Val:) @whaught22 - Tumblr Blog

Jul 27

Stickers & Scrubs - Chapter 2

Dana Evans x Melissa Schemmenti x Reader Warnings: a lil angsty, SMUT, dom/sub dynamic, implied homobia, someone give our cutie patootie a hug plsss WC: 4.9k Authors Note: thanks for all the support on chapter 1! You make writing this series fun <3 enjoy!

Dana didn’t say a word the entire ride home.

She drove with both hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road, jaw still carrying the same tight set it had worn since the gym. The earlier easy silence between you—the kind filled with shared looks and the occasional brush of fingers—had been replaced by something heavier.

You knew better than to push. After enough long nights at the Pitt and enough quiet mornings like this, you had learned the difference between Dana processing and Dana shutting down. This was the first one.

You watched the city slide by in the late-afternoon light. Brick buildings gave way to narrower streets, then to the familiar stretch near the apartment. Every so often you glanced at her profile—the controlled way she checked the mirrors, the slight tension in her shoulders that hadn’t eased since Melissa Schemmenti’s name had landed between you like a live wire. You kept your hands to yourself and let the quiet settle.

Halfway home you pulled out your phone, more for something to do than anything else.

You: the weirdest thing just happened between dana and a hot redhead at the health fair at abbott

The reply came almost immediately.

Trinity: define hot

Trinity: and is she single

You stared at the screen for a second, then huffed a quiet breath through your nose.

You: fuck off

Trinity sent a string of laughing emojis followed by:

Trinity: ohhh so she’s HOT hot

Trinity: details later. don’t do anything stupid

You locked the phone and dropped it in your lap. Dana still hadn’t looked at you. The only sound in the car was the low hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal.

When the apartment came into view she pulled into her usual spot and sat there for a second longer than necessary, hands still resting on the wheel. The silence stretched. You could feel the weight of whatever had cracked open at Abbott Elementary still sitting between you.

You waited, giving her the same patience she always gave you after the worst shifts.

Finally Dana exhaled, slow and controlled, and reached for the door handle.

“Come on,” she said, voice quiet. It was the first thing she’d said since leaving the school.

You followed her out of the car and up the steps, the afternoon light slanting across the brick. Whatever conversation was coming, it wasn’t going to be light.

—

By the time you reached the apartment Dana was already disappearing down the short hallway. The bedroom door clicked shut behind her—not slammed, just firmly closed. The message was clear enough.

You stood in the entryway for a moment, keys still in your hand, then walked into the kitchen and set them on the counter. The space felt too quiet after the morning you had. Afternoon light cut across the floor in the same familiar stripes it always did, but everything else felt off-kilter. You opened the fridge out of habit, stared at the contents without seeing them, and closed it again.

Confused didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pulled out your phone and leaned against the counter.

You: ok so update

You: we get to the school, everything’s fine, I’m handing out stickers like a normal person

You: then this kid drags his teacher over and she’s this hot redhead

You: dana goes completely still

You: like full system shutdown

You: then she just looks at her and goes “we dated”

The typing bubbles appeared almost immediately.

Trinity: I’M SORRY

Trinity: ???

Trinity: she said that in front of you???

Trinity: at a children’s health fair???

You: yes

You: and then neither of them said anything else useful

You: just stood there radiating weird energy while i held a sheet of cartoon kidneys…

Trinity: this is the most chaotic lesbian situation i’ve heard all week and it’s only tuesday

Trinity: also “hot redhead teacher” is doing a lot of work in that sentence

Trinity: you’re not slick

You almost smiled.

You: I’m processing

You: she hasn’t said a word since we left

You: just drove home in total silence and went straight to the bedroom

Trinity: give her time

Trinity: but also

Trinity: when she comes out you better get the full story

Trinity: because if your girlfriend’s ex is a hot elementary school teacher i need details for science

You: you’re the worst

Trinity: I’m the best and you love me

Trinity: text me later

Trinity: and don’t spiral

You locked the phone and set it face-down on the counter. The apartment stayed quiet. No movement from the bedroom. No sound of drawers or footsteps.

You stayed in the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at nothing in particular, and tried to figure out how a morning that had started with bagels and stickers had turned into this.

You gave it another ten minutes before you finally walked down the hall.

The bedroom door was still closed. You hesitated with your hand on the frame, listening for any sound on the other side, then pushed it open.

Dana was on the bed, completely bare, sitting back against the headboard with the sheet pooled loosely around her hips. The late-afternoon light cut across her blonde hair tickling her bare shoulders, the line of her collarbones, the soft curve of her breasts. She looked up when you stepped inside. Whatever careful distance she had been holding in the car was still there.

You stayed by the door for a second, taking her in. “Hey baby,” you said softly.

Dana’s gaze moved over your face, then down the length of you and back up again. She didn’t smile.

“Can I have control?”

The question landed directly. You were usually the one who took the lead—more often the one who guided her down, set the pace, and decided how far to take her. Dana asking for it was rare enough that it shifted the air in the room immediately.

You studied her. The tight set of her jaw from earlier had eased, but the weight behind her eyes hadn’t. Whatever seeing Melissa had cracked open was still sitting right there beneath the surface.

You stepped closer to the bed and sat on the edge.

“Yeah,” you said. “If that’s what you need.” Your voice stayed gentle. “Will it make you feel better?”

Dana reached for you before you finished the sentence. Her hand curled around the back of your neck, firm, and pulled you down into a kiss that was deeper and rawer than anything from this morning.

There was no teasing in it—just heat and demand. Her mouth opened against yours, tongue sliding in, and you felt the shift: she wasn’t asking anymore. She was taking.

When she finally drew back, her forehead rested against yours, breath warm and uneven against your mouth.

“Yes,” she said, voice certain. “It will.”

Her fingers stayed buried in your hair, holding you there like she needed the contact to steady herself. Then she shifted, guiding you further onto the bed without another word. You let her.

She pushed you onto your back and following you down until her bare thighs framed your hips. The sheet slipped away completely. Her breasts brushed yours as she leaned in again, kissing you harder, while one hand slid under your shirt, fingers teasing along the soft trail of hair below your navel.

You made a soft sound against her mouth. Dana answered it by rolling her hips down against you, letting you feel exactly how wet she already was. The thin fabric of your scrub pants did nothing to hide it. Her free hand caught your wrist and pinned it to the mattress beside your head.

She broke the kiss just long enough to look at you, eyes dark.

“Stay like this,” she murmured. “Don’t move.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure how well you were going to be able to follow instructions. Your hips shifted up almost on instinct, grinding against her. Dana groaned at the feeling of the fabric dragging over her folds. For a second her control slipped and she pressed down harder, chasing the friction—then she caught herself. A small, breathless chuckle escaped her, and the sight of that smile—the first real one since the school made your chest tighten even as heat pooled lower.

She pushed her hands firmly into your hips, pinning you in place.

“Don’t be a brat,” she said, voice rough. “You’re not running this.”

She leaned over you, dragging her bare nipples across the peaks of yours where they strained against your shirt, then dipped her head to nip at your ear. The sharp little bite sent a pulse straight between your legs. You clenched around nothing, squirming for any kind of friction against your clit.

“Please,” you breathed.

Dana’s mouth curved against the side of your neck.

“Please what?” she asked, already knowing. Her weight kept you exactly where she wanted you, thighs bracketing your hips, the wet heat of her cunt pressed to the front of your pants. She rolled her hips once more, just enough to make both of you ache—and waited.

“Please,” you said again, voice rougher. “Want to make you feel good. Use me however you need.”

You squirmed under her, hips twitching with the need to feel more of her, to give her whatever would ease the unsettled thing still sitting behind her eyes.

Dana’s chuckle was dangerous. Her hips jerked forward again, grinding down harder this time.

“Use you?” she repeated, tasting the words. She leaned back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and assessing. “You want me to put a cock on you? Ride you while you can’t touch me?”

The image punched a groan out of you. Your hips jumped helplessly. You were already so wet it was embarrassing—she hadn’t even really touched you yet and your briefs were sticky against your cunt, the fabric clinging as you shifted and spread more slickness along your thighs.

Dana felt it. Her mouth curved wider.

“Yeah,” she murmured, rolling her hips in a slow, filthy circle that dragged her bare folds over the soaked front of your pants. “I think that’s exactly what you want.”

She leaned down until her mouth brushed your ear, voice dropping even lower.

“Or I could sit on that pretty face, use your mouth until I’m done, and maybe—if you’re good—I’ll let you come.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please. Please—want you. Want to taste you.”

Dana’s breath hitched at the raw eagerness in your voice. She pulled back just enough to look at you, then reached down and tugged your shirt up. You lifted your arms without being asked. The shirt hit the floor. Your sports bra, pants and briefs, followed a second later. The cool air of the room kissed your bare skin a moment before Dana’s hands did—palms dragging over your breasts, thumbs sweeping across your nipples just once.

“Stay still,” she reminded you, already shifting her weight higher.

She crawled up your body until her knees framed your shoulders, the wet heat of her cunt hovering just above your mouth. You could smell her and the urge to lift your head and taste her was overwhelming. Dana caught the movement and pressed a finger to your forehead, reminding you to keep down.

“Not yet,” she said softly. “Look at me.”

You did. From this angle she was all soft curves and control, thighs trembling just slightly with restraint. She held your gaze as she lowered herself the final inch, settling her wet folds against your mouth.

“Open, be a good girl,” she ordered.

The first taste of her—made your eyes shut, she was your own slice of heaven. She was soaked, slick coating your lips as she settled her weight on you.

“That’s it,” she murmured, one hand stroking on your forehead, the other braced on the headboard. “Just like that, baby.”

You hummed in answer, the vibration pulling a soft, involuntary sound from her throat. Her hips shifted, adjusting the angle until your tongue found the place she wanted. You licked a slow stripe from her entrance up, then focused on her clit, circling it with the flat of your tongue the way you knew she liked. Dana’s breath caught. Her thighs tensed on either side of your head.

She started to move—small, controlled rolls of her hips at first, using your mouth the way she needed. Every time you tried to lift your head for more she pressed you back down with that gentle hand, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.

The helplessness of it, the way she was taking her pleasure without giving you permission to chase your own, only made you wetter. Your hips shifted restlessly against the mattress, seeking friction that wasn’t there.

Dana noticed. A breathless laugh escaped her.

“Greedy,” she said. She ground down harder, smearing herself across your mouth and chin. “Fuck. You’re so good.”

You moaned into her, tongue working steadily, and felt her start to lose a little of that careful control. Her movements grew less measured—shorter, sharper rolls that dragged her clit over your tongue again and again. One of her hands left the headboard and tangled in your hair. The soft sounds she made above you grew fuller, more open.

“Fuck—” she breathed, hips stuttering. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t. You sealed your mouth around her clit and sucked in steady pulses, the way that always unraveled her, while your tongue kept working underneath. Dana’s thighs began to tremble. Her weight settled heavier on your face as her rhythm broke. You could feel her getting close—the way she tightened, the way her breath turned ragged and uneven.

“I’m—” she tried, but the rest of the sentence dissolved into a broken sound.

Her hips jerked once, twice, then pressed down hard as she came. The first wave hit her with a sharp cry. You kept your mouth on her through it, licking her through every pulse, every tremble, until her thighs shook and she finally had to lift up just enough to breathe.

Dana stayed hovering above you for another few seconds, catching her breath. Then she shifted down until she was straddling your waist again. Her hands came up to cup your face—thumbs brushing over the slickness still coating your mouth and chin—and she leaned in.

“Good girl,” she murmured.

The praise landed in your stomach. Before you could answer she kissed you, tasting herself on your tongue. One hand slid into your hair, holding you there while she licked into your mouth like she wasn’t done claiming it yet. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were still dark, still focused.

She sat up straighter, naked and flushed, and looked down at you with clear intent.

“Get the strap,” she said. “Put it on me.”

You blinked, still a little dazed. “On you?”

Dana’s mouth curved—small, sharp, and certain.

“On me,” she repeated. “I want to fuck you with it.”

She rolled off you just enough to give you room to move, then settled back against the headboard, bare thighs parted, watching you with that same quiet command she’d been holding all night.

“Go on,” she said softly.

You slid off the bed and went to the closet.

The harness and the cock she preferred—purple, medium, slightly curved, the one that always made her breath catch. You grabbed both, along with the small bottle of lube, and came back.

Dana watched you the entire time, still leaning against the headboard, thighs parted, the flush on her chest not yet faded.

You knelt between her legs on the mattress and worked in silence for a moment: settling the harness around her hips, tightening the straps until it sat snug, then sliding the cock into place. Your fingers brushed the soft skin of her lower stomach as you adjusted everything. When you finished, the silicone jutted out from her body.

You sat back on your heels and looked up at her. Mouth suddenly dry.

The earlier intensity was still there, but you needed to be sure.

“Hey,” you said quietly, resting a hand on her thigh. “You still okay? We can slow down or stop if it’s too much.”

Dana’s expression softened. She reached down and covered your hand with hers, giving it a small squeeze.

“I’m okay,” she said. Her voice was steady. “I need this. I want you.” She tugged you closer by the wrist until you were kneeling up between her legs again. “Come here.”

She kissed you once, slower this time—reassuring, warm—before the heat started to build behind it again.

“I’m sure,” she murmured against your mouth. “On all fours for me.”

You obeyed, turning and settling on your hands and knees. The position left you exposed. Behind you, you heard a satisfied moan and the soft click of the lube bottle, then the slick sound of Dana stroking the cock once, twice, coating it.

She didn’t push in right away.

Instead, one of her hands stroked down your spine while the blunt head of the strap dragged through your soaked folds, teasing. You started to shake, pussy pulsing around nothing. She rubbed her cock over your clit in lazy circles, then pushed just the tip inside before pulling back again. You rocked back, trying to take more, and earned a warning sound from her.

“Stay still,” Dana said. “You don’t get to rush this.”

She kept teasing—sliding the cock through your wetness, pressing in, then withdrawing, over and over—until your arms were trembling and soft, frustrated noises kept catching in your throat.

“Please, need you to fuck me. Please.” Only when you were properly desperate did she finally line up and push in, letting you adjust until she was buried to the hilt.

You both exhaled at the same time.

Dana’s hands settled on your hips, gripping hard enough that you knew there would be marks later. She gave you a few deep, measured thrusts—slow enough that you felt the thick stretch, the way the cock filled you so completely it stole your breath.

Then her palm cracked across your ass, sharp enough to sting.

You gasped.

“That’s for earlier,” she said, her strokes already building force.

Another spank landed on the other side, followed by a brutal snap of her hips that drove the cock to the hilt. The pace she set after that was relentless—long, powerful thrusts that rocked you forward on the bed. Every time she bottomed out, the base of the harness ground against her own clit; you could hear it in the way her breath hitched, in the low moans, the involuntary sounds she started making between words. The knowledge that she was getting off on fucking you only made the coil in your stomach tighter.

“Fuck, you take it so well,” Dana groaned, one hand fisting in your hair and pulling just enough to arch your back. “Look at you. Soaking the sheets already. You needed this just as bad as I did, didn’t you?”

“Yes—” you managed, voice breaking as she slammed into you again. The sounds in the room, absolute sin. The stretch was overwhelming in the best way; every thrust dragged against the spongy spot that made you tremble. Your stomach tightened, not sure how much longer you were gonna hold.

She spanked you once more, harder, and the sharp heat of it mixed with the deep, perfect fullness until your thighs started to shake. “Gonna make you come on my cock.”

“Fuck, p-please, going to come. Please.

The words broke apart as Dana’s rhythm turned fully punishing—fast, deep, relentless. Each thrust punched soft, helpless sounds out of you. She kept talking, voice rough and filthy, telling you how wet you were, how good you felt stretched around her, how the base of the harness rubbed her clit every single time she buried herself inside you. The need between you wound tighter and tighter until you stopped trying to do anything but take it. You stopped fighting the urge to lead, stopped thinking, and simply let Dana’s body and voice and hands take over completely.

Your arms shook. The pressure built so fast it almost scared you—fullness and heat and the sharp sting of her hand still lingering on your ass all crashing together. Dana felt it. She drove into you harder, one hand still fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.

“That’s it—come for me,” she ordered, voice breaking on the edges. “Let me feel you, baby.”

You shattered.

The orgasm ripped through you in hard, full-body waves, pussy clenching tight around her cock as you cried out into the sheets. Your arms giving out. Dana fucked you straight through it, never slowing, chasing her own end now that she’d pulled yours from you.

“Fuck—yes—” she gasped, hips slamming forward in short, desperate strokes. The grind of the harness against her clit finally tipped her over. She came with a broken moan, burying herself in you as her thighs trembled and her weight slumped over your back. You felt every pulse of it in the way she shook, in the tight, involuntary rolls of her hips as she rode the last of it out inside you.

Dana stayed draped over you for another few breaths, still trembling. Then she carefully pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you both hiss.

She unbuckled the harness with quick, practiced movements and tossed it toward the foot of the bed to deal with later. The second it was gone she was gathering you up, guiding you down onto your side and curling around you from behind.

One arm slid under your neck. The other wrapped around your middle, palm open and warm against your stomach. Her legs tangled with yours.

“Are you ok?” She pressed soft, lingering kisses to the back of your shoulder, your neck, the damp hair at your temple while the two of you just breathed.

You nodded. Slowing your breathing even more as you settled into her warmth and silence.

“It’s been a while since you wanted to take control like that.”

Dana’s hand kept stroking circles over your skin. She didn’t answer right away.

You turned your head just enough to glance back at her. Taking a moment to study her, you worried if you should even mention what was still unsaid. “Tell me about Melissa?”

The name landed between you like a stone. Dana’s whole body tensed. The rhythm of her hand on your stomach stuttered, then stopped. She stayed quiet for several long seconds, forehead resting against the back of your shoulder, breath warm but no longer steady.

Finally she exhaled, the sound heavy.

“Mel grew up in the same neighborhood,” she began, voice low. “Same block, almost. Her family’s house was three doors down from mine. We started hanging out when we were fourteen—same bus stop, same corner store, same group of kids who stayed out too late in the summer. She was loud even then. Always talking, always laughing, always dragging me into something I probably shouldn’t have been doing. I was the quieter one. She balanced it out.”

Her fingers flexed slightly against your skin as the memories settled in.

“By sixteen we were inseparable. We’d sit on her front steps for hours after dark, sharing cigarettes we weren’t supposed to have, talking about everything and nothing. She told me about the boys who tried to talk to her at school. I told her about the ones who never did. We practiced driving in her uncle’s old Buick when no one was looking. She was terrible at parallel parking. I was worse at not laughing at her for it.”

Dana went quiet for a moment, then continued.

“The summer we turned nineteen everything shifted. We started going to parties more—house parties, the bar that didn’t check IDs very hard, once or twice a club downtown that played music loud enough you couldn’t think. We’d drink cheap beer and worse whiskey. Dance with whoever asked. Watch each other across the room. I started noticing the way she looked at girls when she thought no one was paying attention. She started noticing the same thing about me.”

Her voice softened, almost reluctant.

“One night we ended up on the roof of her house after a party, both of us a little too drunk, legs hanging over the edge. She asked if I’d ever kissed a girl. I said no. She said she hadn’t either. Then she just… leaned over and did it. It was clumsy and we both laughed after. Then we did it again without laughing.”

You felt her breathe in slowly.

“After that it was easy for a while. Really easy. We still went out, still partied, still drank too much, but now there was this current underneath everything. We’d leave places early and end up in the backseat of someone’s car or on the old couch in her basement. It was fun. Messy. We never called it anything serious out loud, but we kept choosing each other. She’d show up at my window at one in the morning. I’d find excuses to walk past her house. We spent whole weekends tangled up in sheets that smelled like smoke and her perfume, talking about nothing important and touching like we had all the time in the world.”

Dana’s arm tightened around you almost unconsciously.

“It lasted maybe seven months. Then her uncle walked into the bar one night—some dive we thought was safe—and caught us kissing near the jukebox. He didn’t yell. He just looked at her like she’d broken something, then walked back out. The next day she was different. Quieter. She started canceling plans. Said she needed space. When I finally pushed her on it she told me she didn’t know if she could ever come out. That it was the eighties, that both of our families were religious, that she could already feel the way people would look at her. She said she loved being with me but she was scared of what it would cost.”

The silence that followed was heavier.

“I tried to wait,” Dana said. “I told her we didn’t have to decide anything right away. But she kept pulling back. Then one week she just stopped answering. Her mother told me she was ‘staying with family out of town’ when I went by the house. A few months later I heard through someone else that she’d gotten married. Quick courthouse thing. Some guy from her cousin’s labor union.”

Dana’s voice had gone flat by the end.

“It broke my heart,” she admitted quietly. “Worse than I expected. I didn’t handle it well. Drank too much for a while. Threw myself into becoming a nurse. Eventually I met my ex-husband and told myself it was time to be practical. We got married. I tried to make it fit. We hadn’t seen each other in decades until today. I didn’t expect it. It’s been twenty years, maybe more. I honestly thought I’d never see her again.”

The room stayed still except for the sound of your breathing and the distant city noise outside the window.

You turned carefully in her arms so you could look at her. Dana’s eyes were tired, the usual focus softened by everything she’d just dragged up.

“I thought you’d like her,” you said softly. “When I first saw her today. The way she was with that kid. The way she looked. I thought… she’d be your type.”

Dana’s mouth twitched, something complicated and almost sad moving across her face. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek with the backs of her fingers.

“In another lifetime, maybe,” she said.

She pulled you closer again, tucking her face into the curve of your neck the way she did when the world felt like too much. You held her, one hand stroking slowly up and down her bare back, and neither of you spoke for a long time after that.

The past sat heavy between you. All those years of something easy and bright that had been cut short so abruptly—it made your chest ache for the version of Dana who had been left behind by it.

“I’m sorry,” you said eventually, voice soft against her hair. “That sounds… really lonely. Having it end like that.”

Dana’s hand kept moving slowly up and down your back.

“It was a long time ago,” she murmured.

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

She was silent for a few seconds, then gave a small nod against your neck. You felt her breathe in, steadying herself.

“I love you,” she said. “You know that, right?”

You pulled back just enough to look at her. Dana’s eyes were tired, but they were steady when they met yours.

“I know,” you answered. “I love you too.”

She brushed her thumb along your cheekbone, the same gentle way she always did when she needed the contact.

“Today was just a terrible run-in,” she said. “That’s all. I wasn’t prepared to see her. It caught me off guard. But it doesn’t change anything here.” Her hand settled over your heart, warm and certain. “This is what I want. You are what I want.”

You leaned in and kissed her, tender and warm. Dana kissed you back the same way.

When you settled down again she pulled the sheet up over both of you and tucked herself against your side, head on your shoulder. The apartment was quiet. Outside, the city kept moving the way it always did.

Whatever had cracked open at the health fair was still there, but for tonight it could wait.

You held her a little tighter and let the day end.

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist: @melschemmentitties, @oxt3n, @noprophet, @femmefatalexx, @sonotsimba, @luchmmenti96

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