eventually choking back her moans when they fell from her lips. She hid them in the light green-cased pillow again, slowly growing lax on the mattress when she could feel the bit of warm arousal slowly dripping from her pussy onto the sheets.
Mel let out the kind of sigh that seemed to ease every bit of tension she held in her body and stayed there for a while like some living, breathing puddle of a person in her bed.
ʚɞ
"Mel?" you called out when you walked into the apartment. Considering your unexpected departure earlier, you tried to call her for the drive home, but she never picked up.
“Dr. King? Blondie? Mel-Belle? BabyMel Cheese? The Keeper of Knowledge? Squish-Mellow?”
She didn't answer now either, even as you rattled off every nickname you could think of during the time it took to set your bag aside and take off your shoes. You were starting to worry you were about to experience what it was like to have Mel mad at you.
“Pebble…?” you tried the most recent one, which was your own secret reference to her definitely autism pebbling you all the time with her fun facts. Even if she didn’t seem to recognize the trait, but then again she didn’t recognize any of them when it came to herself.
You were saying her actual name again when you'd reached your doorway and trailed off with a smile. She was all splayed out in your bed, half awake and watching something random on your TV.
"Did you have a lazy day without me?" you whispered with playful betrayal. She grunted a wordless hum, and you laughed.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" you asked now, squatting by the bed so you could see her face when you moved her hair out of her face.
"Mm-mm," she reassured you with the weakest shake of her head.
"You feeling okay, though...?" you murmured, resting the back of your hand against her flushed cheeks.
"Mhm," Mel yawned. "Just sleepy..."
"Mkay..." you smiled fondly at her, only pulling away to change out of your day clothes and into some pjs.
You climbed back into bed and on top of her, kneeling on either side of her while she remained laid out on her stomach. Your hair splayed when you leaned over her to press a kiss to her cheek, breathing out a laugh at her squirming and giggling from you tickling her sides.
"Ugh,” you huffed, pausing to enjoy her proximity, hiding your face in her hair.
“I missed you today," you confessed in a sigh, smoothing her hair off to one side again and very lightly bit at her jawline.
Tugging her shirt out of the way to blow a raspberry against her shoulder, you smiled against her skin when it earned you some giggles.
“I missed you too.”
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ the photos and gif used in this post do not belong to me.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ summary: you're moving to pittsburgh to work at a new tattoo & body piercing shop, only you still need to find a place to stay. thankfully, an old friend can hook you up with a coworker who recently had an extra room open up.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ tags: cursing, potential inaccuracies with the medical + piercing professions i'm doing my best, ear piercing process!, a lot of confusion for our poor melly :(, KISSING, alcohol mentioned, very brief mention of mel+becca’s mom dying, whitaker why are you here, snuggling, mel’s got a case of the baby gay hyperfixations, mel has nerd friends :’), local hot lez scared of her feelings for her virgin friend, YEARNING MEL, omg feelings, gayyyyyy, MY EVIL LIL GAY FLY HANDS ARE RUBBING, reader is prob nd too, eventual smut bc duh.
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ notes: ok this is minor, but i have to clarify that ik mel wouldn't mix metals. her horseshoes are gold so her second ear piercings would have that color too... the picture i used for this chapter is for vibe-matching ONLY ok ty
While you'd given Trinity a hard time for attempting to influence Mel, you hadn’t truly expected a change. First of all, you hadn’t expected Mel to put But I’m a Cheerleader on every free second of the day, so you're stuck with that recent development. And now there was a shift in Mel, or something at least. Something had changed. Maybe it was in your head. You only really felt it to a noticeable degree when the two of you were alone, but you could swear there was a difference.
It felt far warmer, bordering on overwhelming, to have her beside you in bed. Was she staying closer than usual? Or was it just late summer weather creeping into the apartment despite the air conditioning? Again, maybe it was all in your head, but even Mel’s facts had a shift in interest, which only felt obvious to you. Suddenly her fun facts had leaned into statistics and studies relating to queer patients, communities, or healthcare workers.
Oh, and of course, the first time she had started dropping her "fun" facts about “sexuality minority women" and the concerns regarding honesty with physicians, or simply not going to one at all, you had just woken up. All you wanted was something simple to eat that wouldn't have you staring off into space trying to find the inner drive to literally feed yourself, and she was at the table going over things that you were more than aware of even if you didn't spend your time reading about it on the NIH website.
Yet again, it was early, and you'd woken up to find her already awake and bouncing her attention between the fantasy series she'd been reading on your e-reader and articles on her phone.
"Good morning," one might say, or "How did you sleep last night?"
Mel noticed your stirring and began to ask you in a hushed, pillow-talk-like voice if you knew about "the impact it can have on gynecological health if a patient is not completely honest about their sex life." This "apparently" affects those "sexuality minority women" more than others due to discrimination fears, which you knew, but you simply nod your head and cover a yawn with the back of your hand. She'd gotten into this topic the other day too, but it was her birthday, so you supposed you could deal with the reiteration of whatever informational script she’d formed.
Well, not her real birthday. Today was her half-birthday that you'd hijacked for temporary legitimacy in the name of giving her a “makeup twenty-first birthday.”
"What did you do for your twenty-first?" you had asked her when she had approved leaving "21. 21st birthday experience" on the final draft of her bucket list.
"Um... I don't really remember," Mel had shrugged, which would usually trigger some dumb joke about that meaning she must've had a good time, but you highly doubted she'd gotten blackout drunk.
"That year is kind of a blur for me... my mom died around then so..."
She had pressed her lips together and gave an awkward nod while her gaze trailed down to the table, as if practiced. Like she had an internal post-it that had been slapped onto her brain at some point saying, "This is what talking about dead parents should look like," and she did her best to replicate it.
Needless to say, Mel deserved a proper do-over for that birthday. You knew she didn't drink, and her birthday was over the winter, but it didn’t matter. Whether it was really her twenty-first, really on her birthday or not, it was actually about wanting to make her feel special.
When you’d first considered what to do for her, you thought a surprise party could be exciting... but then you got to know her more. So, she knew just about everything that was happening outside of a literal agenda she probably would’ve made.
“What are we doing today?” she asked suddenly, right on time to double-check the day's schedule. She had her head propped on her hand while she lay on her side, looking at you.
“Whatever you want,” you smiled, reaching over to brush some of her hair back over her shoulder.
She hummed happily at that until the grateful little curve to her lips faltered when you didn’t continue.
“…No, but really, what’s the plan…?”
“Well, remember we can always do nothing if you’re not up for it—” you started, pausing at her acknowledging mumble.
“Ear piercings, like we talked about yesterday—“ more impatient mumbling, “then just… a get-together."
You shrugged. “You really didn’t want anything crazy. No barhopping, no clubbing… but it’s okay, we’ll still find a way to make it feel like a special twenty-first.”
She eyed the way you smiled at her, and before she could even ask her nervous "How?" you explained.
“Still some drinking, but I have mocktails for you. You’re getting pierced and… Mabel is… planning something.”
“What are they planning?” she asked, and you offered an apologetic smile.
“I don’t know, I’m sorry… but they promised me you’ll like it, okay?”
Mel hummed in response with her best appreciative, brave face, given the uncomfortable circumstances. You laughed a little, reaching over to rub her side before she rolled over to lie on her back.
“It’s okay. I promise Mabel wouldn’t mess with you.”
“Okay…” she trailed off, still looking at you. Just when it seemed she was starting to relax again, she tensed up beside you. She looked at you with the saddest eyes, as if you had only ever planned the most malicious things for the poor girl.
"Are you going to use a piercing gun?”
“No piercing gun. No biohazard Claire’s teddy bear either, blondie." You laughed. She sighed in relief, settling into her spot and staring up at the ceiling for mere seconds only to return her gaze to you.
“I really didn’t like the piercing gun,” Mel explained in a small murmur.
"Nobody does, so just know you're not alone.”
“And no presents?”
“No, I remembered. I told them no presents.”
She nodded, looking up at the ceiling and bringing her hands together. She pulled at her fingers, putting her hands into odd angles and self-hugs. She suddenly took in a breath, finally verbalizing what had been taking up residence in her head.
“I just… It's not really my birthday…? So, it doesn’t feel fair—” Her words sliced through an inhale as if they’d been waiting for their opening the moment the oxygen hit her lungs. When you spoke up, she held her breath along with her words, pressing her lips together.
“People can still give you—sorry, go ahead.”
"Mm—nope." she shook her head stiffly, trying to signal for you to continue. Despite her own tendency to interrupt, whether she was excited or tired enough to actually be impatient with people, Mel really didn’t take being interrupted well. You offered an apologetic look, concluding your comment as soon as possible.
“I only wanted to point out people can still give you gifts because they like you.”
“Hm,” she hummed in disagreement, clearly digging her heels in on this one. There was no real significant date to necessitate gifts, in her opinion, and as it was…
“I don’t like opening gifts in front of other people,” she admitted with a sigh, glancing at you with frowning brows. “What if I hate what I get or I already have it?”
“Just lie and act like you love it.”
Mel looked down at her gently turning, touching hands.
“I don’t like to lie…”
“But it’s to spare feelings, y’know? Like… the other night," you gestured before slapping the hand back down to the top of your thigh, "when I tried to make that weird chicken recipe. Did you like it?”
“Yeah…” she offered with a pained smile, twisting her hands again more than lightly touching the fingertips together or feeling the edge of her nails at this point. “Yeah, it was…”
She cleared her throat, shaking her head at herself as she glanced down with a murmured, “It was great…”
Neither of you finished the meal, so you already had your answer, but you wanted to see her best attempt. Odd flavor combinations aside, Mel had unfortunately taken a bite of the chicken in a spot that felt "too tendon-y,” which has deterred her from eating chicken since.
Now, with that look on her face, you broke out laughing. Your body rolled closer to hers, and you hid your face in the pillows, letting the laughter sink into the cushion. A shy curve twitched at her lips.
“Okay, maybe you can open gifts in private for the rest of your life,” you tittered while shifting to lie more on your side and mindlessly tangle a leg with hers.
But, yeah, it was only ever Mel who was initiating being too close.
Mel let out one of her shy "heh"s, attempting a smile before her lips were pulling away to the side in an awkward gesture.
“You’re funny, Mel,” you hummed out in a content, gentle tone that she loved. You had been looking at her when you complimented her, but your attention quickly reconnected with your own touch on her.
Mel observed you from her spot on her back, also moving her gaze down when she felt your hand smooth over her stomach.
“Thanks…” she softened with a tired murmur, testing a glance to see where your attention was. She was glad to have a moment to observe your face while you weren’t looking.
How did Megan go for that kiss again in But I'm a Cheerleader? Graham's head had been dipped down, kind of like the way yours was right now. So, the cheerleader sorta... ducked her face under and caught her mouth again, bringing Graham's posture back up along with her own. Mel should know, considering how many times she’s seen it over the course of a couple weeks. She’d pictured it in her head multiple times in these moments, like a set of instructions, but never had the courage to put it into action.
Just as she was fighting for some momentum to finally go for it, you were moving off of the bed right when she’d raised her upper body. You’d said something about food, but she’d been so lost in encouraging herself, she missed it, and also missed the fact that you were clearly leaving your bed until it was already happening.
“You okay?” You chuckled, turning back to her after catching how oddly she had moved beside you.
“Yeah… yep." She laughed it off, even if her urge to nod was translated to an honest shake of her head at herself. She looked down at the bedding, finding a stray thread to mess with.
Mel only glanced up again to watch you walk out of the room and then sighed through her nose. With you gone into the hallway, she grimaced to herself and trailed her eyes up to the ceiling.
ʚɞ
"What's the lubricant for again?" Mel asked with her head tilted, observing the array in front of you. You still had to make the markings on her ears, so you were leaving the tools in their autoclave packages for now, but you wanted to have everything ready.
Trinity snorted. You glared at her with such weak judgment; it only took a second to turn into smiling at her.
"Less friction, less irritation..." you explained, trailing off with a sigh. You placed your last tool onto the tray with a distinctive clack when you caught Trinity choking down a giggle.
"You're a child."
"Yeah..." she agreed, lax in the chair by the wall and still focusing on her phone.
“Anyway,” you continued once you looked back to see Mel still expectantly watching you from her spot in the cushy client's chair. “I keep the process nice and quick by putting a little lubricant here on—”
“That’s what she said.”
“—on my hand—thank you, Trinity—“ you finally laughed, shaking your head while she smirked to herself, secretly glancing up from her screen a few times to see your reaction. You’d been in the middle of pointing to the inner side of your hand, but now your attention had strayed back to look at her.
Mel actually sighed impatiently over the interruptions, which only made this more fun for Trinity.
“So, the lubricant…?” Mel asked to get you back on track. Trinity bounced her eyebrows at you a couple of times, but you did your best to focus back on the blonde sat in front of you.
“Single-use, sterile, and water-based,” you clarified, letting her look at the small packet even though you were pretty sure she'd seen them before. Actually, you knew she'd seen you do multiple earlobe piercings the day of the one-month celebration, but you humored her curiosities anyway if it soothed her.
“Once I have everything else ready, I put some of that lubricant on my hand to rest the needles on since I’ll be putting a light coating on them anyway. Setting them here just gives easy access.”
“You’re killing me here—" Trinity groaned, and you failed to keep your smile to yourself. You still tried to feign innocence anyway.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? A Huckle-Fuck to catch, maybe?”
“Yeah, yeah…” Trinity got up, probably making a face at you on her way out of the piercing room.
“Dr. Whitaker?” Mel asked you once the nickname translated in her brain.
“Yeah,” you nod, then glance up at her. “Shit, I’m sorry. He just figured he’d be coming with. Did you not want him here?”
“No, no, that’s okay." She smiled. She hadn't been expecting anyone else from PTMC to bother. That was on her, though, since she had been too shy to ask anyone else to come. Again—not really her birthday.
"Okay," you eyed her a moment longer, swapping gloves. "You ready?"
"Uh, yes," she confirmed after some nervous hesitation. She tried to summon a confident grin, shivering from the cold alcohol wipe.
"Yes, ma'am..."
You huffed a laugh over the silly tone she'd dropped into, briefly raising your gaze from the skin marker you were unpackaging.
"Alright, weirdo, look forward for me? I want to make sure I get these nice and even…"
She nodded, only to do the exact opposite when you finally went to make a very light, first mark. Mel pressed her head back, as if she could possibly go inward enough to actually see her ear, just like the day you met and you’d been gesturing to the favorable anatomy of her ear for an industrial.
"Mel."
"Right, sorry," she whispered with an apologetic smile.
You were happy to explain everything to her and let her see everything you were working with, just like any other client who needed it, but you really needed her to look forward if she wanted even piercings.
You end up wiping away the first mark to better match it with the one you'd made on the other side, sighing when Mel moves again.
"Mel," you reminded her with a light pat to her cheek from the back of your hand. "Look forward. Thank you…"
She mumbled another apology, which you accepted before she could spiral over it. Once the marks were made, you tossed the marker and gloves so you could give her a mirror to look into. While she looked them over, you'd put on another set of gloves to open the autoclave packages. Mel still couldn't quite decide if knowing what each tool was helped to ease her mind or only made her anxieties worse.
"Okay, I think I'm ready," she informed you, hoping to state it definitively and confidently, but it came out more like a squeak.
"You sure?" you questioned.
She set the mirror down in her lap and nodded rapidly, her expression all scrunched up. Those fuzzy, tingling nerves were creeping up again, and she silently reminded herself over and over that you were very good at your job and never used a piercing gun.
“You okay, hon?" you murmured, angling yourself to try grabbing her attention. "I only really needed you sitting up to place my marks. I can lean you back now, if you want.”
Mel swallowed and shook her head, mumbling that she was fine.
“Mkay…” you said, not exactly believing her. You look her over while purposely taking your sweet time to open the last couple packages, just in case.
“Actually, if I could sit back just—just a tad..." she blurted out once you were opening up the needles. "Uhm… I think that would be good."
You smiled fondly and got up from your seat, keeping your arms bent up to avoid touching anything other than your tools while you stepped on the pedal of the client's chair.
"Did you do that on purpose? Taking a while to open the rest of your tools?" She asked in a little voice.
"Yup."
"Smart," she nodded approvingly, even if she was basically choking out the word on a nervous breath.
"Mel, just relax, okay...? Or try your best to," you urged in a whisper. "We also don't have to do this at all, if you want to chan—"
"No. No, I want my ears pierced," she insisted with a slight pout.
"Then stop holding your breath every time I move."
She shamefully let out the air she'd been unintentionally holding in her lungs.
"You know better," you chided playfully.
"I know…"
Despite requesting being laid back, she still bent her neck up enough to watch you get the round piercing forceps once you'd set your needles on the side of your newly gloved hand, like you had said. She focused on breathing the closer you got, casually tugging your wheeled tray closer with your foot before standing up straight.
"Okay," you let out a breath. "You'll feel me using the forceps first, okay? I might mess with it a couple times to get the right hold on it, but when I have it, I'll let you know."
With her ok and a reminder to stay still, you started. Mel temporarily tensed when she felt the pressure of the tool holding her earlobe, mumbling an apology.
"It's okay."
You sounded distant while focusing on your job but stayed so gentle with her. Mel found herself watching your face as you worked, since she couldn't watch your hands. When you caught her, you'd almost missed it at first and then glanced at her again with a little smile.
"You're doing great," you reassured her, and she offered a nervous smile, squeezing her hands low over her belly. She tried not to pay too much attention to the movement in her periphery informing her you were picking up one of the needles.
“Deep breath for me, Mel…"
She inhaled, briefly tensing again over the feeling of the needle going through, but in one smooth motion, it went from needle to insertion taper to piercing. You clicked the front of the threadless jewelry into place.
“There, not too bad, right? And just one more to go. You're doing great."
ʚɞ
"Oh, our Mel is getting all pierced; lemme see,” Mabel gasped, catching you two walking out before they got to the stairs.
Carrying a couple of bags, they met you and Mel partway to look at where you'd put the tiny star jewelry she'd wanted.
“Pretty!” They grinned, earning a quiet thanks from the blonde, who still felt shy under so much attention. “How was it? Not too bad, right?”
“No, not at all, it was a lot faster than I thought it would be." Mel was twisting her hands together in front of herself, glancing at you with a small smile. Her eyebrows raised then as she brought her attention back to Mabel.
“Oh! And much quieter than a piercing gun…”
"Yeah, piercing guns suck." Mabel conceded with a sigh.
“That’s how I pierced my nose, though,” they added, before they could turn to walk towards the stairs again. They laughed and pointed at you, prompting Mel to turn back to see your expression. “Yeah, she hates when I talk about that.”
“And you put an earring in it after,” you emphasized, trailing behind both of them.
“Oh, I totally did,” they snickered.
Nearly everyone was there, excluding Trinity, who was probably still waiting on Whitaker, but Mel zeroed in on her twin first.
“Becca!” Mel beamed the moment she spotted her, going over to hug her.
“Hi, Mel!” Becca grinned, briefly closing her eyes while she hugged her sister back. “Happy Not-Birthday.”
“Thanks,” she laughed quietly, just barely separating from her when Becca was already trying to hand her a gift.
“For me?” Mel asked, and despite her insistence on no presents, she still sounded so small. She tucked a few stray hairs back behind her ears with a careful motion, looking down at the wrapped item.
“Yeah! Open it,” Becca instructed, practically bouncing on her toes. You walked away from Mabel and back to Mel to see the gift that you totally had no idea about. You certainly hadn’t lied weeks ago over what Becca had whispered to you for this present.
“Mel says she doesn’t like gifts, but she secretly does,” Becca informed you.
“Oh, I should’ve gotten you something,” Mel whispered sadly to her sister as if today were really their birthday. She glanced at you like this realization was already eating away at her, and she was hoping you had something to solve it with. You’d barely parted your lips with whatever reassurances you could scrounge up on short notice when Becca spoke up.
“Oh, I don’t need another 21st birthday." She shook her head, toying with one of her pigtails. "I just wanna see you open your gift!"
When you’d first told Becca about your idea, she was confused because they’d already had their 21st birthday. Despite a lot of that time gradually becoming a blur in Mel's mind, Becca remembered her sister had made sure they had a cake and something for Becca to open. It was her first birthday—and Mel’s too—without a cake made by their mother. The tug this information had on your heartstrings must have been obvious since Becca told you, "You don't have to look so sad." She’d had store-bought cakes at other people’s birthdays, and she liked them.
This depressing fact turned out to be helpful, though, because the best way you could explain yourself was by pointing out a lot of people tend to get excited they can finally drink alcohol for their twenty-first, which she knew. She also knew Mel didn’t like alcohol, but you’d eventually reached the explanation that you’d have mocktails, so it would be like the drink version of another store-bought cake. Mel still wanted the drinking version of that store-bought cake.
“I don’t like the way alcohol smells,” Becca explained now with a giggle, her light attitude only fading the longer Mel went without opening the gift.
“Right. Sorry—” the blonde whispered and looked for a corner to tuck a finger into and pull at the paper.
ʚɞ
Since opening her gift from Becca, Mel hadn’t really let go of it beyond letting it rest in her lap so she could pick up her drink or plate of food. She had sunk into a beanbag chair because you had, and she wanted to be close to you. She still couldn’t quite tell if she liked it or not; constantly shifting to adjust her body only for its contents to shift as well and drag her butt back more at a weird angle.
The day had been perfect so far. Everyone around her was good and funny, caught in casual conversations like this moment was an everyday occurrence and not some act of kindness she still felt shy about. Whitaker was saying something in a hushed voice to Santos that made her roll her eyes even if she really wanted to laugh. Geri was bringing a plate of snacks to Becca.
The shop staff had stayed after hours for her, when she still felt she hardly knew them, yet none of them seemed burdened. At least, they didn’t look like it. She wanted to enjoy it. She wanted to be warmed by each second of having a caring community, so she tried her best to not let the gift sink her mood. Still, it was pulling at her, even if she loved it to the point of not wanting to even put it down until she was at home.
She was looking down at it again, brushing a finger against a felt corner, only to jump in her seat from Mabel calling for everyone’s attention.
“I know the gift rule—only Miss Becca here has VIP status—but I have something for everyone, okay?” They announced, and you groaned beside Mel, who looked curiously at you then at Mabel.
You knew the amount of theatrics Mabel was putting on and worried about what might be presented, so you briefly hid yourself behind the blonde tucked right beside you.
“So, I was informed this is a twenty-first birthday redo. Yet, the lady of the hour is not drinking or clubbing." They gestured to Mel, who immediately felt sick when that made everyone’s heads turn to her. You’d been watching Mabel again, still leaning back in the beanbag chair, but you reached a hand over to rub Mel’s back, feeling some of that tension fade at your touch.
“So, one might wonder: how can we still achieve that twenty-first party feel? Mocktails, of course, but I’d like to offer an addition, if I may…” They cleared their throat, thankfully bringing everyone’s eyes back to them. Mabel put on a pair of glasses and pulled out their phone. “Allow me to paint a scene…”
“Okay…” Mel trailed off in a whisper that ended in a tentative laugh.
“Mel,” Mabel began, glancing over the glasses at her before looking back at their screen. “You are enjoying the night of your twenty-first birthday… you are drunk and free—“
“Oh god, where’s Sasha when you need her…” Dani murmured with a laugh, earning a sassy look from Mabel. Dani settled her temple against her hand, and Mabel continued their "scene setting."
“You come across a less-than-reputable tattoo shop that still willingly tattoos the nightlife’s inebriated crowd… and like many a gal in her twenties, at least back in the day, you get your first tattoo drunk off your ass.”
They pull a little basket from a bag they'd had beside them all night and set it on the table for everyone to look in. Mel was still smiling, her brow only temporarily bunched by curiosity. She leaned forward like everyone else, recognizing the designs printed out with crinkly plastic on top of them from the day of the party.
“Everyone can get their drunken Mel’s twenty-first birthday tattoo, but she gets to choose first!” they clarified, pointing a finger at Whitaker, who had picked one up to show Trinity the funny design. He mouthed an apology, setting it back down, and Trin tried to not openly laugh at him.
You reached forward, thanking Reggie for pushing the basket closer so you could snag it and give it to Mel. The faint curve to her lips bloomed into a bigger smile and she looked through the cutouts of Mabel’s real designs that they’d had made into fake tattoos.
“First, I must respect Mel’s profession as well as my own and remind everyone that it is not recommended that anyone be tattooed while under the influence." Mabel was now reading with their phone inches from their face.
“Alcohol can impair judgment, which could cause one to make decisions they would later regret. It can also cause you to bleed more because it…” Mabel paused, squinting at their screen. "Affects coagulation and fib… Hm…fib-ero—”
“Fibrinolytic,” Trinity, Whitaker, and Mel all clarified. Without thinking, somehow your voice had been in the mix too, also stating the word for Mabel's sake.
“You remembered,” Mel whispered with a cheery smile, and you let out a playful sigh, leaning over to rest your head on her arm. It was hard not to when, at some point, she'd been obsessing over some article that used the word about a thousand times.
You glared at the two Chuckle-Fuck Twins when you noticed Whitaker and Trinity leaning into each other just enough to squeeze into your periphery. Whitaker drew a heart in the air Disney Channel style, and Trinity pretended to gag at you.
“—Yeah, that—fibrnlmtick factors which play a major role in the body’s ability to form blood clots. Blood clotting is a necessary aspect of the tattooing process as…”
Mabel went on, and you all groaned at different stages of loving exasperation. Well, excluding Mel, who was grinning enough for her smile lines to show; Becca, who thought Mabel was funny; and Geri, who was mostly observing the group dynamic with a soft appreciation. The rest of you were used to their love of a theatrical bit, or, at least in Whitaker’s case, acknowledging the ridiculousness of the medical PSA despite it being very fitting for Mel.
“To conclude: I am very excited to give you your first 'tattoo,' and in true ‘drunk tat’ fashion, I’m really hoping you’ll let me give you a tramp stamp. That is all,” Mabel finished, happy to get the laughs they’d been hoping for.
“A what…?” Mel giggled, and yet again nearly everyone reacted at once, turning in their spots or standing up to gesture to the lower spine.
“I kinda hate how quickly I answered that,” Whitaker muttered to himself after being one of the first to show where a tramp stamp would be.
“Well, you’re a tramp at heart, Huckleberry,” Trinity whispered, patting his back.
“That would actually be a perfect design for it,” you whispered to Mel, pointing to the floral and butterfly pattern she had in her hands.
“Okay…” Mel was starting to cave, passing the basket to a very excited Becca.
“And these come off?” She questioned.
“Yes, the permanent part still comes with the needles, don’t worry." You laughed, but she still lets out an unsure hum over the placement.
“This could be number thirty on the list…” you intoned in a playful whisper. She met your gaze that was so close to hers, considering the challenge with a shy smile.
“Hm… okay.” She finally agreed, and you cheered, earning a few more excited cheers over a fake tramp stamp in return. Mabel took out a sponge and a water cup they labeled “ink” with masking tape and a Sharpie, excitedly urging Mel over.
“Uh—hold on." You held up a finger, setting your drink down right as Mel fought her way out of her beanbag chair.
She looked over at you, taking a couple awkward steps around the beanbags to get to you when you had gestured for her to come over after tugging a bunch of napkins off the table. Mabel might’ve been ready, but you knew better than to risk Mel ending up with damp clothes.
“Hm—nope... Right here, thank you,” you said while adjusting her placement.
Mel hadn’t been expecting you to tug her over to you by her belt loops or hold her hips in both hands to angle them differently. She quietly cleared her throat and was grateful for the low lighting Mabel preferred for the upstairs lounge because her face was easily growing red. Her cheeks felt so hot she wished she could press the side of her glass against them without anyone noticing.
You tucked multiple napkins one after the other in the waistband of her jeans over her butt, only pulling your attention away when you heard Shelley cackling.
“Oh my god…” the girl groaned, and you looked past Mel to see Mabel fixing a tattoo lamp on their head and putting gloves on.
“I need that back tomorrow!” Shelley pointed to Mabel's forehead, which earned her the light being turned on in her direction. Their ex-apprentice flinched away from it with a snickered curse, shielding her eyes with one hand, still holding her drink in the other.
“Okay, she’s ready!” you announced.
“Prepped and draped,” Trinity added from behind the lip of her cup, getting an unimpressed look from Whitaker before he finally gave in with a huff and a smile. Quinn perked up.
“Oh! I know that from Grey’s Anatomy!”
That immediately earned her a simultaneous groan from Trin and Whitaker.
“Okay, everyone, shush!” Mabel insisted, trying to line up the fake tattoo once Mel stood in front of them.
Realizing you'd stayed in your chair, the blonde pouted back at you. You rolled your eyes, but she knew you didn't mean it when you were getting up for her. Trinity made a whip-cracking sound that finally earned her the laughter she knew it deserved.
You walked over to Mel anyway, flipping Trin off on your way before settling on the arm of Mabel's chair so you could hold Mel's hand, playfully wrapping your legs around hers.
"Quick, I got her; get the real tattoo machine—"
Mel giggled, nudging you, and earning both of you a mild warning from Mabel. They were taking this fake tramp stamp rather seriously.
“Wait,” Reggie had them pause when they were content with the placement. He laughed to himself, angling his body to get his phone from his pocket. “We should treat it like D&D night. Gotta have the ambience.”
“Oh, duh! I should’ve thought of that,” Mabel gasped excitedly.
Mel looked over her shoulder to see what Reggie was doing, only to get distracted by trying to see the unactivated fake tattoo pressed to her tailbone. You poked her side, reminding her to stop squirming, but you may as well have been confessing a deep love for her with the way you were looking up at her.
Mabel made sure the sponge was damp, and Reggie counted down before pressing play so the tattoo machine sound clip could play right as Mabel began applying water to the back of the fake tattoo.
Even without it being actual needles, Mel still flinched, answering your questioning gaze with a whisper about it being really cold.
“I’m sorry it’s cold, blondie,” you whispered with a laugh, giving her hand a squeeze.
Reggie paused the sound bite right as Mabel set their sponge down. He leaned forward to watch them peel the backing off, which had everyone else doing the same and playfully cheering as the floral design with the little butterfly in the center was revealed.
“Tattoo and piercing in one day. Really risking that tattoo flu,” Jess joked before she got up off the couch.
ʚɞ
Mel felt some guilt start to sink in when everything was lighthearted and fun, but she was still mentally slipping away. Like everyone else was floating along on water, and she was the only one finding stones suddenly weighing down her pockets. The others were laughing over their fake tattoos or gratefully accepting a slice of cake from Jess, but the moment she’d focused on her gift from Becca again, she'd gone silent and tense.
No matter how often you reassured her, Mel still felt bad when she needed time alone, so she tried to sneak away. She was used to being able to depart from her duty as the local wallflower unnoticed, but she’d hardly taken a few steps when you were gently catching her hand. You’d seen the look on her face, so you tilted your head at her with a silent, concerned question.
“I just need to get my charger from the car,” she explained in a whisper, giving a weak attempt at a reassuring smile.
“Okay…” you trailed off, still eyeing her, but you let go of her hand.
“Everything okay with Mel?” Whitaker asked, catching Trinity’s attention, who looked at him and then you.
“Yeah, she just needs her phone charger." You shook your head, waving it off.
Still, you sat there, thinking over whether or not you should go after her. What if something was wrong? But what if she wanted to be alone and you would be ruining her attempt to get some air?
Or she actually needed to grab her phone charger. You sighed quietly, shifting in your spot to put your plate down. The motion jammed the keys in your pocket right into your hip, startling you at first.
“Ah, shit,” you muttered. “Be right back." You held up your car keys in place of a proper explanation, leaving the lounge hopefully before Mel would have to walk all the way back, then to the car and back again.
But when you’d stepped out of the employee entrance, you spotted Mel sitting on the hood of the car, looking at something in her lap. The closer you got with careful steps, you noticed the familiar colors of a felt frame.
“Everything okay…?” You asked, and Mel jumped. Seeing it was only you, she relaxed and tried to offer a reassuring smile that was too feeble.
“Yeah, I’m…” she trailed off on a deep breath and then looked down again, shaking her head to herself.
“Why are you sitting on the hood of the car…?” You asked instead with a faint smile.
“I think it’s all the movies we’ve watched?” She answered easily this time, tilting her head at herself. The pull at the corners of her lips came more naturally this time, even if she was still twisting her fingers.
“People tend to do this a lot in movies. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually seen anyone do it…? I thought I’d try... I guess.”
“How is it?”
“Um… my butt is very warm,” she replied, and a more open grin formed at the way you laughed.
“Well, it is August.”
“M’yeah,” she relented with a nod, offering an awkward chuckle after. You climbed onto the hood to join her, gasping quietly over how hot the metal felt under your hands until your skin could gradually adapt to the feeling. How the hell was she sitting so comfortably?
“I thought that was sweet of them,” you said once you'd settled, pointing to the gift in her hands and still cringing over the heat the hood of your car had been absorbing all day from the late summer sun. The gift was a small picture frame made of felt with a Polaroid of her, Becca, and Adam from the craft night the frame was made.
You weren’t entirely lying when you had told Mel Becca had wanted you to make sure she went to craft night. You just… left out the part that Becca needed her there to make her a present. She hadn’t known about the birthday plans yet, not until you’d gotten her phone number and had a chance to FaceTime her about it, so it was a perfect, psychic twin moment on her part. Your job was to make sure Mel showed up with a camera ready.
Thankfully, Mel had been wanting to check the prompt to take more pictures off of her list anyway, so she was happy to borrow your Polaroid camera. She spent the short drive to Middle Hill practicing. This entailed apologies over accidental flash and quickly realizing how important lighting was, with an instant camera in particular, when she’d attempted to take a backlit picture of you driving.
Then, once the craft had really started, Mel may or may not have gotten so lost in her process of making bookmarks that she’d nearly forgotten to take pictures. At the time, she thought Adam was kind of cold towards her anyway, so it was nice to have the activity to distract her. She was used to a certain level of social cue mishaps, and it was always possible that he was having a hard time with two new people around, but it seemed like he was fully ignoring her.
“D’you still want to take pictures…?” you had reminded her.
“Oh! Right…” Mel gasped, cringing when she accidentally got some glue on her hand.
“It’s okay, I’ll take some pictures." You shrugged it off, handing her a paper towel from a stack in the middle of the table. “Actually, why don’t I take a picture of the three of you?”
You’s gotten up from the table, glancing at Becca, who got all giddy no matter how much she tried to hide it. Meanwhile, Mel gave you a look full of attitude that she just barely smothered before Becca turned to her.
“Oh, I… that’s okay, I doubt they’d…”
“I’d like it,” Adam said shyly, still not looking up from the edges of the felt he’d been sewing together.
Mel’s mouth formed an ‘o’ before she pressed it shut, looking at you again.
“Okay, I’ll take a few then. So everyone has one." You smiled, because it was hard not to when Becca was so excited. It would show in the picture too.
“Yeah… sure." Mel had nodded, humming momentarily to herself when she realized she should check the state of herself, plucking a rogue piece of felt from her shirt before leaning in close to Becca to smile for the picture. She hadn’t been expecting Adam to want a photo with her in it and was trying to spare herself from some potentially brutal honesty. Her inner shields easily melted away from the first signs of acceptance, always looking almost sad when she felt it. Then it turned out that he had seemed so distant because all his attention was on sewing and trying not to give away Becca’s idea. Mel had barely unwrapped it earlier before Becca was saying he’s a lot better at sewing than she is, but she’s good at decorating, so she did the rest.
“Hm? Oh…” Mel nodded now, looking back down at the gift. “Yeah, it’s really nice…”
“Are you sure you’re okay…?” you whispered. “Did today not go how you wanted it to?”
“Yes—no! No." Her eyebrows shot up and she shook her head. “Yes, I’m okay… no, it’s not… not how I wanted… I honestly didn’t know what I wanted when I don’t even drink, I…”
She sighed, dropping a hand she’d been gesturing with to her lap. “I’m sorry…”
“Why are you sorry?” you murmured, smoothing out a few stray hairs that were caught by a warm breeze.
“I feel ungrateful…” she whispered. “It’s… weird being the center of attention.”
You looked her over, gently smoothing a hand over her braided hair. Even if it wasn’t the same as when it was undone, it still soothed her.
“It’s nice in theory, but I always forget how uncomfortable it is when everyone’s looking at you…” she murmured with a sad twitch to her lips, pointing her gaze down.
“Plus, I…” Mel started, then looked over at you while her arms twisted together. She clenched her jaw and squeezed her hands together after looking away.
“What…?” you murmured, but she closed her eyes and shook her head.
"I still... feel behind," she whispered.
Sat with her knees up, Mel hooked her arms around them with her hands held together. She looked at the picture again on the tops of her thighs and frowned.
"I feel like no matter how many things I check off that list, I'm still behind everyone else..."
"In what way?" you murmured, nearly smoothing a hand over her arm but second-guessing it with how tense she was.
"Everyone seems so adult and ends up talking about things that leave me feeling lost," she admitted, and everything she'd been holding in today started to pour out.
"It's been so difficult trying to stay on track, I..." She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head at herself. "I'm supposed to be getting a boyfriend. I should've already at this point, and I'm still trying to catch up to my own sister! I mean she just up and got one out of nowhere?"
She huffed out, swallowing the feelings down with an expression that made it seem like she'd been fighting back vomit.
"Not... Not that Becca isn't great or doesn't deserve it, but it's..." Mel trailed off, her voice shrinking to a sad murmur. Her eyes found the gift in her lap again, uncurling her arms from around her legs to set her hands on the hood of the car.
"It's tough seeing her do it so easily..."
“Well," you started on a breath, before proceeding carefully. "I believe in the whole 'you attract what you truly want' philosophy, so I don’t think it’s random that she got a boyfriend..."
“You know it’s okay to not want it, right?” you murmured to her. Mel furrowed her brow at you.
“Guys. Or... all of it, I guess. It’s okay to just want to exist without that being a priority,” you explained further.
"It." "That." Romance. Sex. You couldn't even say the damn words, caught up in a whirlwind of feelings you hadn't had punch you in the gut quite like this in a while.
“I do want it,” she urged.
“What do you want so badly about it?”
“To be on track,” she shrugged, letting out an irritated huff. “To not be left behind. I don’t know.”
“So you want to fit in. It’s not about actually wanting the experiences for yourself.”
Mel temporarily shuts down, her mouth set tight while she looks towards the shop, then settles her attention on the asphalt of the parking lot. It's upsetting because you’re right when she doesn’t want you to be.
It's particularly frustrating when, realistically, she could see your observations being her truth once. Despite what she wanted, or thought she wanted, that was usually her. Usually. Maybe she could've been happy once had she learned more about the validity in not wanting relationships outside of the familial and platonic and never gone seeking anything else.
Instead, she'd finally found out that could've been her lot in life while already worrying she'd have to completely part from what had been her plan for years because of you. Her thoughts went in circles and tripped up and tangled together. She'd never have any peace in her own mind on the subject until she could finally be content with change or multiple things being true at once, and neither of those things were very easy for her.
She was almost mad at you for disrupting everything. Everything you mentioned about not wanting romantic or sexual relationships. Honestly, screw you, because that was true, or usually true—but now you're around, so everything’s messed up and confusing…
"And you..." she started, personally feeling she was on topic, but that was because she'd been the one involved in her own thoughts. "You wouldn't even kiss me."
You're my roommate and my friend, and you wouldn't even kiss me a few months ago, so how could I expect anyone to want me? was what she meant, but naturally she hadn't been that clear.
"What?" you laughed out from pure disbelief.
"You told me you didn't kiss friends, but you've done... a lot... with Santos," she explained, realization just barely dawning on you, which she'd see if she'd let herself look at you for longer than a second.
"That's different," you shrugged, eyeing her curiously.
"How?" she frowned, finally looking at you.
"Well, because Trinity is..."
Looking back at her now, you'd completely lost your initial reasoning against kissing her even if she hadn't fully acknowledged it yet.
"I... don't see why it matters so much to you," you deflated with a nervous laugh, shifting in your spot.
"Why didn't you want to?" she asked.
Another nervous, trapped laugh of disbelief choked out of you until you saw the look on her face. She looked so sad that all your defensive anxiety crumbled and dissipated with your next sigh.
“Why do you want me to kiss you anyway? " you asked in a softer tone, before adding with a small smile you hoped didn't show the punch of smugness this moment was giving you. "You already realized you don’t like kissing."
“Well, it’s different.”
“How is it different, Mel?" You pushed with a playful huff, hugging your legs closer to yourself.
“Well…” she trailed off, visibly irritated by all the words buzzing past in her mind and yet nothing of substance. Nothing to really relieve whatever she was feeling.
“Because it’s you,” she said softly.
“Because it’s me? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know… you’re safe…” she trailed off, swallowing nervously when she saw the way you were smiling at her.
She felt like such a joke, but she couldn't shut up, even if she still couldn't find the right words. She remembered the night Trinity had slept over back in May. She’d seen you two kissing just because you were tipsy and you could then falling apart with laughter over nothing. She'd barely let herself look because it felt private even right in front of her, but lately when she thought of it, a twisting, sour feeling struck against a warm, fuzzy sensation somewhere inside of her.
She thought about that first fantasy Megan has about Graham.
“S-so I've seen you kiss other people, and... it’s a happy thing. It’s not gross-looking or overwhelming, and I don’t… I don’t know, but—”
You uncurled your body and turned to her. You nodded along like you were really listening, as if adrenaline didn't have blood rushing in your ears. "Mhm," you'd offered in a teasing agreement, just to slide your hand over her jaw and pull her into a kiss the first chance you got.
Mel froze up so fast, suddenly forgetting every tip Trinity had whispered to her about kissing back in May, with words like bribe money snuck under a table.
She'd never wished she could cease to exist as much as she did now when you were pulling away with a breathy laugh.
"Mel, relax," you urged, quietly reminding her to stop tensing while you slid the pad of your thumb over her lips that she'd been puckering.
For a gesture attempting to physically encourage her to slacken her jaw and stop freezing up, it wasn't exactly helping clear her mind. Mel's heart beat so hard in her chest, she had to fight not to think clinically over the feelings she had.
When she'd finally loosened up enough, you'd murmured something she hardly caught and pressed your lips to hers again. Your mouth worked with hers in slow movements, trying to give her a chance to catch up to the general motion you were setting.
She knew when she had it because you deepened the kiss and slid your hand to her jaw. Okay, revisiting the concept of "getting butterflies." Was this what it actually felt like? She still didn’t think it was a very accurate description. It was more like those bugs that buzzed through the summer, nestled in her pelvic floor all while her blood pumped so hard that she almost felt lightheaded.
When you pulled back, she missed the feeling and wished you'd do it again. Mel blinked, looking at you past her glasses that were just barely out of place, to watch you briefly dart your tongue out between your lips, catching the moisture and taste of her lip balm without even thinking about it.
Instead of how dilated her pupils were, you tried to focus on the fact that there were people inside the shop waiting for both of you to come back. Still, you placed your forehead on hers and held back a weak sound trying to free itself just from Mel being so quick to close her eyes again. You didn't think you'd ever seen her so frazzled and desperate, and did you have self-control? No. Out of all the pleasures you've ever failed to deny yourself that you probably should have, you figured one more time wouldn't be so bad. Not if it was for her.
Mel sighed through her nose when you kissed her again, and she mirrored your body language to shyly place a hand on the side of your face.
· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ the photos and gif used in this post do not belong to me.
need cassie to see my femme outfits and pretty pink heels i would wear
summary: Cassie McKay and social worker! reader have an undeniable chemistry, and their flirtation is palpable whenever they’re in each other’s presence.
pairings: Cassie McKay x social worker! reader. Side characters like Dana Evans are mentioned and involved in the story.
content warnings: zero, nada, zilch
Cassie glanced away from the computer chart before anyone else did. “There she is,” Cassie said as you rounded the corner, wearing a fitted blush pink dress and your favorite glossy pink heels clicking confidently across the floor. you caught Cassie watching.
“…what?” You asked.
Cassie muttered, “Damn,” not even trying to conceal it, which made you laugh. Dana flashed a grin as you two looked at each other. Cassie lingered for another moment before pushing herself away from the nurses’ station. “Don’t you just wear those things to distract me?” she asked.
“I wear them because I like them,” you retorted. Cassie stepped closer, filling the space between you. “Mhm,” she hummed to herself.
“I think you wear them because you know precisely how they affect me.” Her words made your cheeks flush. Cassie’s eyes scanned your outfit with genuine admiration.
“The dress?” Cassie asked, her eyes widening in admiration. “Beautiful,” she replied, nodding approvingly. She gestured towards your shoes, pointing out the heels. Another nod. “My favorite pair,” she commented. Presumably, Cassie’s senior resident walked by, clearing his throat dramatically. You nudged Cassie’s arm, smirking to yourself.
“We’re at work, so behave,” you told her. Cassie merely tilted her head to the side in response. Without uttering a word, she reached over and adjusted your hospital badge, which had become twisted against your dress.
“There,” Cassie said. “And for the record, I always behave.”
Squinting slightly, you shook your head, refusing to engage in an argument with her. “You just want an excuse to fuss over me,” you said.
Cassie replied, “Always,” leaning in just enough for you to hear. “And don’t even think I missed the new lipstick.” She added.
Your hand brushed against your lips. “You noticed?” you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
“Baby,” Cassie said, her voice tinged with mild annoyance. “I notice everything.” Suddenly, her senior attending called out for her, urgently needing assistance with a sudden trauma. Cassie rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Look, I have to go. I suppose I’ll save admiring my girlfriend for after shift.” With a final grin, she backed away towards one of the trauma rooms.
Twirling your fingers in the air, you bid farewell to your girlfriend for now. “See you later, baby,” you said as you watched her rush into action upon reaching the trauma room.
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