#constantly jittery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

janeyseymour · 3 months

Note

Hey if you're up for a prompt I just thought of this Melissa x reader idea. Reader is a teacher at Abbott and all the teachers and the camera crew think the reader is not good when on camera ie. Smart Reader drops down to all of 1 brain cell like a deer in headlights when facing the lense, but it turns out everytime they've been filmed, either interviewed, or knowing they're shooting B-roll, Melissa has been around and Melissa has started getting suspicious of the situation. Love your work, now I'm off to read more of your writing 😘

hi i know this is so late, but... better late than never? I had a LOT of fun with this one- thank you for requesting!

Camera Shy

WC: ~4.2k (exactly!)

You aren’t an idiot. You’d like to make that very, very clear. You have your degree to teach, you have one masters, and you’re in the process of getting another masters. After this degree, you plan to get your doctorate. You have a few years of teaching under your belt at one of the neighboring districts. So, no. You aren’t an idiot. You’re actually quite the opposite.

But put you in front of the camera, and all of the intelligence in that pretty little head of yours? It’s gone. You’re reduced to all of about half of a braincell. You blush profusely, you stumble over your words, you genuinely just feel so awkward.

At least when you know there’s a camera on you. As everyone has seen from the documentary, as long as they are capturing you from a distance and you don’t explicitly know they’re filming you, you’re good. They’ve actually (with your consent) placed a few cameras around your room that are hidden or disguised so they can get more of you just doing what you know how to do. You’re in the comfort of your own classroom with your kids, and no one else is there. They’ve even managed to snag a couple of clips of you talking to your coworkers when they pop their heads into your room, specifically Janine. She tends to come in quite a bit to chat with you when she has a chance.

What people don’t realize from viewing the documentary is that all of your talking heads are done after the ‘scenes’ are shot, and they just gather you all into the hall or a classroom and call you one at a time to do different talking heads about the different situations you teachers have gotten yourselves into this week.

So when you’re doing your interviews, people are watching you from behind the cameramen. That means all of your colleagues are watching you- specifically that redheaded second grade teacher that you are undeniably attracted to. Your eyes flit to her figure constantly during your interviews or during b-roll shoots where they’re just getting shots of you all talking in the lunch room or before a meeting that Ava had organized in the library or gymnasium.

And you’ve caught her watching you too- acting like a deer in the headlights when the lens is on you. She probably thinks you’re an absolute fool. A young teacher who is just trying to get her foot in the door before heading off to another, better district. The only person who really knows of your brains at this school is Ava because she hired you.

The camera crew has come to realize that you don’t handle yourself very well in front of the camera as well.

“Do you want to keep participating in our documentary?” Rich, the head cameraman, asks you one day.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I think it’s really important that people see how teaching can change lives, and that every teacher has a different approach to teaching.”

“Okay, we just want to make sure that you’re still willing to do this for us,” he tells you gently. “If you want out and would rather just be in the background shots, here’s your out.”

“Oh. I don’t mind… most of the people I mingle with here participate, so I guess it makes sense that I would too. Why?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about yourself or not,” Rich chuckles. “But you’re terrible in front of the camera. You get all nervous and jittery whenever you know the guys are filming you.”

You turn red. “Yeah. I do. But I didn’t go into this profession to be on camera,” you joke. You can’t confess to him that the only reason you’re terrible in front of the camera is because Melissa is usually lingering around somewhere in sight, and you get distracted and flustered.

“But you know there are cameras in your room with the purpose of capturing you teaching your students or capturing the conversations you have with your coworkers,” Rich reminds you.

“Yeah, but I sometimes forget that they’re… if you guys want to come into my room and film, that’s fine with me,” you tell the head of the documentary. “I’ll be fine.”

And you are fine. Because when they’re filming in your room, Melissa Schemmenti isn’t around you.

But still, when you have to shoot B-roll or do your interviews, you are reduced to stuttering out phrases, half of them don’t even make sense. You’re as red as the second grade teacher’s hair, and you can’t help yourself.

After a bit of time, the shoots from within your classroom where they are panning back and forth and the crew is clearly in the room starts to air. And shockingly to your colleagues, you’re able to conduct lessons with the camera crew in your room.

You’re even able to have conversations in your classroom with your colleagues when Rich and his crew are in your classroom.

But still, during your talking heads and any B-roll with the entire staff present and watching, you are a flustered mess who can’t get a single sentence out without stumbling over your words.

After a bit, Rich comes back up to you.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“What can I do for you?”

“Care to do an interview?”

“About?”

“You,” he laughs. “In your room during your prep. We’ve been getting feedback from viewers that they feel they don’t really know much about you other than you get flustered in front of the camera during talking heads.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Sure, I can do that.”

“My background?” you ask the cameraman that is sitting with you at your desk as you grade papers. “Sure. I grew up in the area, went to Temple, staying true to my Philly roots. Got my bachelors there, graduated top of my class. Headed to West Chester University to get my masters in reading, and I’m currently working on my masters for applied studies in teaching. After that, who knows. Maybe I’ll get a doctorate?”

The person behind the camera raises a brow.

“I know I can come off as a ditz and a bit air headed, but I do actually have the qualifications to be here,” you chuckle. “And I do love it here at Abbott. I think this place could be my home for quite some time.”

That bit airs about a week later, and the next day, your coworkers stare at you as you enter the faculty room the next morning to put your lunch away.

“Yeah?” you ask as you open the refrigerator door.

“When were you gonna tell us you were that smart?” Melissa asks you. “Smart women are hot.”

Immediately, upon hearing her deep morning voice directed at you, and her calling you hot for your brains (something rarely anyone said), you turn beet red.

“Uh,” you stutter out.

“Sweetheart,” Barbara cuts in. “Forgive us, but most of us thought you were about as ditzy as Janine.”

The woman in question whines a, “Hey!” out, but everybody else besides Gregory nods in agreement.

“It just-“ you glance over at the redhead who is staring at you. “I-it just never came up.”

It’s later that day that you have recess duty while the rest of the teachers are eating in the staff room together. Somehow, you become the topic of choice again.

“It’s just weird,” Jacob notes.

“Maybe she’s just getting more comfortable in front of the camera,” Gregory states. “I know most of us have had some adjustments to get more comfortable with the cameras and the cameramen.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Melissa sighs. “I dunno. It seems like it’s just during B-roll or interviews though now.”

“Well, we’re all there and watching when we have to do those things,” Janine notes. “But I don’t know why that would make her uncomfortable. She talks to most of us just fine individually.”

Melissa frowns. They all talk to you individually? She’s kept her distance for the most part, and any time that she talks to you, you’re reduced to fumbling for your words. Is it her?

The redheaded second grade teacher decides to toy with this thought for the next few days. She’ll make it known that she’s around for your interviews, she’ll make it very clear that she’s going to be somewhere else during your talking heads… and she’ll move around during the b-roll shoots, even if it means that she’s away from Barbara.

“Listen up, slackers,” Ava starts a meeting before the crew pulls you individually. “We’re doing our talking heads, and they’ve been a real drag lately. Liven them up!”

“We’re doing our best, Ava,” Janine jumps in.

“Talk about more! Create more of a storyline!”

Today’s talking head interviews just so happen to be about the scene from where they were interrogating you for having quite a few credentials.

“Y/N?” Janine smiles. “Oh yeah, she’s pretty smart- I just didn’t realize she was… that smart, and I went to Penn. We’re pretty much on the same level. She’s a little quieter than the rest of us, but she fits in well.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N?” Barbara asks. “Sweet girl. Shy. But I didn’t have the slightest clue she was as bright as she is.”

“Me?” you raise a brow as Rich calls your name to take you to the hall. You nod, stand and head along with him. Melissa follows, making it very apparent that she’s watching you. You turn the brightest shade of red that you ever have.

“So, tell us what you thought about the staff asking you about your credentials,” Rich tells you. Your eyes flit to the redhead behind him, and her eyes narrow slightly as she folds her arms across her chest.

“I- uh, didn’t-“ you swallow harshly. “I didn’t think it was that big of- of a deal? I- I know how to- how to teach.”

“How did you feel about Barbara’s comment about you being ditzy?”

“I-it didn’t bother me,” you shrug. “I’m aware I-I can c-come off like that.”

It’s clear they aren’t going to get much more out of you, so he allows you to go, and you can feel your ears burning as you have to brush past Melissa to get back to the library.

“Schemmenti?” they call her name. “Since you’re here, you wanna?”

You thank God you don’t have to walk back with her. That would just be beyond awkward for you, and you’re not sure you would be able to conduct yourself properly.

Melissa leans up against the wall to do her talking head.

“So, tell us what you think of Y/N,” Rich prompts.

“What do I think of her? She’s cute, sweet when she actually talks- insanely shy. I think she’s a good teacher,” Melissa tells the crew. “I think she’s a bit of a ditz sometimes, but if her degrees say anything, she’s bright. I just don’t quite understand why she gets so flustered during B-roll or talking heads.”

“Interesting,” one of the other crew members hums. “Say more.”

“I mean, youse heard what we were talking about during lunch while she was doing recess duty,” the redhead shrugs. “She’s fine with the staff individually, she can handle you guys in her classroom now… but then whenever we’re all together, she sounds like a mor- please don’t air this. I don’ wanna hurt the kid’s feelings.”

“We won’t,” Rich assures Melissa. “It’s more just for our background knowledge so that maybe we can get some other footage.”

The next day’s talking heads are the same. The second grade teacher makes it very known that she will be watching your interview, and you can’t get anything out. Your eyes are wide, and you look like you just saw a ghost.

The camera crew sees the way that your eyes flit to Melissa, and one of them silently signals for a smaller camera to pan over to the woman watching you. She makes eye contact with one of them before raising an eyebrow. Interesting.

“Y/N?” Mr. Johnson is called for his talking head, but they take him to his mop closet. “Sweet, smart girl. Always tidies up her room before leaving… Oh, and something’s going on between her and Melissa.”

The man behind the camera gives him a curious look. “Can you tell us more about that? We won’t air it, but maybe it can lead us to something… new.”

” Can’t tell if she’s terrified of her, thinks she’s hot, or both,” Mr. Johnson laughs. “I seen the way Y/N’s eyes get all big whenever Melissa walks into a room. Ears turn red. It’s funny.”

With Mr. Johnson’s insights, the crew decides to play with this a little. They don’t know that Melissa is already suspicious of it as well.

They have Melissa pulled away when it’s your turn for your talking head of the day, and you’re able to make it through that interview with no problems.

They seat her next to you during one of the B-roll shoots, and you look absolutely terrified the entire time. Your cheeks are flushed, you nervous play with your necklace, and you fidget the entire time.

Then, they have her pulled from it under the guise of having to do another interview. You’re perfectly fine. You relax almost instantly. You stop fidgeting, and you’re able to listen to everything that Ava is going on about- as much as you wish you weren’t listening to some of it. That woman really is something else.

Melissa notices the way that you tense up when she’s around and seemingly relax when she isn’t. She can’t quite explain how it makes her feel. But soon, those episodes start to air as well. And there is a stark difference between the talking heads that you did in front of her and the ones you did without her presence.

After a few weeks of this game that the crew is playing, along with the game that Melissa is playing, it’s clear to the redhead what is happening. She’s the only one that you rarely interact with. She’s obviously the one who makes you nervous, and she needs to know why.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa comes in with one of the crew members who follows the second grade teacher rather regularly.

“H-hey,” you turn and close your laptop to turn your full attention to the redhead. Your ears turn beet red, as does your face and chest. “H-how can I help you, Miss Schemmenti?” You eye the camera warily.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asks you point blank. “Why’re you weird around me?”

“I’m- I’m not?” you raise a brow at her. “I just- I’m not great with the cameras.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it,” the redhead retorts. “You been so good in front of the camera lately. We’ve all seen it with the new episodes airing.”

You shrug. You really don’t know what you’re supposed to say.

“You don’ like me or somethin’?” she crosses her arms.

“No, M-Melissa,” you stutter out. “It isn’t like that at all.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re only weird when I’m around,” Melissa continues to dig her heels in.

Again, you shrug.

The redhead presses her lips together in a fine line before cocking her head slightly as she makes eye contact with the camera. Then, she turns on her heel and leaves. They follow her as she leaves before cutting back to you- jaw open and confused.

They pull both of you for interviews later that day, and you don’t even know what to say.

“I- I’m not weird around her,” you say. “I rarely talk to her unless she talks to me first, and even then, I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Is there a reason for that?” one of the interviewers asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “She’s part of the crew that I usually hang with, but she’s- you’ve met her. She’s got a tough exterior, and I’m a little intimidated by her- especially with how shy I already am.”

Her talking head isn’t much different. “I don’t know why she’s so weird around me. We don’t even talk that often.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“She’s part of the crew, but I can be intimidating. I don’ wanna scare the poor thing… I actually do enjoy her presence,” the redhead says, and then her eyes unfocus, and it’s like she’s thinking of something else- you.

Later that day, they find the janitor that wanders the halls. His only comment on the situation is, “Interesting.”

The two of you dance around each other, the way that you have been. Until she starts to go out of her way to talk to you, because “Well, if we hang with the same crew, we might as well become friendly with each other.”

You still turn beet red any time she talks to you. She takes notice.

Finally, she corners you in your room during your prep one day right before school lets out for the year. She’s forgotten about the cameras that are still ‘hidden’ in your room due to the fact that they haven’t used those shots in months- you’ve gotten pretty good in front of the cameramen at this point.

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa says as she knocks on your door gently and pulls the door so that it’s only open a crack. “We gotta talk.”

Your eyes widen, you bite your lip, and you turn beet red. “Y-yeah. What’s up?”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Get all nervous around me,” she says. “I ain’t that scary, am I?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then why do you get all red whenever I’m around? Stumble over your words? I’ve noticed it for a while now, so I thought I would try to be nicer to you to show you I really ain’t all that scary, but nothin’s working.”

You scratch the back of your neck before running a hand through your hair nervously. You really don’t think you can tell her that the reason you always get so flustered around her is because you’ve always thought she was very pretty, and you’re actually falling for her now that you’ve actually gotten to know her a little better when she talks to you at lunch or during B-roll shoots.

“C’mon, hun,” she prompts you. “It’s just us. You can talk to me.”

You glance over at one of the cameras on your bookshelf before sighing. “I- I don’t really know how to say this.”

“You got it,” she encourages you.

With a deep breath, you quietly admit, “You intimidate me.”

“I gathered that much, Y/N,” the redhead rolls her eyes playfully as she unfolds her arms and sits on one of the desks near yours. “Why?”

“Be-because,” you blink a few times. “Because I think you’re really pretty.”

“Well,” she laughs. “That’s because I am.”

“And I- I’m attracted to you,” you whisper out.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she jokes with you, but then she turns serious. “Wait, what?”

“I think- I think you’re really pretty, and you’re funny, and smart, and you’re really good with the kids, and I just think that you’re a really wonderful woman behind that tough leather jacket you like to wear. I just like you, but you scare me, and I’m scared that I like you because you aren’t like anyone else that I’ve ever fallen for before,” the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your hands fly to your mouth in shock at yourself. You can’t believe you just admitted that. “Oh… Oh, God. Uh, just forget everything I just-”

You’re cut off by her lips being gently pressed to yours to shut you up. Your eyes widen for a few seconds before your brain starts back up and you kiss her back.

“You wanna know why I avoided you for so long?” she asks you once the two of you break apart for air. She’s looking at you with those glowing green eyes. You just barely nod. “When you walked in the front door on your first day, I couldn’t deny the way I felt about you. But I didn’t wanna scare you off- you’re already so timid. So I just let you be and admired from afar.”

“So… why did you start talking to me?” you ask nervously.

“Admittedly,” she chuckles softly as she tucks a hair of yours behind your ear. “The crew had something to do with that. They were constantly questioning me about you once you got more comfortable around the cameras… they realized you were only getting flustered if I was around, and I kind of noticed it too. So I took matters into my own hands,” she laughs. “I guess it paid off?”

“I’d say so,” you whisper. “Wow,” you sigh to yourself softly. “Is this… are you serious about kissing me just now?”

“I am,” she laughs as she leans in again and pecks your lips. “So… dinner at my house after we leave?”

“I think that’d be nice,” you sigh in content.

What the two of you don’t know is that Mr. Johnson just witnessed the whole thing, and before either of you could even begin to think anyone had heard anything, he’s running down the hall to tell the crew what he had just witnessed and that they have to pull the camera from your room to see it too.

—

You and Melissa, now an item but keeping it on the down low, spend most of the summer at the beach… you only find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with her the more time you spend with her.

But as it always does, Summer goes by too quickly for either of your liking, and you find yourself back at Abbott. During the break, you kind of forgot that the cameras hidden in your room captured the sweet moment and beginning of the two of you. That is, until Rich pulls the two of you aside on your first day back. He takes the two of you into one of the meeting rooms to do a talking head- different from how they normally conduct these shoots.

“So…” he chuckles. “How was your break?” he asks the two of you during a joint-interview.

“Oh,” you turn red. “It was- it was fine.”

“Spent a lot of time at the beach,” Melissa shrugs, but she doesn’t look at you. You haven’t told the crew about your relationship.

“Uh, me too,” you say nervously, hoping it doesn’t give the two of you away.

“Did you two forget that your whole little love confession happened in front of cameras?” he asks you as he stops rolling and lowers his camera.

Your eyes widen, as do your girlfriend’s. The two of you exchange nervous looks.

“Well, we actually pulled the two of you aside to ask if it’s okay to air,” he tells the two of you. “We both know that you’re two of the more private people at Abbott, but we do think it would be great for ratings. Of course though, if you don’t want it-”

“Y-you can air it, if it’s okay with Melissa,” you say quietly. “I- I don’t mind.”

The redhead looks at you before taking your hand and squeezing it gently. “If Y/N is okay with it, I guess I am too… Can’t hide it forever, especially with loudmouth Janine around.”

—

When the first episode of the new season starts airing, the crew had decided use the first few minutes to do a recap of what had happened last school year, as well as a few things that people had missed. They show what had been aired last season, her confronting you the first time- when the cameramen were with her, where you hadn’t said anything. And then of course, it cuts to the shots from your classroom where the two of you had confessed your feelings for each other are there, and then it cuts to a talking head of Mr. Johnson.

“I knew it,” he chuckles from his mop closet. “I told y’all Y/N had the hots for Schemmenti. Hell yeah!”

The rest of the episode, both of your phones are blowing up from your coworkers in absolute disbelief. You laugh as you put both of your phones on ‘do not disturb’ before you’re curling further into Melissa’s side to watch the rest of the episode, a glass of wine in hand. Occasionally, you peck her cheek, or she dots your hairline with a gentle kiss when the show the two of you together. When the episode is over, you both retire up to her bedroom. She plugs in your phones before the two of you get ready for a good night’s sleep. Neither of you bother to respond to the plethora of texts you’ve both received. You’ll handle your ridiculous coworkers tomorrow.

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

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sphireath-wisp · 5 months

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#Amator

Sypnosis: Things they love doing for you - no matter how ridiculous it is, no matter how terrible they are at doing it, no matter how many failed attempts it costs them, no matter how much time and energy it eats up of their day, no matter how much it inconvenienced them.

Warnings: not proofread (as usual)

Notes: The word 'amateur' originates from the word 'amator' which is Latin for lover/to love/love. An interpretation of it could be to do something for the love of it, to do something simply because you love it. Amateurs at loving learning how to love and loving no matter how horrible they are at it.

Featuring: Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage x GN! Reader

Michael Kaiser - who plans dates beforehand as he learns more about you, who loves being cheesy and romantic, with flowers and decorations so extravagant that they could be considered tacky.

Kaiser, oh Kaiser. He never fails to surprise and keep you on your toes. He doesn't care when you've grown a 6th sense for whatever he's scheming because it just proves that you've spent a lot of time with him - so much to the point where you recognise that smirk on his face the moment he's planning something.

With a bouquet of your favourite flowers, he masks how he's simply a bundle of nerves - all jittery and antsy - with his usual charming grin. Kaiser ponders if this is enough for you, if this date was too sudden, if he got you a big enough bouquet, but his doubts wash away when your skin meets his. Your kisses leave him breathless, his mind goes blank and the only thought he could process is how he wants more.

"Too much?" He repeats after you, laughing at the idea that something like this is too much when he was just worrying that this wasn't enough to wow you just moments ago. If this is too much, you have no other choice than to get used to it. Get ready for your whole world to be shaken by him since he'll swoop you off your feet without an ounce of hesitation.

"Meine Liebe, this isn't too much," he's firm, confident as usual. He knows that he means every word. Tucking a strand of your hair away from your pretty face, he doesn't realize the way his smile grows.

Perhaps that's what makes him so naturally charming about him - how he's so romantic and old-school it almost makes you want to barf. Cheesy love letters, dancing at midnight in the kitchen alongside an empty bottle of wine, symphonies of hums and laughter fill the room.

When you fall in love with him even deeper, he notices, yet not a word is uttered - no teasing or playful bantering tonight. Good, keep looking at him like that, you're always so enchanting to the point where he'd do this all over again to get another look at your lovestruck face.

Sae Itoshi - whose thoughts are constantly being eaten up by you despite the minimal chances you both get to bask in each other's presence, who poorly imitates the example of so-called 'romantic gestures' until he becomes good at it.

He finds himself at the front step of a local flower shop, mind consumed by you even during his morning jogs. With a hesitant step into the shop, teal eyes wander every bouquet on display. Frequently, his teammates would buy gifts such as this for their significant others, so you would like it if he did the same... right?

Sae is quick to learn that he should prepare something to say beforehand.

"Oh, you bought this for me?" You ask aloud, a little stunned by the sudden act. "Mm," is all Sae replies with, calmly passing you the bouquet. You clasp it in your hands with a touch much more gentle compared to his.

"Thank you, sweetheart," You croon the endearing term you assigned him, something only you call him, something only he allows you to call him, and something that he's grown fond of. Silence sits in the air as he sits down across from you, the piping hot cup of coffee you never fail to prepare for him on the table.

"Something wrong?"

"...Nothing."

"Sae... I can tell when something is on your mind." a sigh, "It's okay. Take your time to open up to me."

He pauses. Scratching the back of his neck, his gaze flickers between you and the cup of coffee. "Sorry, things became awkward all of a sudden. I bought you that bouquet impulsively."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't mind. If that's how you want to show me that you love me, that isn't wrong either. There's no wrong way to love." The rain outside gets heavier, the sound of rain hitting the windows filling the room as you inch your hands closer to his.

"What's your favorite flower?" Sae speaks up, eyes stuck your hands when they encase his, fingers re-exploring every crease of his palm. "I never got to ask before." A newfound determination can be found in the firm grip he has on you, spine straightening.

"I don't have a favorite but I guess... orchids." You grin, "You just bought me orchids after all."

Seishiro Nagi - who's always on your side, who learns your non-verbal cues

"Wow, you're so capable," Your friend sighs, sarcasm evident in their tone. Eyes rolling as you nudge them, laughing along and apologizing. Leaving your bag with Nagi, you turned and made your way back to your apartment - which wasn't so far away.

"Jeez, if we're late, this is going to be all their fault," Your friend leans their weight on one leg, shaking their head in disappointment. "Gosh, they're so forgetful, it's annoying sometimes."

"(Name) just forgot, no big deal," Nagi murmured to your friend. He finds his mood souring when they criticise you, jaw clenching unconsciously at their words when he's usually so nonchalant about things. "We rushed 'em too," he continues, failing to notice how adamant he is about defending you.

"I'm just saying,"

Nagi's usual frown deepens by a bit as he bites the inside of his cheek.

Noticing the stifling tension in the air, your friend opens their mouth but eventually purses their lips in thought, deciding to hold back their retorts. "...Should we just go first? I don't wanna be late. Plus, (Name) knows the way there anyway."

"You go, 'm gonna wait for (Name)," Nagi sits down on a bench, placing your bag on his lap and hugging it to his chest. He doesn't notice when your friend has turned heel and left - or rather, he doesn't really care enough to notice. By the time you find him, he's on his phone and busy playing games.

You tap him on the shoulder. "Where's (Friend's Name)?" He shrugs. "Left first."

"Oh..." Your tone dips.

"Upset?" He notices.

You nod your head, "Kinda."

"It's okay," he replies. What you assume to be a half-hearted attempt at consoling you works out splendidly when he pulls you into a hug. "Don't worry about them, let's go. We could even ditch them and go home if you wanna."

Reo Mikage - who doesn't believe in being 'desperate' when you're too in love with someone to care, who can't believe you when you tell him that he's your dream guy.

"Another one?! I live in an apartment, not a garden, Reo!" An exasperated sigh escapes you, but you can't stay mad at him for long when puppy dog eyes stare back at you. A wide grin spreads on his face, entering your house as if it were his own as he settles the bouquet down on your coffee table.

Since starting your relationship, Reo has insisted on being a gentleman - opening doors for you, carrying your stuff, and learning more about you and your struggles once you're comfortable enough to open up to him. As if he wasn't enough of a dreamboat and too lucky of a catch for you, he never fails to send you flowers every week.

Even on the weeks he's busy, he'll have them delivered, even profusely apologizing because he couldn't meet you face-to-face even though the gesture alone made your heart melt. He excels at everything, and charming you is one of the things he's particularly good at.

"Are they becoming a hassle for you, babe?" Reo asks, strolling around to realize that you've built up quite the collection of flowers. "I could rent out somewhere for you to keep them all."

"That's too much. Plus, I like having them here," He nods at your words, taking quick notice of the sticky note you attached to the stem of each bouquet - keeping track of which date he gave these flowers to you on.

"Are you sure? You don't have to keep them all. Throw them out if you have to."

"Positive. I can somewhat garden now thanks to you."

Taglist: @dewwberry, @saenora, @van1lla-alt

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

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leveling the playing field IV

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!

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a/n: im just hammering this out at this point-

next part

The following days were full of a new routine. Every morning, take pain medication for your now neverending migraine, gather food for Lucy Gray and the Snow's, check in with Jessup and redress his bite as best you can, go to the hospital and be denied visitation to Coryo, go to class, and then start the cycle again that afternoon. You were getting burnt out, and quickly- your parents were displeased that you weren't home as often. Their patience was wearing thin.

If you were honest with yourself, your patience was also wearing thin. You were catering to Lucy Gray, which of course you agreed to do, but in the case that she wins the games, the Plinth Prize would not be going to you. It would still go to Coriolanus- and he was in the hospital doing nothing but recovering. Which was good. You remind yourself several times a day that you are happy to help because at least he isn't dead.

The sun is setting when Coriolanus wakes up again, this time feeling less groggy. He's been in and out the last few days, most of it as a blur due to the pain medication that has been pumping into his system through an IV for the last few days. He does vaguely remember waking up to eat as much as he could stomach, talking to Clemensia, maybe, unless he was hallucinating, and telling a nurse to stop letting you in when he kept seeing covered plates and glass containers showing up with more food. It had to have been you, and while he was grateful for it, he loathed the idea of you pitying him.

Tigris and Sejanus were both present, now, and despite telling the staff to not let you in, he's more than a little disappointed you are not there. He furrows his brow, attempting to pull out the tube from his hand. "Hey, hey-" Tigris stops him, shaking her head out of confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fine. I'm better." He insists, pushing her hand away.

"I need to go check on Lucy Gray..." He mumbles, shaking his head.

"Y/N is with her. She's fine." Sejanus tells him, standing by the end of the bed.

"Now? What time is it? How do you know?"

"Well, the interviews will start in an hour or so." His friend explains.

"An hour?" Coriolanus asks, now more frantically pulling out the tube with a hiss. He has to be there, he has to go introduce Lucy Gray. He didn't even consciously realize time was passing while he was there.

"No, Coryo, you can't go. Y/N can handle it." Tigris says, trying to calm him.

"Sejanus, are you going?" He asks, ignoring his cousin completely.

Sejanus looks down, shaking his head and twisting his fingers out of nervousness. "No, uh, Marcus escaped. He's gone."

Coriolanus was disappointed- he was hoping he would be able to hitch a ride with him. He'll have to run- though it isn't too far.

"Okay, well, I'm going." He insists, grabbing a pile of clean clothes that Tigris had brought for him the day previous.

Tigris gives up on trying to stop him, and Sejanus hasn't really attempted to. He knows that you would be happy to see him if he is feeling well enough to go. Watching you in class, constantly jittery and even a little pale, made it evident that you needed Coriolanus, or you were worried, at the very least.

Thankful for the morphing he still had in his bloodstream, he makes it to the studio in time for Lucy Gray's interview, even with a few minutes to spare. As soon as he sees you, he can tell that you've been struggling. The bags under your eyes couldn't be hidden by makeup, nor could your healing bruises from the bombing that were now turning a shade of green that would typically make him ill. Scattered as well among them were some darker ones, purple ones, around your elbow and on your wrist. Regardless, you're smiling- talking in a hushed tone to Lucy Gray.

You're opening your brother's guitar case, carefully lifting it out of the velvet that surrounded it when you see Coryo walking toward you, and you're immediately abandoning your effort to stand up and greet him. "Coryo? What are you doing here?" You ask, excitement fading into worry.

"I wouldn't miss it." He smiles politely, adjusting his cuffs.

You sigh, finding the effort to match his smile. "You made it." Lucy Gray grins at him, brushing over her face with a cloth you offered her, a small effort to clean up the dirt and grime that clung to her skin in the zoo.

"Well, I got her a guitar. It's my brothers." You quickly move on, already feeling comforted by his presence alone. You grab it, holding it out to him as Lucy digs into the makeup that you had brought for her to borrow, hoping to add some life back into her face.

He takes it, looking over the polished wood and the brand-new strings. "Thank you. And it's tuned? Working order?"

"Tip top shape." You promise with a nod. "I had it professionally looked over this morning."

"You're a dream." Coryo praises you, making you blush. "Thank you, Y/N. Truly."

"It's my job."

Lucy Gray did amazing in her performance- and everyone loved it. She received the most donations by a long shot, which will allow Coriolanus to help her in the arena. As much as he can without changing her abilities to defend herself or fight, anyway.

You had made it home shortly after, returning your brother's guitar and having a shower before practically crawling into bed. Finally, you feel like you may be able to get a good night's sleep. Coryo is home, and even though you have an early morning, you'll be able to relax enough to rest.

That is, until you hear something snapping against the window next to your bed. You try and ignore it, covering your ears with your pillow, but the tapping persists.

You flick on your lamp and hesitantly pull back the curtain, peeking out to track the source of the noise. It was only a moment before your eyes landed on Coryo, who waves when he can see you in the window. You rub your eyes, squinting from the light and sliding the window open.

"Coryo?" You ask, confused as to why he's here.

"Come down, bring your notebook." He whispers loud enough for you to hear, but his voice is still soft enough to not wake anyone else in your house. "And a coat, it's quite cold."

You sigh. "Okay. Give me two minutes." Apparently, rest isn't a part of your evening plans.

You follow alongside him all the way to the arena, already set up to host the Hunger Games in the morning.

"Woah..." You gasp, walking into the same clearing you had just days before, but now it looked like a whole new place. "Okay. This we can work with." You smile a little to yourself, not noticing Coryo training his eyes on you.

He watches as you walk ahead of him, immediately toward the center of the large room as you scribble in your notebook. You wanted to get down as many details as possible, every new pile of debris or hole that could offer a place of refuge for Lucy Gray. Coriolanus wants to focus on the task at hand, but this is the first time he's been around you without the prying eyes of classmates or adults in a long time. You were never alone, he almost always was outside of school.

Walking up next to you, the light from the moon hits your hair and the side of your face as you look around, hardly glancing at the book in your hand. "Are you..." He starts, being reminded of what he noticed on the walk over but wouldn't dare to mention.

"Hm?" You prompt him to continue, drawing your attention to the boy in front of you now and lifting your pen to your mouth, biting onto it while you shake out a cramp in your wrist.

"Are you wearing makeup?" He asks, leaning in slightly to get a closer look.

"Excuse me?" You laugh awkwardly after grabbing the pen once more, taking a small step back. "Certainly your grandmother taught you its unbecoming to ask a lady such a question."

He chuckles slightly, looking away from you. "Bold of you to assume I consider you a lady." He jokes.

You gasp in mock offense, playfully smacking his arm. "How dare you!" You can't help but laugh. Now you remember why you were friends. Or why you considered him a friend, and why he believed that he was merely tolerating you. In reality, he didn't have to bring you. He could have come on his own, but why should he when you would be willing to accompany him? You're known for your attitude, your brashness, and he admired your unwavering ambition- whatever you wanted you would get. Not just because of your family name, either. You were willing to work for it, to fight for it.

Coriolanus was walking a fine line between desiring your presence and his own indifference. Now, surpassing a mere tolerance of you, this change scared him. "I know what you look like, you know. It's the middle of the night, there was no use wasting our time with putting on makeup." He says, not wanting to let on his own intrigue on the topic.

"I would argue that you don't, not since we were fourteen, anyway." You reply, dipping your head to get back to your sketching. "It's more of a force of habit."

His closeness allows him to grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently but firmly lifting your head back up to get a better look at you. Your eyes widen, your heartbeat increasing with a mix of fear and embarrassment.

His eyes bore into you, into every part of your face as if your skin would somehow tell him the full story. You can't bring yourself to speak, just waiting for him to find the answers he wanted.

"Is it your father?" He asks, looking into your eyes now, his grip loosening on your chin.

You take a quick step back. You were aware that he knew something, he was the only one who tended to stare too long at your skin wherever it was exposed ever since you were thirteen and he asked what happened when you came to school with a bruise on your cheek. Notably more so after your essay last year that rewarded you with only a B.

"I won't tell anyone." He says, and your own voice echoes in your mind after telling him the same thing just the other day at your house. "I would have by now if I was going to."

"Why do you care?" You bite back, defensiveness being your go to weapon in a war of self-preservation.

He wants to spit at you that he doesn't, but that's a lie he couldn't even dream of in this moment. You'd storm out, probably never talk to him again, and that idea hurt him. "I want to help you."

"Well, not much anyone can do now is there?" You reply, attempting to move on. "Let's look around." You try and change the subject, give yourself an outlet to walk away, but this doesn't work as Coryo is grabbing your wrist, stopping you from taking another step.

"You can help by ignoring it." You sigh, his blue eyes just staring as he scrambled to find the right thing to say. "By not treating me like I'm going to break at every turn. How does that sound?"

He opens his mouth to speak but he doesn't, slightly shaking his head. He wants to release his grip on your wrist, tense and tight with urgency, but how could he without giving you the idea he thinks he's hurting you? He slides his hand into yours, holding his breath. "I apologize. It's not what I intended."

Now it's your turn to be speechless, staring down at your hands locked together.

"I just wanted to keep you safe." He explains, dancing around the idea even in his own mind that maybe he cares for you more than he should. "After Arachne, and after Clemensia, and now the Ring twins and Felix still fighting in that hospital bed it's so obvious to me that we are far from safe in this. We always were."

Your brow furrows. "What happened to Clem?"

"Dr. Gaul..." He takes in a deep breath. "One of her experiments, Clemensia has been in the hospital for days and she has these scales growing all over her and I thought I watched her die and then you almost died and-"

"Hey, hey, woah-" You cut him off, stepping closer again and not daring to drop his hand as he begins to crumble in front of you. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

He just nods, attempting to swallow back the fear in his voice.

"Okay. So, we've made it this far. You'll get that prize, we'll move on. Next year it will be someone else's problem. You will be safe." You say, squeezing his hand gently. "We're almost done, just a few more days."

His mouth is dry, and despite his heart racing, he knows you are right. After tonight, you won't be face-to-face with the tributes again. Neither of you will be in harm's way anymore, at least, not due to the games. Life will return to normal for you, and he will claim the prize he is owed and his life will change for the better. You won't be bringing him food every day, and you won't both be stressing over how to best prepare Lucy Gray. The tightness in his chest returns as his thoughts devolve- will he miss you?

It catches you off guard when he pulls you into a hug. Tight, panicked, heavy under the weight of all the tragedy and grief the two of you walk around with day to day. There is no one who gets him quite like you do. This time, he rests his chin on your head as your arms wrap around his waist, hands overlapping on his back. No, it's not enough. He tilts his head down so he can feel the warmth of you on his cheek, holding you tight as he takes in the scent of your hair. It's not roses, not like his mother's powder or what's left of her clothes in the Snow apartment, it's fresh. The smell of whatever soap you use doesn't demand to be noticed and inhaled, it's mostly full of you. Raspberries. That's it- it's raspberries mixed with you.

"We're almost done..." You whisper again, gently rubbing his back now in reassurance. He wonders, could you not feel the weight of everything? Of both of your entire lives barreling toward you all at once? Of course not. You were Y/N Y/L/N, you could only feel the pain of others; altruism drips out of every ounce of your being despite your habit of lashing out. Of course, you couldn't see it. You only saw him right now. Not his fear of losing you.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @babyspice6, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pixiepopz, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @nhlfs, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @sunghoonsbakery, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @@deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit

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#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #thg #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction

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elsmstrss · 1 year

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HIIII BABE requesting general hcs of what ellie williams is like as a gf, i feel like she’s such a simp

hi baby!! ellie is down astronomically BAD i just know it

ellie williams headcannon: ellie as your simpy gf

tags: ellie williams x gn!reader , fluff , headcannon , lapslock , ellie is a simp for reader , some suggestive *wink* content , no actual smut tho ! , ellie is so dramatic pls

i feel like ellie would be so clingy towards you. it genuinely confuses everyone in jackson because ellie kind of built this stoic and mysterious image around the town but, whenever she's around you, she noticeably melts.

she's gotten into trouble with maria multiple times for skipping out on her duties to spend time with you.

"yeah maria i don't think i can today, i don't feel too well," ellie would sniffle, coughing dramatically and peeking up at maria to gauge her reaction. maria would just roll her eyes and let it slide because it's actually impressive the lengths ellie will go just to spend time with you.

god forbid ellie is around whenever you're dressed up even just a tiny bit more than the usual old and distressed get-up you tolerate for patrol.

you'd walk into the room, ellie sitting on the bed waiting patiently. the second her eyes land on you, her hand is clutching her chest and she falls back onto the bed dramatically.

"damn baby, it should be a crime to look this good. i dont know if i can handle it anymore."

you just laugh and playfully slap her arm, earning an extremely fond look from ellie before she pulls you in to attack your lips.

jokes aside you still affect ellie badly, even after all this time.

it physically pains her to see you hurt, in any form. she's anxious and jittery whenever your not on her radar.

and whenever you two fuck, it's like the first time all over again. when you strip for her, you'd swear it was the first time she's ever seen you like that. her eyes travel over your body and she's so desperate to touch you, she's completely enamored by you.

you're always on her mind too.

whenever she's out on patrol, she always makes it a point to bring some kind of gift for you. whether it was a pretty flower she saw that reminded her of you, or a book you had mentioned you wanted to read, or even a necklace she knew you would love.

anways, your friends constantly tease you both about it, how ellie is literally at your beck and call, but ellie doesn't even bother to deny the allegations.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #anon submission

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bunny-yan · 1 year

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Incubus!Yandere x GN!Reader

thanks @astoriavincente for responding to my sleep post. This is something that I thought of, so I hope you like it~

TW: mentions death, descriptions of violence, non-con touching, implied non-con,

—

“You look terrible.”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Thanks. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear today.” You couldn’t really get upset because you knew what your friend was talking about. You had horrible bags underneath your eyes.

“You really need to get more sleep.”

Smiling, you shook your head. “I know.”

It wasn’t that you couldn’t sleep. It was that you didn’t want to. Whenever you closed your eyes at night, gruesome images haunted you. Whether it was “waking up” to find that you were actively being enclosed in an iron maiden that put holes in horrible places or seeing those you cared for being tied off to mysterious creatures before they were torn limb from limb. You didn’t think you could find the sound of a dislocating shoulder that disturbing, but maybe it only lingered because you could still feel the way their screams scratched against your skull.

You died.

You close your eyes and you’ve died a million times, but your options to stay awake were running out. You’d become an avid coffee drinker. You couldn’t stand the taste at first and you were a little hesitant to down energy drinks at the rate you learned to accept coffee.

Your were jittery, unable to stop your hands from shaking, but it didn’t really interfere with your daily life. At least not too much. You were constantly on edge, jumpy, paranoid at times if you ever found yourself drifting off to experience a quick death before coming back, in shock and uneasy. The color red would trigger violent reactions. Flinching so hard there would be pain in your neck for hours after or bringing flashbacks of broken bodies. Mostly yours.

You were past the point of being afraid of falling asleep, but your options to stay awake were running out.

The coffee wasn’t working anymore. You didn’t know if it was possible to build up a tolerance but after weeks of four to eight cups of coffee a day, your body was screaming at you that it wanted a break. Your eyelids felt heavy, brain pulsing like a heartbeat too fast to be healthy. You needed rest, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t unsee those horrifying images, haunting you vividly even while you were awake. If your fear was this strong while you were awake, you didn’t want the immersed experience.

The coffee wasn’t working anymore. On your way to work, you were dazed, distracted. It felt as if you were walking on a cloud made of iron and you couldn’t say what you were looking at. Everything and nothing as you stepped out into the street with car lights beaming dangerously close. Horns blared, people shouted but your attention was elsewhere. You were only jerked back when a hand closed around your collar and the crook of your arm to yank you to safety. You felt pain in your shoulder. Looking into your friend’s terrified face and at the street behind you, it didn’t take long to realize what had happened. You narrowly missed experiencing death, but it would’ve been the only one you didn’t come back from.

You were being sent home for the day, your friend reporting what happened after taking you to the hospital. You couldn’t be mad at them for stopping you from coming into work. Or for your sprained shoulder. They were worried. You hadn’t been acting like yourself for days. You were quiet, despondent, it took touching you to get your attention, and the incident that happened this morning was just the cherry on top. You needed rest.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror and your appearance was ghastly. Your eyes were red and beginning to sink in, the bags deep around your eyes. If your friend thought you looked bad before, he probably thought you were close to knocking on death’s door when he saw you today.

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face before entering your bedroom. You stared at your bed, something that should’ve brought you comfort but you only felt that it would quickly lull you into a false sense of security.

Tears came to your eyes, but you wiped them away. It would only exhaust you more to be emotional.

Sitting on the bed, you stiffly laid on your back. Looking at your ceiling, you felt a sense of unease wrap around your spine, urging you to sit up, to do something, anything so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You don’t remember when your ceiling transformed into a pitch black darkness.

Looking around, you assumed that you had fallen asleep, not surprised at all that it happened so quickly. Nothing was rushing at you with a weapon. You weren’t tied down or hung upside down or enclosed in anything. You felt yourself take a relieved breath, stuttering slightly when flickering lights began to bounce against the pitch black surface.

You didn’t understand what was happening, but they seemed to shine brighter when you took a step in their direction. A part of you wondered whether it was a good idea to follow these mysterious lights, but you felt anything was better than the chance of being attacked if you didn’t follow them.

They led you through the darkness for a while, pulsing with a life that was mesmerizing. You didn’t even realize when you passed under an archway, crossing over a barrier that your senses would have normally warned you to avoid.

But you could trust the lights. They led with a certain undeniable confidence, promising protection for as long as you trusted their guide.

“Hello?”

You looked up, noticing someone you had never seen before. They seemed to be floating in midair, slowly lowering themselves to look at you. There seemed to be something pink emanating from the strange figure, a sweet smell wafting across your nose.

“I didn’t think it’d be this easy, but I guess humans don’t have the mental fortitude to put up with continuous torture.”

You were confused. Why was he referring to you as a human as if he wasn’t one? It was only then that you noticed the large spade tail swinging lethargically behind him.

What as he? It was the first time anyone spoke in your dreams. The mysterious figures were either too busy killing you or chasing you through endless damnation to have a conversation. But he had called out to you. Did that mean you could respond back?

“Who are you?”

His eyes stopped looking you over, meeting yours before he gave a wide grin.

“I suppose introductions are in order.” With a snap of his fingers a bed appeared to which he as instantly lounging on.

“But you wouldn’t believe the amount of power I’ve drained to get you here. We can save it after a bit of fun.”

His tone turned seductive and you knew you did not like where this was going. Turning around, you attempted to go back the way you came, but your body ran into an invisible wall.

“You can’t leave.” he said, sounding exasperated that he had to explain this to you. “You’ve already entered the barrier and you can’t leave without my permission.”

With a finger crooked in your direction, you flew through the air landing with a surprising amount of force on the plush bed.

“Now,” he said, a thumb caressing your cheek. “Would you prefer lace or leather?”

You wanted to scream when your clothes transformed between scandalous versions of your two options, but you felt heady with fatigue. What was happening?

Your vision was hazy, your limbs not listening to you as you looked at the mysterious figure.

“Oh, you poor, poor thing.” he said, climbing on top of you, horns emerging from his skull as his body shifted into something large, something horrifyingly beautiful. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to take good care of you.”

#yandere #incubus #yandere incubus #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #nightmares

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