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queenimmadolla · 2 months

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.

Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”

“Wha’?”

“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.

While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.

Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.

The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.

Someone.

Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.

Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.

Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.

He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

NOW, 1989

“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.

When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.

You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.

You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.

So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

Your mother was murdered.

Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.

The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.

Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.

You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.

The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.

He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.

So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.

“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

It was a little odd, but you did.

When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.

You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.

“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”

Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.

“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”

You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.

“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”

Didn’t feel like it.

Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.

“And I can. Please, let me do this.”

You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.

You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.

Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”

You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, spill.”

Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”

This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.

“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.

“Steve Harrington.”

“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.

“Does he flirt with you?”

“No.”

“See him flirt with any girls?”

“Nope.”

“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

“He’s on the spectrum?”

Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

It got quiet for a few moments.

”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.

She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

“Reefer Rick?”

“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

Munson.

You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

“H-He’s your favorite…?”

“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.

“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.

“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

Maybe a drink would calm you down.

You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.

“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

Oh, shit.

Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

”Funny seeing you here.”

You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.

“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

“Oh.”

He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

OH, THANK FUCK.

“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

“Hey, Carol.”

Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.

“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

“Oopsie.”

But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.

Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.

You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.

Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

“Wall.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

“Great Wall of China.”

Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.

Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.

“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

“Does that feel good?”

You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”

Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.

She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.

His right arm was out, palm up.

He was waiting for you.

You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

“Sissy. . .”

“Sissy…”

“SISSY!”

You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.

What the hell?

“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.

You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

“Oh my god…”

“So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

“Ooh, your knees…”

You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.

“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.

“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.

“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.

You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

“THAT WE DO!”

You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

“Mm. White wine?”

It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

You shot him a glare.

“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.

You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

�� Then your eyes snapped open.

Oh, god. You were a loser.

After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.

“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

“Yes, we got a free soda!”

Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”

“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

“I bet you can.”

After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.

Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.

And it was coming from outside your front door.

You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.

You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

“Uuuhhhnng…”

This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.

“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”

You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.

You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

“Stop it!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Go away, I’m just a girl!”

The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.

On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.

You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.

Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”

He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Freak like me #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein inspo #Zombie!eddie munson #dead!eddie munson #undead!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #Steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x black!reader

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babysukiii · 2 months

Text

the rooms are all on fire (every time that you walk in)

// melissa has a thing for her new neighbor, but she refuses to let it go too far because of the age difference. though, the redhead might realize how deep her feelings go once it’s too late. //

warnings: insecure!melissa, reader is so painfully in love with melissa it’s hilarious, melissa is an idiot who can’t handle emotions, pining, mutual pining, jealous!reader, jealous!melissa, brief gary x melissa (they go on one date), reader is in her twenties.

melissa knows right away that she doesn’t like you. you’re too young, too loud, too perky, too nice. you had moved in across the hall from her a couple months ago, and had knocked on her door the same day you moved in. you had this big smile on your face, along with this large tupperware of brownies. though, in your defense it had not been a good day for melissa. her ex husband had just revealed he had an affair while they were still married, and even though she no longer loved joe, it still hurt.

“who the hell are you?” she asks, as soon as she swings the door open. your smile doesn’t even falter, and it’s the most annoying thing melissa has ever seen. “i’m y/n! i just moved into the apartment across the hall. i just wanted to introduce myself and give you these.” your western accent indicated you were far from home, and the positive energy radiating off of you only seemed to put melissa in a worse mood than she already was. you hand her the tupperware of brownies, and she scowls.

“we don’t really introduce ourselves to neighbors ‘round here. your lucky you didn’t knock on 402’s door. he’s a creep.” she mutters as she takes the tub of sweets. “oh. thanks for the warning.” you joke, and you tilt your head to side, “i never got your name.” you add and she snorts. “cause i never gave it, kid.” she responds curtly before shutting the door right in your face.

that was your first impression of melissa. it was enough to make any sane person steer clear of her… but you weren’t necessarily a sane woman. you were usually up before eleven every morning to go on a run or do a small workout. one morning you wake up extra early, and catch the redhead in the elevator. you don’t appear to notice the way her eyes roam up your tight leggings, and small zipped up sweater that clung to your body. “good morning, neighbor.” you greet her, and she keeps this stone cold expression etched onto her features.

“morning.” she flatly responds, clearly uninterested. “did you like the brownies?” you inquire curiously, as the elevator door closes behind you. “i’m not a fan of chocolate. i prefer pumpkin or apple.” she bluntly replies, and you don’t let her attitude discourage you. in fact, you visibly pep up at the newly found information. “i love pumpkin cinnamon rolls. next time i make some, i’ll bring some over for you.” you say, as the elevator door opens. “i’ll see ya around, neighbor! have a good day.” you call out as you rush towards the exit of the building. melissa rolls her eyes as the elevator doors close, and she continues her way to the parking garage.

your perkiness in the mornings was something melissa couldn’t adjust to. she didn’t want to. as soon as you realized the redhead was in the elevator every morning at 7:20, you were there as well. it was borderline obsessive in the redheads opinion, and she couldn’t stand that dopey grin on your face whenever you’d see her. it was like clockwork. she’d get in the elevator, click on the floor for the parking garage, and you’d squeeze in before the doors closed. she was beginning to consider taking the stairs.

she wasn’t sure how you knew when she was home, but on friday evening, she was in the middle of making dinner when a knock on the door caused her to knock over an open bottle of water. “shit! fuck— i’m comin’!” she yells out frustratedly as she makes her way to the front door. when she opens it, there you are with that stupid smile on your face. this time you’re holding a plate with a large slice of sweet bread on it, with icing slathered on top. it was saran wrapped cutely on the white plate.

“pumpkin cinnamon bread, with cream cheese icing.” your voice is light, and you’re gazing up at her with these big innocent eyes; just begging for her approval. there’s hopefulness laced into your orbs, and not even melissa has the heart to turn this away. “pumpkin in april… thanks kid.” she mutters, and if she thought your smile was big before… it seems to illuminate with her backhanded compliment. maybe it was the fact that one of her favorite students made her a painting in art class, and she was feeling particularly mushy today.

“you like pasta?” she asks you blandly, still sounding indifferent about your sudden intrusion on her dinner making. you nod eagerly, “yup! i haven’t had it in ages though… i don’t know any good italian spots around here, and i can’t cook to save my life.” you confess sheepishly, and she nods as she turns around and disappears into the apartment. she leaves her door wide open, and you stand there, clearly confused. “well, what ‘re you waiting for? come in, dinners almost ready.” she commands, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“unless you got somewhere else to be tonight?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to see how shocked you look. you shake your head quickly, “nope! it was just gonna be me and the takeout guy tonight.” you half joke, as you walk in, shutting the door behind you. you go quiet as you stand behind the counter, and melissa wipes up the water she had spilled earlier. she turns her head to see you glancing around the room, clearly nervous. it’s the quietest she’s ever heard you. “what? place not what you expected?” she asks, and your eyes lock with hers.

“i just… i didn’t think i’d get to see the inside of your place before i got to know your name.” you admit, and melissa can feel an uncontrollable smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “my names melissa.” she confesses, and your eyes go all soft at the revelation. “melissa… huh. that’s a pretty name. it suits you.” you blurt aloud, and she turns away to check on the pasta, hiding the blush that coats her cheeks.

melissa learns quite a bit about you after that. you’re twenty-four, you had lived in the west coast all your life, and you spent your teenage years stuck taking care of your grandma and siblings. the more melissa discovers about you, the harder it is for her to hate you. your kindness isn’t fake or falsified like most of the people around here; you speak every word with genuineness and sincerity. a routine seems to progress between the two of you; every friday evening you knock on her door with some new platter of sweets, and melissa proceeds to invite you in for dinner.

every friday turns into every other day, and before she knows it, you two are having dinner together every night. the redhead went from hating you, to enjoying your presence more than anyone else’s. at first, melissa assumed she simply enjoyed your company because she was lonely. but after a few months of you, she quickly realized what the little flutter in her belly meant whenever she’d see you. melissa’s head would grow fuzzy whenever you complimented her, and she turned into a blushing mess. not to mention how she couldn’t necessarily hide how happy she was to see you now.

she’d pick out a bottle of wine, and makes different recipes she thinks you’d like. she finds herself humming along to old italian songs as she cooks, waiting for the gentle knocks on her door.

tonight you brought her new york cheesecake with raspberry filling on top. you greet her as you push past her, placing the cake onto her counter. “i know, cheesecake is so bad for our health, but i had a terrible day.” you tell her, and you begin to ramble about how awful your boss is. though, all melissa can do is take in how absolutely beautiful you are. the way your hair falls, and moves as you talk with the emotions you wear on your face. when you don’t get a response from melissa for awhile, you look over and see her leaning against the door, staring at you with a peculiar expression.

“what? what’s wrong?” you question, she offers you a gentle shake of her head. “you’re really beautiful, you know that?” she blurts out, her entire demeanor changing as soon as she realizes what she just said. her eyes go wide as she stands up straight, instead of looking appalled or surprised, the blood rises to your face. a shy grin plasters itself onto your face, as you push your hair behind your ears before gazing at her like some shy schoolgirl. “you’re calling me beautiful? have you seen yourself?” you ask her, and that’s the moment that seems to solidify it for melissa.

the way her heartbeat picks up as the words leave your lips, and something in the pit of her stomach bursts, as if a million cocoons hatched into butterflies inside of her. she began to feel something she hasn’t felt since before she married joe. she couldn’t believe some western twenty something year old kid was making her feel this way.

you appear to be able to read melissa like an open book. she doesn’t have to tell you how she’s feeling for you to know. you’re the only person who’s ever been able to figure her out, and it’s scary. melissa also wasn’t an idiot. she could tell judging by the gleam of adoration in your eyes, you were growing quite the crush on her. sometimes she wonders why. you’re in your twenties, you’re hot, and you know how to bake a mean banana cream pie… melissa also sees how the doorman and a variety of other men ogle you in the mornings. you could have anyone you want, yet you spend your evenings eating melissa’s various italian recipes.

however, the redhead is very closed off. especially romantically. after joe, she’s dated around but nobody’s ever gotten a second date. she hasn’t been so intimate with someone in so long, even before her divorce, the marriage was falling apart. dinner every night was not an option for her and joe; he always came home late, and by the time he arrived his plate of leftovers were in the microwave. even when he’d be home while she was cooking, he’d eat in the living room in front of the tv. you were so enthralled by melissa, sometimes you could hardly focus on the food with how much attention you paid her.

she tries to hide the way she revels in your attention, and how the glimmer in your eyes directed towards her causes those stupid butterflies inside of her to repopulate. “you do not actually have random baseball bats around your apartment…” you trail off one evening, as you’re both sitting on melissa’s comfortable couch. there’s a glass of wine in each of your hands; you’re both on your second glass, and you’re sure it’s the expensive wine melissa keeps locked away. it makes you feel special when she puts so much thought into the dinners you two share. they mean something to you, and you’re positive they mean something to her as well.

“i do. they’re hidden around.” she explains, taking a sip of her wine. you let out a genuine giggle; your wide eyed gaze is pouring right into her, nobody’s ever looked at her with such reverence. something then flickers in her eyes as she remembers something; “speaking of… i’ve been meaning to give you one. ya look like you can’t swing for shit, but it’s better than ya having nothing to defend yourself with.” melissa rambles as she stands up, disappearing into her bedroom. your brows knit together in slight confusion as you wait for her to return.

when she does, she has a medium sized wooden bat. it was dark wood and looked brand new. “wait, you were serious?” you ask, letting out a breathless little chuckle. “you live on a questionable part of town, by yourself, y/n. you barely even forget to lock your door when you come over.” she scolds, sounding undoubtedly upset by the fact. your baffled features quickly morph into a soft expression, “you worried about me, lissa?” you tauntingly ask, and she lets out this vexed huff, waving the wooden bat closer to you.

“just take the damn thing and keep it by your bed.” she commands, while you gladly accept the strange but thoughtful gift. “it’ll make you feel safer.” she adds, her neck burning as you stare at her with a vulnerable look on your face. “okay. but i’ll have you know i’ve never felt safer than knowing my tough, kick ass neighbor is right across the hall.” you assure her, and something inside of melissa is slipping; whether it’s her resolve or the walls she so desperately tries to keep up. “thanks for worrying about me though. i worry about you too.” you clarify, and melissa would normally scoff at a comment like that.

she’d shake her head and demand for you to know she can take care of herself… but she can’t. as you stare into her eyes with the sole intent of wanting her to understand how much she means to you, melissa finds herself taking a seat beside you again, deciding to let the comment slide. maybe she enjoyed knowing someone as sweet as you cared about her. it’s been so long since anyone’s cared for her in this way; it was sort of foreign to her by now. yet it was also comforting.

though melissa often found herself thinking about what things would be like when you finally met somebody. if you’d opt to spending your evenings with your new girlfriend or boyfriend… if you’d look at them with the same gaze you’d look at her with. some evenings she’d catch herself staring at you, and she’d think of being in the shoes of some younger woman… someone who can give you the start at life that you need. you’re in your early twenties, and there’s no way you’d ever want someone old and used up like melissa.

so naturally, the night you invite melissa to your place for dinner instead of just heading to hers… she feels an odd bundle of nerves knotting up in her stomach. she changes after work; which is something she never does. she puts on that sundress she likes to wear when she’s feeling good about herself. as soon as you open the door, your eyes nearly bug out of your head. you have a grease stain on your cheek, she assumes it’s some kind of cooking oil. the apron you’re wearing is hiding the tight top and jeans you’re wearing underneath, but melissa thinks you’ve never looked more cute.

“you’re early! i— i’m still making dinner, please sit down.” you urge her, and melissa offers you that soft smile that seems to only be reserved for you these days. she looks around your place; taking in the pictures on the walls, and the flatscreen that’s too big in melissa’s opinion. she barely watches tv, and when she does it’s in bed on her phone. “yeah, i left a little early because ava hired some of the teachers some new assistants.” she tells you, and you cock a brow, flashing her an amused grin. “an assistant? how do you like that?” you question curiously, knowing how difficult it was for the redhead to warm up to new people.

she snorts, “the kids fine. she’s a little younger than you. can’t understand a word she says but the kids like her.” she murmurs, shrugging, before she looks over at you. you’re stirring whatever’s in the pot, and she quirks a brow. “you actually might like her.” melissa’s comment rolls off your back easily, you don’t seem to notice the difference in her tone. you laugh lightly, “i doubt that. i’ve never gotten along with girls that well. guys either.” you confess, and melissa snorts. “oh yeah, sure, the girl who makes conversation with the mailman doesn’t have any friends. who do you think you’re lying to here, kid?” she questions, and you frown, rolling your eyes. “i’m not a kid. and just because i know how to make conversation with people, doesn’t mean i have a lot of friends.” your voice is light, and lacks any sort of defense or malice.

melissa sort of envies how easy it is for you to talk about things. “i mean, even in high school i had like three friends. they all still live back home, and we talk from time to time but it’s not like we can just hang out every weekend, you know?” you begin to ramble as you stir the searing food in the pan. “you’re the only person who i hang out with, and i’m lucky you even wanna hang out with me.” you add half jokingly, and you turn to see an inscrutable expression etched onto the older woman’s face.

“anyone would wanna hang out with you… i mean one day you’re gonna find someone who can’t stay away from you.” melissa says in an abnormally gentle way, there’s a hint of sadness in her voice and you cock a brow at the redhead. “does it count if i’ve already found someone i can’t stay away from? i’m literally making beef stroganoff for her, and i almost burned down the kitchen twice just to impress her.” you admit, and on cue whatever is in the pan begins smoking.

melissa’s eyes widen as a blush coats her beautiful face. she rushes over to your side, “jesus, y/n! why didn’t you tell me you wanted beef stroganoff? i could make this in my sleep!” she begins to shoo you away, and you frown, shaking your head stubbornly. “because you always make dinner; i wanted to cook for you.” your fervent voice causes melissa’s heart to lurch in her chest. “i don’t just cook for just anybody, yanno’? i cook for you because i like ya, and don’t know how else to show it. i’m not all sweet like you.” she clarifies, and your heartbeat quickens as her words sink in.

she’s trying her hardest to avoid your eyes, and you can’t help the uncontrollable blush on your cheeks. “you like me?” you ask her, and she rolls her eyes. “like it wasn’t obvious when i cooked mac n cheese as a main dish. seriously, kid, your taste buds are strange.” she mutters, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the grin on your face. “yeah, well, as strange as my palette is, you like me.” you taunt her, and notice the way her focused stirring falters ever so slightly. she scoffs, forcing an exasperated expression on her face.

“don’t make me take it back.” she murmurs, and you can’t seem to stop grinning at her like an idiot.

the seasons change and so do things between you and melissa. it isn’t a significant enough change for you to mention it, but it is enough for you to feel the difference. melissa is so soft, and carefree around you now. before she was so tough and prickly; she’s still a bit prickly but you don’t mind getting poked in order to see her true self every now and then. you two appear to be doing this slow dance around the obvious feelings you have for one another.

melissa is way more reluctant than you are. she hates the way her mind works, but it’s not like she can control it. usually how cute and thoughtful you are washes away any doubts she has about herself, except for one day she runs out parsley, and has to run to the store. of course you offer to come along with her, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater and excitedly trotting by her side.

“you sure you don’t need anything else from here? you’re running out of juice.” you remind her and she mentally scolds herself. “you’re right! thanks hun.” she sweetly thanks you, making your face hot as she reaches for the orange juice. you both make your way to the checkout line, and you aimlessly look around at the chocolates. “y/n! hey!” a familiar voice causes you and melissa to turn around. you eyebrows rises slightly as you run into a woman who you went on a few dates with when you first moved here.

“tracy! hey!” you greet her, and she hugs you before you can even think. melissa is watching the interaction like a hawk, and as soon as the raven haired girl hugs you, there’s a burning sensation of pure rage deep rooted in her belly. her eyes narrow as “tracy” pulls away from you, and looks at you as if she wants to ravish you in the supermarket. “you never called me again! i had a lot of fun mini-golfing with you.” she says, and you sheepishly rub the back of your neck, clearly racking your brain for a flimsy excuse.

that’s when realization hits melissa; you dated this woman! the thought alone nearly makes her scoff. this was your type? mid-twenties, soft skin, hippie wannabe? “i just got really busy adjusting to living here and all that… but how are you?” you try to steer the subject away from the awkward final date you hated. it wasn’t fun for you; you had to force yourself to be some cool girl you clearly weren’t. “i’m good! how are you? what are you up to tonight?” she asks hopefully, and you smile.

“i’m good as well. this is melissa, we’re here picking up some parsley for dinner tonight.” you introduce the redhead, and tracy’s demeanor immediately shifts as she assumes the older woman is your girlfriend. “oh. hi, i’m tracy.” she introduces herself to the grade school teacher, holding out her hand for the second grade teacher to shake. melissa only nods curtly in in tracy’s direction, “hey.” she flatly responds. and you notice the tension in the air right away. “well, it was nice seeing you again, tracy.” you say suggestively, and tracy nods.

“yeah, you too. you should call me sometime.” she squeezes your arm before she leaves, and melissa looks as though she wants to murder you with her eyes. “next.” the checkout clerk calls out, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts. she places the orange juice and parsley down much harder than she intended; it even causes the middle-aged man to jump slightly. “rough day?” he questions with a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood. melissa shoots daggers at him with her eyes, causing his smile to fall as he clears his throat.

he scans the items quickly, “that’ll be $8.97.” he states; not a single slick remark left in him. melissa inserts her card, finishing the transaction without another word. she storms out of the supermarket with you in tow, trying to catch up to her as you follow her to her car. when you’re both strapped in, the car starts and the ride is quiet for the first minute and a half. you hate awkward silences, especially with her. “i honestly forgot i even tried dating when i first moved here.” you pipe up.

“well maybe now you can give her a call, since you’re no longer busy and adjusting.” she mocks your lame excuse from a few minutes ago, and you frown. “i didn’t— the reason i didn’t call her back wasn’t because i was adjusting—“ you try to explain yourself, but melissa cuts you off. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. we’re friends, i don’t care who you go on lousy dates with.” her voice is harsh, and it’s a tone you recognize all too well. it’s the same one she uses when she used to have her walls up high, refusing to let you get even a glimpse into her mind.

she doesn’t allow you to tell her it was solely because you didn’t want to call tracy again. the dates were terrible; the entire time you were just pretending to be someone you’re not. you only forced yourself to go because you had been living here for a month, and hadn’t made a single friend. melissa stubbornly cooks dinner, and the conversation through the night is short. you aren’t used to it, and it hurts. but you convince yourself tomorrow she’ll be ready to talk about it.

but the next morning, melissa must’ve left for work earlier than usual because you don’t see her in the elevator. you text her to have a good day, but never get a response. throughout the day you can’t help but think about her, and you wonder why she became so closed off after finding out about your meaningless dates with tracy. you understood she might’ve been a little jealous; sometimes you got jealous whenever she spoke about joe. but she seemed so genuinely upset, all you wanted to do was figure out what was going through her head.

you decide to make her some pumpkin carrot cake before heading to her apartment for dinner. it’s nearly six when you’re finished, and you place it in a tupperware nicely for her. you’re practicing in your head what you want to say to her tonight, and how you should assess the situation. by the time you knock on her door you have a simple smile on your face, and the door swings open, the sight nearly causing your eyes to bug out of their sockets.

melissa was wearing a tight black dress that hugged her body perfectly, and enhanced every single curve. the exposed cleavage caused you to force your eyes on hers in order not to sneak a longer peak. your hopeful smile falls a bit when you notice the hard expression on her face. before she can even ask you anything, you begin blabbering like you usually do. “look, i know you said we’re just friends, but there’s more to us than just that… we both know it. we may not have ever talked about it or what it means, but i haven’t dated anyone since this started…” you ramble, and melissa’s eyes soften for a split second, her hard facade slipping as a wave of panic washes over her.

“y/n—“ she tries, but the voice behind her is interrupting, causing your heart to fall right into your stomach. “everything okay, red?” a deep, unfamiliar voice asks, causing you to freeze. melissa suddenly has this unrecognizable expression of regret on her face. “y-yeah everything’s fine, gar.” she says back, “gary? as in the vending machine guy who’s been flirting with you all year, gary?” you ask in disbelief, and a slight bit of anger is mixed into your voice. she had been so upset about you going on a few dates with tracy before you two were even friends, and now she was here having a romantic dinner with gary. you could even smell the type of food she made him.

“he’s been asking me all year, and i decided since it’s been awhile since i’ve been on a date, i should get back out there.” melissa says the words she’s practiced saying to you in her head. she knew you’d come over today, you always do. she knew you’d see her with gary, and maybe she wanted that. she wanted you to feel how she felt when she saw you and tracy. though as you stare up at her with this kicked puppy-dog expression, she knows you aren’t feeling what she was feeling yesterday. you’re just straight up hurt and it’s written all over your face.

you glance down at the stupid dessert you spent all afternoon perfecting. “well, this is for you, because i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i can see now you weren’t upset at all.” you have to force yourself to speak, and you surprisingly hold it together as you shove the tupperware in melissa’s hands. you turn to walk back into your apartment, and a wave of regret flashes over the redhead. melissa reaches out for you, “y/n, wait—“ a firm but soft hand wraps around your wrist, but you pull it away from her as you spin around and flash her a dejected look. the sight breaks her heart in two.

“it’s fine. you were right; we’re friends. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i don’t care who you go on dates with.” you throw the words back in her face, and there’s a flicker of emotions on her face but you turn away and disappear into your apartment. melissa stands there staring at your door; she looks down at the cake in her hands and she hates how tight her chest gets. it’s like her heart might pop in her chest. she doesn’t feel the way she thought she would, and suddenly she mentally curses herself for thinking it’d feel good to hurt you.

melissa is off her game at work the next day. she texts you, and for the first time since you two became friends, you’re the one who doesn’t reply. the redhead realizes she made a mistake. instead of talking about her insecurities or how hurt she was when she saw you and tracy, she ended up jumping the gun and going out with the safest option. gary.

in truth she did like gary; maybe not enough to want to date him, but she found him moderately attractive. she also thought he was pretty funny, and he appears to like her a lot. though none of that was anything compared to what she felt for you. melissa could not stop thinking about you and that hurt face of yours all day. she even decides to cook your favorite food for dinner.

but when six-thirty rolls around, and you still haven’t knocked on her door, there’s a sinking sensation in her stomach. melissa huffs as she looks at the dinner she prepared, and thought of it going to waste angered her. or maybe it was the thought of you just standing her up, even though it’s not like she personally invited you tonight. maybe you think she’s with gary again.

usually melissa is very stubborn, and she would never consider going across the hall and begging you… but she can’t get you out of her damn head. so she takes her ass straight to your door, not even bothering to close hers. she knocks on your door vigorously, not stopping once until the door swings open to reveal you. your hair is damp, and you’re in an old oversized tee shirt; the printing was faded but the hem reached just below your thighs. melissa had to refrain herself from gazing down at your smooth legs.

“i cooked dinner and you’re ready for bed, what gives?” she questions, hating how she sounds like a petulant child. you look a bit surprised to see her, “don’t you have a date with gary and his mustache?” you ask a bit bitterly, and melissa scowls. “it was just dinner, y/n.” the redhead says, and you gaze up into her eyes. “dinner like we have?” you ask, and she huffs in response. “that’s different and you know it! you said it yourself yesterday, there’s more to us than just that.” she reminds you.

“i was clearly wrong.” you sound abnormally stubborn, and melissa sighs in frustration. “i’m not going to see gary again, kid. so just come on over and sit down for dinner.” she commands, and you shake your head defiantly.

“no.” you retort, and she raises a brow, obviously shocked by the disobedience. “no?” she asks you in the warning tone she uses whenever one of her students is testing her. “that’s right, i’m saying no. ever since this started, i’ve always done what you say. i go at your pace, i wake up earlier just to see you, i don’t bake anything with chocolate because you hate chocolate. did you know it’s my favorite? i do whatever you ask to satisfy you. i put my feelings to the side, just to make sure yours are valid. all for my efforts to be outweighed by a guy who restocks the gushers in the vending machine.” you stress, sounding reasonably upset.

“why did you even get so upset about tracy the other day if you were planning on going out with gary? i don’t understand you.” you add, and the dam melissa built to keep her emotions in abruptly bursts. “exactly! you don’t understand me! you’re this young kid who has her whole life to look forward to. this is just a passing moment in your life; this apartment, this city, our dinners, me.” her voice lowers, “you got your whole life ahead of ya, you shouldn’t waste it tryin’ ta’ understand me. you should be dating girls like tracy who are equipped with all sorts of emotions, and able to give you what you need.” she adds, and you frown as she pours her heart out to you. she appears to be full of regret, and vulnerability.

“and what exactly do i need, lissa?” you can’t help but ask, and she runs her fingers through her soft red locks. “you need someone who’ll take care of ya, and show ya how much they care about you. you need someone who isn’t old and afraid of what everyone else thinks. maybe someone who wouldn’t completely embarrass the shit out of ya whenever you decide to take them back to your hometown…” she trails off, now she’s avoiding your eyes and the abnormal, unconfident demeanor causes you to frown. you practically worship the ground melissa walks on; even if she didn’t know it, you were completely enamored by her. it frustrates you to know she doesn’t put herself on a similar pedestal.

“you are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on. when i met you, i felt this instant pull that i had never felt before. god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you, and it makes me so mad that you don’t think of yourself that way. i love you, you know? everything about you; the crinkles by your eyes whenever you smile, the way you curse when you’re angry, your southern philly accent… that irritated frown on your face whenever you’re upset.” you begin to get lost in your words, the space between you both getting smaller and unnoticed. her heart palpitates as you rave on and on about her with this genuine expression of stringent affection.

“you have all these amazing qualities, and you sell yourself short. you’re the best freakin’ cook in the world; the best and sexiest teacher in the world; you’re tough as nails; you have this energy that follows you, it’s fierce and warm. just like you. and as for your age, it’s hard for me too…” the last comment makes her eyes harden, and you’re quick to add, “… but it’s not because i think you’re old, mel. it’s because sometimes i feel like you don’t think of me as your equal. you just think of me as this young kid who’s a burden. but i know who i am, and what i want. i keep a memory of everything you do in the back of my head, and the space in my mind you take up is only getting bigger and bigger. you’re it for me, i’m positive, because how can i see anyone else when you’re engraved in my mind and heart?” you ask her, pouring your whole heart out to her.

your eyes widen when you see the tears threatening to fall from her delicate green eyes. “that’s— that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me… you— that was more romantic than the vows at my wedding…” melissa’s voice cracks and she tries to put on that stony facade, but it doesn’t work. your words seemed to have broken one of the steel walls she puts up; it’s crumbled into millions of pieces and left her exposed in front of you. her eyes are unguarded and her expression is fragile. she feels so small.

“you can’t just say things like that!” she snaps, her voice higher than usual. you shake your head, “why not? you deserve to hear more good things about yourself, and i can go on all night.” you sheepishly admit, and melissa’s eyes soften when they meet yours. “you really feel that way about me? even though i’m probably older than your mom?” she half jokes, but the self-doubt is leaking through her tone. “you are definitely way hotter than my mother.” you mutter, and melissa gasps but can’t manage to fight to the grin that’s tugging at her lips.

“gee kid, you feel all of that for me and have never even tried ta’ kiss me? what gives?” you can hear the genuine curiosity behind the playful question, and your cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you wanted me. i mean, yesterday when i saw you with hulk hogan—“ she cuts in, “gary.” she corrects and you scowl cutely, “whatever. when i saw you with him it kind of reminded me you’re a woman who needs someone to take care of you and i… i’m just a kid.” you look down at your sock covered feet, and before you can even think about anything else, melissa is cupping your face and making you face her.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and the butterflies in your belly begin to repopulate one by one. she pulls away before you can think twice, “you’re not just a kid to me. you’re a good person, y/n. i’m sorry i was so immature about everything.” she sounds ashamed, but the sincerity in her voice makes your heart speed up. your cheeks burn and maybe the kiss sweetened you up a bit. “it’s okay, lissa. i understand… next time just talk to me.” you assure her and she smirks. “or i can just kiss ya again and see where that gets me.” she half jokes, making you grin.

“or that too.”

#melissa schemmenti x fem reader #melissa schemmenti x fem reader angst #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter x reader

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jessicaslittlelovesickmess · 2 months

Text

Clingy

Warning: self doubt? Sad Mel

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

“You’re going to suffocate the poor girl” Barbara chuckled light heartedly at Melissa who had basically dragged you onto her lap. The grip the redhead had around your waist had loosened as her shoulders sagged lightly, you frowned to yourself.

It wasn’t often you visited the women at work but you had a feeling this wouldn’t end well with a small sigh you went to kiss Melissa. She turned her head your lips met her cheek “I’m gonna use the restroom before I need to leave” you smiled sadly.

The walls she built up were always the highest, she was a Schemmenti after all and although you were used to them it still hurt. “Alright” she offered a small smile but by the time you came back she was already gone nothing but your purse waiting for you.

You text her when you left saying you loved her, she read it and closed her phone focusing her energy onto the classroom of rowdy children. But she found herself constantly checking her phone for anything from you maybe she was clingy she wasn’t like this with Joe or Gary. But you also weren’t them, you smelt like Vanilla and coconut you showered regularly, you were kind and attentive, you went out of your way for her.

Melissa was swooning just thinking of you it drove her mad but she made up her mind she was going to give you space even if it broke her heart.

When she arrived home you were dishing dinner out with a smile as Catatonia played in the background “hi baby, how was work?” You asked gently. Melissa shook her head wishing not to speak, her fingers traced the table unable to face you as she thought to herself.

As you both ate in an awkward silence you placed your knife and fork down “Y’know I like clingy” you cleared your throat. “I like the messages and the roaming hands, I like sitting on your lap and being in your arms, I love the kisses and I love you’s, I like lunch together and knowing that you care”.

Melissa swallowed looking over at you with a single tear on her waterline “I love you and I love seeing your red hair wherever I go, I love that your the first thing I see in the morning and the last at night, I love that your perfume lingers and my list goes on but don’t take what Barb said to heart. I love you Melissa Ann Schemmenti never forget that”

“I love you too”

#imagine #wlw #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter x reader #angst #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti imagine #melissa ann schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader

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twice-inamillion · 3 months

Text

The Company

Interlude 1

Smut and Story Building

1,185 Words

(A small timeskip. Will be introducing some new characters and imporant events)

It’s been a couple of months since you and Jessica hooked up. The weekend was one of many nights that the two of you spent together. At first, she made the excuse of visiting IU and Taeyeon and would try to get a quick one before meeting them. You know her trick and obviously didn’t reject the offer. Instead, you made sure to pump a load or two before she left to meet her friends.

————

With two confirmed groups for the company, you took some time to get to know them without exposing your position as CEO. You came up with a false position as a trainer/staff to better know some of the trainees before their official debut.

Your assistants were fine with the idea since it gave you a chance to be involved in their bi-weekly evaluation process, but not most felt that way. There were some staff that were a bit stressed by your presence by having the CEO breathing down their back. You assured them that they could act normally and that your focus was on the trainees.

After the first week, their stress disappeared due to how involved you were with the trainees. They enjoyed watching you become a backup dancer, even cheering you as you took off your shirt.

“Wow, such a hot body!”

You turned around to catch the person who yelled that but only saw the girls holding their laugh.

“Alright, let’s end this here. Good job, girls,” says one of the female trainers.

You return to the seats and grab a towel to wipe yourself off. Through the large room-sized mirror, you see someone eyeing you, biting her lip as you dry your face.

“Jennie unnie, let’s go. We need to head out and get to class,” says the girl next to her. The girls gather their bags and rush out the door.

“CEO nim, sorry for the rude comment the girls made. I’ll talk to them later today,” says the female trainer.

“Don’t worry about it. They’re just being playful. No harm done.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Also, what's the girl’s name again?” pretending not to know her.

“Her name is Kim Jennie, aka Jennie.”

Later that day, while waiting in the cafeteria line, you get a feeling of someone eyeing you and notice it’s Jennie sitting across the room with four other girls. You grab your food, take your tray to an empty table, and begin eating. That feeling of someone watching you continues throughout lunch, even as you pass by them to return your tray.

You change your outfit, return to your office, and pull up the group’s file:

Group A:

Kim, Jisoo

Kim, Jennie

Cho, Miyeon

Park, Chaeyoung

Manobal, Lisa

Group B:

Irene

Kang Seulgi

Son Wendy

Park Joy

You look at Jennie’s file and see numerous comments stating that she has an ‘It girl” factor based on her looks, language, rapping skills, and stage presence. Many state they have hopes for her in the group. You look at her pictures and videos from her evaluations and can’t help but want to get to know her. After much thinking, you decide to make her your new toy as you close her file.

————

You leave the practice room, walk towards the hallways, and see Irene. You stop, look through the window slot, and see her together with her future girl group. You watch as she stands in front of the group, plays the music, and gets into formation.

“They’re good. Irene chose some good members.”

You take out your phone and take a quick snap but forget to turn off the flash; Irene turns her head and sees your apologetic face. She runs to the door and opens it, yelling at you to go away. You run and turn the corner, laughing out loud as some of the staff members look at you with worried expressions, as they have never seen the CEO act this way.

————-

Throughout the next week weeks, you notice Jennie throughout the company or calling you to move some furniture around when the rest of the members are not around, and you’re surprised by the way she talks to you so comfortably, “Oppa, can you move that over there? Is to heavy for me” as she pouts. “Sure, don’t worry about it” carrying some heavy boxes from one corner of the living room and into another. You tell yourself that you shouldn’t have played the staff role since you’ve been busy recently, but you can’t blow your cover, so instead, you suck it up for a bit longer.

“Here, that’s it. Anything else?”

“No.” She comes close to you and touches your biceps, “You’re so strong, oppa. Do you work out a lot?”

“I do work out a bit here and there” as you flex your muscles. She claps and says, “Wow, does that mean you’re strong?”

You pick her front her waist with much ease, making her yelp from the surprise, and say, “Wait, what are you doing?” You spin her around once, then hear the door open and see the other four members enter the apartment. Immediately, you put her down, and the both of you pretend that nothing happened, but the girls see Jennie’s reaction and can’t help but laugh.

“Alight, I’ll take my leave if there is nothing else for me to do.”

“Jennie, don’t you want to say goodbye to oppa?”

Jennie turns red and covers her face from the teasing of her members as you exit their apartment.

—————

You get a phone call and see that it's from Jessica. When you answer the phone, you can hear her upset, almost crying. “Jessica, what’s wrong?” There is a short silence and a cry until she finally speaks up, “Can you pick me up?” Worried you let her know that you’ll be there in a couple of minutes in front of her apartment.

When you arrive, you see that she is waiting by the entrance of the building with a small suitcase and bag. She comes in a hurry, so you quickly open the door and load her items inside. You arrive at your apartment and settle her things down; you offer her something to drink as she sits on the couch. “Would you like something to drink?” She gives it some thought and eventually says, “I think I’ll go for a tea.” You’re surprised by her choice since she normally gets some wine whenever she visits.

You hand over the drink and sit next to her, asking her what’s wrong and why she’s so upset. She breaks down and says repeatedly that it’s not fair. “What do you mean by it’s not fair? What happened?”

“The company and the girls are kicking me out of the group.”

“What? Why?”

Jessica stands up and undoes her thick coat, revealing a small bump. In a panic, you say, “Are you…”

She nods and says, “Yeah, I’m pregnant with your child.”

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fallingfor-fics · 1 month

Text

Jealousy - Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Okay this is scary ... my first Melissa fic! Please let me know if yall fw it.

Warnings: minimal angst, dom!Melissa/spanking, not any straight smut tho

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: You accidentally make Melissa too jealous in a space out of her control, so she decides to take it into her own hands and remind you of your place.

This is inspired from a scene in one of my new fav movies Secretary (2002)

This was thrown together when I got the inspo so I hope its not too shitty!

The day started out wonderful, birds were chirping and the sun was peeking in through the sheer curtains that glazed the windows in Melissa’s bedroom. You couldn't have had a better start to a Wednesday. Wednesdays were always your favorite day, no lunch duty and halfway done with the school week. Which meant you were halfway to spending all weekend tangled up in your girlfriend's arms (and legs). The traffic on the drive to work was practically non-existent and you seemed to only hit green lights. Melissa had a firm hand on your thigh as she drove and you managed to make it to work on time. So how you ended up flushed, out of breath, and bent over your desk as Melissa’s hand placed firm smacks on your ass, was a mystery. Or so you pretended it was.

“How was lunch duty yesterday Y/n?” Barbara asked from across the breakroom as she went to sit next to Melissa at a table.

“It wasn't that bad for once!” You chirped, making eye contact with the red head who smirked and turned back to her coffee allowing a small blush to grace your cheeks from the interaction. Before you could make your way to the table you heard a voice call your name from the doorway.

“Miss L/n can I talk to you for a second?” Dylan, a new fifth grade teacher like yourself, called with a smile on his face.

“Of course, and please Y/n is fine!” You smiled, setting your coffee down next to Melissa, who looked up at you with an unsatisfied glare which she allowed to follow you out of the door as you approached Dylan. You didn't enter too far in the hallway and could still be seen, and heard, by Melissa's spot at the table, and of course as nosey as she is, she didn't take her eyes off of you and Dylan.

“What's up? Have you been settling in okay?” You ask politely with a smile gracing your face.

“Yeah I have, thank you so much for all the help, you have been so kind to me and helping with the lesson plans, and oh god the projector-- has been so appreciated.” he gushed and flashed you a grin, looking you up and down, stepping closer. Melissa rolled her eyes at the remarks, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Oh don't mention it! I had someone do the same for me when I first started and I don't know what I would have done without her.” Your back was turned slightly to Melissa so you couldn't see the cocky grin she had on her face over-hearing that. You and her were keeping your relationship under wraps to avoid the whole school making a big deal out of it. Something you both were perfectly content with and honestly preferred. Melissa was snapped out of her daze when she heard the sweet sound of your laughter from the hall. She must have missed the joke Dylan said that was apparently so funny it had you covering your mouth as your cheeks grew red and you placed a hand on his arm, shoving it playfully. Melissa felt her own cheeks growing hot but not from laughter. She squeezed her mug tight, her knuckles turning white as she forced herself to look away. Melissa was an incredibly jealous person, but you loved that about her cause so were you. You knew the root of jealousy for you both did not come from insecurity but more so possession. When Melissa was jealous she became incredibly protective and therefore sexy. You always secretly loved when a man would flirt with you when you two were out, because it always led to Melissa giving a snarky remark to the man, and then taking out her anger on you in the bedroom. You knew Melissa was watching, and you wanted her riled up so when you got home tonight, she didn't… hold back. What you didn't know was that things weren't going to necessarily follow your pre-planned timeline.

“So what do you say? Dinner tonight?” Dylan asked, flashing dreamy eyes at you. You stopped laughing fairly quickly and was obviously caught off guard from the question.

“Wait, what?” You squinted in shock, your hand now resting on your chest to play with your necklace, one gifted to you by the redhead who was fuming a few feet behind the scene playing out.

“Dinner. To go over lesson plans.” Dylan restated confidently, moving his arm to rest up against the doorframe beside you. Your gaze followed his arm and soon realized what he was proposing.

“Oh. By lesson plans I thought you meant in my classroom like last time.” You cleared your throat, taking a step back slightly. He shook his head and moved his arm back to his side, not wanting to completely bruise his ego.

“Oh yeah we can do that then. Rain check on dinner?” he smirked.

“Uh yeah, sure.” You said with slight uncertainty, “I'll see you in my classroom after school then?” you clarified.

“Yeah I look forward to seeing you Mis- Y/n.” he corrected himself with a nod.

Before you could say a farewell of any kind so you could get back to your lunch, you felt someone roughly brush by you running into your shoulder as they walked out of the break room. You quickly noticed it was Melissa and your eyes went wide. That seemed a bit more aggressive than you were intending. You knew you couldn't follow after her immediately without looking suspicious so you watched as she disappeared down the end of the hall and you went to quickly finish your lunch. However, you didn't have time before lunch was over and you had to get back to teaching. Since you taught fifth, your students had three periods throughout the day and changed between you and two other teacher’s classes, Dylan being one of those teachers now. During the period changes Melissa would usually stop by to talk with you while her kids went on a bathroom break or were watching an educational movie. It was a short amount of time to see each other but something you had been doing since you practically started, however she didn't come today and you grew worried. You brushed it off knowing that you would at least see her at recess and continued on your day until then. But there you were, sitting on a bench watching kids run around playing, their screams growing muffled as you scanned the yard and checked the entrances continuously. No sign of Melissa, her kids were out here playing in the smaller jungle gym, but the redhead was nowhere in sight.

“Hey Barb, where is Melissa?” you yelled slightly so you could be heard over the noise.

“I don't know, I haven't seen her since lunch.” She shrugged.

You asked her to watch your kids while you ran to the bathroom and she nodded. You quickly made your way to Melissa's room, practically sprinting to get there. Crossing your fingers and praying to every god that she would be in there. Sure enough she was sitting at her desk, glasses perched on the end of her nose, a red pen in her hand as she graded papers. You walked in slowly, heels clicking on the tile as you approached her desk.

“Hey sweetie.” You greeted softly and she didn't answer. She continued to harshly mark the papers with X’s or checks.

“Do you want some help? Must be a lot to do if you're in here instead of at recess.” She still didn't answer, just grabbed a stack and a red pen and held them up for you to grab.

You grabbed them without question and sat at the desk in front of her and began grading them, every now and then glancing up at her. You could feel the heat radiating off of her and it honestly scared you a little. You were reluctant to say another word, or ask her a question in fear she would either explode or just storm out. You had played with her and her possessiveness before but she hadn't ever reacted this way, maybe you went too far. You couldn't have predicted Dylan would ask you out! You finally got the courage to speak up, hesitance present in your tone.

“Melissa?” you called and she hummed in response, that's a good sign. “Um, is everything ok-” before you could finish your sentence the bell was ringing, and you realized you left Barbara outside with the kids.

“Shit” you muttered, standing up and walking to her desk. “Um here, I'm sorry I'll see you after school?” you asked gently and she just grabbed the graded papers from your hands and nodded. One of the scariest things about this was the silence. It was thick, heavy, and suffocating. Melissa loved to argue, she loved to prove herself right, so the fact she was giving you the silent treatment was terrifying.

The rest of the day dragged on insufferably slow and you couldn't tear your eyes off of the clock, waiting for it to hit three fifteen and to hear the sweet ring of the bell. Finally the time came and you dismissed your students. You figured you wouldn't have time to see Melissa before Dylan got here so you just hoped and prayed she would come to you. Thoughts of the redhead filled your mind and caused the guilt to take over. You didn't understand what was so different about today that caused her to react this way. Maybe it was the environment. That's when it clicked, she was probably incredibly frustrated that she wasn't able to show that you were hers. She wasn't able to chew Dylan out with sarcastic yet classy insults because you were at work. That made you feel even worse at allowing Dylan to flirt for so long, and for playing into it. After a few minutes you got lost in your thoughts and didn't hear your girlfriend enter your room. You were brought out of your focus by a hand slamming a piece of paper down on your desk from behind you. You jumped in shock and quickly looked up when you felt Melissa standing close against your back with her hand around your shoulder sitting firmly on the paper on the desk. She lent down close to your ear and you felt a shiver run through you.

“You have multiple grading errors on this paper, are you trying to make me look like an idiot?” She whispered into your ear, her hot breath against your cheek. You quickly shook your head and turned to look at her, but she moved away and walked around you, causing you to turn back the other way and follow her with your eyes as she came to stand in front of you, her hands on your desk.

“I'm sorry Melissa-- I can fix it.” you stuttered out softly and she didn't offer so much as a sympathetic smile.

“Close the door.” she ordered in her deep voice, her eyes never leaving yours as her brow lifted. You quickly obeyed, getting up to shut it. As you walked back over to her you went to reach for her but she moved away, turning the paper on the desk to face away from your chair. You stood next to your desk watching her in confusion. She was acting so unusual. It wasn't like you weren't secretly enjoying this, but she hadn't behaved like this in school before. She walked over to your door and locked it, pulling the shade over the small window on it down. You felt your heart beat faster as she turned to face you again.

“Melissa, I didn't know Dylan was going to ask me out or that he even liked me. I was just trying to tease you-”

“Bend over and place your palms flat on the desk and look at the paper.” she interrupted with a monotone voice. You looked at her confused, looking around the classroom and then back at her. You and Melissa were into a lot of stuff when it came to kinks, so nothing was ever out of your comfort zone, you had just never done anything at school besides a mini makeout sesh.

“What? But- Melissa, someone could walk by.” you stated and she just walked closer to you. Her eyes scanning you up and down and her hips swaying. Her sparkling green eyes were dark and lustful now and you couldn't seem to read her as easily as you normally could.

“Y/n… Bend. Over.” She stated again and you obliged. She hardly used this tone on you and it sent a shiver up your spine. You felt like one of her students that was being scolded. Arousal and excitement was present but so was a slight sense of genuine fear. You walked to face your desk, placing your palms and elbows flat on either side of the paper, causing your ass to arch up so your back was more comfortable as you bent down fully. Looking at the paper you noticed her highlights on the errors you missed, or marked incorrectly. You soon felt her come up behind you and you forgot how to breathe. Your heart was racing, having nothing to look at but the paper before you. Your eyes darted across it, trying to use all your other senses to get an idea of what the woman was doing behind you. You heard her let out a shaky breath as her hand rested on your hip, squeezing ever so softly.

“You know how much I hate you flirting with other people, especially men like Dylan. Do you realize how much of a slut you look like when you do that at work?” Melissa scathed from behind, her grip on your hip tightening. Your breath hitched and you felt a warmth growing in your stomach.

“I wasn't flirting with him.” you quipped back, a false confidence laced in your words. Her other hand came to grip the other hip and you let your eyes shut for a brief moment.

“No man tells a joke that funny hon,” she laughed with a hidden aggression, the addition of the pet name causing you to press your ass back into her, but she stopped you with her grip, holding you into place. “And then, you do a half-ass job on my papers that I so graciously trusted you with even after the stunt you pulled at lunch.” she scoffed, one of her hands running up your back to grab ahold of your hair. She yanked it back slightly as she leaned forward to whisper in your ear earning a moan from you. “Read the paper, out loud.” she released your hair and you let out a small gasp as you looked back at the paper. You were definitely soaked and could feel the fire burning in your core, causing your vision to go blurry for a second. Before you could mutter another word, a knock came from your door and the handle jiggled.

“Y/n? Are you in there?” Dylan called from the other side. Your eyes went wide as you turned your head to the direction of the door. Then turning your head back to look at Melissa who gazed down at you with a smirk full of pity. Your mouth dropped open as you tried to think of what to say, the lights were still on so you couldn't just pretend to be gone. You felt Melissa run a hand down your thigh and your eyes fluttered, she grabbed for the hem of your skirt and you swallowed.

“I can't do lesson plans with you today Dylan! I'll see you tomorrow.” you yelled out and he muttered a response and then walked away.

“Melissa- we can't do this here anyon-”

“Read the paper Y/n.” she ordered, her voice deep and demanding, her hand leaving the hem of your skirt to meet your hip again. Your whole body filled with chills and you looked back at the paper, not wanting to disappoint the woman. You began with the first sentence, a spelling error you missed was highlighted.

“It can be hard to keep track of time when-” you were cut off by a harsh smack to your bottom. You let out a gasping breath you didn't realize you were holding in and slowly turned to look at her over your shoulder. When your eyes met with the redheads green ones they were filled with mischief and an envious lust. A small devilish smirk graced her face and she raised an eyebrow.

“Keep reading.”

You did as you were told and soon another smack was planted. She kept going as you read through the short paper. Speeding up her slaps and placing them across both sides of your ass. With every slap they grew harder and your body was pushing up against the desk. Moans escaping between sentences. You finished the paper and she moaned in disagreement breathing heavily as her own eyes threatened to shut.

“Again.”

You started again and she continued. Your ass was on fire and you loved it. Your hip bones in pain from hitting up against the desk, and your knees growing tired. You felt your arousal growing in your underwear and you began to lose your voice from your throat growing dry. Her slaps grew faster and harder and finally as you reached the end of the paper for a second time she delivered a final rough slap. She allowed herself to fall forward, her body pressed against yours and her hand coming to rest next to yours on the desk, her face inches from yours. You both breathed heavily and you allowed your eyes to shut for a moment. She moved her thumb to rub gently against your pinky in a gentle gesture to remind and reassure you of the true intentions behind her actions. As she stood back up she kissed the side of your head and straightened herself out. Fixing her hair as she used one hand to tap your hip a few times. You stood up, your back aching slightly, and your ass completely numb. You turned to face her with your cheeks red and your knees wobbling as you allowed yourself to lean back against your desk, still trying to catch your breath. She walked up to you and placed a hand to your jaw, pulling you in for a passionate kiss, her lips moving in sync with yours, slowly but deeply. She pulled away with a cocky grin, leaving your lips slightly red from her lipstick.

“Don't think your punishment is over hon, straighten yourself out and meet me in the car.” she said in a hushed and sensual tone, with a wink before letting go of your jaw and leaving your classroom.

You stood in shock for a moment before packing up your things quicker than you ever had before. Mentally preparing yourself for what is to come when you get home to Melissa’s.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #melissa x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti angst

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milfism-blog · 3 months

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“Sarò La Tua Bambina Di San Valentino”

“I will be your Valentine baby girl”

Summary: While on vacation in Sicily, you ran into a hot readhead. What might happen when a bolt of electricity will go through both of you? Will this relationship only last at the resort? Is it just Melissa's first sexual experiment or the unexpected beginning of a blissful relationship? You should probably find out…

Warning: Comphet, Melissa being confused over her sexuality, mention of Gerry, a little bit of angst, fluff, smutty, explicit content. Read at your own risk!

Word Count: 5,3k

Author's note: It is my first smutty fic! Feedback is always appreciated! Have fun reading!

02.01.2023. Sicily, Palermo

You went on your first trip to Italy, Palermo specifically. You heard a lot about the beautiful city and of course the food. So in one click you booked tickets and of course a luxurious hotel. In addition, you lately noticed you have a type for confident Italian women so you planned to go all crazy for the trip. It was your vacation after all. No one knows who you are there and you can do anything without worrying about your work colleagues making videos and making fun of you later. You were already embarrassed at the working New years party with your co-workers. You are like a big family of best friends and of course, you all were drunk and made a lot of stupid decisions. Explicitly flirting with an older Italian woman you met in a club that night. Even though it was one month ago. Your friends are still making fun of you.

Actually screaming: “Beware milfhunter might steal one of yours moms!”

And if god heard your thoughts about hot Italian women. You saw one in the lobby of a hotel. Bright red hair caught your attention immediately. Dark squared glasses were keeping her hair from covering her beautiful face. Her massive golden earrings were reflecting the warm sun. It took some time for you to take in all her gorgeous curves. She was in a jumpsuit with a deep V neck which caught your attention. You were shamelessly staring at her gorgeous breasts without a bra. Your fantasy was running wild. You would not be surprised if your mouth was open. Without exaggeration, she looked like a goddess with olive skin you wanted to desperately touch and find out how soft it would feel. Is it as soft as it looks? Oh god this is going to be a ride.

You probably were staring for a good amount of time since she noticed and now she was looking straight into your eyes. They were a deep shade of green. You felt like a bolt of electricity went right through both of you. As if she was sending lightning bolts through her gorgeous eyes. And gosh her glare sent chills on your skin.

The next day you went for breakfast and again you saw her there. She looked even more magnificent than yesterday. The morning sun was giving her olive skin a natural glow. Her deep green eyes were shining a light shade of olive. She had minimum makeup on. Just mascara to highlight her eyes and clear lip gloss. Her lips looked so full, so juicy as the most desired fruit. You wanted to taste them so bad.

When you left your table you went straight to your hotel suite. Unknowingly for you, she has followed you down the staircase. She was quietly observing you. You felt a strong gaze on your backless dress. The chills were back again. When you were about to open the door she pinned you down that hardwood door. You were shocked, to say the least. When you looked at the stronger woman. Her pupils were delayed. Not a single hint of green, only black. You were just staring at her eyes. Your heart was beating so fast as if it was going to jump from your rib cage. You missed the satisfied smirk on the redhead's lips. She was enjoying the power she was having over you. You looked like a lost mouse caught by a cat. So lost,so innocent, so deliciously accessible for her to use you. You tried to move but she pinned you harder.

“You are not going to escape me, little mouse, now are you? Pretty innocent girl is scared now? Where did all the courage go?” She asked in a mocking tone.

Her voice sent you into a starstruck phase. So raspy, deeply rich voice. Fitted her personality so well. Dominant Italian woman pinning you against your room door, what can be better?

Your eyes traveled from her beautiful eyes to her deliciously juicy lips. You gave in to the urge to passionately kiss her. And you went for it. Since she pinned your arms you tilt your head and went hard for the kiss. Your lips were desperate to get a taste of her. Her lips were as soft as silk. You couldn't hold the desperate whimper. She tasted like sweet Italian wine. Her delicate lips sent you into a euphoric state. When you took a needy breath closer to a moan. You smelled her sweet yet mucus sent. That you're gonna remember for sure. When you went again so desperately neddy for the taste to bite down her lip. So she would remember the next day who she kissed. And with that, she stopped you.

“No, no little mouse, that's not how deals are made. You are gonna listen to me and do everything I am telling you to do. Understood?” She rasped out.

Your knees buckled at her voice and demanding tone. You were not sure if you could even speak. You just nodded in surender.

“No, sweet girl, I need to hear your voice.”

“Yes ma`am" You said with a trembling voice.

“Good girl. Now open the door for me” She said in her deep voice. With a smirk on her face. She knew the effect her voice, her hands were having on you.

With weak, trembling legs you opened the door. Almost instantly you felt strong arms on your waist. She suggestively walked you down to your bedroom and pushed you on bed. You started to take your clothes down but she stopped your actions.

“No, bambina, let mommy take down all the clothes. You need to listen closely, baby. I have some rules for you. No touching mommy without asking, you're gonna listen to my instructions and behave.”

Oh if she knew the fire you were feeling all over your sensitive skin. Her delicate yet strong hands were tearing your clothes apart. The warmth from her palms was burning your skin. You already were at the edge since her first glance. You were so eager to please a marvelous stranger. The only thing you wanted her to do is use you so the only thing you will remember will be her title, her taste, her scent, her, only her.

“Come here bambina, let mommy ride your face”

You could not believe your luck, a stunning woman asking you to please her. How can you decline this delightful offer? It felt like a fever dream. She was teasingly slow taking down her clothes. She was purposely swaying her hips as if she was a predator and you were her prey. Her mouse.

She gave your neck a few bites here and there, not even bothering to smooth them. when she glanced at your face. You were totally blissed out. Completely at her mercy.

She took down her ruined panties and took a seat on your face. Your senses were filled with her significant scent. The first lick was experimental to taste her. Her taste was a little mix of salt and sweetness. It was like blessed nectar. Your warm tongue licked her delicate labia. Her hips rolled at the action. You tried to steady her with your hands, but she slept them away.

“Remember the rules little mouse” she said, sternly.

You liked her again this time with more force. You made it your goal to memorize every curve, moan, whimper, curse. You wanted to drink her nectar, you're gonna take anything she is gonna give you. Her mind blowing taste was addictive, you wanted to eat her all. To give her the best orgasm in her life. You were softly nibbling at her sensitive skin. Swirling your tongue on a fragile rose. You gently pecked her clit. She groaned. You suck on it licked it and kiss it. She was slowly losing control. She was whimpering over you.

“ahh, yes, like this, good girl!” She cried out.

Your tongue went diaper into her core, you were restless. Setting the faster rhythm. To send her over the age sooner. Since the goddess above you forbid you to use your fingers. You decided to challenge her with your skilled tongue. Switching between the suction of her bundle of nerves and going in teasing techniques of her core. Your face was covered in her sweet arousal. You were practically drowning in her scent. juices and moans.

“Don't tease miele, mommy is going to reward you, ahh like this!”

You find her spongy spot deep in her core. You gave it a few light licks. With these actions, her hips were bucking back. Her moans became louder. She was playing with her full breasts to add more pleasure to her body. Your hands were scratching the olive skin of her thighs. Leaving red marks behind on a warm flesh. Giving more sensations and stimulation. Your tongue was skillfully going up and down her core. Small kisses here and there on her overstimulated clit. With each passing second her hips were swinging, she was trying to escape your experienced tongue. Your hands were clutching her thighs diligently. Every lick, suck, nibble was bringing her faster to the edge. Her breasts were bouncing. Her nipples were screaming for attention, she tried to pinch them in hopes it would make the ache to go away. She tugged on your hair. This action made you groan at the sensation. Long lasting vibrating suck of her clit sent her over the edge. She was desperately moaning.

“You are such a good girl, little mouse” She praised you in pure bliss.

She fell on your torso. You gently kissed her. Letting her taste her pleasure. She moaned at her taste. You kissed her cheek and went straight down to clean her up with your delicate tongue. You cannot waste the sweet nectar. She whined at the overstimulation. You tenderly lapped the remains of her juices. Firstly on creamy thighs occasionally sucking on the skin. Finishing with a tender kiss right on her clit.

“That was the best orgasm in my life. You did pretty well for a little submissive mouse.” She said truthfully

“Now it is your turn bambina, mommy keeps her promises.”

With these words she crawled over you. Her usual demeanor is back. She is ready to make you squirm and cry.

What was supposed to be just a one night stand for both of you became something more, such as regular meetings, mind blowing sex, breakfast together, drinking wine together, deep talks. Simply just enjoying the company of each other. Just two of you against the world. Hell, you even moved in together, if you can call it like that. She was staying in the president lux. Big rooms, personal pool, jacuzzi, amazing balcony where you had the best talks. Her green eyes will haunt you forever. You already were feeling like you were falling in love. But you had to remind yourself, “It is just resort romance, nothing more, at least for her.”

Here comes your last day together on the 14th of February, day of love. But you could not escape the emptiness in your heart. Last day until she will disappear forever…

To your surprise, she ordered fruits and candles to set a romantic atmosphere. When you walked into the room soft jazz music was playing. Melissa walked to you with the bouquet of flowers in hand. You almost cried at the site. This is so sensual, beautiful. No one has ever done this for you. But she did. Maybe she was the one?

This gonna be one of your core memories. She already stole your heart. The goodbyes are going to be really painful.

“Are you okay? Hon?” She repeated nervously, trying to figure out what was wrong. You were just staring at her beautiful green orbs.

“If it is too much I'm so sorry I should not have to make it!” She sounded nervous, almost panicking.

You whispered, resting the warmth of your hands on her shoulders.

“I adore this so much! I've never had somebody do this for me. I really appreciate it.” You gave her assurance. caressing her and kissing her on the lips.

That final day gave you the impression of being a married couple right out of the honeymoon stage. She was carrying and completely open with you. You were both extremely delighted and nauseous from it. Tomorrow you will be flying to your home and family in a few hours. But somehow, without her, none of that made sense. Melissa was a tough woman. You figured that out while technically living together. But that specific night she let her guard down for you. And you could see the sadness in her eyes. Especially in the intimate moments when she was feeding you with a strawberry, kissing became more slow and desperate. That night was no power dynamic, just pure love and sensual kisses.

“I'm going to miss you little mouse” She spoke with obvious anguish in her voice as she conveyed her thoughts.

With these words, you shared a last kiss. You felt like part of you died with you that day…

3 months later

When you came back home you were in absolute despair. You were missing her so much it was physically hurting you. Everything, absolutely everything was reminding you of her. You were checking your phone every day in hopes of seeing a message or even a call from the redhead. Even your friends were worried for you. You spent the last three months by yourself mostly doing all your job responsibilities from home. You were looking through her pictures you took when she was unaware. Completely without makeup, happy. She was a big softie with you. One time you heard her perfume on the street. You looked like an absolutely lost dog looking for its owner. She was the only owner of your heart.

Melissa was going through one of the most challenging crises in her life. Her vocation in Palermo completely changed her as a woman and as a person. When she booked the tickets to Italy she hoped she would find a hot young guy to hook up with. That fresh blood and dick will make her forget asshole Gary. That random stranger will make her feel loved and finally, she will cum. Because apparently Gary did not know anything about a woman`s body. He was a clueless idiot and she was simulating her pleasure, he did not notice the change at all. The idiot proposed to her even though they talked a lot about the subject. He just could not or did not want to hear what his woman wanted. She was so tired of being lonely and sad all the time. Her love life was a wreck. But then you came into her life. Shamelessly staring at her but strangely she liked it. You were different, not like all the men she had been with. All her life she blocked the part of her that was thinking about experimenting with girls. Just the one thought of experimenting with a person of her gender was sending her into a panic.

But. You.

She was not ready to share with you that you were her first woman she slept with. To be completely honest she thought she was just gonna use you as fulfillment of her needs and that would be it. But the way you were looking at her, so pure, so innocent, so happy. It broke her heart to think that she was just gonna use you so she just gave it a go. “No one is going to find out” she was saying to herself every day. Of course, all her thoughts and behavior were just echoes of the stigma. Liking women at her time was counting as something she should be ashamed of and better work this problem out by marrying a man. So he can cure her.

She managed to hide that “dirty” part of herself.

But then you appeared and showed that being loved by another woman is rather a blessing than a curse. The love was so gentle, understanding, and calming. And after all, nothing bad happened, she did not die on the spot as she was told. None of the bad things she heard were true. And then she saw all the great things about you such as you understood her by just looking right into her eyes, you were gentle and honest with her no one has done this for her. The guys just did not care about her pleasure and her as a person in general. Oh and your soft gentle lips, kind eyes, humor, everything about you…

While she was lost in her thoughts, realization struck her like a frigid wave. She fell in love... Just in two weeks with a mischievous stranger. Firstly she blamed herself for letting her guard down she let herself be emotional, feel emotions, experience emotions. That's what she mastered during her life. Put the guard up, be emotionless and life will be easy. Her exes used to tell her “Why are you acting like a bratty girl, stop being so emotional, jeezz are you on your period again?” So she stopped being emotional at all. But now her well-being was dependent on her happiness, on you. So she decided to break this circle of negative emotions and call you and tell you how she feels about you, and maybe ask you to be her girlfriend. To become hers.

02.14.2024.

United States of America, South Philadelphia

It was Valentine's Day again. You felt a sense of dejavu reliving all the memories from the past. It took long enough for The Melissa Ann Kathrine Schemmenti to finally ask you out and ask you officially to be her girlfriend. But you didn't mind. You would wait for her as long as needed. She was like your special delicate, sensitive flower, you were a caretaker, you were patient and loving to see her blossom for you. When she did you were stunned by her true colors and personality. There were no masks, facade for both of you. Just pure love. You wanted to make her feel extra special on this day, which was also your anniversary (almost, but nonetheless). And it is going to be your first Valentine's as a couple. So exciting!

But since you want to make this day special that does not mean you will not tease her. You like to push her buttons and see her reaction. And today was even more thrilling. You bought special lingerie for the occasion. Of course, you like to spoil your girl by buying new lingerie and see her reaction. You created a plan, you went to buy a new undergarments set. To your luck on Valentine's, there are a lot to choose from. One looked specifically spicier than the others, that's what you need! It had heart-shaped cutting on the nipples, with a light pink lace. It gave your breasts amazingly good lift even though this piece did have a push-up effect. To finish the lustful garment there is a cherry red thong with a small heart with a text that says “Eat me”. You put that on, you looked absolutely amazing. Reds and pinks colors were bringing accent to your skin tone, the thong was giving your ass more roundness. Mel would definitely like it. You also found light pink stockings, oh you knew how this look would make Melissa go absolutely crazy over you.

Your mind visited a naughty thought. You took your phone it lit up with the photo of you and your girlfriend laughing in Palermo. Your heart swelled with love. You opened the camera app and began to pose. The first one was you touching your unique bra, using your other hand to cover your nipples a little bit. The other one was you bending down and putting your ass up purposely to give it more roundness. Maybe it was not smart to take these photos and send them to your beloved Melissa during work but just thought about seeing her flustered and a little nervous. The thought of you turning her on was seducing you too much. And of course, you wanted to have fun tonight. In no time you got a response.

La mia dea italiana (my Italian goddess)

“Oh bambina, don't start something you can't finish, but the set look exquisite on you or I rather should say you look exquisite my darling.”

But you know her tough response is a facade. In reality, she is sitting in her classroom in her free period trying to play it cool because right now her mind is getting crazy by just one look at the amazing bra or the thong. You literally set fuel to the fire. But again, you are gonna worry later, or you might enjoy restless Melissa Schemmenti…

The sound of soft Italian jazz music welcomed you when you arrived home. The memories of your last night with the fiery redhead in Italy came flooding back, but now you realize you have plenty of time to spend together. You smiled at the realization that she is yours and you are hers. Hearts tied together. While taking off your boots, you noticed the path made of red petals heading towards your bedroom. And it clicked, Mel was recreating your last night in Italy. The roses, the music. You decided not to waste more time, excited to see what your beautiful girlfriend prepared for you. When you went upstairs there was an envelope with text on it “Open Me”. You eagerly opened it, it had instructions for you. “Hello again my sweet mouse, read closely, take off your clothes, stay only in your new lingerie set, and head upstairs!”

You rushed out of your clothes, even the nickname “mouse” She definitely was recreating your night. You assumed she wanted to make things right this time? No more sadness, just pure bliss.

You opened the door to your bedroom and your mouth fell open at the view. The gorgeous redhead had a proud smirk on her lips. Evidently pleased with the reaction she got from you. You were too stunned to speak. The smoking hot Melissa Schemmenti had nothing but a pair of dark red lace thong without any bra just her exquisite breasts. Soft creamy skin was calling for you to kiss, caress, lick, touch it. When you looked more closely you noticed that her rosey nipples were covered with chocolate. On the bedside table were strawberries waiting for you to use them, fresh melted chocolate in a bowl was ready for use. You walked down to her as you were enchanted by her breasts.

“Come here little mouse, I might need your help.” she fake paunted. Her eyes were telling you the other story. They were glistering with lust.

While you were occupied by shamelessly staring at her breasts, she was taking in your form with the new lingerie that you bought for her. She was practically eating you up with her eyes as if you were her prey.

“I figured you might like this il mio dolce tesoro, do not contain your stares. I absolutely love when you look at or touch my amazing tits. I know you love them. It is still vivid in my memory how you were eyeing my girls in that hotel lobby. Absolutely shamelessly, you are such a naughty girl. But I love you for it. My naughty mouse”

You could not believe your luck. Mel prepared all this sweet yet spicy, to be honest overly spicy, and all of this just for you, just for your eyes to see, your tongue to taste, to devour.

“But we have some rules here, like last time. Rules for my favorite little mouse. First, you are going to address me only as ma`am, mistress, and mommy. Second, you are not allowed to take off my thong, this night is only about my tits and my titis only. Since you were brave enough to tease me during my work hours. You get a challenge if you can make me cum by just using your skilled tongue and hands on my breasts. Today you're gonna make me finish by just eating and admiring my breasts.”

She announced the rules. Her beautiful green olives are gone in a lustful gaze. You can see how her breathing is erratic. Her eyes are focused on you. Almost silently asking you to start.

“Yes, mistress” you breathed out. Your thighs are pressing together in need of any sort of friction.

You sat on her lap. Melissa could feel your ruined underwear on her thighs. While she was streaked with the new sensation of your clothed pussy on her warm inviting thigh. Oh, how you wanted to take a ride... But just one stern look from your beloved Italiano made you behave. You wanted to be her good girl. Melissa, unlike you, could not take the tension any longer she yanked a fistful of your hair. Passionately inviting you for a bruising kiss. You whimpered at the sensation. She was restless. Biting hard on your lip just to slide her dominant tongue into your warm mouth. This action made you unconsciously desperately grind onto her soft creamy thigh.

“Ah, ah little mouse is breaking the rules again” She stated with a sly smirk playing on her puffy lips.

Still having her hand in your hair she pulled you straight into her tits. You moaned at the action right between delicate skin. Melissa was completely drowning you in her exquisite breasts. You were totally blissed out, your face pressed between her tits. Giving up any sort of control, you give in to the desire to bite down soft flesh. Smoothing down with your warm gentle tongue. Melissa responded with a groan. Her olive skin was covered in shivers. Just from one action. It was no secret for both of you that her breasts were subject of admiration. She also loved them, loved the attention she got from you. Now it was a research question to see how sensitive her breasts are and how many minutes, or hours would it take for you to make her cum?

“Tesoro, do this again!” she groaned out.

You bit her again. Taking the heated bowl with the meted warm chocolate you covered your tits in the steaming liquid. You shivered at the warm tingly sensation. Making your rosey buds harden almost instantly. Mel licked her lips before launching her tender lips and sucking on your right nipple. You let out a cry at the delicious feeling. Of her lips on your nipple softly nibbling on the pointy flesh. Her other hand palmed your left tit. Using her nails to tease the nipple. The sensations were sending you into bliss. Her scent, her warm inviting skin, warmth radiating from her big breasts. You closed your eyes to focus more on the pleasure she was giving you.

“Agh, mommy, please, bite me again agh, rougher plaeaase” You screamed from the sensations. The pool in your underwear was no help. You became more needy with every passing second.

You practically glazed more chocolate on her inviting breasts. Slowly licking the tender olive skin. You started with the top, kitten licking right breast, gently sucking on the skin around her areola. You were teasing, changing speed between agonizingly slow to faster with your tongue drawing different patterns. One of them was the word “mine”. Caressing the other breast with your nails. Giving a firm quiz here and there. Melissa was getting overwhelmed with feelings. She was so sensitive, everywhere. Firstly her breasts were on fire, pleasantly carried away with your skillful tongue, you sweet words you were drawing with your tongue on her breasts. The warm hand that was palming her left breast was sending light pulsations straight to her pussy. She became so putty in your hands.

“Like that, good girl, you are doing so great, just suck nipples, they are aching for your experienced tongue” She cried out. Pressing your lips closer to her overstimulated nipples.

Her praise was making your pussy clench around nothing. You were so happy to please your mistress. So eager to make her cum. Like no other men on this planet will. The sweetness of chocolate was mixing up with the significant taste of your gorgeous girlfriend. Making you want to devour her without mercy. Her fragrance was interacting with a sweet scent of chocolate. Revealing new muscusy notes in the air. Her strawberry lip gloss was like a cherry on top of the sweetness. All your senses were blessed with her gorgeous presence.

Your velvety lips were gently sucking on her exuberant nipples. Redhead responded with a breathy moan. She harshly pressed you into her exquisite breast. Too lost in the moment to care. You started to bite down slowly on the puffy bud. Changing the frequency of suction and biting. Gazing your teeth over a chocolaty-covered nipple adds more dopamine to your system. The taste of skin with sweetness was an amazing combination for your taste buds. Switching to another nipple you bit harder, smoothing harsh sensation with a lapping of your tongue. Taking a break from her nipples made her a whining mess.

“Amore…” Melissa whined out, while squirming her hips.

“Please, do-dont stop” She complained.

You took more strawberries and chocolate. You covered her reddened buds with chocolate and squirted strawberries over her breasts. Not caring where it will lend. As if there is no tomorrow you began to follow down the drops of juice. Making patterns, softly nibbling, and harshly biting down the pinkish flash.

“Tesoro please, I am so, so closeeeee” she was a crying mass. The overstimulation made her brain get foggy. She became more whinny. Desperately trying to get her release.

You were practically sucking out her buds, areolas, using your tongue to tease, smooth, irritate, and get a reaction from a hot beast. Your delicate hands were palming her puffy tits. Your nails were gazing over and over over sensitive pointed rosy skin. One last suck of your tongue, one lust swirl of your hand on her nipple sends her over to the sweetest release she got from this type of stimulation. Her eyes got lost in the back of her head. Her hips are uncontrollably bucking against nothing. Her hands firmly tugging on your hair, pressing hard into her tits. Her thighs are moving intensively which makes your hips join her rhythm to saddle over her thigh. You were following her movements to make you reach your desired release together. You collapsed in bed. Heavy gasping for air.

“ Well, well you did pretty good for a little muse, il mio amore”

With these words, you shared a passionate, loving kiss. And that night you had the best sleep in each other's arms. Melissa finally felt content and loved. She did not regret her decision to start a resort romance. Now she has her girl. Sleeping right beside.

What a Valentines…

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perfectsunlight · 7 months

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LOGICAL ⸻ LISA MANOBAL (SMAU)

"...𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲."

SYNOPSIS: love is never logical, and you are half responsible.

TAGS: smau, written, basketball player!lisa x teammate!reader, established relationship, non-idol au, heavy angst, wlw.

WARNINGS: manipulation, toxic relationship, arguments, emotional abuse, self sabotage, anger issues, untreated mental illness, power struggle, mild substance abuse, heavy language, dark themes, lisa is a bad gf and you're just as bad for staying with her.

STATUS: in progress...

UPDATE SCHEDULE: 2-3 times a week

PROFILES: YGU | VIPERS | MVPS | FIRST CLASS

01. master manipulator

02. reminder

03. liability

04. homeless ant

05. ur mom

06. lisa's birthday

07. princess

more to come...

TAGLIST ⸺ ✭ @silantryoo @rosiehrs @niniwhiskers @cwpiqwon @jisooftme @1luvkarina @scarfac3 @santasbitch @lisas-earlobe @wallfl9wer @aerihiltonn @unforgivenangel @uzumakioden @skydreamed @haerinfangs @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @haerinkisser @giginings @lilsvx @milanlaia @pandafuriosa60 @wifey-badalee @slowlyturninggay291

OPEN!! comment below this post to be added.

#smau #kpop smau #blackpink #blackpink smau #lisa x reader #lisa manobal #blackpink x reader #lisa manobal x reader #kpop angst #wlw #angst #blackpink angst #original work #logical #perfectsunlight

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jaqueline19997 · 2 months

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I love this man so much!!!! I feel like every day I love him just a little more!!!!❤️💓💞

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asolitaryrose3 · 4 months

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Are you jealous?

Melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

Summary: Reader is shy and feels like Melissa is far to out of their league, but with enough nagging from Ava, and the presence of Gary, they finally tell Melissa how they feel.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, jealous reader, comfort, Gary (for the plot only), my failed attempt at humour, Ava and readers are besties, Most of this was wrote at 3am, first time posting my fics on here, I’m trying my best.

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“I think you should tell her” Ava suggested, “why, so she can laugh in my face and ruin the perfectly good relationship we have? Yeah, No thanks.” You joked slumping further into your chair.

When you had joined Abbott you had instantly fell in love with the people there, janine, although she could sometimes be annoying at times, you know she means well by it all. Jacob was like a brother to you, he was nerdy and sometimes ruined a joke or two, but for the most part he was caring. Gregory took some time to open to you, but when he finally did, he was surprisingly funny and good to be around. Barbara was one of the kindest people you had met in your life, you saw how she mothers the younger teachers, Janine mostly, and it was sweet and admittedly wholesome to be around.

Melissa was at first cold and icy toward you, which you later learned that was normal for her, but eventually she warmed up to you. After some time she started to bring in cannolis from your favourite bakery, more recently though she started to even bring in home cooked lunches for you. She was sweet and you admired her, but eventually you realised after a while, that you had developed a crush on her. You knew she wouldn’t like you like that though, You were quiet and awkward, while she was strong and confident, not to mention gorgeous, and so you figured a woman like her, a woman who deserves the best, wouldn’t settle for a person like you. But that was fine, if friendship was all you could have, you were fine with that but, a date or two would be nice though.

Ava was your best friend at Abbott and the only person that knew about your little crush on the second grade teacher. When you first met Ava she thought you were like Jacob or janine, more on the awkward side, but when she ran into you one night clubbing, she found that you weren’t at all like you were at school.

That was why you were currently sat in Ava’s office sulking in the chair across from her desk. “But what if she feels the same though? I mean, your hot, so I don’t see why she wouldn’t” Ava said putting her feet onto her desk. “How could Melissa Schemmenti like me?” You questioned. “Oh come on? What are you gonna wait till someone else swipes her up? Girl c’mon live a little, you can’t avoid her forever” Ava asked, her face now serious. “Cause have you seen that vending machine guy? he’s been makin’ moves on your lady” she continued. “He has?” You turned to her with wide eyes, normally you would be in the break room at lunch but since your realisation you’ve been staying in your classroom as of late, not that you don’t want to be near Melissa, but you thought that if you distanced yourself, your feelings would eventually go away.

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same?” You questioned, concern filling your face. “But what if she does though?” Ava countered, The bell rang as she finished. Letting out a sigh you finally agreed with Ava, “alright, we’ll I’ve got to go get my kids from the gym” You pushed yourself up from your chair and walked out of your friends office.

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The next period ran over quicker than you thought it would. You were dreading going to lunch. You knew Melissa would never like you and yet after talking to Ava you somehow gained this false hope that if you asked Melissa out before Gary did, then maybe, you had a chance.

Finally, after many minutes of persuasion you went into the break room, you only saw Barbara at first, but then you saw…him. You had forgot Gary stocked the vending machine today, you saw the questioning look sent your way from Barbara, you walked straight over to the counter and grabbed your cup out of the cupboard and started to make a coffee, as you waited for the drink to finish you began overthinking everything, you knew you should have never thought you had a chance, it was obvious that Gary liked Melissa and of course she would like him back, he was good looking and he was sweet and thoughtful. Barbara had said it herself a while back, even she saw that they would be perfect together, and how could Barbara Howard be wrong?

The beep of the machine in front of you rang through your ears as you broke out of your thoughts. Grabbing the cup you tried to get out of the room as fast as you could. Opening the door you almost bumped into someone, it was Melissa.

“hey hon, slow down, your gonna trip over someone-” The second grade teacher hushed, “hon, are you alright?” She continued. The care in her voice sent a pang of pain to your heart, you didn’t want to avoid her anymore, but you knew it was for the best. “Yeah Mel, I’m fine” you rushed past her, practically running to your classroom.

You slammed the door behind you and slumped down in your chair. You threw your head back and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Not long after, you heard a knock on your door and you groaned at having to talk to someone when you were on the verge of tears.

“Go away Ava” you murmured, with your eyes closed. You heard the door open and you began to speak again “Ava I’m not in the mood-” when you opened your eyes you had realised your mistake. “Oh- Um, hey Mel, sorry I thought you were Ava coming to talk about one of the student’s dad or whatever” you half laughed trying to seem alright in front of the redhead. Mel perched herself on the side of your desk, crossing her arms. “care to tell me why you haven’t been coming to lunch?” She questioned with a raised brow. “I- I’m just catching up on marking”

You weren’t necessarily lying when you said that. Most off your time was actually spent grading papers, while the rest was spent either sleeping or wallowing in your own self pity. “For two weeks straight?” She frowned at your petty excuse. “Tell me what’s wrong Hon, please” she pleaded with you, but you couldn’t look at her, “why do you care, shouldn’t you be with Gary” the words left your tongue like venom, the very Mention of the man made your fist clench and your heart ache. “Why would I be with Gary?” She questioned, confused at the relevance he had in all of this. “I don’t know, maybe because you always are.” You mumbled, jealousy taking over your words. “Oh c’mon that’s not true and you know it” She reasoned. “Oh please, every time he’s here, you only talk to him.” You retorted.

Melissa grew silent after that, as she re shifted her focus to your face. You felt you face flush beat red under her unrelenting gaze. After a while, her furrowed brow raised as a smirk grew on her face. Melissa stood from her seated position on the side of your desk and sauntered her way toward you. As she stopped in front of you, she lent down and grabbed both of the arms on the chair. With her arms trapping you and her legs either sides of your now closed knees, you were practically unable to move.

“Are you jealous, hun?” She asked, the humour in her voice evident. “I-uh…No, why would I be?” You stuttered out, knowing you did not seem convincing at all, as you looked down and away from the woman. You felt one of her hands grasp your chin in her hand and forced you to look her in the eyes, “I want your eyes on me, sweetheart” she practically growled, “now, are you jealous of Gary?” She asked again, her voice significantly lower than before. You contemplated on lying to her again, but as you stared into her piecing eyes, you felt you brain go foggy from her close proximity.

“Well, I- uh…maybe, yes” you mumbled as you stared at her with an anxious look, “I- I like you Melissa, like really like you” Melissa’s eyes softened, as she smiled. “That’s good to know” she chuckled. Suddenly you felt Melissa’s lips meet yours, you froze at the sudden action but melted in to her soft touch shortly after. You whined as she pulled away with a smirk. “I like you too by the way” she laughed again at seeing the adoring look on your features. “Wait but I thought you liked Gary?” You questioned. “Oh please, sure he’s nice, but you? Your amazing hun, I’ve practically liked you ever since you got here” Melissa smiled sweetly at you. “I’ve like you since you got here too” you grinned back at her.

“I was thinking, how bout this weekend you could come over to mine and we can have dinner?” She asked, sounding very small as she spoke. You smiled at her hoping to comfort her, “I would love to Mel." She rose to a standing position, she kissed the top of your head as she did so. “I’ll see you later, hun” You watched as she left and you smiled to yourself at the feeling of lips that still lingered on both the top of your head and your own lips. You spun in your chair at the thought of dinner with Melissa.

Once you turned to the direction of the door, you saw Ava’s head appear from around the doorframe. As she walked in to the room you the look she was giving you, “tell me everything” she gasped with shared excitement.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti imagine #wlw #fluff #light angst #comfort #abbott elementary

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 9 months

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Mel’s Terms of Endearment Headcanons ~Melissa Schemmenti xFem Girlfriend!Reader

It struck me that since Melissa is Italian, there could be some great headcanons for nicknames for her girlfriend. I found this page, that was helpful on Italian terms of endearment. And so, I bring you these headcanons: (Also, this is by no means an exhaustive list of the nicknames I think Melissa would use)

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: implied NSFW, lots of fluff, blushing, light teasing, terms of endearment, pet names, nicknames, kissing, PDA, jealousy, implied exhibitionist kink, implied strap-on fucking, body adoration, rough menstrual cycle, implied smut, quick heated kiss, comforting, little angst, fluffy fluff fluff, etc.

Enjoy (:

Hun’

Hun’ is for most public situations. This is Mel’s across the board term of endearment when there are others around.

“Hey Hun’…?” Melissa called out from her classroom to you passing in the hallway.

You feet immediately swiveled to the sound of your girlfriend summoning you. You popped your head into the classroom full of kids and your favorite red head.

“Yeah, what’s up, Mel?” You lovingly chirped.

The woman swayed over to you.

“I think I left some copies for my class on the printer… Would you mind watching my class while I go grab them?” She gently asked, batting her eyelashes at you.

You chuckled lightly and blushed.

You couldn’t ever deny this woman anything…

“I’m going to the office anyway, let me grab your copies for you…” you answered.

Melissa’s face lit up and a smirk plastered her face.

“Love ya…!” She cooed, quiet enough for none of the kids to hear.

“You too, baby…” you replied in a hushed tone, turning around and making your way to the office for the red head.

~~~

Babe

Babe is a higher level of Hun’. Mel uses it sometimes in public, and it’s a tad more affectionate. This her go-to if she wants to establish that your hers…

Barbara had a teachers aid this year. Not that’s he needed it, no, not at all. But Barbara had volunteered to take the sweet girl on, so that she could learn a bit about teaching first hand.

She was young, like you. She was actually younger than you, but closer in age than you and Melissa. And she immediately took to liking you.

A little too much in Melissa’s opinion…

Melissa was at lunch per usual, and she was taking rather harsh stabs at her salad.

“Melissa, Dear, now what has that salad done to you…?” Barbara teased lightly, but also genuinely curious and concerned for her colleague.

“Your new teachers aid…” The red head grumbled.

“What are you—” Barbara began, but her eyes got distracted at you in the hallway.

You were just trying to walk to the break room, when the young woman stepped in front of you. You yelped slightly. She began talking to you and very obviously flirting a bit.

It’s not that she was horrible… Your heart simply belonged to someone else. But she had taken you so aback and was talking so much, you barely got a word in. From the corner of your eye, you could see Barbara and Melissa watching.

You could feel Melissa’s hard and intent gaze…

And before you knew it, the red head was up from her seat and beside you. She linked her arm around yours and looked to you.

“Don’t mean to interrupt…”

She most definitely did.

“But I need your help, Babe… In my classroom. Now.” She gritted out with the most fake smile.

She practically dragged you back to her classroom, closed the door, and slammed you against it. Her lips smashed against yours. You moaned lightly at her fervor.

“Mel… we’re in public…” you panted.

“Don’t Care… she can’t have you… your mine…” she rambled into the kiss.

You chuckled lightly and took the woman by the cheeks, meeting her gaze.

“Baby, im yours. Only yours. No one else’s.” You reassured your girlfriend.

This seemed to calm her down a bit.

“Alright…” she sighed.

“Good.”

You smiled lightly and gave her a peck on the lips.

“But I get first dips on the strap when we get home…” she murmured.

You dropped your jaw for dramatic effect and swatted the red head. This led to both of you chuckling and laughing your way happily back to the break room.

~~~

Cutie

Cutie is reserved for Melissa’s sweet and tender moments or her term for you when she’s edging you in or out of your subspace. This one is not said in public as much, it’s more of a private, little nickname that never fails to make you blush…

You sat on the couch, cradling yourself, a tub of ice cream at your side, and the tv on. You had called out of work today, because of your cramps. They were the worst sometimes. At best, you were in constant, stabbing pains, but still able to walk. At worst, they completely incapacitated you.

At 6, your red headed girfriend walked through the door. Her eyes immediately met your hurting frame. She put her stuff down, taking her jacket off, and made her way over to you on the couch. She placed the ice cream on the living room table and you whimpered slightly.

But you sighed out in content as the red head moved you to lay in her lap. She began stroking your hair and moving down your frame. Eventually, your eyes moved from the tv screen to Mel’s. Your eyes were glossy and looked exhausted.

“Hey Baby…” Melissa gently cooed.

“Hi…” your hoarse throat managed to get out.

“Haven’t slept…?”

You shook your head. The red head hummed in response, continuing to caress your frame.

Another thing about your period… It made your hormones wild. It was like a heat…

You could feel your core already warming up in need, and your hips began to move instinctually into your girlfriends lap. You then felt her hands pick you up, so that you were sitting in her lap.

“Want me to take care of ya…?” She lovingly asked.

You pouted with your lips and eyes, nodding eagerly. Melissa chuckled lightly at how adorable you were.

“Such a hopeless Cutie, aren’t ya…?” She softly purred.

You bit your lip and nodded. She then began taking off the oversized hoodie, exposing your chest to the woman. Her eyes widened at your top naked half.

Damn, she would never get tired of your body…

~~~

Amore (love)

Amore is when Mel is feeling romantic or wants to express her commitment to you. This is to remind you and her of your partnership and her Italian roots. This is for more intimate, loving moments, and is used less, but on occasion in public.

It was date night.

Every Friday, you and your red headed girlfriend set aside everything for date night. With both of you working, you had found it tricky to get time with each other. Date night was one solution to this dilemma.

You walked through the front door and were immediately met with the aroma of Mel’s fabulous cooking.

She must have beaten you home…

You set down your things and made your way into the kitchen. The red head was standing by the counter, making a sauce of some sorts. You came up from behind and wrapped your arms around the woman. Melissa immediately relaxed at your touch.

“Heyyy Amore…” she hummed.

“Hi Baby…” you whispered, beginning to lovingly pepper kisses along her neck and shoulders.

“Watcha making…?” You curiously asked.

“Ravioli…” Melissa hummed.

You hummed in delight at the red heads words.

“I’ll set the table…!” You chirped, making Melissa chuckle lightly.

Once the table has been set, and Melissa had brought over the food, you two could properly eat. But before you both went to sit down, you stopped the red head by the side of the table, lovingly connecting your lips to hers. She caringly met your lips. You both hummed happily into each others lips. But as soon as the kiss was getting heated, your girlfriend pulled away.

“Later Amore, Let’s eat first…” she cooed.

You bit your lip, blushing lightly, and nodded in agreement. You both then sat down and enjoyed your meal, discussing each others days and such.

Later indeed…

~~~

Cucciola (cub/baby)

Cucciola is used by Mel for sweet, intimate moments where she somehow has the upper hand, power, something over you. It’s very loving like Amore. But also on the other hand, this is the nickname for her replacement for Baby. Melissa uses this in more private occasions and less in public, but when she does use it in public, it never fails to make you blush.

Melissa waltzed into the break room and sat down next to Barbara.

“Well you seem awfully chipper today, dear…” Barb hummed.

Melissa had a big smile plastered on her face as she nodded.

“Got my leftover lasagna from the weekend with me…!” She quipped.

But as the red head went to open her lunch bag, she realized it wasn’t hers… It was yours… She internally smacked herself in the face. A frustrated groan left the woman’s lift.

“What’s wrong?” Barbara asked.

“Accidentally swapped my lunch with Y/N’s…” she grumbled, packing your salad back up and standing up.

“Be right back…!” She sighed.

Melissa walked down the hallways until she reached your classroom. She knocked lightly, hating to interrupt you as you were finishing up your class. You came to the door, your face brightening at the sight of your girlfriend.

“Hey Baby… What’s up…?” You whispered.

“Our lunches seem to be swapped.” She spoke in a low tone, showing you your lunch bag, “Be a doll and grab mine, Cucciola…?”

Your breath hitched lightly at the nickname and blushed. You nodded and immediately went to your desk and grabbed Melissa’s lunch, bringing it back to the door.

“Thank you, Cucciola.” She sighed in relief, “You’re a lifesaver…”

She gave you a kiss on the cheek and left, leaving you light headed and flustered.

~~~

Cucciolina (little cub/baby)

Cucciolina is close to Cucciola, except it’s used at an even more extreme of when Mel wants to show her being above you in some way. It’s also a very soft term of endearment. This is rarely used in public, unless Melissa is purposely teasing you somehow.

You were cuddled up with your red headed girlfriend on the couch when the oven timer started blaring through the room.

Your face lit up with excitement and giddiness, and you practically jumped off Melissa’s lap, running into the kitchen. You could already smell it… Mel’s famous baked ziti.

“Wait, Amore!! Be careful, it’s hot—!!” The woman warned with a shout to you in the kitchen.

But you did not head her advice. No, you were too excited. Melissa got up from the couch with a chuckle. She heard a little bit of clattering and then silence. She made her way into the kitchen, only to find you sitting on the counter, your face contorted in pain and your hand cradling three of your fingers. Tears threatened to form.

The red head immediately rushed over to you, checking you up and down to see the extent of your injuries.

“Cucciolina, what happened??” She spoke, her tone laced with care and concern.

You looked at the woman with your lips trembling slightly. She then moved her focus to your face and fingers, watching a silent tear escape your eyelid.

“I… too hot… didn’t think… Mel…hurts…” you whimpered, in pain but also embarrassed that you hadn’t listened to Melissa, and a few more tears escaped your eyes.

She took your three fingers to examine the damage, and she wasn’t going to lie, you had burned yourself pretty badly. Melissa took you in her embrace lovingly, comforting you.

“I’m here, Cucciolina, don’t you worry… It’s okay to cry… I’ll take care of you.” She cooed.

You nodded with more tears falling down your cheeks and running down your chin. The red head proceeded to kiss your tears away. She then went to the oven, turned it off, and went over to the freezer to grab some ice. She wrapped the ice around a towel and wrapped that around your finger.

Melissa then scooped you up and carried you back to the couch, laying you in her lap. You snuggled into the woman’s embrace. Silence took the room, except for your occasional whimpers and silent tears. The red head eventually began caressing your form, running her fingers through your hair and stroking your spine lovingly.

“Mel…? Can I have some baked ziti…?” You eventually whispered.

This made the Melissa chuckle lightly.

“Sure, Amore. I’ll get you some.” She cooed.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

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oneofthetorturedpoets · 6 months

Note

Hey idk if you’re still taking requests or not, but if you are could you please write one where Melissa and Reader were in a long term relationship and decided to have kids but after the first couple rounds of IVF doesn’t work, which causes Melissa to overthink and end their relationship. And after a few weeks reader starts to feel sick and finds out she’s pregnant but when she try’s to tell Melissa she finds out she’s blocked so she decides to not to not wanting to mess up Mel’s life. And after a few years they run into each other only Reader has a little red head, you can choose how you want the gaps and the rest to go just please a fluffy ending

not again

“what ever the stick says, it will be okay” you said, trying to mentally prepare yourself, melissa gently grabs your hand.

“i’m here with you, my love” you turn the test around, looking at the results. ‘negative’ written on the small screen.

“fuck” your heart drops, tears immediately filling up your eyes. melissa takes you in her arms as you fall apart.

“it’s okay, you’re alright” her hand runs down your back at an attempt to sooth you.

after hours of crying you finally fell asleep in melissa’s arms, she holds you tight as she silently cries. it’s been almost a year of you guys trying to get pregnant, the ivf treatments are exhausting, the proof is in your eyes. you’ve been obsessing over getting pregnant, trying day in and day out, hoping for something to work. you and melissa haven’t had time for each other, it’s been months since you’ve went on a date, it’s creating a hole in your relationship.

all of this thinking causes melissa to spiral, what if it’s her fault you can’t get pregnant? shes the one who brought up the ivf idea, she’s the one pushing so hard. melissa is already 55, why is a 55 year old trying to have a baby? why is she’s messing with a 20 something year old? you have your whole life ahead of you, what does she give you? melissa starts panicking, she jumps out of bed, wiping her eyes. she grabs a suitcase, stuffing it with all of her clothes and important belongings.

once she’s all pack, she walks over to your side of the bed, staring at you one last time. her hand reaches out tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. she leans down, kissing your lips with as much passion as she can manage. she pulls her wedding ring off, sitting it on the nightstand next to you, walking out of the room, leaving you there alone.

your eyes flutter open, the sun beams in your eyes. you roll over, patting the other side of the bed, you feel the cold sheets. you sit up, leaning over to grab your phone, looking at the time ‘8:43’. she shouldn’t have left the house yet.

“melissa?” you call out as you get up. no reply is heard so you make your way to the kitchen “are you here?” you continue through the house until you find a note left on the coffee table in your living room.

‘i’m sorry. i’m sorry i let the insecurities get the best of me. i’m sorry i’m leaving you like this. i’m sorry i couldn’t give you a kid. you are the love of my life, but im not yours, you’re young, you still have your whole life ahead of you. i don’t know how i got so full of myself, thinking we could work. i hope you find someone who is able to give you the life you deserve, im sorry that wasn’t me. i’ll love you forever, y/n/n’

you drop the paper, tears falling down your face as you stand still, in shock of what you just read. you let yourself fall onto the couch, sobbing into your hands.

“you’re pregnant!” your doctor says as she moves the screen to show you, your ultrasound. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“w-what?” your heart fills with hope.

“you’re pregnant, the test showed a false negative. congratulations, y/n. you deserve this” she says before leaving you to sit with the news. you pull out your phone, searching up melissa’s contact. your thumb hovers over the call button before pressing it, you hold the phone up to your ear.

“the number you are trying to reach-” the phone calls out, your heart drops once again. you can’t even contain yourself anymore, crying out. how are you supposed to raise a kid on your own?

five years later.

you decided to move to back to philly, you never would’ve left if it wasn’t for melissa. walking into your new place, you breathed in the new smell, feeling content with your surroundings.

“where’s my room, mama?” your daughter, ann, asks while pulling on your pant leg.

“come on, i’ll show you!” you pick her up, walking her down the hallway.

after unpacking, you and ann were beat. you felt like your back was going to break if you lifted another box.

“can we get ice cream? please?” she pleads, giving you were best puppy dog eyes.

“hmm, i’ll have to think about it” you say jokingly, while tapping your chin.

“mommm” your daughter whines, chuckling slightly.

“alright, we can go. just because you’ve been a huge little helper” you poke her stomach, gently as she giggles and tries to run away from you.

you open the door for ann, letting her run into the shop. she’s leans onto the glass, looking over each one of them.

“calm down, baby. we aren’t in a rush” you say, picking her up so that she can see the flavors better.

Unbeknownst to you, melissa is sitting at a table. her heart is in her throat, unable to think. she can’t look away from you, was that really you? after all this time, you look different. your hair is darker, your smile lines slightly more visible. you’re much happier.

melissa stares at the kid in your arms, her red hair more vibrant than she’s ever seen. you must have the life she imagined you had.

“melissa?” in the time it took for her to gather her thoughts, you had already saw her. she couldn’t face you, not after how she cowardly left you. melissa was up and out of the store faster than she’s moved in years. unfortunately to her, you were faster, already on her tail.

“melissa! wait!” you call out, trying to sped up “you don’t get to run away this time” you grab her arm, stopping her. she turns around, her eyes meeting yours. her gaze softens, she missed being this close to you.

“i’m sorry, i cant-” you cut her off.

“you left me, in the middle of the night with a fucking note” you say, stepping closer to her.

“language, mama” your daughter says in a stern tone, your head clearing. you step back, away from melissa.

“i’m sorry, honey. it won’t happen again” you kiss her forehead “go back inside and see what flavor you want” you say, setting her on the ground. she runs inside.

“how old is she?” melissa says, her voice cracking slightly.

“four, almost five” you say before taking a deep breath “she’s yours melissa” her eyes widen as she gasps.

“she-she’s mine?” you nod, melissa walks up to the window, watching ann point at the ice cream “what’s her name?” she looks at you.

“ann y/l/n… after you” the guilt builds up in her chest, she left you with a kid to raise by yourself because she was too selfish.

“can i meet her?” she whispers.

“she deserves to know you” you walk inside before her. she lets out a shaky breath, trying to contain herself as she walks inside. the little girl turns to her and smiles at her.

“hi, i’m ann” melissa’s heart melts “who are you?” melissa looks up at you, unsure of what to say.

“baby, this is your other mama, the one i tell you about” the girl gasps.

“really!?” you nod, smiling “i’ve been waiting for you! mama says that you’ve been in outer space, helping the aliens” melissa chuckles.

“yes i have been, they told me to tell you hi” ann jumps into melissa’s arms, hugging her tightly.

“please don’t leave again” she says to her mom. melissa grabs your hand, the spark you always had years ago, came back, shocking you. you smile down at her.

“i never will, hon… not again” she says as she stares at you.

#abbott elementary #fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti fic #law #law fic #wlw fiction #fem!reader #my fic #angst with a happy ending

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queenimmadolla · 2 months

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

previous — next part ┊ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( + playlist)

Summary: You learn the identity of your new undead friend, get a mini ‘makeover’, catch your crush’s attention and bury a body while Eddie learns throwing up on the girl he’s interested in probably doesn’t display his potential as a boyfriend, but his protective nature might.

Chapter Warnings: a stinky boy, dark humor, unpleasant home life, intense longing (on eddie’s behalf). oh yeah, and murder.

a/n: so i lied, this is actually longer than the first chapter and i accepted my fate. we’re getting to the fun stuff, though. next up: more vigilante justice, eddie lore and emerging feelings for a certain dead man walking. hope you like it!

light dividers ℗ cafekitsune ♡

“C’mon, over here.” You gestured to your open doorway, watching your new zombie pal hobble up the final step and round the staircase. His movements were harsh, stiff as hell and made your bones hurt to watch for whatever reason. Every over limp was accompanied by an inhuman grunt, and you wondered if moving his limbs might actually be painful for him.

You were never particularly skilled in the art of masking your emotions, so your eyebrows were furrowed, mouth parted and upper lip tucked up to clearly display your phantom discomfort.

Once he was close enough, you crossed over the threshold, standing a little in front of your bed as he wandered in, large eyes immediately raking over everything on your walls. After beckoning him further in, you moved around the filthy corpse standing in your room to close the door.

“Despite your deadly good looks, we can’t risk anyone seeing you. No one else can know you’re here.” You informed him, trying to stress the seriousness of the situation without seeming too controlling. While you had waited for The Zombie to struggle up the stairs, you’d determined there were three possible ways this town would react to discovering a member of the dead had risen—that only seemed to be socially acceptable and celebrated in the form of Jesus Christ:

1.) Pitchforks and Torches.

2.) News, Military, and Government attention, which would no doubt mean you’d have to break him out of some lab.

3.) Pitchforks and Torches, News, Military, and Government attention, which would mean you’d have to save him from an angry mob before inevitably losing him once News stations picked the story up, causing subsequent Military and Government interference and the scientific study of your undead friend in some high tech/high defense lab, leaving you to figure out how to break into and get him out of it.

Or, he could just not leave your bedroom. A beautiful alternative.

The Zombie didn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling forward—and banging his foot against the leg of your bed frame—to take a better look at your things. He was grunting and groaning, though this time it seemed to be a little different. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe to you.

Zombies in film seemed to be able to voice their demands for brains. Could he? Did he have the same urge or need to eat brains? How would you even feed a zombie?

“Can you talk?” You asked, leaning back against the door, eyes on him as he had to hop in place in order to turn his body to face you, “Like, speak? With words?”

He seemed to consider your question for a moment, eyes darting to the side.

“Uuuuuuunnnggghhh.”

“So, that’s a no. Do you…do you need brains? Because I’m not sure I can get you any of those—and if you think for one second that you’re gonna eat mine, you should know I fall under fight when it comes to fight or flight responses. I’m like an alley cat, I’ll fuck you up.”

The Zombie stumbled back, rocking from side to side. It took you a moment to realize he was trying to shake his head, no.

Interesting.

“No brains?”

Again, he rocked from side to side, “Uunggh-uunghh.”

“Oh. Okay.” Your defenses dropped immediately as you played with your hair, pulling gently at a section of it, “Well, what do you eat?”

He did the choppy shoulder raise he’d done in the livingroom earlier, “Unnhh unnhh.”

Your lips curled into a small, fascinated smile. Okay, you knew he had been once alive, once a human being existing on this earth with blood pulsing through his veins—and now he was dead.

Yet, he wasn’t dead. He was dead but standing in your bedroom, amongst your girly things and not so girly things, staring at you in his grotesque form, and shrugging I dunno, like some alive person. A full blown, supernatural one-time (to your knowledge) occurrence only depicted in Sci-fi films and horrors.

Why you? What did he want with you?

You hadn’t realized you’d voiced the question until he hobbled back around to your bedroom wall, raising his left hand, and the only one he seemed to have, up to one of the tombstone etchings. His fingers were all sorts of fucked up, frozen in the most uncomfortable looking positions as a result of rigor mortis in whatever position he’d died.

“What? That? It’s just an etching I made of a tombstone.”

He craned his head around, and you tried not to be freaked out with the way his neck hadn’t turned enough with it, tapping his crooked pinky finger against the craft paper and then moved it to his chest.

Your eyes zeroed in on the etching, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell you.

It was MUN’s tombstone—no, Eddie Munson’s tombstone.

Your jaw dropped. Had to be somewhere around your feet, on the floor. Holy. Shit.

“That’s you? You’re Eddie Munson?” It was rude, but you openly pointed at him.

He didn’t grunt in response this time, rather, he began to cough and gag as he jerked his body around to get his hand in his dirty jeans.

While he did whatever it was, you took the time to take him in even further. He wore black jeans, but under his leather jacket he seemed to be wearing a discolored dress shirt that had once probably been white. You had a feeling the sneakers on his feet, while horrendously dirty, weren’t all that worn out. Dress pants were pricey, you knew that much after buying some for your father when your mother would take you to outlets and malls with her. Dress shirts were a little cheaper and new shoes were seen as a staple in big events for peoples’ lives, such as graduations, birthdays, dances, weddings and funerals.

You had a sneaking suspicion this lively carcass hadn’t been from this part of town when he was alive.

“UUUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH!” The Zombie moaned out, almost victoriously as his stiff arm stuck straight up in the air. Dangling from his curled fingers, was your mother’s pearl necklace. You’d seen it last when you’d entrusted MUN with it yesterday.

You gasped, reaching out as he lowered it into your furled palm.

With the proof in your hand and his corpse before you, you knew you were speaking to Eddie Munson. He was, without a doubt, the grave you’d been running to.

“Holy crap, you are Eddie Munson!” You gripped the pearls in your fist, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to try to make sense of it all, “You were murdered and now you’re not—I mean, you were, but you’re back from the dead, standing in my—ooh, standing pretty close actually.”

You tried not to flinch as you became aware of just how close he’d stumbled over to you. Definitely within arms-length. He didn’t exactly stink, his flesh looked much too leathery to actually smell (you weren’t about to lean in and sniff to test the theory), but the scent of wet dirt was strong and the smell of whatever he’d spat on you earlier seemed to be lingering.

Zombie Eddie was in desperate need of a shower.

“So, this is all pretty cool and bizarre—I’m a fan of both—but uhm, why are you here…? Like, in my house.”

He slouched even further into your space, this time you did flinch a little as the most muffled whimper sounded from him. Reminded you of the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz when he couldn’t speak properly because he was all rusted up.

Eddie held eye contact as he struggled to grab hold of your hand and the minute he did, dirt from his skin pressing into yours, you knew what was coming.

Because of course it would. This is something that would only happen to you.

Shakily, Eddie tried lifting your hand and your mouth puckered, brows furrowing before you sucked your lips into your mouth as you watched him prepare to kiss your hand with his filthy, dead, dried out lips that still had bits of that green goop he’d spat up around it.

You were a nice person—a relatively decent human being, but you weren’t that nice and you didn’t wanna have to go to the hospital on the off chance that you caught something from a corpse. Explaining that one would send you straight to the psych ward and probably end in some sort of abuse of a corpse charge, so you quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp, rubbing your fingers together to roll some of the dirt off of them.

“Okay, okay, I see, mhm—alright. You’re here because—when I said I wished I was with you, I didn’t mean like, I wanted to have your dead body…y’know, pressed up against mine. I meant like…in the grave. Next to you. Like buried there because I’d be dead. It was a moment of intense angst—I’m nineteen and my life is in the fucking gutter. I’m surrounded by terrible people in this town and I have the rest of my life to live out this way.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on or something, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to do literally anything with a corpse, other than bury it.”

The two of you stood there, just staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved out of your space and you were still kind of leaning back, away from him, so you added, “So. Just a little recap, I wanted to be dead. Did not mean I wanted to be with you. Romantically. Together. Like a couple.”

And then you felt a little guilty because that wasn’t entirely true.

“Well, not with you as a cadaver.” Because you had fantasized about the person in the grave being a source of comfort to you, “Or—or, you in general. ‘Cause…’cause I didn’t know it was you given how fucked up your shit was, and I didn’t know you when you were alive.”

God, you were messing this up. Rather than continuing your ongoing word vomit, you flashed him a tight smile.

Finally, you got a reaction out of him. He creaked back, those little whimpering sounds coming from his lips before that same nasty ass green shit from before started leaking out from behind his eyeballs.

You’d made him cry.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—I just moved here a couple of months ago and you were already dead by then! I’m sure you were a lovely person and I would have liked y—y—yo—ECH!”

You gagged, hand flying up to cover your mouth and nose as you felt the contents of your stomach start to make its way back up. While your hand was in that position, it squeezed the tip of your nose, cutting of the assault currently taking place against it.

Whatever it was Zombie Eddie was secreting instead of his tears, stunk. It was the most putrid scent you’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Nothing could compare to it, not literal shit, not vomit, not pasta that had been left out to cook in the sun for several weeks, nothing.

You were sure one more sniff of it, and your nostril hairs would either shrink and curl up, or disintegrate.

“MOTHER OF GOD—your tears smell horrendous—I’m gonna throw u—ECH!”

You gagged again, tears flooding your sight and you hurried over to the bathroom, gesturing for him to follow behind you.

Chrissy had left her door to the bathroom open, so you skidded across the tile to shove it closed, desperate to make sure the scent didn’t reach the room and wouldn’t linger in there.

She’d drive you straight to the ER to get checked out, because nothing you could possibly shit out should ever and would ever smell that bad.

You yanked the shower curtain back from the tub, setting Chrissy’s products to the side and out of the way, “You need to bathe like two years ago, my dead guy.”

You stepped to the side, pointing into the tub with a finger as your other hand rested on your hip like you were ordering a misbehaving child in.

Eddie groaned, and you got the feeling that he was unimpressed with your theatrics. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t been dramatic about it. His stank tears had to be an actual biohazard and you didn’t want to think about the fact that very same biohazard had been projectile vomited onto your face a couple of minutes ago. You were so gonna scrub it raw.

Begrudgingly, he hobbled over to your tub and struggled over the edge until he was in—his upper half slamming into the tile wall.

You didn’t say anything about him being fully clothed, shoes and all, because everything he wore needed a good rinse off. If not, you’d have to hose his clothes down in the yard before subjecting the dryer and washer to them.

“There’s my soap.” You pointed out the pink bottle of pomegranate and berry scented shower gel, “And my shampoo and conditioner—those two are very expensive and a little goes a long way, so don’t waste any.”

You eyed him for a moment, mouth twisting in consideration, “Nevermind, it’ll take half the bottles to get your hair clean, I’ll just have to replace them a little earlier than my budget expected.”

This time, Eddie’s mouth parted rather wide as he moaned out, “UHNNNGGHH.”

He was probably telling you to fuck off already, but you were distracted by whatever insect was currently in his mouth, on his tongue.

“SPIT IT OUT!” You shrieked, and he aimed his head down, the large thing with too many legs falling right out to crawl around on your bathroom floor.

You screamed as you began to stomp around, trying to crush it beneath your remaining slipper but it kept evading it! Finally, your foot flattened it with a satisfying crunch.

The evil had been defeated. You were nearly panting, shoulders rising and falling as you calmed your breathing and another sound registered.

Eddie was croaking now, it sounded almost like the most painful gasps someone would let out on their deathbed. You stared, puzzled for a moment before it dawned on you.

“Are you laughing at me?”

He did it again, stiff body leaning completely back on the shower tiles now.

“Oh my god, you are! YOU DICK!” You slapped the side of his arm and then quickly yanked it back, frowning at the mud now caked to the back of your fingers.

“Ugh,” you tried to shake some of it off over the tub, your head shaking as well—and despite the predicament, you found the corners of your lips twitching but you refused to smile. Wouldn’t let him get that over you, “You’re gross. That better be the last living creature to come out of you, you Zombie Headbanger, take a shower.”

You didn’t give him a chance to moan, groan or croak at you again, yanking the curtains back to shield the tub and it’s undead occupant.

You rolled your eyes, almost fondly, and gathered too much toilet paper to wipe up the remnants of the bug and toss it in the trash. Should’ve been in a different corpse’s mouth if it wanted to live.

“You know how to work a shower, don’t you?” You asked aloud as you approached your bathroom counter, taking notice of the bathroom mirror as you uncapped a room spray and gave your bathroom a good burst of it. The mirror had already been replaced, looked like Laura couldn’t stand to know there was something imperfect in the house—aside from you.

You heard the tub start to run before the shower stream took over. At least he still remembered that much.

“You wanna listen to some music?” You asked over the loud stream of the shower.

“Uunngh.”

You took that as a yes and leaned over the counter to tweak the knob of the radio you and Chrissy always left on it. Immediately, a country station started playing and you quickly switched the station.

“That’s not one of mine! Chrissy listens to Country whenever she misses her ex-boyfriend, I don’t know why.”

You kept twisting the dial through various stations. When you hit a station midway through Disposable Heroes, you turned the knob again only for your companion to voice his outrage.

“UUUUUUNNNGGHHHH!!!”

“What?” You switched the station back, “You like Metallica?”

He grunted from behind the shower curtain, and the scent of your body wash began to fill the bathroom, much to your relief. You could hear him banging around in there, probably not the easiest to wash up with a bad case of rigor mortis.

“They’re alright, I liked Ride the Lightning, but Master of Puppets is good, too. Their last album was good, too, but it felt kind of different. Not the same without Burton.”

Eddie made a sound of confusion, hand with the fucked up fingers reaching out to push the curtain back so he could poke his head out.

You met his gaze through the mirror, “You don’t know?”

He just blinked, almost owlishly.

Shit. He must have died before the fall of ‘86. You’d have to ask Chrissy when exactly Eddie had died.

“The bass player, Cliff Burton? He died in ‘86. Bus accident.”

You watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped, and the groan he let out sounded remarkably sad as he ducked back behind the curtain.

Unsure of what to say to make him feel better, you let the radio play out the rest of the duration of Eddie’s shower and took diligent care in washing your face and brushing your teeth. Once he was done, smelling amazing and just like you, you’d had him shed his clothes for one of your nightgowns and dragged him back to your closet.

You knew he was quite literally stiff, but he seemed extra unenthused with his choice of ensemble, so you were going to let him choose his own.

“Alright, take your pick.” You yanked the doors of your walk-in closet (as in you could take three steps in and that's it) open and he flinched back at the amount of pink seeping out of it. When he made no move to look through his options, you selected one for him.

An even gaudier nightgown you tried to shove in his arms. And he let you, before purposely dropping it to the ground while holding eye contact.

“Well, I thought you would have looked great in it.” You mumbled as he creaked down to pick it up for you. When Eddie hobbled into the closet to hang it up, you shut the doors behind him, “Pick something else and then you can come out!”

Your closet doors didn’t lock though, so you were just banking on him assuming they did and you heard his offended zombie groaning. While you waited, listening to him no doubt bang into the walls as he struggled to dress himself, grunting and groaning, you twirled around on your desk chair.

Eventually, the closet doors parted and you gasped at the sight of him, standing there in your lavender fluffy, oversized sweater and pair of white pajama pants with hearts all over them. He couldn’t really move his face all that much, not very expressive and yet you could somehow tell he was scowling.

“You look like Grimace.” Was all you said, mind conjuring up Ronald McDonald’s purple monster friend.

The closet doors were promptly slammed shut. When he emerged once more, gone was the former ensemble. Eddie was wearing a neon green skirt, a tight off the shoulder black top, and nothing else.

You wolf whistled at his skinny, severely discolored legs.

He stuck one out, modeling it for you and you realized he was humoring you. You laughed, eyes crinkling.

“You tryna knock me dead, too?”

When he nodded, you laughed again and stood up to rummage through your dresser. You found a band tee you used as a pajama top, and some black pants that looked like they might fit him. Then you spotted a red plaid flannel you had hanging on your bedroom door, waiting to be placed in the closet.

The clothing items were shoved into his arms and you pushed him back into the closet.

When he came out (eheheheh) again, you were practically bouncing in your seat. You’d never seen Eddie alive before, had never seen him in clothes that weren’t his burial ones, and he definitely still looked as much of a Zombie as Michael Jackson had looked in the Thriller music video, but he also looked like a young adult, and very much so in his Metal element. He was stretching your baby blue socks to their limit, but they’d have to do until you could steal some from your dad. You’d scrub his shoes tomorrow, before class.

If Eddie were alive, he’d look…hot.

You smiled to yourself, still taking him in as you realized you were looking at Eddie Munson.

To show your admiration, you clapped for him, “That’ll do real well. What do you think?”

Eddie raised his forearm and you tilted your head, confused. He followed your gaze and groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized that was the arm lacking a hand. Then, he held up his other arm, painful looking thumb finger cracking and popping until he was giving you a thumbs up. You ended up tying a scarf around the wrist without a hand, just to hide the gaping wound.

With the matter of his clothing solved, you moved onto his hair, sitting on the bathroom counter while he stood in front of you as you worked on detangling with a spray bottle and a legion of hair products. It took some TLC, and ignoring the hole where his ear should’ve been, but you brought his curls back to life. You were shocked to even see he had bangs, they’d been plastered to the top of his head when he was the Swamp Thing.

They framed his eyes, looked real good on him and he seemed to enjoy the entire process, eyes slipping shut and little moans (not like that) coming from him.

“Well, I think we’ve got you back in good shape.” You put down the comb, placing your hand on his shoulders to turn him towards the mirror, “Is this Eddie Munson?”

You watched his gaze scan his reflection, before those eyes were on yours in the mirror.

“Unnnghhh.” Eddie held up his arm with the missing appendage and you nervously scratched the back of your heard.

“Well, you see, I don’t really have any extra hands on me, at the moment. Just down to these two,” You emphasized the sentence with some jazz hands to display yours, then immediately felt guilty over still having yours so you hid them behind your back.

Eddie groaned low, lifting his wrist to the side of his head, where his ear should have been and you made a displeased sound.

“Oh. Noticed that, did you?”

His eyes narrowed and even though you had no idea what Eddie had sounded like, you could still hear him in your head, Notice my fucking ear is missing? Yeah, I did.

“I don’t have any extras of those, either. If it’s a body part, I’m out of stock. But—who cares? Plenty of people live without them.”

Eddie grunted, eyes narrowing even further at you.

You winced, “Poor choice of words—the point is, no one will even notice. Because no one is going to see you.”

Eddie’s next grunt sounded disappointed and you felt even guiltier. What were you supposed to do? You’d already made him look as relatively normal as you could, there was only so many ways you could disguise a zombie who walked oddly, communicated via moan, groan and grunt, and looked like he had a medical skin condition.

You were about to try to comfort him when you heard the front door open and you gasped.

“WHAT IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?” You heard Laura cry out, and your dad shouted your name.

“I don’t mean to sound homophobic, but back in the closet!” You shoved him out of the bathroom and in the direction of his new hiding place. He hadn’t looked very keen as you shut the closet doors on him, but he’d have to wait for now.

Your dad was probably having one hell of a heart attack, staring at the mess of the house, the broken window, fearful a similar situation as your mother’s assault had taken place with you as the victim.

“I’m alright, daddy!” You reassured as you raced down the stairs to your concerned father. He was concerned alright, but not about you.

He had Laura in one arm, who was openly distraught about the shards of her damn plates, and Chrissy, who was staring at the mess with open confusion, in the other.

“You,” Laura spat at you with venom the moment her chilling gaze locked onto your approaching figure, “What. Did. You. Do?”

Wow. You’d seen an actual Zombie—he was upstairs, in your bedroom closet—and still the most unbelievable thing to happen to you was your ‘family’’s ability to immediately blame you. You hadn’t expected Eddie’s corpse to be the first suspect in their head, still, they’d seen your house ransacked—as you tried to escape your friendly deceased headbanger—with you nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been at all concerned for your wellbeing. God, they sucked.

“Me?! I didn’t do this!”

“Then who did!?” Laura screeched back and you found yourself getting angry.

“The guy who broke in!” You shouted back and Laura immediately rolled her eyes. You could hear your dad say both of your names to calm you down, but you were growing tired of him, too. Like Eddie, he seemed to be missing parts of his body. Noticeably, his goddamn spine.

“Really? You expect us to believe that after last night? The smashing of the mirror, my precious moments figurines? Muffin, your daughter is out of control. She destroyed my house!”

“Do you ever use those creepy eyeballs stuck in your skull?” You found yourself blurting out, “Does it look like any part of my body came crashing through that window?!” You pointed aggressively in the direction of the livingroom, where glass littered the floor. It was too much for just an object to have been thrown through and your body had no cuts, nothing to show from possibly jumping through it.

“Mom, if sissy was attacked─” Chrissy tried, her her mother was having none of it.

“Attacked? Who would want to attack her? She’s invisible, taking up space!” Laura was practically hysterical as she gathered pieces of her broken dishes, “That’s why she’s acting out, can’t you see? She’s recreating the crime scene that got her so much attention and you’re all falling for it!”

The woman was crying, mascara smearing around her eyes as her angry glare was once more directed to you, and you found yourself shrinking and hurt at the accusations, “You need serious help. You’re crazy and a danger to us all!”

“I think you might be mistaking me for your psyche.” You mumbled before turning your attention to your father with pleading eyes, “Daddy, there was a home invasion! I tried to call the police, but as soon as I heard him, I ran up to hide in my room.”

“She needs help, institutional treatment.” Laura hissed into your father’s ear as as though she was the devil on his shoulder.

“Daddy…”

“Mom, sissy’s not a nut, we can’t send her to the looney bin!”

You wanted to scream. All this talk about you being insane, and there was a literal walking corpse upstairs who could disprove that. You just weren’t willing to sacrifice Eddie for yourself.

“Dad, I’m not crazy. Okay? Last night was just a mirror, and tonight someone broke in. There’s a huge difference between the two, I’m not crazy.” You tried to reason, desperate to not get shipped off to some mental ward.

Your dad appeared sympathetic, “No one is calling you crazy, sweetheart.”

”I did.” Laura guffawed at your father siding with you.

“She did, I heard her.” Chrissy confirmed, frowning at her mother.

“No, Chris. Your mother’s just upset, she’d never say something like that and mean it.” You watched with disgust as he pulled Laura into his arms. It was more than you could stomach so you stormed out of the dining room, making a retreat for your room.

You were on your own. Your father had just proved that. Laura could say anything to you, treat you like crap, starve you and he wouldn’t ever step in, just continue being his wishy washy self. If it had been him and not your mother that night, you wouldn’t be suffering like this.

You’d have a loving parent.

You quietly shut your bedroom door once you made it in, leaning your forehead against it as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. Emotions were something you tried to embrace, but crying because of your family felt…wrong. Like something you shouldn’t have to do.

Wiping your face, you realized more tears would be coming. Tonight was meant for crying. So, you slipped into bed, tears leaking steadily down your temples to seep into your hair and pillows. You were so hurt and you wanted to sob, but you were conscious of the dead guy in your closet. What if he heard you?

With a stuttering breath, you peered over at the closet to see the doors barely open and Eddie peaking out at you.

You rolled onto your side, back facing him to hide your tear stained face and weakness as you thought about how loud you and Laura had been downstairs. He’d probably heard what she said about you.

It was one thing to be treated the way you were, it felt extra pathetic to have someone bear witness to it.

The closet doors closed quietly behind you and just as you did every night, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing sleep to come so you could be done with the day and move onto the next, just solemnly trying to make it through life.

Maybe you and Eddie had more in common than you originally thought. Maybe you were a zombie, too.

When your alarm blared from your nightstand, rousing you from sleep—the only peace you ever seemed to get—you stumbled out of bed almost blindly, eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion as you yanked your closet doors open.

A garment was immediately thrown over your head, covering your face and you remembered your current house guest.

With a sigh, you yanked the clothing off your head, balled it up and threw it back at Eddie, “Dude, I have to get dressed. I have class today.”

Eddie grumbled, un-balling the little black dress and holding it up for you. It was the dress Chrissy had bought on sale and then given to you when she came to the conclusion that black washed her out and she looked much better in pastels.

“I’m not wearing that, not so much my style.” You tried to push past Eddie, but he remained planted where he stood, grunting as he held the dress out to you once more.

“Do I look like Madonna to you?” You asked, pushing the dress back towards him. Eddie groaned and threw the dress at your face again, closing the closet doors while you yanked it off your head, again.

“We’re gonna have to have a conversation about your communication skills later.” You called through the door and fiddled with the dress, “Can I get a sweater or something to go along with this?”

The closet doors were quickly opened and a new article of clothing was flung over your head before they closed. You’d just pulled the sweater off of your head when the doors opened once more and a hat was tossed at you.

“Dang—anything else?”

“Uuunggh.” Eddie moaned through the door, and you tried to pull at them but he must have been holding them shut from the otherside.

Resigned to your fate, you swapped out your pajamas for the outfit Eddie had apparently selected for you. He would navigate to the black clothing. You were unsure of it until you saw yourself in the mirror. Normally, your clothes weren't all that revealing. Form fitting—maybe, but never as attention drawing as this. You just figured you weren’t the type that could pull it off.

You were wrong.

The dress hugged your figure in the most complimentary way. It was short, stopped mid-thigh, but it didn’t look awkward or make you feel like your vagina would be on display if you bent over, thanks to the lace of the bottom hem flaring out.

For once, the girl in the mirror looked stunning. And when you did your makeup, taking your time to smoke a dark blue shadow out along your lash line and eyelids, she looked drop dead gorgeous.

You’d walked onto Campus with your head high, body rocking and a new found confidence that hadn’t quite made it’s way to the surface before. The heads turning in your direction were new and you found you kind of liked it, their gazes weren’t uninterested, scowls or looks of annoyance. They were appreciative, even from the straight girls!

“Okay, am I seeing things or does your sister look drop dead gorgeous?” Tina asked, as Chrissy and her friends stood admiring you from the bench they were occupying.

“You’ve got perfect 20/20 vision. She’d be unstoppable if she kept the confidence. Could probably even win pageants. Do you think she’d join cheer?”

Eddie fiddled with one of your shoes, tugging on a shoestring in boredom. He was sat on the floor of your closet, light from your bedroom windows creeping in through the cracks of the doors.

You’d lectured him before you left for class, told him he had to stay put. Laura wouldn’t be leaving for her nurses’ conference until the afternoon, so she’d be lingering in the house and she’d have a cow if she stumbled upon him.

So you’d pointed and lectured until he was creaking and groaning his compliance.

He’d stayed in the closet while you got dressed and, after you’d made sure Chrissy had already left, watched you do your makeup in the mirror while you chatted about the classes you had to take for the day.

Eddie had listened, to the best of his ability with one ear, and stared at your reflection as the heavy sense of longing settled on his chest, crushing the heart that no longer beat but desperately wished to. For you.

Death was not like he’d ever expected. No heaven, no hell. He was just…dead. Maybe it’d been the way he died. Perhaps, the suddenness of it, his lack of peace in life while living, or the fact that he was murdered, was the reason he saw neither heaven nor hell. He’d just been in a dark place. Literally, no source of light, no out of body experience, just darkness. For a while, it was tolerable, he’d heard Wayne’s voice comforting him. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Then, nothing.

Nothing for so long. Quiet. Silence, not at all a peaceful kind. He no longer existed in life and yet the silence was still somehow smothering.

Until one day, he wasn’t alone anymore.

You found him.

Talked to him all the time, laid with him, kept him company and said such wonderful things. Eddie had no idea how much he’d appreciate hearing about current news events as a dead guy.

And while you kept him from feeling lonely, there was always a sadness to your presence. Broke his heart when you told him out of place you felt because he just wanted to claw his way out of his grave and tell you that no, you weren’t odd, you weren’t weird, you weren’t out of place. You were unique. You were the type of person he would have admired if he had been alive, different but not desperate to fit in. Just longed to be accepted.

He understood the sentiment all too well.

Eddie understood you. And you had no idea who he was, had voiced as much to him, couldn’t come up with his identity because some fuckers had defaced his tombstone—of course they would—and yet, you knew exactly who Eddie was. Knew him to his very core.

When you visited him, Eddie felt warm. He had no idea he could even feel things, other than the constant loneliness that had plagued him after Wayne’s presence disappeared, and before you.

With you, it felt like you were right there with him, beside him. A warmth, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for some much needed comforting. How ironic that he finally found someone who could finally see him, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was dead.

And when you had come to Eddie that fateful night, the sadness he always noticed about you was heavier. A new despair attached, one that had him desperate to get to you, comfort you as you’d done for him.

I wish I was with you.

You’d said it. Had said what Eddie had wanted to hear you say for so long, even before he was dead. Before he knew you. It had always been you he was waiting for. He was beginning to understand the universe was bigger than anything he could have imagined (and yeah, maybe universal studios was the first thing that came to mind when he was alive), was positive the heartache he went through was necessary if it led him to you. Eddie could have done without the murder—there was no undoing that. Except, there kind of was. And it happened with a strike of lightning.

Unlike the many times he wanted to before, he’d actually been able to open his eyes, break out of his coffin and dig his way out of his own grave.

Eddie had had a major breakdown, freaking out at just about everything regarding returning from the dead after he’d broken through that final layer of thick terrain, minutely softened by some light rain from the storm. He had first tried to go home, only to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar mobile home set up on Wayne’s lot. A peek into the window revealed a couple.

No sign of his uncle.

It filled him with a sense of panic and he’d needed something—someone to stabilize him, keep him grounded.

Eddie was sure he was tied to you. Not only because of the unique bond you shared, he also felt a pull to you. Just some intense instinct.

He knew where to go after.

Your welcome hadn’t exactly been as warm as the grave hangouts—he didn’t blame you, his vocal chords were useless to him for the time being, meaning he couldn’t explain himself as you shrieked and flung dishes at him (and he was impressed) and fled from him. He could make sounds, so Eddie suspected he had the ability to talk, just lacked the healthy cords due to years of non-use to them, what with him being dead and all.

Eddie’s case was definitely not helped when he’d broken your fall—he was freaking the fuck out about you dangling from the roof like that—and you’d pressed on him stomache when you landed on him.

He hadn’t meant to…y’know…spit all that up on you, it just happened and he immediately wanted to die right after, just roll right back into his grave, he was so fucking embarrassed.

Projectile vomited on the girl you’re tryna romance, Munson. Nice.

Then, you hadn’t been attacking him, tugging him along to your room instead where you immediately told him you were just using dark humor to cope and didn’t actually want to be with him.

Probably something you should have clarified for him before he returned from the dead to be with you, but whatever. He wasn’t mad about it. Just a little bit heartbroken. Definitely didn’t stink up your closet with a little cry sesh while you were at college. Totally didn’t smell like Cherry Bubbles (how is that a scent?) from the bathroom spray he’d had to limp out to grab in an effort to hide the scent of his rotting body tears.

Now, he was just confused. Had no idea what the hell to do. Thinking on it, it had obviously been stupid as fuck to think you’d want him when he was literally a dead body. Couldn’t exactly stroll down the street, holding his one hand without garnering a few odd looks and arrests.

So, what could he do now? Sit in the closet and think about everything. Try to remember everything about his last moments alive—and when it had him wheezing in the closet, cowering in the dark, he’d switched to thinking about his uncle. Concerned. Wondering what had happened to him. When that subject, too, began to promise a panic attack—he switched to thinking about you, and oh how he ached in a different way. You were right there, in reach for him and yet the two of you couldn’t be.

The most frustrating part is how good the two of you could be for each other, and Eddie literally couldn’t talk you into giving it a chance, couldn’t even flirt with you.

He had some mad rizz when given the opportunity, a body that wasn’t stiff as hell and a fucking voice. Eddie knew he’d be able to get you all shy and cute, similar to how you were when you talked about what you thought he was like back at the cemetery.

FUCK. What the hell? Life wasn’t fair to him, death wasn’t fair to him, now life as some zombie wasn’t gonna be fair to him?

What kind of fucked up existance was this?!

All because of some stupid fucking lightning that—

Lightning. Eddie perked up, theories racing through him. If it had brought him back from the dead, maybe it could do more. Before he could think on it further, he heard your door open and froze.

It was too soon for you to be home. You said you’d be back in the afternoon, after Laura had left.

Eddie heard a scoff.

“How has it gotten even worse in here?” Laura mumbled to herself.

Eddie scowled, as he heard her footsteps enter your room, could hear her padding around.

The fuck was she doing in here?

It was a risk, Eddie pushed the closet door open, just enough to give him a crack to peep through.

Your stepmom was in some sort of jazzercise outfit—ugh, of course she did jazzercise. The blonde woman was currently rummaging through your drawers, looking amongst your belongings.

She was invading your privacy.

If Eddie had blood flowing through his veins, it would have been boiling.

He’d heard what she said last night, how she berated you. Accusing you of using your mother’s murder to seek attention.

And the other members of your family weren’t speaking up nearly enough to defend you. He was surprised that Chrissy—small town for Cunningham to be the Chrissy you’d been telling him about—even tried to defend you but she should have been putting her mother in her place. She hadn’t come up to check on you, either.

Eddie had a few things he wished he could say to Laura Cunningham, tell her exactly where she could shove her stupid figurines and verbal abuse.

If she was searching for something, Laura didn’t find it. She slammed one of your drawers shut, eyed your sketches pinned to your wall with disgust before speed walking out of your room. When she passed the closet, Eddie took notice of the headphones over her ears, could hear whatever she was listening to, Walkman probably set to the loudest volume.

Eddie’s mouth chipped up into a smirk that kind of hurt his face. He opened the closet door fully, stumbling out to poked his head out of your bedroom doorway just in time to see your stepmom disappear down the stairs.

Eddie followed, steps loud and uneven. Laura didn’t notice his presence, too engrossed in whatever she was listening to and occupied with her own ego. Looked to be cleaning up the place before her little trip.

Laura disappeared into the kitchen, well out of view of the living room so Eddie stumbled in, eyeing the pristine setting. The place looked impeccable, spotless, antiques everywhere that Eddie just knew the old bat was dying to have people ask about so she could name drop and be as haughty as possible.

Eddie could wreck all of this in no time, and he would if he didn’t know she’d immediately blame you for it. He still felt guilty you’d been chewed out for the mess he made.

Bitch.

Eddie heard her returning, so he hid behind the wall, waiting a few moments before he peered around it and across the foyer, into the dinning room where she was seated after having fixed herself something. Laura still had the headphones on, so Eddie took that as the all clear to continue exploring.

He spotted a family portrait hung over the fireplace, a seemingly picture perfect family was displayed. A man he assumed to be your father loomed over Laura and Chrissy, one hand on each of their shoulders. Eddie barely glanced at them before you pulled all of his attention. You were stunning, light catching the highlights of your face, lips parted just enough to encourage a pout. Your hair was wild in comparison to the other women in the portrait—Eddie loved it. You looked like you belonged on an album cover for some rock band, even with the sorrow swirling around in your eyes. Your unwavering melancholic stare pinned Eddie, and he could feel himself getting protective over you again. You must have been miserable that day.

See, if he had been around, he could have easily cheered you up. Snuck over on the day in question. Laura would have hated his fucking guts—Eddie wouldn’t have minded being the boyfriend your stepmom didn’t approve of. Horsing around behind the little photo shoot set up to get you smiling, get those pretty eyes of yours twinkling before whisking you the hell out of there once they got the money shot.

He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he turned away from the past that never was. Couldn’t have (he’d already been dead), should have (but couldn’t) and would have. In a heartbeat.

His posture worsened under the weight of his own despair, sulking with it until he spotted an acoustic guitar, tucked in the corner and resting on a stand.

“Mm?” Eddie tilted his head in curiosity before making his way over. It was difficult to do, but he managed to settle the neck of it in the crook of the arm lacking a hand, and strummed with his stiff fingers, pleased to find that it was already tuned.

He plucked a couple more chords, stopping once to adjust a peg. Then the doorbell rang and Eddie’s eyes widened. He fumbled to place the guitar back on its stand and plaster himself against the wall as Laura got up to answer it, having apparently been able to hear it ring but not his guitar playing.

“Yes?” Laura asked as she opened the door, impatience soaking through her tone.

“Carpet cleaning.” A man’s voice stated, sounding bored beyond measure.

“Carpet Cleaning? My carpet is so clean you can lick the fibers.” God, was your stepmom ever not insufferable? The carpet cleaner salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing and Eddie figured he had to be annoyed with his work day already to say what he did next.

“I doubt the one downstairs is.” The salesman snorted and Eddie would have snickered if he could as he heard Laura let out an affronted and embarrassed gasp.

“EXCUSE ME?!”

The guy must have turned tail because Laura was stepping out after him, yelling as she closed the front door behind her.

Eddie eyed the bowl she’d been eating from, curiosity getting the better of him as he stumbled over to inspect it. Spaghetti.

He shouldn’t….But what was the point of being a dead corpse if he couldn’t use dead guy powers for good?

It only took a little effort, Eddie successfully gagged and heaved until a warm that had been lurking in his stomach came out, dropping out of his mouth to wiggle around in Laura’s lunch. Eddie watched as it disappeared between the noodles and sauce, satisfaction filling him.

Served the hag right.

With justice served, Eddie made his way back upstairs to your room. He’d just made it to your doorway when he heard Laura return. He waited a few more moments for her to sit down, settle herself, twirl some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth.

Eddie was beginning to think the worm had made its way to the very bottom of the bowl when Laura let out a high pitched scream.

That one was for you.

Eddie smirked and walked back into your room, quietly closing the door behind him.

You had two classes for the day, back to back so as to not have to stay on campus longer than necessary, and both classes were pleasant. There hadn’t been any change in the materials covered or anything, eyes just kept attempting to discreetly take you in, which you caught from your peripheral vision.

While you enjoyed the new attention your attire and the way you carried yourself brought you, you quickly realized it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to feel good about yourself and for once in your life, you did.

You were absolutely giddy, and you felt so badass somehow, was this what Chrissy and her friends felt like all the time? Maybe putting effort into your appearance wasn’t just a load of crap dispelled onto ugly people by the conventionally attractive.

Regardless, you were strutting your way to the library, eager to turn in some books, make Steve Harrington’s jaw drop, then run back home to Eddie so you could thank him profusely for not having fugly taste.

Once you made it to the library, you noticed no one was at the front desk. Steve must have been putting some books back on their shelves.

No problem, more time to prepare yourself, maybe run through some possible conversations so you wouldn’t go stupid at the sight of his gorgeous face.

Your bag hit the ground with a thud, thanks to the weight of the hardcovers within it and you bent down at the waist to rummage through it, placing one heavy hardcover book, two heavy hardcover books, three heavy hardco—

“You got the rest of the library in there, Mary Poppins?”

You snapped back up, whipping around just in time to see Steve’s gaze rise from where your ass had been unknowingly on display, to meet your eyes, his honey brown ones swirling with warmth.

Oh, god. Just play it cool.

“Just some tampons and some chips.”

Leave. Walk out. Save face.

“No chocolate for that time of the month?” He asked, leaning up against the desk, rather than going around it to handle your returns. Steve wanted to talk to you. He’d been eyeing your ass and now he was making small talk.

You were going for it.

“Craving a different kind of sweet thing right now.” You leaned in, just as he had at the tailor’s yesterday. You were laying it on thick, sure. It worked though. Steve leaned in, too, and you clocked the tick of his eyebrow. Interest. Holy shit—things were finally looking up for you.

“I’ve got some starbursts in my car,” Chrissy chirped, materializing out of thin air to stand in front of you and Steve.

You almost knocked down the books you’d stacked on the desk, cursing under your breath. “Geez, Chrissy.”

“Hi.” She grinned at you, her darling crooked teeth gleaming before she was fixing Steve with a stern look, “Sorry, I need to talk to my sister. Preferably, alone.”

“I’m not exactly gonna run to the gossip columns about anything.” He mused, exchanging an amused look with you but you couldn’t really hear anything going on around you because Steve Harrington was flashing you smiles around Chrissy, your pretty and practically perfect step-sister, and not her. You’d entered another dimension and you did not want to leave. All you could do was smile back at him, like some infatuated idiot while your fingers reached up to pick at your lower lip.

“That may be so, but I think it’s best if she hangs around a good crowd.” Somehow, Chrissy had wedged herself between you and Steve, standing protectively in front of you with her arms crossed. She was about as intimidating as a pomeranian. Still, it was endearing to have someone act like they cared about you.

“And the library is just full of Neanderthals, is that what you’re implying?” Steve leaned both elbows back on the desk, gesturing out to the few students—most meek in appearance—occupying the area.

“I was thinking more of creepy librarians, high school peakers, and former playboys.” Chrissy shot back and you nudged her, hissing out her name. The protective thing was nice, just not when she was trying to scare away the man you’d be making your boyfriend.

“Golden coming from you, of all people, your royal highness, the Queen of Hawkins High; former head cheerleader and Miss Hawkins of ‘87, but not ‘88 and I’m pretty sure Heather Holloway won again this year, so looks like we both don’t have a lot going on, do we?” Steve was smug, shooting you a wink that made your heart melt and drip down your sternum.

Steam was practically blowing out of Chrissy’s ears, “Shoo fly, don’t bother us.”

Steve rolled his eyes before they fixed on you, past Chrissy’s head, “I’ll see you later okay? Thanks for bringing your books back on time.”

You giggled, still staring at him as Chrissy began to tug you away, “Until the next time, I guess?”

Steve held your stare, smirk softening into a smile, “I’ll be waiting.”

It was easy for Chrissy to guide you out after that. You were floating. Light as a feather and high on life.

“You are the only girl I know who can survive a spiked drink and still want to have anything to do with the guy.” Chrissy sighed in exasperation as the two of you loitered by the drinking fountain, “There’s like at least four other guys here who would date you, sissy! Don’t waste your time on that one.”

Okay. Only four other guys? Ouch. “Steve didn’t spike it. Carol did.”

“And she’s always following him around like some sad little mutt. Better to just stay away.”

You scowled, mood souring. One afternoon. You couldn’t have just one afternoon where you felt good about yourself without someone bringing you down. You knew Chrissy meant well, but in that moment, she was pissing you off.

She seemed to pick up on the shift of your attitude, changing the subject, “After practice, I’m gonna go out tonight. Some of the girls want to go bowling and then have a little kick back. Cover for me?”

How very much like Chrissy to insult you in the name of protectiveness, and then ask you for a favor. She still cared more about you than your own flesh and blood, so, “I thought your mom was gonna be away for a few days in Akron.”

“She is, but daddy’s not. And he’s way too overprotective, I can’t even sneeze without him bursting into my room to ask me what’s wrong. He always wants to know where I’m going, argues with me when I try to go out late—it’s so annoying.”

All you could think about were the many times you’d said goodbye to him as you left the house at whatever hour you wanted while he mumbled a bye and read whatever magazine he was reading or watched TV.

You tried to consider it a good thing that he let you be so independent, yet something in you ached, sure he simply didn't care enough for you. Not like he did Chrissy, and he’d known you longer, all your life.

“Oh. Uhm, I think he works late today, anyway. I’ll cover if he asks, but I’m sure you’re good.”

Chrissy perked up, pulling you into a tight hug, “You are the best! I knew I was gonna love having you as a sister. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Chrissy didn’t wait for your reply, practically bouncing down the hallway and you sighed.

At least you’d have some peace and quiet, maybe you could get Eddie into better shape too, and you’d get to tell him about your day!

With your classes done, you made your way to the parking lot, where Mystery waited for you.

You slid the back door of the Volkswagen open, tossing your bag in before sliding the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat of the bus. Then you started your mantras and manifestations, gripping the key with a sweaty palm before you were sticking it into the ignition and turning it with bated breath.

She roared to life and you sagged back in your seat, bones like jelly knowing you piece of crap bus was still kicking.

It was the biggest lemon of a car you’d ever seen, carried around jugs of coolant in the back because it had to be refilled almost every time you started it.

But it was yours.

When you pulled up to the house to see Laura’s car was gone, you felt yet another weight lifted off your shoulders. You were completely free to be you. Snatching your bag from the back, you made a run for your house, quickly unlocking the door before stampeding up the stairs.

You burst into your bedroom, chest heaving to find it in normal condition and no Eddie around. Frowning, you tossed your bag on the floor, beside your bed, and made your way over to the closet, yanking the doors open.

Eddie peered up at you from his position on the floor, rocking an old feather boa of yours.

“Eddie, I told you you were free to roam once Laura left. You don’t have to stay cramped in there all day when no one is around.” You offered him a hand and helped hoist him when you took it, “You wouldn’t believe the day I had—you’ve got stellar taste, by the way.”

“Uuungh?”

You reached under your bed, snatching an old Easter basket out that you used to hide your snacks. After you settled on the bed, you patted the spot next to you, and Eddie hobbled his way over, grunting as he settled onto the cushy comforter.

“I know I was grumpy this morning. I’m sorry, you were right. The dress was a hit!” You exclaimed, ripping a bag of sour gummy worms open. The pink end was clenched between your teeth as you bit it off, bag of sweet and sour treats held out to Eddie as an offering.

Eddie reached into the bag, attempting to crook his fingers enough to hook one. You watched the leathery skin between his brows pull—if you had blinked, you would have missed it—as he struggled to free his hand from the bag, shaking it a little until you pinched the bottom firmly, allowing him to pull it out.

“Unngh.” He grunted in thanks.

As Eddie moved onto the challenge of getting the gummy worm to his mouth, you went back to telling him about your day, “I mean, god—all I did was put on a little dress and I felt kind of invincible. Not to mention Steve Harrington seemed to like it.”

Eddie froze, gummy worm hanging out of his mouth, “Mm?”

“Steve Harrington, did’ ya know him?” You asked, steamrolling right on as if you hadn’t, “Talk about winning the genetic pool—that man is so fine. We talked a little at that party I told you about, and before I did drugs, he was being so nice to me. And I didn’t look as hot as I do now, so I was hoping for a reaction out of him—BOY did I get it.”

You let out a dreamy sigh, recalling the way Steve had leaned into your straightforward flirting.

“He’s kind, funny, and sometimes he even has good book recommendations. He’s like the total package and I think he might actually like me.”

You paused your ranting to look over at Eddie. If you didn’t already know his face was stuck like that, you would have thought he was scowling.

“You got a little…” Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw, your thumb lifted the gummy worm hanging out of his mouth the rest of the way up. Eddie’s cracked lips parted, just enough for you to press the rest of it in, then he chewed slowly, face not even twitching to clue you in on his emotions.

“There.” Your hand dropped back into your lap as you perked up, “I wanna assume he’s better than the other horndogs who popped woodies just because I wore a dress and flashed some leg.”

You stuck out your leg to demonstrate, the dress slipping even further up your thigh as you held it out, smooth (mostly, she was a little prickly but no one would notice unless they were stroking it) skin on display under some fishnet stockings.

Eddie let out a pained sounding groan, which you figured meant he was agreeing with you about the rest of the male population.

“Yeah. Well, I think everything’s gonna work out perfectly. Even if Chrissy keeps butting into my love life like some fairy chastity-mother. God—I just, I’ve never been close to actually having something I wanted before, you know?”

Eddie whined from behind closed lips, holding up the wrist that lacked his hand.

“What?” You asked, glancing down at the scarf wrapped around it. Eddie reached up with his fucked up fingers to point at where his ear should have been and it clicked for you, “Eddie, I can’t pull an extra hand and ear outta my ass. I wish I could, but I don’t have spare human parts lying around like pieces of a vacuum.”

Eddie whined again and this time you could actually see his lips pulling down, frowning.

“I told you I wish I could, but I can’t! I don't know how to get people parts and I don’t exactly have the black market on speed dial. Besides—you’re fine like this, I mean what are you able to do as walking dead guy anyways?”

“MUUUUNGGGHHHH!” Eddie groaned, loud and obviously upset as he dramatically flung himself back on the bed hard enough to shake it.

“Hey!” You snapped, fearful for your bed frame, “Chill out dude—don’t act all coked out!”

He turned his head, face miserable but before you could continue your scolding, you heard your name called upstairs.

Laura.

“SHIT, hide!” Eddie stumbled up and barely even had the chance to turn around before you shoved him into your closet, shutting the doors.

You’d barely stepped away when Laura burst into your room. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, complete with the stupid hat, yet there was something off with her. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, she looked clammy, eyes and nostrils red with irritation and her mascara was running. Laura Cunningham looked just as terrible on the outside as she was inside.

And for once, she scared you.

“Laura! I thought you were headed out of town for your trip.” Laura’s stare was even colder than you’d ever seen it, unnaturally icy blue eyes both vacant and filled with a deranged sort of rage. You expected her pupils to turn into slits any second, it would be the last physical trait she’d need to resemble a demon.

Stepmother from hell, indeed.

“Mmm, I’m sure you were looking forward to that,” Her voice was soft, almost gentle and nothing about it was kind. It was as if to coax you forward to her, lull you into a sense of ease before striking. You were reminded of the anglerfish, and the glow of their fin ray. They used it to draw unsuspecting prey towards the light before they were devoured.

You took a small step back. She took one forward.

“I suppose I’ll just have to attend next year, I’ll be skipping the conference this year. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do much learning or networking with my head plastered in a toilet bowl. I seem to have come down with something. Do you know what my symptoms are?” She asked, voice so sugary sweet and thick.

“Uhm. I-I’ve been on my period. Maybe we synced?” You hated how small your voice sounded.

Laura’s lips pressed into a thin, cruel smile, “No. I haven’t been throwing up with a cramping stomach because of my period. I’ve been vomiting non-stop because a little slut under my roof is trying to kill me. And do you know who that psychotic little tramp is?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth parting in shock. Did your stepmother just call you a slut?

“ANSWER ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!” She bellowed, making you jump and gasp. You’d never heard Laura raise her voice like that, it dropped several octaves and she was staring at you with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.

All you could do was shake your head. You were terrified, but you weren’t about to play her game. You were neither a slut nor a tramp and it was clear, regardless of what you’d say or do, she’d be unleashing her wrath upon you.

Laura chuckled without humor, “You really are just a stupid, insignificant bitch, aren’t you? I open up my home to you and you do nothing but cause trouble every time I so much as turn my head. I have been nothing but kind to you, even after you wrecked my home. I’ve been an angel. But putting worms in my food?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I didn’t touch your food, I just got home from classes. An—And I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t ask to move here.” You could see tears beginning to blur your vision, welling up and threatening to cascade over your lower lashes. They didn’t. You refused to cry in front of her. Refused to give her that satisfaction.

“Oh, please.” Laura scoffed, looking at you in bewilderment, “Did you want to stay in the house where your mother was sliced and diced? Was that a comfort for you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, I didn't want to start my life over in some town full of ignorant people.” You gritted out, hand clenching the bag of gummy worms.

“Ignorant people, and yet—you still don’t fit it in. Telling isn’t it?”

Despite your fear, you felt your own rage starting to build within you and before you could stop yourself, you spat out “What do you care? You never wanted me here. You just wanted my dad here in your clutches and you knew that wouldn’t happen if we hadn’t moved. He would have never chosen you over my mom.”

Laura sneered, “It’s not much of a choice when she’s rotting in some coffin, six feet under, is it? I’m sure she’s relieved to be done with you and all the disgusting things you do for attention.”

“Shut up!” You demanded, seething now as the devil incarnate dared to speak about your mother in such a disrespectful manner. Laura was only able to sleep in a bed alongside your father—wear that tacky ring on her finger because your mother had tragically lost her life.

Laura wouldn’t be but a mosquito in the room if your mother were alive.

You hadn’t been expecting the strike that came next, hadn’t been prepared for Laura to pull her arm back and swing it forward, cracking your cheek so hard you almost spun. You yelped, hand reaching up to press against the skin of your cheek, feeling it throb and sting under your touch.

She fucking hit you. You gaped at her in disbelief and Laura didn’t look remotely apologetic.

“I am beyond tired of you and I am not going to wait until some maniac guts me to be rid of you. Especially when you’re already a threat to my life. No. I won’t stand for it, so I took it upon myself to begin your admittance to Hawkins National Psychiatric Center.

Your blood ran cold as images of the unsettling ‘center’ flooded your mind. You’d heard of it before, horror stories told amongst your peers. A psych ward. And Laura Cunningham was going to have you committed.

“No, please. No.” You whispered, voice laced with fear.

“It’s for the good of everyone,” Laura began, leering over you. “You don’t belong here. Your place is locked up, solitary confinement where no one will have to see you ever aga—

THUNK.

Laura let out the smallest of gasps.

You watched the unsettling blue of her eyes give away to whites and red veins as they rolled to the back of her head, her body going limp as she tipped forward and fell face first to the ground. Your mouth dropped open as you watched her collapse, gurgling and twitching on the ground for just a few seconds before she went still. Then your gaze flitted to Eddie, who stood tall with your old sewing machine clutched in his hand, a corner stained red.

Your eyes flashed back down to Laura, and they widened in size when the pink of your carpet began to turn a bright red, blood seeping out of her skull to pool around her head and soak into the floor.

Eddie made a grunt that sounded more so like a noise of satisfaction and tossed the sewing machine back into the closet.

You heard them before you saw them. Eddie had found the small pair of scissors included with your sewing machine and clipped them in the air before he bent down. You could only watch, stunned silent and with morbid curiosity as Eddie snipped your stepmother’s ear off.

“Oh, god…” You finally found your voice, eyes darting anywhere else to avoid seeing the skin severed. You breathing became labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as you staved off a panic attack while your undead friend cut the ear from Laura’s dead body.

Eddie held it up in triumph, like it was some sort of medal rather than a human ear.

“Wha─? Why─?” You couldn’t even finish a sentence and Eddie must have noticed how distraught you were. He rose from the floor, stepping over Laura’s body to pull you into his arms and despite what had just occurred, you returned the embrace; arm slipping under his to clutch at the back of his shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was offering. His hand rubbed circles over your back and you leaned your cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, stare never once leaving Laura’s body as you whimpered.

When he pulled back—just enough to be able to look at your face—he held the ear up, towards you.

You knew exactly what he was asking you to do.

”Eddie…I—I can’t. I can’t do that…We have to bury the body first.” You placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him again as you both turned your heads to stare at someone who was no longer a problem for you. For the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe.

Eddie had rescued you.

Moving the body was surprisingly easy. You’d expected Eddie’s limbs to be fragile for some reason, a foolish thought considering he’d so easily crashed through your window that first night. Eddie actually possessed a great deal of strength, easily lifting Laura’s body—wrapped in sheets—and carrying her downstairs.

Movement seemed to be getting easier for him, limbs that had been out of use for years returning to life and unstiffening just as he had. If his arms could support Laura’s body with no problem, you wondered what had happened to his missing hand in the first place.

You made sure the coast was clear before you pulled your bus up the driveway and Eddie placed the body in the back. It obviously hadn’t been strapped down, so while you drove to the cemetery, Laura’s body was rolling around, banging against the sides of the Volkswagen. Eddie just turned up the music you’d been playing.

The cemetery was vacant, thanks to the relatively early time of the day. Most people still hadn’t gotten off of work yet, which made this easy for you and Eddie. It wasn’t the most respectful thing to do—you were just out of options. A grave had already been dug out, for some poor recently deceased soul (not Laura, she could go to hell), so, the two of you had quite literally dumped Laura’s body into the empty hole and covered her with a layer of dirt so she’d go unnoticed when they’d lower the coffin, of whoever’s grave this was, into it.

After the deed was done, the two of you stood side-by-side, staring into it.

“Is death comforting?” You asked, breaking the silence. Eddie didn’t answer, didn’t even grunt, so you turned your head to the side to find him already staring at you.

He shook his head.

“Good. C’mon.” You gave the burial plot, now and forever housing Laura, an extremely and aggressively disrespectful finger, and tugged Eddie back to the bus. He went willingly after kicking some more dirt into it.

When the two of you returned home—after you briefly stopped for ice cream while Eddie waited in the bus—you’d gotten straight to work; Eddie’s head in your lap as you sewed the ear into place.

While you threaded the needle through the skin, Eddie waited patiently, thumb playing with your fishnets. Once you knotted the string and used your teeth to nip off the excess, you admired your work.

Good stitching, secure and it wouldn’t fall off. The coloring was a bit odd, skin appearing obviously more lively than Eddie’s dull gray-green tint. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Done.” You announced, hands resting on the mattress at your sides. Slowly, Eddie rose to a sitting position, head shifting around to face you, “What’s the survey say? Ear any good? Hear anything?”

Those big, deep brown, baby cow eyes of his looked despondent as he shook his head.

“Mm-mm.”

You sighed, feeling a bit despondent yourself. He’d saved you from a life of medicated compliance and padded walls, and you couldn’t even get the human ear you’d stitched to the side of his head to work. You felt guilty knowing you couldn’t make him whole again, as he so desperately wanted to be. Couldn’t be his blue fairy.

You reached your fingers up, tips brushing alongside the soft outer edge of his ear. How funny that an appendage that had once belonged to the nastiest person you’d ever encountered, a woman who hated your very existence, was now endearing because it was a part of the guy before you. Your friend. Your protector. What had taken place that afternoon would no doubt lead to trouble, but you knew Eddie hadn’t acted out of malice.

He’d simply wanted to help you. And—okay, yes, he got an ear out of it, but it didn’t work. What mattered is that you weren’t alone anymore. You had someone that actually cared about you. Enough to kill for you, even.

It felt…like you mattered to someone.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled in disappointment, “I really did think it was gonna work, too. Guess Laura’s still useless, even when she’s dead.”

Your hand dropped back into your lap as the two of you simultaneously heaved out sighs.

“At least you have something there, you know?” You tried to see the positive side, keep Eddie happy, “Like nipples with boob jobs. The dial doesn’t work but you can still turn the knob.”

He made a humming sound, contemplating the analogy, weighing it as his head tilted this way and that way.

“Maybe it’ll catch up with you later, like the rest of your body. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting better at moving around.” You teased, nudging your shoulder playfully against his.

Eddie stiffened and you thought you might have offended him, “I mean—I’m not paying super duper close attention or anything, I just like to watch you—It’s not like I see a living dead guy every day.”

“Unngh.” Eddie seemed to pay no attention to your word vomiting, pointing at a sharpie on your nightstand.

“What? This?” You reached over and snagged it, offering it to him. He carefully took it from your hands, his hardened fingers brushing over your soft ones, and awkwardly popped the cap off with his thumb.

Your eyebrows shot up as Eddie began doodling on the skin of your hand near your thumb and index finger.

“Why did I think you were illiterate?” You mused aloud and Eddie briefly stopped to glare at you and grunted, unamused, “You can’t blame me, you could have picked up a pen and paper this entire time, hell—I have an Etch A Sketch you could have been using instead of making me decipher your ‘uuunnngghhss’.” You did your best impression of his zombie grunting and he put the sharpie between his thighs so he could flick the cap at you.

Like an expert dodger, you lifted your hand just in time for it to bounce off your palm as you giggled and he went back to finishing up his little doodle.

A lightning bolt.

Your lips pulled into a soft smile as you admired it, something warm pooling in your belly. It was cute and there was something very attractive to you about walking around with Eddie’s little sketch on you.

An Eddie Was Here, if you will.

And then it hit you. Lightning.

“OH.”

Eddie grunted, pleased that you’d picked up on what he was trying to convey.

“But how are we gonna…” You trailed off, brows furrowing as a montage of the two of you played in your head; sticking a metal rod in the ground with Eddie holding onto it as you waited for some approaching storm to electrocute him. The only problem was the weather forecast for the week predicted nothing but sunshine and clear, starry nights. No electrocution for the week. Unless…. “Oh my god.”

You turned to Eddie, grinning almost maniacally, “I’m a genius.”

Forty minutes later, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror Chrissy had set up inside the tan shack. It was softly aglow with pink and warm hued fairy lights, and neon blue coming from the tanning bed. One of her beauty pageant crowns was placed on your head, and you had to admit, it did make you feel pretty. It looked good on you, too. Huh. Maybe you should have done pageants, could have won one, even.

Sparks flew from the tanning bed, some feet away, with Eddie inside of it.

It was the next best thing to actually being struck by lightning. Well, it was either the tanning bed or electrocuting him in the small pool with a plugged in radio, but you didn’t want to get wet.

You grabbed a little fairy wand, no doubt part of one of Chrissy’s pageant costumes—probably Galinda—and posed with it, pleased with your reflection. Your hair was frizzy and it somehow added to your allure.

You could rock with this confidence thing for a while if it made you not hate yourself like usual.

The tanning bed’s buzzing whirled down until it was silent, save for a few random sparks, and the bed opened up, top lifting to reveal Eddie laying in a cloud of smoke, wearing those little goggles you’d insisted on to protect those pretty eyes of his.

You got up to check on him, tapping his chest with the end of the wand, “You baked enough?”

He groaned as he sat up and dinged his head on the top of the tanning bed and you flinched, dropping the wand.

“Ooh, yeah, I’ve been there too.”

Grabbing onto his hand, you helped pull him out of the tanning bed to sit on the edge and sat beside him, pushing the goggles up his large forehead and pinning away his bangs.

Eddie didn’t say anything, just blinked sluggishly. He was baked alright, that voltage was no joke.

“Eddie,” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear me in there?”

No reaction.

“EDDIE MUNSON, CAN YOU HEAR ANYTHING I AM SAYING?!”

To your amazement, Eddie flinched away from your shrieking, and with his face turned to you, you noticed he looked different, skin more…skin like. Not the leather you’d noticed before. He still hadn’t answered you, so you kept going, “IS THAT A YES—YEAH?”

Eddie groaned out, face affronted as you continued to scream at him and your shrieking turned into screams of excitement. Eddie joined you in yelling (well, he tried, it was very loud groaning) when it dawned on him.

It worked. Eddie Munsons had two working ears.

“Oh my god!” You flung yourself at him and immediately jolted away when you got shocked. Eddie reached out for you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “No, it’s okay, that was on me. I got too excited, but oh my god! Eddie! It worked! We got you a working ear!”

You were beaming, felt like you’d cracked the secret of life. And it looked like Eddie was trying to smile at you, corners of his lips pulled up just a tad.

The two of you looked ridiculous, you with your frizzy hair, crown and fairy wand, and Eddie with his electrocuted hairdo, tanning goggles making his bangs look insane and a slightly discolored (actually, it was looking more like his skin tone now, bizarre) ear, with one earring and one hand.

You glanced down at your arm; specifically, at Eddie’s arm resting against it. The one that lacked a hand.

Well, you’d already started.

“I think I know someone who can give you a hand.”

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