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paulsonslvr · 10 months

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5-year plan to win your heart. game 1. Melissa Schemmenti

Mastermind

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: Melissa creates a five year plan to win your heart.

Warnings: minor character death (non graphic), spiders 🥴

Notes: I love making up new Melissa-lore. It’s my favorite hobby. Hope you don’t mind that I made this a full length fic. Enjoy, loves

Melissa Schemmenti knew a little something about wild animals.

She knew because of the orange kitten she had found under Nana's front porch that you can’t approach a wild thing so fast. She’d woken up to the sounds of him crying and jumped out of her sleeping bag on the living room floor to gaze out the window to find what had made the noise. Seeing nothing, she double checked that Nana was still dozing, her ceramic cup with her dentures inside still safely on her nightstand.

Melissa, still in her pink nightgown, had hijacked her papa’s old rubber boots since it had rained the night before, and crept out the front door. She listened quietly for the cries to fill the misty morning air and when it did she followed it to under the porch. The opening was small, barely large enough to fit her head through, but she did it anyway. Luckily, the summer before her uncle that had been in the Vietnam War had shown her how to do the very best army crawl.

Like the proper young woman her mother was so desperately trying to teach her how to be, Melissa rolled up the sleeves of her nightgown and crawled under her nana’s porch and dragged the terrified kitten through the packed dirt at the bottom until she got him loose. As soon as he saw an easy exit, the kitten had scratched and clawed its way out of Melissa’s arms.

Her nana woke up to a bloodied Melissa, leaning over her bed, her nightgown caked with mud and torn from the rotted edges of wood that created the opening under the porch, asking where she kept her bandaids. Still, Melissa isn’t sure who was more terrified or who screamed louder. Her nana, seeing her grandchild looking akin to the woman from the ring and the muddy footprints she’d trailed through the house, or Melissa, seeing her nana scream without any teeth in.

After recovering from her shock, Nana had helped Melissa clean the mud from the floorboards and under her fingernails, and listened to the tale of what had happened. Gently, as she swiped antiseptic over her cuts, Nana told Melissa about how when she was a young girl living in Italy’s mountainside, she’d befriended the wild horses.

Or so she thought.

One evening, Nana had stolen a few carrots from her mother’s fridge and had snuck out to the countryside to feed her horses. What she hadn’t realized was that there was a snake in the long grass, spooking the horses and almost trampling her in their haste to get away from the wretched creature.

Nana’s point, she said, was that wild animals will always be wild animals no matter how much we love them.

Melissa had understood.

That’s why, as an adult, when she found a stray dog outside the school after a late night of grading homework, she knew what to do.

Melissa dug up some of the vegetables from Barb and Jacob’s raised garden and left them in a pile near the dumpster where she’d seen the dog. She did the same every morning and night, always the first to arrive and the last to leave even through the cold winter months, until the senior dog, graying around the muzzle, allowed her to approach.

She secured a collar around her neck and walked her to her old beat up truck, and allowed her in the passenger seat. The dog listened to her “sit” and “stay” so well that Melissa knew this dog had been dumped or forgotten—not a wild thing, but someone’s. And if by how the dog scurried away from her at first, she had been someone’s who didn’t treat her very nicely. It was easy to get the two confused.

That’s why, when she first met you, she realized she would need a plan to win you over. A five year plan to be exact. Melissa would need to earn your trust and not spook you.

She had known a new teacher had been hired over the summer, but you two hadn’t run into each other while decorating your rooms for the upcoming school year.

One day, the week before the open house, Melissa was busy creating a seating chart for her new students when she heard a crash closely followed by a shout of “Fuck! Shitballs! Dammit!” coming from across the hall in a voice she didn’t recognize.

After stealthily removing her bat from its spot taped to the underside of her desk, Melissa popped her head out of the hallway to search for an intruder. After finding none, she stalked her way across the linoleum and into the open door across from her.

And there you were, standing on top of your desk, overlooking the shattered stapler across the floor. “What the hell happened here?” Melissa asked, lowering her weapon. You refused to turn and face her, your finger shakily pointing across the room near the metallic remnants of the stapler.

“There,” you shrieked, taking another step back. “Get it! Quick,” you demanded.

“Get what?” Melissa snorted. “Are you scared of a stapler? They’re not that scary if you keep your fingers out of that little space where the staples come out.” She moved farther into the room, stopping beside the desk.

“Haha, very funny. Now can you please get the spider?”

“Me? Why do I have to get it? It’s your classroom, your spider.” Melissa spun on her heel to leave, satisfied with the knowledge there wasn’t any crime being committed.

“Wait!” You turned your head in her direction for the first time, if only for a split second. “Can I at least use the bat?”

Intrigued, Melissa shoved a hand in her pocket and strode back over to your desk to hand you the Louisville Slugger. You grabbed it with a look of determination in your eyes and crouched down to rifle through your purse that hung on the back of your chair. A pair of safety glasses was promptly pulled from the depths of the bag and in a practiced movement you had them on and were jumping off the desk.

Melissa raised a brow. “You just carry those with you everywhere?”

Without turning back to her, you stalked the eight legged beast and responded. “You just carry a baseball bat with you everywhere?”

Fair point.

Not a second later, you started pummeling the tile with the bat, shards of stapler flying through the air as you continued. Melissa watched in equal parts horror and wonder as whatever insect had dared enter the room was obliterated by you swinging the bat above your head and to the floor and back again.

Eventually, you decided the spider was Most Definitely dead, and stopped, whipping the goggles off your face with your free hand and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Thanks,” you said simply, handing Melissa her weapon back. “Any idea if the janitor is around?” You pointed your thumb back towards the mess.

Melissa stood, blinking owlishly at you for a moment before realizing you had asked her a question. “Uh, yeah, Mr Johnson should be around here somewhere. I’ll page him for you.”

She rushed back to her own room for her walkie-talkie thinking, what a woman. She knew then and there she would do whatever it took to make you hers, and the five year plan was born.

Melissa started with making herself present wherever you were. She made sure she sat in the same row as you whenever there was a staff meeting, she traded Janine to have lunch duty the same week as you, even going as far as to change tables in the break room.

This caught Barbara’s attention. At first, the woman was miffed about Melissa seemingly avoiding her, but she waited and watched, gathering all the information before confronting her friend.

“So you have the hots for the new girl. When are you going to make a move?” She asked one night during their weekly poker game.

“Psh,” Melissa floundered, choking on her Dr Pepper. “I do not. Who said that? Did she say something?”

Barbara sighed, setting her cards on the green table face down and looking Melissa directly in the eye. “How long have we known each other? Don’t you dare lie to me. I’m running out of excuses to tell Janine as to why she can’t take over your seat.”

“Sorry,” Melissa smiled sheepishly, “I can come back,” she offered.

Barbara raised her hand to stop her. “No, no. I know when I’ve become second string. Just don’t invite her to poker nights without making sure she can handle it. I’m not teaching a newbie,” she warned.

Melissa scoffed. “What? There’s nothing going on between us, I swear.”

Barbara leaned in, eyeing her friend carefully. “Yes there is,” she said simply. “You’re not exactly well-versed in being subtle.”

“Fine,” Melissa acquiesced, and let Barbara in on her plan.

And if Barbara already knew, Melissa decided she needed to lay low for a while lest she scare you off. She went back to her old seat in the break room (much to Janine’s dismay), and kept her own lunch room rotation.

To her surprise, you pulled up a seat next to her and Barb, seamlessly inserting yourself into their conversation and never leaving. Melissa’s lips twitched up into a small smile and started in on the next part of her plan.

Now that you two were friendly, Melissa wanted to cement her place in your life, show you her good qualities. She began to bring you little treats each day, whether that was offering you a piece of gum, having an “extra” coffee from the barista, or being “too full” to eat the leftovers she brought for lunch.

But she didn’t stop there. She bought a can of Raid and stuffed it in the bottom drawer of your desk and made a concoction with peppermint oil to put in a spray bottle to keep the spiders out.

One morning, whilst spraying the edges of your classroom’s windows with the peppermint oil, you surprised her by showing up early.

“Melissa? What are you doing here?”

She’d never moved so fast in her life, spinning around and holding the spray bottle behind her back. “Oh, uh…,” she struggled to find a plausible excuse, “I thought your room had a bit of a draft and I was checking your windows for a crack.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, tossing your bag and your jacket haphazardly across your desk before making your way to her side. The closer you got to her, the more you smelled something. You leaned in close and sniffed. “Are you wearing a different perfume today? Something smells minty.”

Melissa swallowed at your close proximity and shook her head. “No, I—,” you cut her off by going behind her back and finding the spray bottle.

“Is this peppermint oil?” You asked, twisting the nozzle off to get a good smell of the liquid inside. “For the spiders?”

“Uh, yeah,” Melissa scratched at the back of her neck. “I wanted to make sure no other spiders got in here.”

Your inquisitive stare softened and you sat the bottle down on a nearby desk. “You, Melissa Schemmenti, are the sweetest person I know.”

She nearly pushed you against the wall and tasted your smile right then and there, but she reminded herself she was playing the long game here.

“Don’t let anyone else hear that, I have a reputation to uphold,” she said with her own matching smile. It was working.

Talking turned into hypothetical future plans turned into real plans when you tell her about the tickets you’d won to a Phillies game from calling in to a radio show. Melissa was ecstatic with the news, saying yes to going with you before the question was fully out of your mouth.

Melissa had shown you the best stand to get a hotdog from (the condiments were never watery and the buns always perfectly toasted), and bought you the best craft beer the stadium had to offer. She also insisted on returning the favor, taking you to an Eagles game the next month.

Going to games turned into invites to watch on each other’s couches turned into sleepovers turned into a full-fledged friendship. And suddenly those five years passed her by. It happened before Melissa even realized it had started.

She was completely and royally fucked. Her plan had worked well. Too well. Melissa was so good at being your friend that she became your best friend and got herself stuck in the dreaded friendzone. How was she supposed to get out of that and confess her true feelings?

Without a plan for the future, Melissa continued on.

When her dog died, you were her first call. No one loved Daisy like you did and Daisy loved you just the same.

You went to her house and you both cried together, huddled in each other’s arms on the floor of her dining room. You stayed until Melissa’s tears stopped and her breathing slowed before tucking her into bed. As you walked away, a manicured hand held onto yours, stopping you from making your exit.

That night you slept cuddled together, neither letting go.

In the morning, you’d made sure to text Barbara before work so everyone knew not to mention the death or to otherwise provoke the redhead.

In the week following, Melissa was noticeably more irritable than usual, stomping around, slamming cabinet doors, and even shattering a mug with how forcefully she threw it in the sink.

Of course, Jacob took it upon himself to inform everyone of the man’s history with canines, reaching back to before humans knew how to make a proper shelter.

When this didn’t work, Janine made the decision to have “Puppy Day” where the local pet adoption center brought some of their puppies to the school to encourage adoption and to give them some play time.

Neither made Melissa feel any better, and she was noticeably absent from the assembly.

With a quick word to Barbara, you slipped out of the auditorium doors and through the double doors leading to the kitchen to find the redhead sitting on the stoop near the garden. Instead of interrupting her, you quietly backed away and made your own plan.

That weekend, you showed up at her door dressed to the nines with a bouquet of flowers and a reusable grocery bag filled with supplies.

Melissa wearily opened the door, hair messy and a stained set of sweatpants on, and took in your appearance. “Oh shoot, is the prom tonight? I must’ve forgotten,” she said dryly, swinging the door open and allowing you to enter.

“C’mon, get dressed, we have things to do.”

She grumbled in response, flipping through the television channels instead. You set your things down on the kitchen table before stalking towards the walk-in closet of her bedroom. Hangers click together as you search for appropriate clothing for her to wear, flinging the acceptable pieces onto her bed.

“What are you doing?” Melissa questioned from the doorway, slouching against the doorframe. “I don’t really feel like going out tonight.”

“Oh, we’re not going out,” you assured her, moving to her vanity to search through her jewelry. “Now are you going to make yourself look presentable or am I gonna have to dress you?”

You looked up in time to see a look cross her face, the same one she gave you that first day after you smashed that spider to bits.

She reluctantly shoved herself from the doorway and trudged towards the bed. Relieved she listened without much argument, you handed her the jewelry and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Good choice. Don’t come out until you’re in your Sunday best,” you tossed over your shoulder and swung the door closed behind you.

When Melissa came out, you led her to the backyard where you had set everything up. There was a picture of the two of you with Daisy, surrounded in flowers. Beside it, you placed Daisy’s collar and leash as well as some of her favorite things.

“What’s all this?” Melissa questioned with a whisper, taking it all in.

“I thought Daisy deserved a proper goodbye,” you tangled your fingers with Melissa’s that dangled at her side, “she was an amazing dog and you gave her a beautiful life for her last years. She should get a beautiful send off too.”

Melissa’s eyes met yours, wide in disbelief and filled with tears.

You gave her an encouraging smile and went first. You brought an apple because whenever anyone ate one around Daisy, she would try jumping in their lap for a taste even though she was too big. You had her favorite brand of dog treats, peanut butter flavored, and stored them in the shoe box.

Melissa said her own words, filling the box with Daisy’s favorite toys and the stuffed rabbit she slept with every night. The two of you buried the box through the grief and slumped together on the couch with a bottle of wine.

Nothing was said for what felt like hours, the silence heavy with emotion. “You know,” Melissa started, startling you from your thoughts, “I don’t think anyone has ever cared about me the way you do.”

“Well, yeah, Mel, who else has been in love with you for the last five years?”

“Wait what?” Melissa sputtered, setting her glass of wine down and turning to you. “You can’t play jokes on me right now, that’s mean.”

Your brows furrowed. “I’m not joking. You seriously didn’t know?”

She stared blankly in response, taking it all in. “But…,” she started slowly, “I’ve been in love with you for the last five years. Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, taking another sip of your wine. “I had this whole big plan to make you fall for me. I guess it worked?”

Melissa gasped. “You had a plan? I had a plan. Are you seriously messing with me right now? How did you find out? Who put you up to this?”

Knowing no other way to prove your feelings to her, you grasped her head in your hands and leaned it, pressing your lips to hers. Her hand automatically found the small of your back, pressing your body closer to hers. All the passion that built between you over the past few years came out in the kiss, lips gliding across each other and tongues exploring anywhere they could reach.

Slowly, the kiss came to an end when you both had to breathe. “Fuck,” Melissa gasped under her breath, “seriously?” Green eyes found yours to search for the answer.

“Yeah,” you nodded as you got your breath back. Her fingers twitched where they were tangled in your hair and you couldn’t quite remember when they got there.

Melissa pulled you towards her again, urging you into her lap as she pressed your head back down to hers. The second kiss was faster paced and more intense, like Melissa thought you would run away the second it ended.

You didn’t and Melissa relaxed some. “I have to confess something,” she shifted her eyes from you. “I know you said you had a plan but it was all me. I knew from the very first day that I wanted you and I was going to get you. Do you hate me?”

“Mel,” you laughed, tucking your face into her neck. “Barbara told me a long time ago. Did you really think all of that was going to work?”

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