The Way She Watches: A Study In Restraint (part 1)
This ended up being almost 12k words, so… I guess you’re getting multiple parts.
You wore her favorite dress just to test her. Melissa doesn’t break easily… but when she does, she doesn’t go quietly
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader
CW: sexual tension/heavy foreplay,
Explicit language, power dynamics, suggestive dialogue, public teasing/ semi-public setting, possessive behavior
You know she’s watching you.
Even if you couldn’t feel the weight of her gaze as it traced over your skin, you could see it in the mirror. Her desire is written in the tension in her jaw, and the way she hasn’t touched her wine in minutes, despite gripping the stem so tightly, you think it might break. As if she’s grounding herself in the pressure- anchoring herself so she doesn’t get up and undo you with her hands.
You smooth the dress over your hips, fingertips grazing the hem where it stops mid-thigh. The color glows warm in the light. It’s a deep, sultry forest green, and it’s unmistakably hers. It’s the shade she called “a goddamned problem” as she bent you over the couch because she couldn’t wait the first time you wore it.
“That the dress I think it is?” Her voice is husky and it sends a shiver down your spine.
You meet her eyes in the mirror, and smile slowly as you notice the green of her iris has almost completely disappeared.
“If you’re thinking about the one you lost your mind over and had ripped halfway off me before we even made it to the bedroom.”
The silence that fills the room is deafening, and only broken by the soft sound of her wine glass clinking against the nightstand.
You watch as she walks to you in the mirror, but you don’t turn. You simply tilt your chin a little and wait.
She’s slow about it. Each movement is measured. Melissa isn’t one to rush, not even when she’s angry. Especially not when she’s hungry. You can practically feel her across the room, stalking towards you in that black jumpsuit that hugs every delicious curve. She’s moving like she’s got all the time in the world to devote to ruining your night.
“You wore this for me?” She’s behind you now, and you can feel her breath across your ear.
Your lips curl into a wicked smirk as you answer softly. “I always do.”
“Then why you actin’ like a little shit about it?”
She reaches for you then, one hand catching your hip, the other slipping behind your neck as she turns you and walks you backwards until your spine hits the wall.
“You’re in rare form tonight.”
“You say that like it’s new.”
Her hands move to find your waist, dragging you roughly into her as she presses you against the wall. Your breath hitches as her lips brush your cheek, and suddenly you’re warm halfway to apologizing for something you haven’t done yet.
“You sure you still wanna go out?” she asks, lips brushing your cheek, her voice all threat and heat.
“Yep.” You chirp, popping the P, as you slowly lick off your lipgloss in an intentionally deadly move.
You nod, eyes wide and dripping with false innocence.
She scoffs softly against your skin.
“Yeah. And you wore it knowin’ damn well what it does to me.”
Melissa leans in, and fuck, her mouth is mere centimeters away from yours. Her nose nearly brushes yours as her hand slides up your thigh, thumb dragging under the edge of your dress.
“Jesus... you’re already soaked."
“Yeah,” you whisper, grinning. “That’s your fault. You’ve been watching me like I’m dessert.”
Her breath catches just for a second, and she presses closer into you.
“I could take you right here,” she murmurs, her voice dark and low, like a promise she’s already made. “Just push that tight little dress up, make you lean on the wall and take it. You wouldn’t even have to take your heels off.”
She smiles that wicked grin, and your thighs clench.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting fucked against the wall before you ever make it out the door?”
You tilt your chin. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
Her hand slips lower again, not quite touching you, just lightly dragging her fingers lightly along your thigh.
“It’s not a threat, babe, it’s a guarantee.” She says, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “You keep this up, and I’m gonna spend the whole night deciding how I want you later. My fingers? My mouth?” She hums as she darts out her tongue to taste the skin behind your ear. “It doesn’t matter. Either way, I’ll make sure you remember it.”
You hum like you’re thinking about it. “You do make a compelling case.”
“That wasn’t even me trying.”
You giggle- that sweet, infuriating giggle, that drives Melissa crazy, before you push her away slightly, hands ghosting over the lapels of her jumpsuit. “But see, if we stayed in, then you wouldn’t get to watch me.”
Melissa blinks. “Come again?”
“You heard me,” you whisper, stepping back as the smirk spreads across your lips. “I want you simmering in it. I want you at that table tonight, legs crossed like there’s nothing wrong, while I dance with Ava. While everyone else looks at me and thinks they might have a chance. But you just get to sit there, while we’re surrounded by people who don’t know I’ll be on my knees for you later.”
Her eyes darken instantly.
“I want you,” you continue, biting your bottom lip as your hands rub across her thigh “to sit there, knowing I chose to walk away from your hands tonight.”
She blinks once, and then laughs, low and dangerous.
“You’re outta your fuckin’ mind.”
She steps in again, hands bracketing your waist. “Last chance, babe. Stay?”
You blink up at her, grinning. “No.”
Melissa exhales through her nose like it physically hurts to let you walk away.
She pulls you closer, smiling at you as she whispers “You’re evil.”
And then it’s your turn to lean in, lightly brushing your lips against hers, and whisper, “But I’m yours.”
Melissa kisses you then, and it's rough, deep, and over far too quickly. Then she pulls away, breathing hard, lips shiny with your lipgloss.
“We’re leaving the second I can’t take it anymore.”
You smirk, winking as you challenge her one more time, “Guess I’ll have to push my luck.”
She slaps your ass as you turn toward the door, it’s not hard, not painful, but it is a promise.
“Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish, angel.”
You glance over your shoulder, lips curled into a sweet, dangerous smile.
“Oh, I’m ready. Just not yet.”
She’s quiet in the car on the ride over. She doesn’t talk- she simply drives, one hand on the wheel, and the other resting on your thigh like it’s the only thing keeping her from dragging you into her lap at a red light.
You don’t push her, not in the car. You just smile as you look out the window, your legs crossed, and the hem of your dress inching higher with every casual shift of your weight.
In fact, neither of you say a word until she’s parked the car, and you’re both standing outside the bar.
Melissa’s eyes are dark as she exhales, watching the soft glow through the windows.
“Are you sure about this?”
You nod, pulling her close to you, and wrapping your arms around her neck softly. “I am. After all, you promised to be good.”
Her head tilts softly, and the corners of her mouth twitch up into a smile. “Did I?”
“You did… right before you promised to ruin me later.”
She laughs, and it's low and dangerous, settling in your core as she leans in to brush a kiss against your jaw, just below your ear.
“Get inside before I change my mind.”
You lead the way, her hand resting on your back, just above the curve of your ass.
Inside, the bar is dim, but warm, the air alive with bass, bourbon, and candlelight. There’s a low hum of voices, and a vague clatter of glasses, but none of it makes its way to you. You’re far too focused on the warmth spreading from her hands’ place on your back.
You take your time as you move through the bar- trying to avoid the throng of people. What you can’t avoid is the feeling of her eyes on you as you walk. She’s watching your every move, focusing on the way your dress shifts as you walk, and the way your skin looks in the soft light. What she focuses on though is the way people are glancing twice- some more than twice.
She doesn’t say anything, she won’t, not yet, but her hand shifts to find your waist again, and this time she presses you to her tighter.
Once you make it to the bar, you order her usual, something smoky and dark, and something sweeter for yourself. You sip it slowly as you move towards a table, claiming it for you and the rest of your crew. You’re not touching her yet, after all… you want her simmering.
And simmering she is, as she leans against the table, all clean lines and lethal calm. The cut of her jumpsuit emphasizes the slope of her legs, and the curve of her waist, but all you can think of is how she looks like she’s planning on how to make good on every whispered threat.
Your voice is soft and low as you lean toward her.
“I thought you liked danger.”
She doesn’t touch you again, but her breath catches, and that’s enough for now.
You slide into the booth first, crossing your legs slowly as the dress inches higher on your thigh. The leather is cool beneath you, and the table is still sticky with condensation from the towel used to wipe up the remnants of the last group that occupied the table. Melissa sits beside you, far too composed for the amount of heat and tension radiating off of her like a second skin.
She takes a sip of her drink, before setting it down.
The conversation doesn’t have to be rushed when it’s just the two of you. It flows naturally, even as the music hums low around you, bass thrumming through the floor like a heartbeat. She rests her arm along the back of the booth, a casually possessive move that makes you melt a little as she lets her fingers toy with the ends of your hair. It’s the kind of absentminded attention that screams mine without a word.
You take a sip of your drink and glance sideways at her. “You’re quiet tonight.”
She lets her eyes drag down your body, before trailing them back up with an infuriating slowness.
“On trying not to drag you out of here, and fuck you in the car.”
Your jaw drops, and you take a sip of your drink before swirling your straw with a giggle.
“Melissa… you promised to behave.”
Your hand slides under the table then, brushing her thigh.
She catches your wrist gently, not hard, just enough to still you before she leans in, her mouth a hush of breath against your cheek.
“Careful, angel. There’s still time for me to change my mind.”
You open your mouth, not sure if you’re going to tease or surrender, but the creak of the door saves you. Or it interrupts you- depending on how you look at it.
Ava strides in like she’s headlining a show, head held high, heels sharp, and earrings catching the dim light as she scans the bar, eyes locking on you both.
Her grin spreads instantly.
“Well, well, well,” she calls, loud enough for half of the room to hear. “If it isn’t the human embodiment of sin, sex, and sapphic tension.”
Melissa exhales sharply as she pulls her hand from your wrist and takes another swig of her drink. She doesn’t smile- simply attempts to calm herself down.
You, however, beam as Ava heads towards your table.
She swans towards the booth, slow and dramatic, kissing your cheek as she slides into the seat opposite you.
“I mean, really,” she continues. “You two walk in here looking like you’ve either just fucked, or are seconds away from fucking in the bathroom, and I personally, am thrilled to witness the fallout.”
Melissa raises a brow and smirks slightly. “You done?”
She steals the cherry from your drink, popping it into her mouth, before pointing between the two of you with a well manicured finger.
“Whatever’s going down between you two tonight? I demand front-row seats.”
“Then you might want to sit over here,” you say sweetly, giggling as you lean in closer to Melissa and let your lips skim just under her jaw.
Ava grins, lounging back. “See, this is exactly why I came.”
Just then, the door creaks again, this time Jacob stepping in with Gregory and Janine behind him, still caught in laughter. The three spot your booth instantly.
Janine waves, calling out a cheerful, “Hey y’all!” while Gregory nods as Jacob is scanning for menus.
You feel Melissa’s hand slide to your waist as the others approach. The touch is grounding, familiar and a little firmer now that there’s an audience.
You just smile wider, sliding your hand under the table to tangle your fingers lightly with hers.
You’re still teasing, but you want her to know you’re hers, and you’re already wrecked, despite the fact that the night is just beginning.
The arrival of your friends means that the table fills quickly, and it’s all warm chatter and overlapping voices as drinks clink and shoulders brush against each other. Ava, already two stories in, is halfway through an outrageous story detailing a bachelorette party gone wrong, complete with glitter, matching tattoos, and a mild run-in with mall security. Jacob is gasping with every twist like he’s watching a horror movie, meanwhile Janine keeps saying “Oh my god, Ava!” like she isn’t hanging on every word. Gregory’s just sipping on his drink, looking like he regrets coming out.
But none of it manages to penetrate the haze surrounding you and Melissa. Not when her hand is wrapped around your thigh like it belongs there, thumb circling just above the hem of your dress, like she’s soothing herself with the feel of your skin.
You’ve relaxed into her now, nestling into her side with your legs angled across her lap, balancing a drink in one hand, as you drape your other arm behind her shoulders. She’s stiff at first- like she’s trying to stop herself from pulling you into her lap and ruining you. But then your fingers ghost across the back of her neck, slipping under her collar ever so slightly, and she relaxes as she breathes.
You glance up at her with a smile, and she brushes a kiss against your hair like it’s a secret.
Across the table, Ava’s eyebrows are raised so high, they might fall off her face.
“Okay, what the hell is this?”
Melissa doesn’t move, just lifts a brow.
“This,” Ava waves a hand dramatically, “unholy lovechild of gentle lesbian longing and something belonging in an R-rated thriller.”
You hum, resting your head against Melissa’s shoulder and kissing it softly.
Janine leans in, voice low in a half-whisper.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two like this.”
“She’s just irresistible,” you smirk up at Melissa as she turns her gaze on you again.
Jacob’s jaw drops as he chimes in. “You guys- What is going on? You’re both normally more… buttoned up.”
Melissa’s smirk is wicked as she answers.
“That was before she wore this dress.”
“So it’s my fault you can’t keep your hands off me?”
She leans in, her mouth brushing your ear, and drops her voice so only you can hear.
“Keep teasing me, and I’m going to fuck you in front of all of our friends.”
Your breath catches, and your hand tightens around your drink, but the table keeps talking, someone’s trying to wave down a server to order food, but your world is narrowing again to just her.
All you can think about is the way her fingers are curling a little tighter on your leg. The way her voice is pure velvet, dripping with heat, and the way her lips brush against your cheek, in a soft but possessive move, as if she’s marking you in plain sight.
She holds your gaze, refusing to look away, even as Ava mutters under her breath, “Jesus Christ, I’m third-wheeling a porno.”
Your smile is slow and wicked as you tilt your head up to whisper, “Don’t worry. We’ll leave before it gets too indecent.”
Melissa’s eyes darken, and her laugh is quiet.
“Careful,” she says. “If you keep pushing, I’m not waiting until we get home.”
Her words combined with your second drink have given your fingers a mind of their own. You’re tracing patterns on Melissa’s thigh, even as the conversation swirls around you. You feel a little floaty, and you’re warm from her touch and the way her eyes haven’t left you all night.
She hasn’t said much in a while, just sipped on her drink, as she watches you. Her eyes follow your every move like you’re burning, and she’s planning how she’ll put the fire out.
You lean closer, tipping your face toward hers.
She doesn’t answer immediately, simply tilts her head, like she’s trying to decipher if there’s a hidden meaning behind your voice.
You say it again, quieter this time, sweeter.
“Please, Mel? Just one song?”
You pout, tugging on the lapel of her jumpsuit like that’ll change her mind. “Why not?”
She turns toward you, eyes dark and knowing as she leans in until her lips brush the shell of your ear.
“Because, if I touch you like that, I’m going to fuck you in the middle of this bar.”
Your breath stutters and you blink as you try not to melt into her.
She grins. “It’s a survival tactic.”
You giggle, burying your face in her neck for a second before looking up again, all wide eyes and mock innocence.
“You sure? You’d get to hold me.”
She presses a soft kiss to your temple.”I’m holding you now.”
And just when you think you might have worn her down-
“I heard dance party and I am so in.”
Ava slides out of the booth like she was born in stilettos, already reaching for your hand.
You glance at Melissa, half-apologetic, and half-defiant.
The look Melissa gives you is full of warning, and amused resignation.
“No promises,” you wink as you slide out of her arms, and out of the booth.
Her eyes are on you the entire walk to the floor, and you can feel how wet you are for her. You’re already soaked, already wrecked for her.
The music shifts to something bass-heavy and slow, pulsing with rhythm. Ava’s hand finds your hip, her other arm flung up as she dances beside you, all glittering mischief.
You let the music flow through your body. You let your hips roll and your head tip back, because you’re not dancing for Ava. You’re dancing for the redhead you left in the booth. The one who looks like she’s damn near ready to drag you out of the bar. The one whose restraint is but a fraying thread.
Ava notices… of course she does.
“Oh,” she says with a grin. “You really are trying to get wrecked tonight.”
You just laugh, turning in the light, and letting your hips sway to the beat.
You’re flushed when you return to the booth, cheeks glowing, hair tousled, dress riding higher from the sway of your hips. The back of your neck is sweaty, and your chest is full of warmth and the unmistakable thrill from being watched by her.
Melissa hasn’t moved from her spot, but her eyes have followed every step, every turn, and every flick of your smile as you danced. She’s still nursing the same drink, although it looks untouched now, and the edge of her jaw has sharpened further.
Ava heads for the bar with a wink and a triumphant, “You’re welcome,” and you cannot ignore the way Janine and Jacob attempt to pretend like they didn’t witness your full sapphic seduction routine in real time.
You ignore them though, heading straight for Melissa who doesn’t say a word. She just reaches out, hooks a hand around your waist, and pulls you into her lap. Hard.
Your legs fall over hers as you stumble, and her hand spreads across your back, firm and unrelenting, as her other arm anchors you to her. She doesn’t give you a chance to say anything, doesn’t give the table the chance to crack a joke before she kisses you.
Right there in front of everyone. There’s no slow lean-in, no coy glance. Just the sudden crush of her mouth on yours. It’s deep, intentional, and possessive in a way that makes your blood sing and your hands clutch her collar like you’re drowning.
You feel the press of her tongue, the rough edge of her teeth, and hear the moan come out of your mouth as you melt into the kiss. Her fingers curl around your hip, trying to pull you deeper against her.
When she finally pulls back, you’re both panting, and your lip gloss is long gone. Her voice is low and ragged as she speaks.
You blink, still dazed from the kiss. “Now?”
She meets your eyes, grip iron-tight.
“You wanted me to break. Congratulations.”
You should be smug, should be smirking, but the only thing you can do is nod. Because her pupils are blown wide, and you can feel yourself growing wetter with every thump of her heartbeat beneath your palm.
She shifts beneath you, brushes her lips against your jaw, then whispers in your ear.
“Get in the car before I fuck you in this booth.”
Your legs are already moving, and behind you, Ava shouts triumphantly, “Finally!”
But you don’t turn back. You’re too focused on the heat of Melissa’s hand at your waist, and the way she’s undressing you with her eyes.
You don’t even say goodbye. You don’t need to, because every single person at that table knows exactly what’s happening. And you?
You asked for this… no you begged for this.
You’re getting everything you wanted.
@schemmentisimpasours @milfjuulpod @janeyseymour
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