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janeyseymour · 3 months

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hii!! im hoping you’re taking requests rn and if you aren’t it’s okay, but i really wanted to request this just incase you are taking them..

a melissa x reader where r takes mel home for a family reunion (they’ve been dating for a while and readers family is dying to meet mel). the readers mom has always been a bit uncertain about mel and a argument happens between the reader and their mom.. melissa (the overprotective amazing gf that she is) steps in to help the reader and stands up for her.

Hi! I took a few creative liberties here, I hope that's okay! Buckle up because this one is a lil angsty... oopsies!

Family Dynamics

WC: ~3.5k

“Amore,” Melissa sighs as she pulls on her signature leather jacket. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“There is everything to be worried about,” you huff as you grab the hors d’oeuvres that that the two of you were assigned to bring to this family dinner. “They might be excited to meet you, but my mother can be… a lot. And she’s pretty… judgmental.”

“It’s nothin’ I can’t handle,” she tries to assure you. “Take a deep breath. It’s all gonna be okay.”

You do as she says, and then you bite your lip. “They also don’t know that we… that we’re an age gap couple.”

“Oh,” she frowns slightly. “Didn’t want to tell them that you’re with an old lady?”

“You know it isn’t like that,” you sigh. “It’s that I knew if I told my mom before she met you, she would already have thoughts about you, and you wouldn’t get a chance. It would be game over.”

“For me or for you?”

“Both of us,” you sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

You pull into the driveway of your childhood home, and Melissa looks over at you. “Hun, it’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“Can we just sit here for a few minutes? I need a couple of minutes to get my bearings.”

“You just tell me when you’re ready,” she tells you as you lean forward and put your head between your knees. She rubs your back soothingly. When you’ve given her the okay, she hops out of the car, opens the back seat to grab the appetizers, and then makes her way around to your side of the car. She opens the car door for you as she always does.

“It’s all going to be okay,” she tells you quietly. “And if you feel that we should leave, we can. But the longer we hold this off, the worse it’s going to be for us.”

“You’re right,” you mumble as you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb out of the car.

“It took you long enough,” your mother opens the door after you knock once. “I watched the two of you pull in ten minutes ago.”

“I needed a couple minutes, mom,” you sigh as you hug her.

“You act like I’m a monster,” your mother rolls her eyes before releasing you. She looks Melissa up and down. “And you are?”

“Mom,” you scold her.

“What?”

“This is my girlfriend, Melissa,” you introduce your girlfriend. “She’s a second grade teacher at the school with me.”

“I still can’t believe you became a school teacher,” your mother mumbles. Then she really looks at the redhead. “You didn’t tell me about…” she gestures between the two of you.

“Because it doesn’t matter?” you ask her. “Why should it matter? I love her, she loves me, and we’re-”

“You love her?” your mom raises a brow.

“I do,” you tell your mother. “And you’re going to play nice tonight, right?”

She nods, although she continues to look over Melissa.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kristen,” your girlfriend says cordially, and you can feel the way that she’s squeezing you hand. She’s silently telling you that it’s taking everything in her to be kind to your mother.

“It’s Mrs. Y/N,” your mother bites out. “Well, come in, I suppose. Do you want a glass of wine? I don’t have to worry about serving an underage like I usually do with Y/N’s girlfriends.”

“Where’s Dad?” you cut in before Melissa can say anything- you know the age gap is a bit of a sore subject for her.

“He’s in the garage fixing his car,” your mother tosses over her shoulder as she heads for the kitchen.

“We’re going to say hi to Dad,” you pull Melissa away from your mother and head for the garage.

As you enter the garage, your dad’s head pops out from under the hood of his car. “There’s my girl,” he grins as he wipes his hands on his jeans.

“Hi, Dad,” you grin right back. You hug him tightly.

He wipes his hands again on a towel before hugging you right back. As he releases you, he glances over at Melissa, staring at his car.

“You must be Melissa,” he chuckles. “Y/N mentioned that you would be gawking over my car.”

“I am,” the redhead takes her eyes off the car to give your father a firm handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Y/N.”

“Oh, none of that shit,” he laughs a hearty laugh. “You met my wife first, didn’t you?” he asks with a knowing look. “John.”

“Nice to meet you, John,” Melissa replies back, and you can tell that she’s a little less tense in the presence of your father. “That’s one nice car you got there.”

“It was my first,” he grins as he looks over his challenger. “I try to keep it in as nice a condition as possible, but right now it’s making a couple of funny noises. So I’m trying to figure out what’s going on and what parts I need to order to get it right again.”

“If you want, I know a guy,” Melissa offers with her signature smirk.

“I just might take you up on that offer,” your dad smiles. “You know anything about cars?”

“Enough,” she says with a shrug.

“You wanna help me look at it and have a beer?”

“You got Yuengling?” she asks.

You father practically beams. He nudges you with his elbow. “I like this one already.”

“I do too,” you grin. “While you two gawk over the car, I’m going to check if Mom needs any help in the kitchen… behave, you two.”

You kiss Melissa’s cheek softly before heading back inside, and you can already hear those two laughing about cars. You knew they would get along.

“Need any help with-” you start to ask, but your mother whips around.

“When the hell were you going to tell me that your girlfriend is practically my age?!”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” you shrug as you pick up a carrot and start shredding it for your mother. “She’s a great woman, and you would see that if you stopped judging people at a first glance.”

“It’s human instinct!” your mother argues. “That’s what we all do!”

“All I’m saying is,” you sigh. “Give her a chance. I love her. She’s a hell of a lot better than most of the girls I’ve brought home before.”

“When are you just going to admit that this whole ‘I like women’ thing is just a phase?”

“Mom,” you groan. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you: it isn’t a phase. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always been a lesbian, and I always will be.”

“We’ll see,” your mother sighs. “I’m holding out hope.”

“Dad’s fine with it,” you roll your eyes. “I wish you would come to terms with it too.”

The two of you finish prepping the meal in silence. You can hear your father and Melissa laughing loudly out in the garage as they try to fix the car. Then they’re quiet, and you get nervous. That’s never good- it definitely means they’re plotting something. Your dad’s head pokes into the house.

“Red and I are gonna take ol’ Bets for a spin,” he announces. “Smalls, you in?”

You look to your mom nervously, and she’s glaring at your girlfriend through the small crack in the door. “I really would rather you stay here. Dinner is almost ready.”

“Aw, c’mon Kris,” your dad sighs. “We’ll be back before dinner… we just want to see if we got it to stop humming!”

“You’re doing the dishes afterwards,” your mother tells him with a roll of her eyes. She pours herself another glass of wine.

“Yes, dear,” your dad says automatically.

“C-can I go?” you ask your mother hesitantly.

“C’mon, hun,” you hear Melissa’s voice.

You look at your mother again, who is giving you a warning look.

“Oh, Kris,” your father tries to get her to ease up. “She’s been working hard, she helped you, let her spend some time with her old man and her girlfriend.”

“If you all aren’t back by the time dinner is on the table, we’re going to have issues,” Kristen tells you all.

You practically bolt back out to the garage. “God, I don’t know how you do it, Dad,” you grumble once you close the door behind you.

“We make a good team for the most part,” your dad shrugs. “And all I have to say is: happy wife, happy life.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Melissa chuckles as she opens the car door for you.

“You take the front,” you tell her. “I ride in this all the time.”

“Thank you, hun,” the redhead kisses your cheek as she slides in. You climb into the back as your dad gets in on the driver’s side.

“So, how long do we have?” your father asks.

“About forty minutes,” you sigh. “Please use the whole time. Mom is getting on me again.”

“About?”

“Can we not talk about it?” you request softly. Melissa turns and gives you a concerned look. “It’s whatever. I’m fine, I promise.”

“If that’s what you want,” your dad tells you. “So… Y/N’s told us a bit about you, but what else is there to know?”

You half expect Melissa to not answer or be as short as possible. She hates talking about herself. But instead, she starts to tell your father about herself. About Abbott, about the things that she likes to cook, how the two of you met, what you two like to do together… and it’s refreshing to see her open up. You find yourself holding onto her every word, despite the fact that you already know all of it.

“Now,” your dad turns to look at the redhead once he hits a stoplight. “I have to ask…”

“Dad,” you groan. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“I’m a dad. It’s my job to embarrass you,” he quips. “Why my daughter?”

That gets Melissa going. Her favorite thing to talk about is you and why she chose you. By the time she’s finished rambling, your father is giving her a knowing smile. And that brings you back to the house.

“Well, that was a nice drive,” your father smiles. “And it even looks like we got the car to stop humming… well done, Schemmenti.” Your girlfriend just gives him a head nod and a smirk. He heads in a minute later, leaving you and the redhead to your own devices for a couple minutes.

“So?” you ask Melissa nervously as you get out of the car.

“Your dad and I get along great,” she tells you as she too climbs out of the car. “I can see a lot of him in you.”

“That’s what everyone says,” you chuckle. “I got my dad’s personality and my mom’s looks.”

“He was telling me how the two of you used to play catch or try to fix his car together… you sounded like a pretty cute kid.”

You shrug. “If I was with my dad, it meant I wasn’t with my mom.”

“Y/N! Melissa! Dinner!” your mom whips the door open, and she glares when she sees the two of you leaning against your father’s car- your head resting on Melissa’s shoulder.

Dinner is tense. Your dad makes it much less tense, but you can feel your mother’s eyes staring at the two of you as if you’re about to burst into flames at any second for being in love with each other. You hear the way she criticizes everything you’ve put your life into- your job, Melissa, even stupid stuff like the sweater you chose to wear to come to dinner tonight. Your mother gets her digs in about the two of you as an item while your father tries to soften the blow and get her to back down. She doesn’t and finally… you’ve had enough. She’s always been merciless when it comes to your partners, but she has the added fuel of Melissa being a significant amount of years older than you, and she’s just relentless.

“We’re done,” you throw your napkin down on the table. “I’m done. C’mon, Mel.”

“Oh, here we go again,” your mother rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “The drama that comes with having you for a-”

“The drama that comes with having you for a mother!” you don’t bite your tongue. “You’re the one who asked me to bring around Melissa, and then you have nothing but an absolute shit attitude! I’m sick of you criticizing every fucking move I make! So, I’m done! We’re leaving, and don’t expect us to-”

“You’re the one who brought around a cradle robber!” your mother spits out.

“Kristen,” your dad tries to cut in.

“Oh my fuckin’ God, Mom!” you shoot out of your chair.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein!” your mother scolds you. And you would usually back down, but not tonight. You’re at your breaking point, after all of these years.

“I’ll say whatever the hell I damn well please!” you snarl. “I am a grown ass woman, and I don’t have to take any more of this shit! I’m done!” You grab your bag. “C’mon, Mel.”

Your girlfriend has wide eyes, and she looks terrified. You’re usually a quiet, mellow, laid back woman… she’s never seen you with such a fire in your eyes. “Hun?”

“I said let’s go!” you bark. Before she can reply, you turn on your heel and head out, slamming the door as you go.

Almost instantly, your father is out of his chair and following you. “Y/N!” he calls after you. “Sweetheart!”

That leaves your mother and Melissa sitting at the dinner table together. Now it’s your girlfriend’s turn to have a fire grow in her eyes.

“I don’t know where the hell you think you get away speaking to your daughter like that,” the redhead growls out as she grabs her bag. “Y/N is a wonderful woman with a great head on her shoulders, she is one of the best teachers we have at Abbott, and she has a heart of gold. If you can’t get over the fact that she loves who she loves, then that’s your loss.”

“What the hell do you know?” your mother folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been around the block a time or two,” your girlfriend says lowly. “I know a good mother when I see one, and I know a mother who is about to lose her daughter when all she can do is criticize every aspect of her daughter’s life. You’re going to lose her, and she might not regret it, but you will.”

And with that, your girlfriend leaves your mother to sit at the dinner table alone and let her words sink in. Melissa comes outside to see your father embracing you as you cry gently into his shoulder.

“Hey,” your girlfriend whispers as she sets a gentle hand on your shoulder. Her and your father catch each others’ eyes for a few seconds, and they both silently convey how sad they are that this is how dinner ended up.

“I- I’m sorry,” you hiccup out as you turn to hug her. “I’m so sorry.”

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, hun,” she whispers as she takes you into her arms and strokes your hair. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

You nod shakily as you turn to face your father again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper to him as you practically fall into his arms. “I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I’m sorry she’s being like this again,” he whispers. “Get home, have a glass of wine, and let me try to talk to her, okay? I’ll see what I can do”

“Y-yeah,” you mumble. “Okay. Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” your dad kisses your temple and lets you go. He makes his way back into the house, and you can hear him telling your mother that they need to talk. Good lord. This was not how dinner was supposed to go at all. Although looking back on it, you suppose you don’t know how else it would go. Dinners with significant others usually go this way.

You had driven over, but with the emotional state you’re in now, Melissa guides you to the passenger side and helps you in before climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling off.

“I don’t know how your father ended up with her,” your girlfriend tries to joke. She can tell that you aren’t in the mood though, so she shuts her mouth. She has a gentle hand on your thigh, and she’s humming softly, knowing it calms you down. Once you can finally breathe again and the tears subside, she looks over at you.

“You wanna talk about it?” she offers.

“I- I’m sorry that ended in explosives,” you apologize.

“That was like a piece of cake compared to my family, she chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“She’s always been like that,” you whisper. Melissa turns down the radio and gestures for you to continue if you want.

“From the start, I’ve been a failure in her eyes,” you tell her quietly. “I was too quiet, I was too weird or silly… basically anything I did that was appropriate for my age was wrong. As I got older, it got worse. She criticized the things I liked to do, telling me it was a waste of time. I was too fat, and then I was too thin. She didn’t like my hair, she didn’t like my clothes. Any thing that I did was just wrong. And then,” you sniffle. “I told my parents I thought I didn’t like men. Dad… he was fine with it. You met him- he’s about as easygoing as it gets. But Mom… she was furious.”

“Oh, honey,” Melissa sighs sadly.

“I got the ‘It’s just a phase’ talk about a hundred times. The first time I brought home a girlfriend in high school, she about flipped her shit. That was the last time I saw Anna. Because with Dad away for a conference, Mom took it upon herself to drive me to a conversion therapy place.” You shake your head, remembering what that had been like. “When Dad came home the next week, he was furious. He drove up and got me out of there as fast as he could, apologizing over and over again for not being able to stop her- that he had no idea she was going to do that. That was the last time my dad took a business trip until I had moved out of the house- he was terrified it was going to happen again.”

“Amore, I’m so sorry,” Melissa whispers.

“When senior year rolled around, I told them I didn’t want to go for engineering like Mom wanted… I wanted to be a teacher. That was like World War three broke out. My parents almost got divorced over that one… Dad supported me, saying that I was making a good choice doing something I loved while Mom told me that I couldn’t have been a bigger disappointment to her.”

“You’re a great teacher- one of the best Abbott has,” your girlfriend tells you gently as she pulls into her driveway. “Your dad and I were talking about that earlier in the garage.”

“And that’s great that you guys think that…” you sigh, and your eyes fill with tears as you turn to look at Melissa. “But I… All I want is my mother’s approval. I want her love and affection. Do you know how shitty it is that the one person who is supposed to love me the most, the person I grew inside of, can’t stand a single aspect about me?” A tear falls down your face, and Melissa is quick to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb.

It absolutely breaks the redhead’s heart to hear those words tumble out of your mouth.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers.

After a bit, the two of you make your way into her house, and you curl up on the couch together. You fall asleep to her heartbeat and her fingers delicately combing through your hair while the two of you watch your comfort movie. As she’s sitting there, your phone lights up on the coffee table in front of her. It’s a text from your father, and then a second text comes through from your mother.

I talked to Mom. I’m sorry for tonight. If it means anything at all, I already love Mel. She’s a good fit for you, the text from your dad reads.

We need to talk, is all your mom sends.

Deciding now is not the time for you to see that text, you had only just calmed down after a second round of tears, she flips your phone over with her foot. She shakes you gently.

“Amore?” she whispers. “I think maybe it’s time for us to head up to bed.”

You groan awake but nod. “Bed. Need you tonight.”

“I know,” Melissa whispers. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. Through it all.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic

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catfern · 10 months

Text

cowboy!ellie headcanons

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

music: roses are falling - orville peck

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fingering (briefly), drunk sex-ish, guns??, yearning and just sappy shit mainly im in a vulnerable state

an: this is shit brainrot bc i've played too much rdr2 and i want ellie to let me ride her cowgirl style. this took me for-fucking-ever because i got acrylics and dropped my wpm from 108 to 67. also if i put out a poll asking what fic to post next would people vote

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✷ cowboy!ellie having the most pornographic, velvet-laced southern accent known to man. drawling out words in a whisper, that reassured wit sitting in her throat with a lopsided smirk. she’s such a tease, knowing how it gets to you, that ‘c’mon, sweetheart, you gonna make me wait f’you?’ after she trots ahead, glancing back at you under the wide brim of her hat. please, trying to make eye contact with ellie after a long day of riding (ifykyk), seeing just a glance of the veins in her neck, beads of sweat sitting in the little crevices as she leans down to her saddle bag. god, her hands!! and she looks at you, that knowing impatience and ‘okay there, darlin’?, and you can’t look at her, your head swimming and drowning in the molasses of her voice and too focused on the up, down, up, down, up trot of your horse.

✷ setting up camp for the night, bed mats a good distance away from each other, and you wake up, fire dying, moon high, and ellie is still awake, hands covered in dirt and ash and rust from her old revolver that she cleans too occasionally. the gentle scratch of charcoal on parchment, her body hunched over, protective like a creature, and when you call out to her, she TOSSES her journal into the dirt like it burned to touch. if the moon wasn’t so faint, you’d see the uncharacteristic blush fleeting across her cheeks, but too quickly, she tells you to go back to sleep, she’s just staying up to take care of the fire. you listen in a haze, and ellie tears out the five, maybe 6 pages?? of rough sketches, harsh lines etching out your body, your smile, your eyes, and stamps them into the cooling embers of the campfire.

✷ if we’re talking historically accurate cowboys, ellie is definitely the type to believe in dinosaurs!! it’s this new, fresh, science fad and everybody laughs at her for it, cause omg?? giant lizards?? nah!! but ellie is so adamant, reading every paper and pamphlet on the subject that she can get her hands on (assuming she can even read lets be so real), and she’ll tell you about it! small, reluctant meanders from more important topics, at first, but you’re kind and you listen to words either of you barely understand, and sure it’s a little bit boring, but she’s happy, and for some reason she makes it incredibly dynamic, crash coursing you on lizards that evolved (a buzz word in all her pamphlets) into BIGGER lizards.

✷ cowboy!ellie, the horse whisperer. she doesn’t teach you to ride, but you’ve never had a way with horses, cantankerous and rough, so you need a lil bit of assistance. ellie will take the lead, letting you rock behind her on your horse, your arms draped around her like common occurrence, and she’ll turn, ‘see? be gentle, she’ll listen. you’re a team, y’know?’

✷ ‘she just likes you more than me.’

✷ her laugh is boisterous, loud, it sounds like it belongs amongst the hills and caverns, like wind against rocks, ‘no one likes me more than you, flower.’

✷ one day, you’re just passing through a small town, nothing more than a few shops and scattered farm houses, and ellie spies an outlaw poster, poorly tacked to the community bulletin board. it’s her, badly sketched, sure. her chin is way too big, nose a bit askew, but it’s definitely her. and you laugh as she presses you frantically, ‘i don’t really look like this? do i?’ and it’s got some ridiculous nickname that definitely over-inflates her ego, ‘ellie 'longshot’ williams (no one has called her that ever) that she’ll parade it around like a medal

✷ ‘aw, love, do you need some help shootin’? don’t call me long shot for nothin’.’

✷ you’d get a bit vulgar, a bit defensive because, yeah, maybe ellie is actually good at shooting, and you could benefit from her teaching. but that fucking nickname, lording over your head with that lilt in her voice, and the childish, goading smile, you’d tell her to shove it somewhere the sun don’t shine and just pray luck guides your bullet.

✷ your now-so-serious scowl eats at her, so ellie has to swallow her boyish pride and shut up, simply falling behind you. gently tapping your shin with her boot to get you to adjust your stance, her hands stretching out over yours to feel out the barrel of the foreign pistol. they’re rough, calloused, unmade for this sort of gentle gesture, but you welcome the heat that they give. with a soft push and pull, like a tide she moves your fingers, your hands, to hold the gun well. her voice is a whisper as she instructs, ‘don’t hold it so loosely. stronger grip helps aim.’

✷ she’s shaking in her boots. a moment like this, tender, with you is scarcely shared. the closeness burns her chest as she feels you breathe against her, skittish but assured, ellie’s finger snaking around yours to settle on the trigger. you go to fire, and the recoil sends you backwards in a shock, ellie having to move her hands from the gun to your waist to keep you steady. you laugh something coarse, leaning back into her without a thought. adrenaline intimacy.

✷ ‘okay, maybe y’need a few more lessons before you get it right.’ it’s a selfish thought, but it cements ellie in that moment, with you just in her reach, and her revolver. she’d clean it for you.

✷ cowboy!ellie doing stupid shit, like taking longer detours to show you the scenery, the stretching fields and great mountain waterfalls, stopping to pick wildflowers (she’s a sap), or taking the extra care to saddle up your horse for you, securing the girth and not letting you touch it because ‘i don’t need you slippin’ on me.’ she takes care of you, out on the road, it’s not an official thing, but you’re off limits.

✷ ellie is kind, but sex with her isn’t. the first time, she’s terribly drunk, playing away her night in a saloon, at a poker table (she’s losing), and you’re sat at the bar, wearing that, and it’s violently throwing her off her game, so she decides to make it known that your presence is an interruption. dragging you upstairs, she’s unkind. ‘you’re not helping my luck, looking like that.’

✷ ‘how do you need me, then?’

✷ she tastes like cigarette smoke, and bourbon, and she smells like the sleek of rain on dry dirt, and feeling her all over you is intoxicating, rough. she’s quick, her lips aren’t soft but rather, a grating possession on your skin, a feeling that swallows you, melts you down in the heat of her hands. she swears, a lot, it sounds like disbelief but really, it’s a bribe. a prayer. ‘dear god, give me this, let me have this, and i will be devout.’ it’s primal, something uncontrollable. drunk, it’s worse. she loses herself in the haze, becomes complete disregard, her fingers inside you without hearing you, just feeling you. lost in you and she keeps pounding into you simply because she’s enraptured by the feeling of you clenching around her.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams headcanons #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader

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