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biblio-smia · 15 hours

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read part one here

it's hard to wipe your hands with the tray of brownies in your hands, one that you're beginning to regret bringing. the courage in you has died in the short walk over, leaving your hands clammy and your heart to thump quickly.

it's too late to back out once the door opens to peter's aunt, your figure through the semi-opaque door beginning to become suspicious. your nerves have grown tenfold in the few seconds it has taken to reveal the older woman, fragments of a formal introduction attempting to make it out.

"oh, i know who you are, honey." peter's aunt saves you sweetly, waving you off.

"i just... wanted to come and offer my condolences." it's hard for you to look her in the eye as you bring forward your baked goods.

"oh, thank you very much." there's a deep sweetness in her voice, an acknowledgement of the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. there's a knowing kind of look in her eye as her lips part to add something else; but the wind carries what would've been her words as the two of you turn towards a new sound from inside the house - one calling your name questioningly.

"peter? were you planning on going out?" there's suspicion in her voice, leaving you with the feeling that the word again was missing from the end of her question.

peter's still, as if he's been caught. his eyes move between may and you, his gaze making you aware of how out of place you are.

"no. no- i just..." peter trails off, the hood on his head making him look even further away. the worry in his aunt's voice strikes you as more than reasonable.

aunt may's own eyes travel, not missing the way you and peter looked at each other. fleeting, nervous glances suggest to her that she was not the one you had come to comfort.

"why don't you come in?" may turns back to you, taking the tray of brownies in your hands from you and leading you with a gentle hand on the back of your shoulder.

"oh- are you sure? i didn't mean to interrupt..."

"oh, not at all. come in, come in."

you're inside before you can resist, your feet crossing a boundary you could no longer back out from. your eyes meet peter's before the two of you look away.

you had wanted to see him, desperately, ever since you heard what had happened. now that you were here, though, you felt as if you were keeping him - perhaps, by the look of the light bruising on peter's face, from something he shouldn't be doing.

"here," aunt may smiles, placing the tray she had accepted from you in peter's hands. "why don't you take your guest up to your room?"

peter feels himself blush, suddenly feeling like a child again with his aunt may trying to set him up with friends. he knew she had good intentions, wanting peter to have people his own age to hang around with, especially after he had lost his parents. most of those friends never really stuck, though.

now, peter had gone through another loss and you were here, standing at the bottom of the staircase. all he could do was pray you'd stick.

"yeah, sure," peter nods, voice quiet. of course it cracks. you really do have a gift of catching him at his worst.

peter leads you up the stairs and to the right, right into his room. it's an organized sort of messy, papers and books stacked up in different places, posters and pictures filling almost every inch of the walls. his bed sits too tidily, standing out against the cluttered corners - it looks almost unused.

peter places the tray you'd brought on an unoccupied surface, tapping his fingers against the aluminum. he turns at your silence, your attention captivated by something on his desk.

your hands hold a framed photo of peter with his aunt and uncle. you're not sure what age he's at, but it's young. older than when you met him, but young.

"sorry," you say quietly as peter gently takes the photo from your hands. there's too much sorrow in his eyes as he gives it a look, more than you've ever seen a person hold.

"'s fine." peter places the photo back on the center of his desk, forcing his eyes to leave it and focus on anything else.

"about your uncle."

peter crosses over to his bed, taking a seat and a big breath of composure before attempting to speak again. "it's fine."

you join him, taking a careful seat next to him. you didn't think so, but was there really a polite way of saying that?

dark circles hand solemnly under peter's eyes, making his skin look dull. his pale skin is a perfect canvas for the colorful spot on his face, even harsher now in the direct light.

"how are you?" you ask softly.

peter doesn't answer. there's no way to explain, not as your hands pull down his hood and your fingers take peter's chin oh-so-gently, turning his face to examine him better.

every accidental brushing of that bruise is worth the care you take with it now.

"you should ice that."

"yeah, probably." peter's words are soft, his head more focused on the grip he has on his bedsheets.

"your aunt's gonna kill you."

this pulls a laugh out of peter, low and small. "oh, yeah."

you know peter's not one to fight. usually, he's the one getting beat up. but grief can pull people towards uncharacteristic things - which will pull to try and find out all of what peter has been up to.

"you haven't been sleeping." it's less of a question and more of an observation. your hands have dropped from peter's face to your lap and you wait patiently for confirmation.

"i've, uh... been trying to figure some things out."

"like the man who murdered your uncle."

peter is silent. maybe he's not as mysterious as he thought. perhaps there's not much to be explained to you.

peter's speechlessness makes you nervous, the feeling that you've crossed into somewhere you shouldn't be pulling apologies out of your mouth and peter into your arms.

you can't think of much else to sooth him other than rubbing small circles on his back, just like it used to sooth you years ago.

peter's perplexed by this sudden proximity, how far he's jumped in such a short amount of time. there's a new kind of honesty now, no need for lies that you'd manage to see through. he feels the weight of your perceptive gaze, catching on to things no one else has noticed. peter's not sure he hates the attention.

peter's out of your arms but he's close, a mutual pull forcing both of you to barely maintain a distance.

in fact, you think you lean in. you think peter does too.

steps from outside peter's door creates a space of at least two feet between the two of you, a knock making you cough out your surprise and regain your composure.

peter's aunt walks in with two cups, one carefully tucked in the nook of her arm.

"i brought you two... oh, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to interrupt."

the implication that there was something to interrupt warms your face, words to clear up any sort of misunderstanding failing to form in time - peter's aunt is gone before either of you can say anything.

peter's ears are red, color trailing down to adorn his cheeks. something tells you he's quite easy to fluster.

his hand is warm as you take it and squeeze, gently. "i should go," you say quietly.

peter responds with a soft sound of resistance that deepens the color on his face. he's even closer now, your hand oh so gently grasping his face, your thumb grazing over the skin near the corner of his parted lips.

"peter?"

"yeah?"

your forehead has found a spot against his, shallow breaths from peter tickling your nose.

they're slow, the seconds right before your lips meet peter's. your mind is hazy, barely able to retain how gentle peter is, how careful. it's all soft with peter - from the way he touches you to the way his eyes flutter open.

"don't make your aunt worry about you," you mumble, just loud enough for peter to hear, thumb narrowly missing the injury peter sports.

peter's smile only widens, accompanied now by a small laugh. "i don't think there's been a day in the last ten years she hasn't worried about me."

you roll your eyes, though it seems your concerns about leaving so hastily have disappeared now. "don't make me worry about you."

this seems to have no affect on peter's grin. he's lost some of his nerves now, arms wrapping around you loosely to keep you close. "wouldn't dream of it."

peter laughs as you make an escape, helping you off of his bed and back onto your feet. you're dangerously close to another kiss, your focused hooked solely on peter and his helpful hands still in yours.

it takes every ounce of will to let go and force your feet in the other direction. you're only thinking of the next time you'll see peter as you call out a goodbye, interrupted only by something pulling you back into peter's arms.

surprise morphs into confusion as you examine the white line connecting you and peter, the same one that's seemingly pulled you about seven feet.

you're looking at peter for an answer, eyebrows furrowed as you search his face for one. there's nothing but a nervous smile for you, so your eyes drop back to the line for clues.

though, it's not a line.

oh. oh, god.

masterlist

buy me a ko-fi!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm #v + peter #v writes

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biblio-smia · 20 hours

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introducing ko-fi!

hello!!

i have decided to open up a ko-fi!! this is a totally optional way to "tip" me if u would like <3

#this will not in any way affect the fics i upload on here!!#i will still be uploading as regularly as i can!!#v speaks

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biblio-smia · 5 days

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another poll (no one is surprised)

i have too many drafts... you choose!!

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #mike schmidt x reader #clapton davis x reader #ethan landry x reader #glenn rhee x reader #v asks #v speaks

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biblio-smia · 5 days

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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REC ahgejfkkfsa <3333333

Can you recommend any writers for Josh that are the same level good as your fanfictions? <3

Hey so I made a list of jhutch fanfic recommendations a while back!!

All the fics on there are great, 100% on the "same level" as my work (or higher) I LOVE MY MUTUALS!! <3

Since making that list, though, I've started following a lot more jhutch writers, so here's some more people I recommend + my favorite piece(es) of work by them!!

--------------------------------

@starryhutcherson

"No Hablo Español" - a Clapton Davis fic (18+)

♡

@solarissun

"We are never, ever getting back together" - a Mike Schmidt (& Clapton Davis?) fic (18+)

♡

@ask-jhutchverse

(Doesn't really write whole fanfics; askbox project. Very silly little blurbs about all of the Jhutch characters living together. My fav is probably this one about Mike)

♡

@biblio-smia

(Literally just gonna link their masterlist because they have written SO much for Mike Schmidt + some stuff for Clapton that I loveee. I cannot possibly pick one or two)

♡

@freak-accident419

"Soft Spot" - a Derek Danforth fluff fic <3

♡

@janitorhutcherson

"Stoner!Mike Headcannons" (Y'all I'm obsessed with the idea of Mike Schmidt smoking I WILL be writing a fic based on this one day) (18+)

♡

@amentomensmut

"first time for everything" - another stoner Mike Schmidt fic... (obsessed) (18+)

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(To the mutuals I did not @ here, it's probably cuz you're on my old fanfic rec list and I didn't want to bother you with another tag. Still love y'all!!)

#v speaks #lovelies <3

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biblio-smia · 15 days

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I’ve never requested before so I’m sorry if I don’t make sense at all lol I’m nervous

But can I make a request for a Peter Parker x Reader? In which they’re classmates at school and he’s always had the biggest crush on reader (I’m talking years, since grade school probably!), and for whatever reason only recently had a burst of courage to ask the reader out? Preferably female!reader, but gn is fine too :)

i am so so honored that this is your first request!! thank you so much for it, this is so cute <3

everything happens for a reason.

to break or to build character, to test a person, to gauge a reaction. there's something expected from each choice made; there's something to learn from everything that happens.

there's been something like pulling in peter's chest for years now, when he really thinks about it. he was hooked from the very first time he saw you, wanting nothing more than to run up and introduce himself. his shy demeanor was in full-swing even back then, at the ripe age of seven; it took being seated together for the year for him to even wave.

peter parker can count the amount of interactions between the two of you on two hands (maybe three, if he includes eye contact made from across classrooms. and if he had three hands.) despite your proximity. your constant proximity. somehow, always at peter's worst.

like, for example, when you had asked peter for a copy of some notes when he had gotten caught in the rain the day before, thoroughly soaking his backpack and smudging the ink on every paper inside.

or the time when your family had moved into one of the houses down the street and you had watched peter's skateboard catch on a stray rock, sending him flying into the pavement and igniting aunt may's hatred for his board.

peter was always so constantly aware of you - which classes you shared, where your seat for the year was, how close your locker was to his.

despite his unwavering acknowledgement of your presence, you were practically a stranger.

sure, the two of you have talked. but the conversation has never really gotten past a "huh?" or a "sorry, i don't" from peter.

every single time, he's spent the rest of his day imagining different words coming out of his mouth, wondering if there was a certain string that would make you something more than acquaintances.

it was a code he couldn't crack.

10 years, six half-conversations, and a few smiles. that's all he's managed to accomplish.

but there's something that draws peter to you. your smile, your laugh overheard in the halls, the glimpses he catches of you leaving in a friend's car when he takes the trash out.

he can't get you out of his mind, especially not when you seem to be around every corner.

peter craves what he knows he can never have. the churn of his stomach and the signals in his brain telling him to run whenever you're around have made sure of that. you've taught peter parker that between fight or flight, he chooses flight.

but when peter wakes up with too much strength and a buzz in his body, something has changed - not just the ability to take out the faucet of his sink with a swipe of his hand.

he doesn't walk with his hood up in the hallways anymore, doesn't hunch to make himself seem smaller. he stands tall, back straightened, the air of something strange that he's never felt before surrounding him. peter thinks it may be confidence.

he hasn't been dosed with enough to go up to your door with flowers and movie tickets but he's at least able to work up the nerve to catch you after class.

there's clear surprise on your face as your eyes flicker to your friends, waiting for you, to peter - he's never been one to strike up a conversation with you.

"hey," peter begins a little breathlessly.

"hi, pete," you start, surprising yourself with the nickname. "peter. hello, peter."

to your relief, peter laughs. it's soft. it suits him. "hi. uh, how are you?"

the question takes you by surprise. you're not sure what you were expecting, but anything peter could've said would've taken you by surprise. you start to wonder if there's supposed to be something wrong. an answer peter is expecting.

"i'm... good!" you're laughing through your words. turns out, peter's wide smile is contagious. "how are you?" you're well aware of the t-minus six minutes you have to get to your next class but your legs don't make any move to walk away from peter.

"yeah, i'm also... good." adrenaline is coursing through peter, just like when he did impossible tricks and jumps in an empty lot. "i was... i wanted to ask you something."

"you already did," you joke.

"oh- yeah, well i mean... other than that," peter laughs. "i was gonna ask... if you wanted to hang out. i mean, not now. you have class. i have class."

"yes, we have class," you laugh. "so some other time."

"some other time," peter repeats.

"here." you tear out a piece of paper from a stray notebook in your bag and a pen, scribbling down your phone number as best you could before handing it to peter. "it's about time you asked, peter."

the warning bell rings and you're off, leaving peter stuck in his spot with a dumb grin on his face.

peter gets to class late but it's not enough to diminish the feeling that he's on top of the world, your words ringing in his ears. it's about time. have you noticed how long he's been on the bench, wishing he could make a move? his mind buzzes, wondering shyly if you've been thinking about him for as long as he's thought about you.

peter's only really brought back down when he accidentally shatters the back of the basketball hoop after taunting flash. who's idea was it to make it out of glass, anyway?

he's dragged by the ear when uncle ben completely embarrasses him in front of you - but at least his punishment is over. well, it'll be over after the suspension ends.

but peter feels like the world has it out for him as he holds his dying uncle in his arms, gunshot wound leaking warm blood onto him. he's crashing now, sobs racking his body as uncle ben goes still.

everything falls apart when the police hand over the sketch of the man suspected to have killed uncle ben and peter realizes it's his fault.

everything happens for a reason.

peter has gained something. but what did he lose?

read part two here! | masterlist

buy me a ko-fi!

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman x reader #andrew garfield spiderman #the amazing spider man #tasm peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #v + peter #v writes

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biblio-smia · 16 days

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tumblr calls you my crush☺️☺️

<<<<<33333333

#v speaks

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biblio-smia · 16 days

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V I literally want to chew on your work I keep rereading your Clapton fics (all of them really but mostly them right now 😅) they’re soooooo good

chew toy chew toy!!! thank u so much for loving them <33

#trying my best to get more out!!!#thank you I love u <3 #v speaks

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biblio-smia · 1 month

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Can you do Mike's sfw alphabet?

mike schmidt i love u

a is for affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

boy oh boy. mike DEFINITELY does not know how to show affection at first. he needs nudging (and a lot of hints) but once he knows the ways in which you feel most loved, he always does his best to do those things for you. he definitely enjoying doing things to make your life easier & make you smile - grabbing your favorite food after work or making sure you come home to your favorite show ready to watch on the tv.

b is for best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

mike is definitely a little bit stubborn when it comes to making new friends. you'd have to be someone he sees consistently (ex. at work) and who he interacts with a lot. even then you'd definitely have to wear him down lol.

he's hesitant to let anyone in but eventually he'll allow himself to be a little bit more vulnerable. once you are friends, though, he really values spending time together even if it's just doing mundane things (grocery shopping, watching a show together, etc.). he's a rock - always willing to let you lean on him when you need it. the trouble lies when you try to do the same for him.

c is for cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

not at first (he is as stiff as a board). although he still struggles with showing a lot of physical affection, he really likes to sit on the couch and have some of you on his lap.

d is for domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

mike (obviously) knows how to clean and cook (not that well .). abby is his first priority - mike isn't thinking much about himself until his responsibility over abby is no longer as large. (but he is a sucker for domestic life).

e is for ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

mike would handle it with a lot of care and privacy to save his partner from any embarrassment. if he did break up with someone, it'd be that type of breakup where the two parties can still rely on each other in emergencies.

f is for fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

mike is not scared of commitment - he's completely confident about his commitment to you. he is yours, entirely - but he's scared about something (such as your feelings for him) changing. it'll take reassurance and time (a few years), but he will want to marry you if that's what you want, too.

g is for gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

mike is always very gentle physically - any time he touches you, it's feather-light and careful. emotionally, mike can be a little bit rough sometimes. he has his moments - occasionally, he will be closed off and far-away but he just needs a little bit of alone time here and there.

h is for hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

mike finds a lot of comfort in hugs (once he gets enough courage to start asking). eventually, you've learned his looks and know when he wants a hug without him having to say anything. his hugs are always warm. they're not rib-squeezing tight unless mike is upset but they're tight enough for you to know how much he appreciates them.

i is for i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

mike doesn't realize how in love with you until you say it first. it catches him a little off guard and he sees a supercut of every moment he was sure he loved you. he'll say it soon after you do (but don't try to say it within the first few months).

j is for jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

mike can get jealous but he tries not to act on it. though, his annoyance does always end up showing through. he frowns and the space between his eyebrows creases.

k is for kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

mike adores giving you soft kisses on your head. he loves when you kiss his face.

L is for little ones (how are they around children?)

small kids gravitate towards mike and he always panics around them (but the older brother instincts always kicks in).

m is for morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mike feels a compulsion to be productive in the mornings. eventually, you wear him down - his new favorite thing to do when he has extra time in the morning is spend it in bed with you.

n is for night (how are nights spent with them?)

mike enjoys quality time - he's willing to stay up late having dinner or watching a movie together, catching up and spending time with you doing anything.

o is for open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

conversations with mike would mostly be about shared interests. it'd take a while before you realize you actually don't know much about him. you can tell he doesn't like to share so you only slip in general questions every now and then - he reveals things slowly.

p is for patience (how easily angered are they?)

not very easily. he has a lot of patience when it comes to you - he only ever gets angry at outside situations/things he feels aren't right.

q is for quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

mike doesn't realize how much he's memorized about you subconsciously. he'll walk through the snack aisle or hear a song on the radio and recall how much you love it. a lot (not all) things stick but he does struggle with remembering important dates (he writes them down on multiple calendars to make sure he doesn't forget).

r is for remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

the first time you insinuated that you liked him. it was an innocent comment, vague in case mike didn't return your feelings, but it had caught him so off guard his face burned and he sputtered over his words. he still remembers the way you smiled at him.

s is for security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

mike is very protective over you. he's on guard in public - the security guard in him works overtime. he knows he can't always be with you so he advocates for you to learn self defense.

you protect mike from running into things and other injuries (he almost grabbed a hot pan with his bare hands once).

t is for try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

so much effort. especially with big events, mike really puts a lot of energy into trying to make the day as special as possible. he wants to make good memories out of every day he can.

u is for ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

not expressing his emotions. he feels like it's inconvenient sometimes, especially when he's upset, so he'll try to bottle it all up.

v is for vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

not very concerned - he does become more conscious after you two begin to go out. he's suddenly wondering when the last time he got a haircut was and whether his unshaven face makes him look unkempt or not.

w is for whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

after a few months, mike will feel strange if you're not around. he tries to remember how he ever operated without being without you. he has some sort of energy bar that he can feel going down when he's away from you for too long.

x is for xtra (a random headcannon for them)

mike really likes playing board games, especially with you and abby.

y is for yuck (what are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

someone who is irresponsible/unreliable.

z is for zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

when he's deeply asleep he looks like a maiden who has fallen to poison.

masterlist

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson x reader #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt fluff #v + mike #v writes

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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some fake dating with peter parker plzz<3

"Can I have your number?"

The horrifying question pulls you out of your work and into a waking nightmare as your eyes fall onto a boy, around your age, standing over your lonely library table, phone held out towards you expectantly.

You laugh, because it's your first instinct to, forced and too loud.

"Oh, I'm okay," you say nervously, hoping it's enough to wave him off.

The boy stands, stunned, wondering if you'd misheard. "I asked for your number," he repeats through his own forced laugh, inching closer to you, his phone only inches from your face.

Discomfort pricks at your skin as you bite your lip, unsure now of what to do. Your eyes stare directly at your now dim computer screen, your own reflection visible, your eyes not daring to look up at the stranger's.

As the screen of your laptop finally turns black you catch the glimpse of another stranger behind you before your head snaps to the shuffle of movement beside you. Another boy, this one tall and brunette, slides into the chair next to yours comfortably. Two pairs of eyes have fallen on him, yours particularly wide in surprise.

God, why you?

"Hey," he says with an easy smile, eyes focused solely on you. "Sorry I'm late." His hand reaches for yours, fingers linking together too naturally.

You recognize him now - you've seen him around campus a few times, definitely, but you're sure you've never spoken to each other before today.

"It's fine," you say softly, trying to wipe the shock off of your face to not flush all this new stranger's efforts down the drain.

"You could've just said you had a boyfriend," the boy standing over you scoffs, phone finally tucked away and arms crossed.

Words falter as he walks away - though your attention is brought back to your hand, still interlocked with a stranger's. Your intense gaze makes the boy next to you redden and suddenly retract his hand, nerves beginning to pick up now that he has no audience to act for.

"I'm so sorry," he begins immediately. "You looked really uncomfortable, I'm sorry if I made you more uncomfortable." His hands are raised in surrender while his knee bounces nervously, eyes glancing for a quick escape.

"That was pretty quick thinking," you offer with a small smile. "Thanks for getting rid of him."

The boy smiles back, just slightly. There's still guilt in his eyes as he looks over you and your makeshift work station, hands moving to grab his few personal items.

"I'm sorry, I totally interrupted your study session," he laughs awkwardly, shouldering the bag he'd dropped on the table so carelessly earlier.

"Well, technically..." The rest of your thought fades as you focus on the sudden flinging of a bag back onto the table.

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head, ready to ask the boy why he'd thrown his bag back down immediately before you notice how intensely he's looking at you.

"I don't think it's safe for me to go yet."

Something about his gaze tells you not to look behind you despite how badly you want to; you're sure it has something to do with a certain guy from earlier.

"I can take care of myself," you defend.

"I'm sure you can," he says in a tone so genuine it catches you off-guard. "I just can't, in good conscious, leave until he does."

Your lips part slightly at how much care a stranger holds for your well-being. It's a little strange, but not in the way that makes you shiver; strange in a way that makes your eyes wide and your cheeks warm.

"We could leave first," you suggest, closing the lid of your abandoned laptop. "I'm pretty much done anyway." It was a blatant lie, but there was no way for him to know that. Really, your motivator was not wanting to hold up any more of his time; how indebted would you be?

"Are you sure?" He only moves to pick his things up when you nod, accepting the interlocking arm you offer with red cheeks. He walks with you out of the library, stopping a good distance away from the primary doors and hopefully, any onlookers.

"Thank you..."

"Peter," he all but laughs, finding too much humor in the fact that you don't even know his name. "Peter Parker."

"Thank you, Peter. That was very nice of you."

"I try," Peter grins easily at you, taking a few steps backward as he waves goodbye. "See you around?"

"Yeah!" You call, though it's not certain; you don't have his number (as ironic as that is). "I'll see you!"

As Peter's back turns towards you and yours eventually turns towards him, you can't help the tingling of your fingers where they had been interlocked with his.

Nothing is certain. As far as you know, you may not see him for another couple of weeks.

Your next meeting will just have to be written in the stars.

masterlist

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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Hey can we get one where Clapton has a crush on you and does anything and everything to be close to you????

oh how i love loser men

clapton cuts through the cafeteria, throwing himself into the seat opposite sander sanderson. "dude, switch with me."

"what?" sander is caught off-guard and still mid-chew.

"physics, dude! come on, you have to switch with me!"

sander stares, eyes rolling practically to the back of his head as he catches up to what clapton is talking about. "as if you have the balls to make a move."

it's clapton's turn to roll his eyes. "you'll get to sit with riley for the rest of the semester!"

sander takes a long time to consider this; agonizingly long, at least for clapton. finally, after sander has finished another bite of his disgusting tuna salad sandwich, he sighs.

"fine. but don't think you don't owe me, davis."

the next day, clapton slides smoothly into his new, fought-for seat next to you.

you do a small double-take, sure the boy sitting next to you today isn't the same one from last time - though you two didn't talk much (save for a brief introduction and an awkward handshake). it was easier to believe your mind was playing tricks on you.

"sander has a thing for riley. so i let him switch with me." the boy, definitely new, tells you with a nonchalant shrug. there's vague recognition on your face as you look at him, eyebrows pulled slightly together - you remember he had a funny name.

"clapton davis," he fills in for you. "your new physics partner."

he doesn't hold out a stiff hand like sander did, but he manages to pull a smile and a little introduction out of you. the bell rings and mr. kendall is prompt, jumping into today's lesson so quickly you rush to pull out your notebook.

clapton smiles to himself, table in front of him empty, not a pencil in sight for him. he's too busy stealing glances at you to do any note-taking.

it only takes a few days before clapton decides it's time to make a game plan. the charm he usually prides himself disappears around you, his mind always going blank. he has to think about his words carefully before he says them, three times each.

that won't do. he reminds himself of what he's always done. keep calm and have a casual conversation.

"no way, i have that exact same pen!" clapton exclaims one day before class.

you look down in front of you, recalling what pen you had brought to class that day - it's a bic pen, the most generic one out there. this pulls a laugh out of you, as stupid as it is.

"you know, clapton, in the two weeks we've been sitting next to each other, i've never once seen you take out a pen."

"you've been keeping track?" clapton says with an easy smile, his heart stammering wildly in his chest. he's closed the distance, arm on the table supporting his head as he stares, attention dedicated solely to you.

you roll your eyes but there's a smile on your face. "you can always look over them, if you want," you offer, directing clapton's attention to the open notebook in front of you. "not to brag, but i'm a pretty good note-taker."

"i'd like that," clapton admits, surprising himself with how much he means it.

"okay," you nod, trying not to grin.

"would you wanna have lunch in the library with me?" clapton asks, eager to set a time and date to... look over your notes?

"sure," you manage to say just before the bell rings.

clapton doesn't get another opportunity to talk to you for the entire class period; it's quiz day.

he finishes his quiz in seven minutes flat, bubbling in C for all the questions before putting his head down. the quiet cocoon clapton has built with his arms at least gives him at least another 45 minutes or so to sit and reflect.

a part of clapton is pissed with himself for asking you to study with him out of all things. usually, the courage to ask someone on a date would never suddenly flee him like it does with you and it's beginning to throw clapton in for a loop. though, on the other hand, at least he made it work with the opportunity that had presented itself... right?

and now, of all things, clapton is beginning to feel insecure about the grades he hasn't kept up with since about middle school. he wonders if you'd paid attention to how quickly he turned in that quiz. did you only offer to help him because you thought he was stupid?

clapton's beginning to lose his head (and run out of air), so he picks his head up and places it on top of his arms instead. he glances at you, just now going to turn in your quiz, and he sighs.

in an hour and a half, the two of you will meet for lunch and clapton would look over your notes. he can already see himself faltering; there's no way he'll be able to impress you in this situation.

as you turn to head back to your seat, clapton averts his eyes. he's set himself up for complete failure.

and, as a part of him wonders why exactly he cares, clapton drops his head again as he realizes.

he totally has a big fat crush on you.

masterlist

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis #clapton davis x you #clapton davis fluff #detention x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #v + clapton #v writes

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biblio-smia · 2 months

Text

the last thing i need — three

warnings: twd content warnings

pairings: glenn rhee x reader

[one.] [two.] [three.]

Glenn's absence weighed heavier on your shoulders than you'd anticipated. Occasionally, you'd look behind you and expect to find him there, eyes on you, only to find no one there. Every time you turned to look ended with a shake of your head and turning back to whatever was in front of you.

Perhaps the feeling was as outwardly obvious as it was strong, as Jacqui looked at you with pity in her warm brown eyes, inviting you to sit with the women.

They had taken a break from laundry to sit and chat, but you thought that picking up where they left off would keep your mind off of Glenn.

It didn't work very well.

You blamed one of Glenn's shirts that came up with stains that would never come out. Nevertheless, you tried, taking your time and being extra gentle with the piece of clothing. Even while he was away, Glenn got special treatment from you — and you hated it.

The mission the men departed on should've been calling your name. It did at first, at least for a little while, enticing you with an opportunity to escape the camp you found yourself on.

The desire to go vanished once Glenn revealed he would be going, too.

The brief conversation you had with Glenn weighed on your chest, a feeling too thick to swallow stuck in your throat.

You acted hastily then, overcome with an emotion you didn’t want to admit. Now it was just you and your thoughts, trying to come up with an alternate, much more reasonable explanation.

You told yourself you didn't try to join in on the mission because it'd be harder to separate from the group in the city filled with walkers. There was space to move here, space to slip off quietly if you were more careful than last time.

It wasn't because of the was your lips pulsed after meeting Glenn's cheek. It wasn't because of the way your heart pounded at the thought of him back in the city you barely escaped.

Solitude was familiar. Although it was never true, not with all the walkers you encountered, it was all you'd known for a while. You tried to keep up with it even now at this camp bustling with life, isolating yourself from the women just a few feet away — but the company was tempting.

And stubborn.

Andrea turned to wave you over, patting a spot near her. The rest of the women followed her lead with warm smiles that shone on the darkest parts of you, filling you with an unwilling joy.

You abandoned Glenn's shirt and accepted the invitation, although you were quiet for the most part — save for the little laughs the girls pulled out of you.

The five of you watched as the water glistened in the sunlight, exchanging stories and laughter as they confessed what they missed most about the old word.

"Speaking of things we miss... what's up with you and Glenn?" Andrea inquired with a grin and a bump to your shoulder. The rest of the women were silent but you could tell the question was on their mind, too — they just weren't as straightforward or bold to ask it.

"What?" You asked, feeling a little embarrassed at the question. There was really no reason to, but you couldn't help but feel like the tiptoeing around your own emotions was useless if suspicion of anything between you and Glenn was this high. "No, there's nothing up with us," you shook your head.

"Really? Cause I could've sworn you went into his tent the first night you got here—" Andrea spoke, earning a few gasps and small laughs from the other women.

Oh. She meant that.

Now you were really embarrassed.

You didn't have time to form an answer as a man approached — Carol's husband. His expression was humorless as he pressed for details of your conversation, pushing your group closer and closer to discomfort and defense — namely, Andrea.

You didn't blame her for it. You didn't blame her for calling out Ed's laziness and his abuse towards Carol, the news making your eyes widen and your body move in front of Carol defensively. Your hands weren't enough to stop Ed in the commotion, not as you saw how tightly he was gripping on to Carol.

No, Ed didn't stop until he was beat to a pulp by Shane.

You could hear your heart pound and feel the anxious sweat on your palms as you and the rest of the women did your best to comfort Carol, trying to focus on helping her rather than the violence you'd just witnessed.

Ed deserved it, undoubtedly, but it did not make you any less weary of Shane. Something about the man was off-putting. Something about him made you uneasy but you couldn't figure out what. No one else seemed to pick up on anything strange, so you kept quiet and kept your distance.

But one look at Ed's face told you that maybe you'd have to look out for the living more than the dead.

A stupid part of you waited anxiously for Glenn's return, knowing his presence would ease you even if he was unaware of your caution. It was awful, this feeling — one you'd felt before, but never quite this intense. This feeling would make you stupid if you let it — part of the reason you'd wanted to abandon ship at first hint of it.

There was no time for things like romance anymore, no matter how badly you craved it. It was about survival now.

And yet, you couldn't help but remember how you felt when Glenn's hands were on you, his lips on your neck —

You shook your head. This was no time for that.

Night was beginning to creep up and Glenn still had not returned. That feeling in your throat almost made it impossible to breathe.

The night was eerie despite the soft chatter of voices and crickets, the light of a fire illuminating faces with golden warmth. You took a plate of food and sat off by yourself, taking the opportunity to gather your thoughts. All the plans you'd previously had were in shambles. No next move you thought of felt right. Your fingers tapped on your knee nervously, teeth chewing up your lip in thought.

Maybe, if you hadn’t been alone for so long, you wouldn’t have picked up on the low groans from behind you.

You stood and pulled your knife in one swift motion, plunging the blade into the walker’s head, feeling the blood splatter on you. Another walker replaced the fallen one immediately, a small hoard in pursuit, pushing you towards the others.

The others.

“Walkers!” You called, distancing yourself from the pack just enough to turn around.

But you and your familiarity with being alone were not used to fighting with others. It had been too long since you have had to fight for anyone. Your warning was too late and there was nothing you could do but watch as a walker bit Amy.

Self-preservation is what you know, your attention snapping back to the problem ahead of you just in time. You know these movements better than anything - push them back, stab the knife into their heads, just enough to hit the brain - but the walkers don't stop coming.

All you are aware of are the screams behind you, begging for your attention as your heart lurches with the urge to help families trying to find each other in the chaos that has suddenly taken over camp.

You try to focus, try to convince yourself that helping yourself is helping them, that each walker down is one less walker able to bite and infect.

Gunshots ring out from behind you, next to you, all around you as walkers take over.

“Get to the R.V! Go!” Someone shouts over the sound of the bullets.

The crowd was at least thinning out now. Your arm was tiring from the repetitive movements, but you didn’t dare stop.

Not until there was only one walker left in front of you.

Even in the dim light of the camp, you can recognize her. Your heart feels heavy in your chest and guilt clogs your throat.

What was left of your sister dragged her body towards you, mouth ready to bite.

Your arm fell limp by your side. Your breath caught in your throat. A bullet hit your sister (no, not your sister) and someone screamed. Maybe it was you.

You dropped with her, stationed on your knees as you watched your sister reach for you.

Most of her was missing and the last time you saw her flashed in your mind. She’d yelled at you not to look back at her but you couldn’t help it; Now you were left with the image of her caught in the mouths of walkers, all desperate for a bite.

She’d sacrificed herself for you to continue on. To live.

And here she was now, because you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot her back then.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your face was wet. Was it blood, sweat, or tears?

Glenn was sure he’d hit a walker with his bullet, but your scream made him doubt himself as he ran. Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl cleared the rest of the hoard, but Glenn’s only worry now was you.

His footsteps slowed as he spotted you, cradling a body that hadn’t been alive in a while. Though the body had stopped moving now - Glenn noticed the knife you plunged into the back of its head.

Glenn called your name softly, kneeling on the ground to join you. His hand came to your shoulder and he could see the tears drip off your face and make silent splatters on the zombie in your arms.

“We can bury her,” Glenn said quietly. “We do that for the ones we love.”

You nodded and your face found Glenn’s chest, your arms letting go of your sister, cold and dead, and clinging on to the warm body next to you. Alive.

You couldn’t be more grateful.

The aftermath was chaos. The bodies, littered everywhere, were unnerving. The children cried and Andrea sat over her sister’s corpse all night.

You knew exactly how she felt. You made sure she knew it, too. She didn’t speak a word as you cleaned as much blood from Amy’s body as you could. Her gaze never left her sister as you cleaned her own hands.

“There,” you said. You looked back at the rest of the group watching you, some desperate to put a bullet in Amy’s brain. “You take all the time you need. Don’t let them take that from you.”

You expected the lack of response as you stood, unwavering as you stared Daryl down, watching as he shook his head and went off to keep dragging the bodies.

You didn’t speak when you heard footsteps follow you to the edge of the woods. You knew who it was, and what he was doing. You wished you could hate him for it.

“Let me help,” Glenn offered from behind you as you looked at your sister’s body. It laid exactly as you’d left it before, but the daylight revealed the horrific state she died in.

You accepted Glenn’s help wordlessly, taking her shoulders while he grabbed her feet.

“Had to fight Dixon to bury our people. I mean, he just wanted to burn them!” Glenn shook his head, eyes glancing up to yours.

He was too good. That was it. That was what you hated so much.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, no, I did. For her. For Amy, too. And everyone else back there. We still have to have some humanity, right? Or else we’re just surviving, not... not living.”

Glenn’s words rang in your mind as the two of you carried the body through the thick Georgia heat, sweat dripping down every part of you.

Living. Not just surviving.

Your sister’s last words. Her last wish. For you to live.

You looked back up at Glenn as the two of you dropped your sister in the “Bury” pile, watching as he adjusted his cap and wiped some sweat off his brow.

Live. Not just survive.

Maybe Glenn could help you figure out what that meant.

Soft chatter surrounded you as you sat off to the side, knees pulled up to your chest. You sat away from the group, as you always did, keeping an eye on the people and another on the woods.

There was talk of going to the CDC. You weren't sure how well that was going to work out if the CDC looked like the rest of the world.

But there was something in the group as they spoke to each other, even after everything that had happened today. There was hope, small sparks of it glowing like the embers of a fire.

Maybe you'd let yourself have some of it, too.

"Hey," a voice spoke, pulling up a chair next to you.

"Hey." You glanced up at Glenn, watching him run a hand through his hair, his cap in his hand.

The sun glistened off his skin, making his hair shine as he turned his head to look at you. There was a trace of a smile but an even bigger hint of a question on his lips.

You knew what the question would be. But you still weren't quite sure of your answer.

"What happened in Atlanta?" You ask, hoping to buy yourself time and realizing that everything that had happened after Glenn's returned had prevented you from asking about it sooner.

"Atlanta." Glenn repeats, the place seeming so foreign to him now. "Well, we got the guns." He laughs, sounding too forced, eyes wandering over the faces that remain. You're quiet, feeling the guilt you share heavy in the air.

"But we ran into some guys."

Your eyebrows raise at this - you don't know strangers nowadays to be particularly friendly. Glenn was rare.

"And you just handed over guns?" You didn't mean to sound accusing, but you were trying to paint out what had happened.

"Well... kind of? I mean, we worked out a deal."

"What deal?"

Glenn hesitates, trying to work the story without having to mention the more embarrassing details.

"They were taking care of a whole bunch of elderly people. They were just... abandoned."

You seem to relax at this, at least slightly. "They could've just shot you and taken everything." You're only half-serious but Glenn doesn't quite catch that.

"They really wanted to. Especially Daryl, he had-"

Glenn cuts himself off but he's already piqued your curiosity as you lean forward in your seat, urging Glenn to continue.

"Well, it was a little bit of a situation," Glenn starts exasperatedly. "They had taken one of us, we took one of theirs... It just- It happened really fast!"

"They kidnapped you?"

How bad of a liar is he? Glenn stutters but his lack of a coherent response is enough to fill in the blanks for you.

Your chest hurts strangely, your fingers messing nervously with the hard surface of your nails. You've begun to avoid looking at Glenn just as he glances at you, a heavy silence that a part of you is desperate to fill, nervous it will make Glenn stand and place his chair elsewhere.

You had been saved from answering questions from others about Glenn earlier but nothing was able to halt the constant thoughts you had about him. You're not sure how much longer you can keep running from it - you're not sure how much good it'll do.

"So, the CDC?" You asked, hoping Glenn's answer would help guide you towards one of your own.

"Rick thinks it's our best shot."

"And you trust him?" There was no mockery or accusation in your voice — only genuine curiosity.

Glenn looked down at his cap, nodding a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

"You just met him," you noted quietly, knowing very well Glenn had met both you and Rick on the same day.

"You don't need to know someone for years to know you can trust them."

You looked up to see Glenn staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't just talking about Rick.

"That type of thinking could get you killed," you say quietly.

"Or it could save my life."

Live.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you thought about it. About what going with these people would mean.

It'd mean companions, for starters. No more nights fighting to stay awake, watching your own back. It'd mean splitting supplies. It'd mean strength in numbers.

You looked at Glenn again.

It could lead to something else, too.

"I'll go with you. To the CDC," you start softly, watching from the corner of your eye as Glenn's head snapped toward you, clearly in disbelief. "It sounds promising."

You barely knew Rick. You barely knew any of these people. But Glenn trusted Rick and you trusted Glenn. That's the only thing you were sure of now.

Glenn looked at you with a boyish, handsome grin and the corners of your lips raised to mirror his.

Your hand reached for Glenn's, interlacing your fingers with his. Your hands found his over and over — throughout the night, in the morning, as you packed into Dale's R.V. and towards the CDC. As you left Jim behind. As you almost died outside of the fortified building. As you finally made it inside.

The building was large and seemed safe enough — there was no way Dr. Jenner could have made it this far if it wasn't. But it wasn't until a large table full of food and drinks was set, laughter chiming in your ears, did you finally begin to relax.

A smile spread on your own face as Carl tries wine for this first time, his face morphing into one of disgust as the rest of you laughed. This mood, light and playful, was one you haven't experienced in who knows how long. There's a thick feeling of appreciation in your throat, hot and heavy in your chest. You're almost emotional, thinking of every sacrifice it took for you to be here, today, laughing and talking over dinner again.

But Shane, always solemn, can't seem to stand the uncharacteristic liveliness that has found the group tonight.

"So, when are you going to tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" The laughter is killed instantly, an uncomfortable silence falling on the once chattering table.

'We're celebrating, Shane," Rick starts, the tension between the former best friends particularly prominent. "Don't need to do this now."

Eyes flicker between the two with an occasional flicker to the doctor in the room, but downward gazes and quiet sips of wine offered neutrality from most.

"Woah, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move... Supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we found one man. Why?"

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane asks dryly, suspiciously.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides." Most shuffle uncomfortably, looking at anywhere but at Jenner. "That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave," Andrea notes, one of the only ones still invested in learning about Jenner. "Why?"

"I just kept working. Hoping... to do some good."

It's a good answer for most, no matter the somber tone. It's enough for you; you just hope that Shane's poking and prodding won't push the man that has seen too much too far. The last thing you want is to be kicked out now.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Shane avoids Glenn's stare and you cross your arms, decisively done for the night.

Jenner gives you a small tour of the facility, mainly of the rooms you'll be occupying. A piece of you wonders what else there is, but the majority of you aches for a peaceful night.

Jenner has disappeared into a different room and the group has stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Hot water?" Glenn glances to the rest of the group before his gaze lands on you, standing behind him.

"That's what the man said," T-Dog grins.

Glenn's smile is contagious, creeping up slowly despite you missing what Jenner said. But if Glenn is excited about it, it's got to be worth it.

The hot water on your skin completely is.

You try to savor each drop of water, relishing in the steam curling off the water. You can't remember the last time you had the luxury of hot water but you resign, letting everything roll off of you along with the water.

You scrub at your skin, mindlessly and too roughly, thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days. Everything about the last few months.

Your sister was dead. The guilt in your throat wasn't any easier to swallow.

Something had happened between Rick and Glenn on their trip back to Atlanta. Glenn stuck out his neck for Rick on that very first day that your paths had all crossed, so Rick risked his own for Glenn. At least there was someone else in the group that would do that for him.

Atlanta. Nothing in that overriden city could've prepared you for the overwhelming company you now found yourself traveling with. There was no ounce of you that imagined you might find someone to love again.

You shut the water off once you're sure you've scrubbed every crevice of yourself, your skin rubbed raw in a few places.

The towels you've been given are rough, thin, and terrible shields against the cold air that blasts through the facility but you don't mind. Nothing matters other than the feeling of the fresh clothes Jenner has managed to scrounge up, missing all the dirt and blood that's stained your clothes for months.

A part of you, as you settle into the first empty room you see, wonders how long it'll be until the clothes you're wearing now will be bloodstained again.

You've taken to cleaning off your knife, in the spirit of the fresh scent of soap sticking to your skin and the pristine condition of the garments on your body. You're careful not to stain anything with the shades of red and brown of your knife, barely lifting your head when you hear someone enter the room you've claimed.

"Sorry, didn't think anyone was in here..."

Glenn trails off when he spots your smile, your hand waving him over to the spot next to you. He takes it, body tense as he tries to keep his eyes off of you.

Glenn thought you were perfect before, but without the layer of grime on you, all he wants to do is stare.

Glenn thinks he's being sneaky until your eyes meet his, Glenn's already flushed face reddening even more.

He's too terrified to make a move, still wondering where it is he stands with you. You're not lovers as far as he's aware, though it's a losing battle on his side. Glenn thinks he'd do anything to get inside your head and see for himself what it was you thought about him. He wanted you to like him, desperately, his body aching for contact with yours. He wanted to kiss you until he memorized you and every one of your smiles.

But he'd take whatever it is you wanted to give him. He'd hold your hand whenever you reached for it, on your own terms, right up until you pulled away.

The sudden arrival of man-eating freaks had forced Glenn, for the most part, to mature; to learn how to fight, to look out for others in ways his shitty job as a delivery boy had not yet taught him. From one day to the next, he had outgrown the red uniform that always seemed to smell of food no matter how many times it was washed. Though no one cared to ask about the person Glenn was Before, he liked to think he was the same Glenn who had, with his own will, made it through high school and to college, on his own.

But, in some ways, Glenn still felt immature. All that time he had spent working and studying had left him with little free time for personal indulgences. He had never prioritized romance and now that it was here, in front of him, he found himself on his ass more often than on his feet.

The door opens again and Glenn’s head whips towards it like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his flushed face not doing him any favors. But it’s just Shane, so Glenn’s shoulders relax, eyes glancing over the man and landing on the bottle of bourbon in his hand.

Shane spares a sideways glance, eyes stuck on you as he takes a swig from the nearly empty bottle. Glenn’s eyes follow Shane’s and eventually fall on you, too; notably, the knife in your lap, practically shining from how much you’d been wiping it.

"You're a real whiz with that knife.” Shane props himself against the doorframe, probably to keep from stumbling. There’s a sudden smile on his face, too wide to put you at ease. “Good thing I stopped ya from leaving that first night, huh?"

Shane grins through his words as he takes another swig, eyes still stuck on you as Glenn stands. He’s turned towards you, eyes searching for any indication that Shane is just drunk, or out of his mind; but you’re stuck, eyebrows drawn and lips set in a straight line as you stare at Shane right back.

Glenn steps into Shane’s line of sight, effectively breaking the wordless confrontation. Shane’s eyes move to him now, trying to slip past Shane wordlessly. Shane shifts, blocking Glenn’s way. But before he can speak, Glenn has shoved his way into the hallway.

"I'm just looking out for you, man!" Shane calls behind him before his lips find the top of the bottle again.

You’re in front of Shane before you can help it, eyes trying to follow Glenn. But just as he did before, Shane has turned toward you, his large build blocking any easy ways out.

"Why didn't you just kill me that night, then? I know you wanted to."

"That's not true.” There’s a grin on Shane’s face that tells you he’s lying.

"Yeah."

The look of amusement on Shane’s face drops. He has learned from last time and fights back when you try to push past him. One of his hands keeps you pinned to the doorframe, pressing painfully on your shoulder.

“You’re just another mouth to feed,” Shane drawls, his breath reeking of alcohol. “You don’t deserve a guy like Glenn.”

There was more to it, you were sure. Glenn had told you that Shane was their leader and wasn’t fond of newcomers. Especially when one wanted his wife and kid back.

You could tell Shane felt challenged by Rick despite their history. Maybe Shane thought of you as a wildcard, neither loyal to him nor Rick. But if you would stick with Glenn, who would clearly follow Rick anywhere, weren’t you a threat?

You pushed Shane’s arm forcefully, the alcohol in his bottle swishing as he stumbles.

“You should’ve killed me,” you say, smiling suddenly. “You’re not getting another chance.”

Glenn moves down the hallway briskly, his feet taking him further and further away from you. There’s that feeling in your chest again, the same one you felt with Glenn back at the camp you had abandoned. It was fear, but it wasn’t the familiar kind that you’d spent months fighting along with the walkers. This one was thicker, heavier, putting a pressure on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Unfortunately, you had come to care about Glenn Rhee.

And as Glenn walks away, he feels as though he has, once again, found himself on his ass.

#glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee x you #glenn rhee fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #glenn rhee imagine #the walking dead x you #glenn rhee fluff #glenn rhee smut #v + glenn #v writes

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biblio-smia · 2 months

Note

Hello! I’ve never really asked anything before or done a request but I was wondering if you was continuing your Glenn series the last thing I need - I love it so much and your work in general 🫶

hi thank you so much!!!

i am definitely continuing that series, the next part has kind of been rotting in my drafts so it needs some polishing but that will definitely be up soon 🫶

#anon asks #v speaks

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biblio-smia · 2 months

Text

scrapes and bruises — five

masterlist | requests are open!

pairing: spiderman!ethan landry x gender neutral reader

summary: honesty is the best policy. there's nothing that can get in the way of you and ethan figuring out the spiderman thing together... right?

[one.] [two.] [three.] [four.] [five.]

the next morning, sunlight flooded ethan's apartment from the window he always kept open. temperatures were beginning to drop as autumn neared and a light breeze swirled through the cracked window.

ethan woke up first — pulled out of a sweet, deep sleep and slapped with the soreness and pain from the night before. it was much more manageable now — he could move around without feeling like a rhino was sitting on his ribs.

ethan stretched, not all the way, mindful of your body next to his. you'd rolled on your side in your sleep, or maybe you'd fallen asleep looking at him, but ethan turned his head to admire you: the way the sun shone against your back, lighting you up. the way your face was relaxed, no lines of worry anywhere to be seen; and ethan wished he could live a life where you'd only look at him like that.

ethan was careful not to wake you. he wasn't sure how long he spent, wanting to hold your hand or press his lips against your nose before slowly, your eyes opened. you squinted for a little and ethan watched as you remembered.

you sat up quickly, ethan's blankets falling off your body and settling into your lap. you pushed them further, exposing ethan's bare chest - exposing his ribs, now a yellowish color.

the air was thick with anticipation as ethan's eyes widened, waiting for your new evaluation.

"that's impossible," you mutter, hands gently pressing on the area around the injury. you weren't a doctor, but you knew there were more stages to a healing bruise than this. "how does it feel?"

"a lot better," ethan assured, carefully sitting up - he could do that much easier now. there was still a pain in his side, but it was much duller than it was last night. at least ethan could breathe now.

you took the opportunity to examine the rest of ethan's upper body, noticing nothing but faint stains were the dark bruises once were - only a few hours ago, to be exact.

"ethan, your bruises are basically gone," you say, surprise evident in your voice.

"what?" ethan craned his head to try and see, his eyebrows furrowing and a small frown appearing on his face, his fingers moving to press on the marks left on his body.

"barely hurts," ethan muttered, looking back up to you with curious eyes, watching as a smile slowly appeared on your face. in a flash, you were out of ethan's bed, rummaging his desk, returning with a notebook and a pencil.

you took a seat opposite to ethan, next to his outstretched legs, looking at him with a glint in your eye.

"okay," you began, starting on a blank page. "spiderman: what we know..." you spoke out loud while you wrote, glancing up at ethan as you jot down his speedy healing. "strength," ethan began immediately, crossing his arms over his knees.

"super strength," you grinned, watching ethan playfully roll his eyes.

"i can stick to things," ethan continued. "climb walls and things."

"wall crawler." "my vision got fixed." "you used to wear glasses?" you asked in disbelief, trying to imagine frames on ethan's face.

"i also get this... intuition, kind of," ethan said, his voice suddenly becoming serious, his voice capturing your attention fully. "like... i can tell when something bad's about to happen."

"sounds like a good thing," you offered with a smile, a hand coming up to rest on ethan's.

"it is! it's just... super weird," ethan laughed softly, scooting closer to peek over at your notes, watching as you wrote spider sense down.

"spider sense," ethan said, placing his head on your knee, looking at you from above the journal. "that's good."

you leaned down to press a kiss against the messy curls on ethan's forehead, watching a smile grow with your touch.

"not as good as that situation," you motioned to ethan's ribs, gently lifting his head off your legs as you got up to grab last night's supplies and then some.

"it's basically already healed!" ethan whined as you pressed a fresh ice pack to his rib, the unwelcome cold almost chilling him to the bone.

"just because you heal faster doesn't mean you're invincible, ethan," you chide gently, guiding ethan to lean against a few pillows. "this doesn't change anything. i'm just surprised you didn't notice sooner."

"well, i never really watched the progression of my injuries. i knew they'd go away eventually," ethan placed his hands on yours, settling for the warmth that came from them instead.

"yeah, yeah. you're so lucky you have me," a light laugh leaves your lips, attention and care devoted to tending to the large yellow spot on ethan's body.

"i am," ethan confirmed, his hand squeezing yours. "i really am."

your attention diverted for a few moments to look at ethan; to look at the way he was looking at you - big brown eyes swirling with emotions that brought a welcome warmth to your cheeks."thank you," ethan whispered, but there were more to his words, unsaid - a soft sincerity that hoped to apologize to you.

you cleared your throat and averted your eyes - you were not going to get emotional right now.

"softie," you joked, trying to lighten the mood once more.

"you love it," ethan scoffed, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him.

"you wish." you tried to look uninterested but couldn't help the stupid grin on your face as ethan pulled you in for a kiss.

when the two of you pulled apart, ethan kept his forehead pressed to yours, warm hands on your jaw, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked into your eyes.

"wanna go swinging?"

「 … 」

the promise you had made ethan agree to was a promise of passion, in the heat of the moment where you wanted something to ease your worries about ethan's nightly escapades. nevertheless; ethan kept it.

he came around to you every night. at first, the knock at your window made your heart drop to your stomach and made you pull out the pocket knife you kept for emergencies, the anxiety only vanishing once you saw the red suit sitting on your fire escape.

"you should warn me before you show up at my window," you laugh as you open it for ethan, letting him inside quickly before shutting it behind him. "or you could use my door. y'know, like a normal person."

"why would i use the door when i could just swing onto your building?" ethan asked with a smile in his voice as he pulled off his mask, leaning in to greet you properly with a kiss.

"hi," ethan grinned.

"hi," you responded, fingers gently running over his face.

"no black eyes tonight. good job," you laughed.

"well actually, i, uhh... took the night off tonight," ethan admitted shyly, arms reaching around you to pull you closer.

"hmm?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing a little in confusion - if ethan hadn't worked his super hero part-time tonight, why had he come by?

"well, you said to come by every night," ethan said softly, a bright red blush clear even in the dim night.

you laugh as realization strikes you. "oh my god, you are such a dork!"

but ethan makes good on his promise - he comes by every night, even when he decides to take a short break from spiderman. you've begun to crack the window open so he can slip in and ethan knocks gently every time he crawls through, purely out of courtesy. if you're doing work at your small desk, ethan will perch himself near you. if you're already in bed, he'll join you.

you're always curious about what ethan did that day and ethan always waters it down (particularly the parts where he gets beat up). what he can't hide from you, you do your best to clean up. and every night, you pull out that little journal, even when there's not much to write down.

ethan adores these nights with you, clinging onto every second he can until your eyes begin to get droopy. he wishes he could spend all day with you but he settles for listening to you tell him about your day. ethan is attentive, always, asking for insignificant details that only he would really care about.

it's a routine that holds up because the two of you make it work, its integrity depending entirely on you.

but nothing good lasts forever, does it?

phewwwww there hasnt been an update to this in a while 😵‍💫 but i do plan to finish this series in the future!!

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #scream x reader #scream #v + ethan #v writes

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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v's 800 follower celebration - masterlist

once again, thank you so much for 800+ followers!! i will definitely be doing an event like this again in the future, so don't worry too much if you missed out this time around!!

main masterlist

scream

"it wasn't your fault" + tara carpenter "i never thought i'd feel this kind of happiness" + tara carpenter comforting through a panic attack + sam carpenter

five nights at freddy's

"could you please come and get me?" + mike schmidt playing with the other's hair while they sleep + mike schmidt "what can i do to help?" + mike schmidt (post-fnaf) love confession in a hospital + mike schmidt "it was just a nightmare, it's okay" + mike schmidt only one bed trope + mike schmidt "i want to spend the day with you doing nothing" + mike schmidt "i'm falling in love with you" + mike schmidt "you can't scare me like that, okay?" + mike schmidt "kiss me harder" + mike schmidt sharing a kiss on their birthday + mike schmidt "please don't make me go, i want to stay" + mike schmidt kissing their rosy cheeks when it's cold out + mike schmidt

marvel

"let me go" + tasm! peter parker

detention

sharing a pillow and waking up centimetres apart + clapton davis kissing their knuckles while they're anxious + clapton davis "where's my goodnight kiss?" + clapton davis

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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“please don’t make me go, i want to stay.” with Mike Schmidt? <3

angst with fluff at the end,, enjoy!! | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!

it was supposed to be a nice night.

it had been - in the beginning. you'd finally caught mike with some free time that aligned with yours, abby was being babysat, neither of you had to go to work tomorrow. this had taken weeks to come together throughout scheduling differences and plain exhaustion.

but tonight, finally, the two of you had about 16 hours together, uninterrupted.

the night had begun to go sour halfway through dinner when you, unreasonably, had thought to steer the conversation between you and mike into a more serious route rather than lighthearted blabber. how silly of you!

all you had wanted to do was have a deeper conversation with mike than you've been able to have in weeks. the two of you have been talking, yes, but not to the extent that you should be. there was only so much you could fit in between rushed greetings and goodbyes, short telephone calls, and time barely spent seeing each other.

you thought you could use tonight as reassurance that the two of you were okay, just busy.

but your attempts had left both of you in silence. your plates were cleared but both of you were too afraid of what it would mean if either of you were to leave the table.

you take a sip out of your long-emptied cup just for something to do, the food inside your stomach beginning to sit heavily.

maybe tonight just wasn't your night. maybe it just wasn't your week. maybe you should've stayed quiet.

"maybe you should go."

the quietness of your voice attests to how you really hadn't meant to say that out loud but with the silence of the room weighing down on both of you, there was no way mike hadn't heard you.

and if he had been so worried about what getting up from the table might say, what would leaving you entirely mean?

mike's head may not be all in the right place but he's sure that going would be the worst thing right now.

while mike can't pick off everything he's done wrong in the past few weeks off the top of his head, he knows it's been different. he just hasn't realized how badly you had taken the brunt of it.

mike tries to realize now, as he crouches in front of you, a desperate look in his eyes.

"i'm sorry," he says immediately. "i'm sorry for everything."

"do you even know what you're apologizing for?" you ask softly.

"i'm sorry for being an ass. i'm sorry for not making time for us."

you shake your head. "that's not entirely your fault."

"but i could've done more. i will do more, i swear. just... please don't make me go. i want to stay." mike is looking up at you, eyes wide and desperate, and you sigh.

"we have to talk," you maintain.

"we'll talk," mike nods. "we'll do whatever we need to do."

you get up from the dinner table, picking up your dishes while mike follows you. he's quick to beat you to the sink and start washing the dishes like he always insists on doing, leaving you to look over at him from the side.

"i'm not mad at you," you tell mike as he rinses off the last plate.

he gives you a look.

"okay, i'm not that mad at you."

mike steps back from the sink, drying off his hands before he catches you in a light hold.

"i really am sorry."

"i know," you sigh. "i've just been so stressed."

"and i haven't even asked you about it. i should know these things." mike shakes his head, hand placed gently against the back of your head as it rests against his shoulder.

you pull back, just enough to look at mike - his nervous eyes still holding onto regret. "we'll talk about it," you tell him, pressing a kiss to mike's cheek. "we can fix it."

mike nods, holding you tight. he's not willing to let you go and, at least for right now, you're not letting him go, either.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #v + mike #v writes #v's 800 follower celebration

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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Can i request a part 2 of excuse me can i get a picture???????

here you go!! (thank you for reminding me i had it in my drafts)

#anon asks

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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every artist needs a muse

pairing: (tasm!) peter parker x gender neutral reader

part two of excuse me, could i get a picture?

masterlist | requests are open!

buy me a ko-fi!

Brown leaves scatter over stone and ground. Barren trees stand tall above where they've shed their adornments, but even they seem sad and droopy.

Peter sighs, lowers his camera. It's ironic how inspired fall makes him feel while the season that follows kills it immediately.

The least Peter can do is look for new faces to photograph. Then maybe today wouldn't have been a total waste.

With a few ounces of newfound encouragement, Peter lifts the camera to eye level again. He zooms in, letting the lens focus on one person at a time. Peter moves from figure to figure, none quite catching his eye. He blames the early hour, blames himself more; his desire to get a head start on the day has backfired tremendously.

Peter is about to lower his camera again when he catches something. His phone dings at that moment but the vaguely familiar side profile he's spotted has caught and reeled his attention; the person he's staring at through his camera eerily resembles the person he's spent a little too much time clicking through photos of.

Peter is sure it's you when your head rises from your phone. He stands immediately, camera dropping, the tug on his neck telling him he was smart enough to remember to hang it on himself first. He's tempted to yell your name when he realizes just how far he'd been looking at you from. Another idea strikes him - he reaches for his phone; sure enough, that notification had been from you.

"ppparker: turn around!!!!"

He's interrupting the conversation you two had been in the middle of, but Peter can apologize in a second. He watches from afar as you take your phone out and stop, turning around from where you stand.

Peter waves furiously, light string of laughter spilling from his lips. You're too far to hear, but you can see his grin and he can see you light up with a smile.

The two of you begin walking to each other, meeting each other in the middle with giddy grins. Your arms are crossed over your coat, your head tilting curiously.

"Are you following me, Peter Parker?"

Peter's heart thumps hearing you say his entire name. He knows it wasn't hard to figure out, considering it was half of his username, but he suspects it's something about you in this equation that's flustering him.

"You know what, I was just about to ask you that," Peter grins.

"You were going to ask me if Peter Parker is following you?" It's a terrible joke, but Peter laughs anyway. Your gaze trails down Peter's figure, land on the camera that once again hangs around his neck. "Get anything good?"

Peter follows your eyes, picking his camera up. In his rush, he'd forgotten to turn it off, didn't even cover the lens. "Nah, not really," he admits, watching as the small screen goes black.

"I don't believe that," you grin.

"Ah, I barely took anything," Peter says, getting his head out of the camera strap. "Nothing really caught my eye until I saw you."

You're not sure how Peter means it; he says it too smoothly, but so genuinely you can't help but take it as a compliment.

Peter's face warms as his words replay in his head as he stores his camera in the bag he'd brought along with him, embarrassment growing with your silence. But when he looks at you again, you're smiling, sending a new wave of confidence through him.

"I, uh, I'm not in a rush today," Peter begins, messing with the strap of his bag nervously. "Are you? Cause we could maybe get coffee? Or something?" Peter's eyes are wide with hope, heart hammering in his chest.

The pace of your heart quickens, a smile spreading slowly as he asks. Your body grows warm, your coat suddenly feeling too hot as you nod. "Sure."

Peter's shoulder relax as he nods. "Cool. Do you mind if we go uptown?"

You shake your head no, wondering where Peter will take you. "Whisk me away," you grin and Peter does. He sticks his arm out for you to grab and the two of you are off. The wind whips violently around you but you feel particularly warm against Peter's side.

Eight blocks go by quickly when you and Peter talk, conversations light and friendly as they were when you first met with, now with the occasional flirtatious comment, instagram chats equipping the both of you with the confidence to throw them in.

"Right here." Peter motions as the two of you approach a small cafe. He's polite, holding the door open for you to walk in first. The cafe is small and quite full; Peter puts a gentle hand on your back, keeping you in front of him as you wait in line. You admire the pastries in the display case, fawn over the menu. Peter looks at you with a smile as you hum over what to order, asking his opinion and his personal favorites.

Peter refuses to let you pay, something about making it up to you for leaving you in a rush last time.

The two of you find a table in the corner, not secluded but out of the way, just enough for the two of you to converse comfortably.

Well, rather than trying to have a conversation, you're much more occupied with trying to admire Peter in the sunlight that creeps in through the shop windows.

It's much more difficult than it sounds - you've currently settled for piecing together glances here and there or else you'd be caught staring.

But would that really be such a terrible thing?

It'd be payback for how long Peter had spent staring at you while taking photos, how warm the session had made you felt. You recall how you'd walked a little straighter afterwards, a little smile etched on your face that didn't want to disappear.

It was only fair for Peter to get that same treatment.

Peter falters a little when you pull out your phone (was he really being that boring?), his open-mouthed expression transforming into one of pure confusion when Peter is pretty sure you're taking photos of him. Unless you're just holding your phone at a really weird angle.

"Ha, ha," Peter laughs once it dawns on him. "Photographing the photographer. I get it. That's funny." He's smiling, but it's nervous. You're no photographer, but you can't help but think that this is what you resembled in the shots that had earned a strained smile from Peter.

"You're a terrible model."

Peter laughs, genuinely, and you're able to capture a few good ones, a small grin spreading on your face as you look at the photos captured, quickly, before they disappear.

"Let me see?" Peter cranes his head towards you curiously but you turn your phone over quickly.

"No way am I showing my rookie photos to a professional." You're smiling but only half-joking, not making any moves to flip your phone screen into Peter's line of sight.

Peter rolls his eyes light-heartedly. "Automatic disqualification."

You gasp. "No!"

"Yes," Peter grins with a shrug. "It's only fair."

You laugh lightly. Your cheeks are starting to hurt, but you know you won't feel the pain until you're alone.

"So," you grin as your orders are placed on the table in front of you, grateful for the distraction. "No one photographs the photographer?"

Peter mirrors your smile. "Nah," he shakes his head, glancing at you as he begins to dig in. "I prefer to be behind the camera."

"Well, I assumed that much," you laugh.

Peter chuckles, eyes squeezing shut in a way that makes your heart thump. "I mean, I don't hate it or anything, I just don't really feel a need to." Peter shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Well, that's just a crime against humanity."

Peter makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh.

"I'm serious!" You protest once you've finished chewing your food. "People already go crazy for you on your tiktok."

You say it so casually Peter's heart stops. Of course, he knows you've seen his tiktok. You started your message with that. Though something about your sudden attention to his social media presence makes him do mental cartwheels trying to remember if he's anything posted anything super embarrassing you could've seen.

"I really liked your caption, by the way," you say between sips of your drink. "What was it again? 'Me flirting for five minutes?'"

Peter groans as you laugh, hiding his face in his palms. His cheeks are warm with embarrassment and he's sure it's visible on the tips of his ears. "Okay, that was-"

"Very honest. I appreciate it." You give Peter an approving nod, mischievous smile stuck on your lips.

"I didn't think you'd see it," Peter admits, pulling his face out of his hands and unknowingly sending a surge of pride to your chest at his embarrassment.

"I'm glad I did," you admit honestly. "I mean, I really thought the entire thing had been in my head."

Peter snorts at that. "I promise I'm not that nice to every stranger I meet on the street."

"As expected from a New Yorker."

Peter's amusement is clear on his face, eyes bright and crinkling at the corners. He's only had the pleasure of sharing a few conversations with you, but each is better than the last. More of your personality shines through each one and Peter feels like he's on the edge of his seat, ready for whatever you let him find out next.

"You know I wouldn't have hunted you down so hard if I didn't like you, right, Peter?"

The sound of his name from your lips never fails to make him feel like those cartoon characters with hearts in their eyes and Peter is determined to do whatever it takes to create as many situations where you say it as he can.

Peter might've been able to come up with something incredibly smooth if he hadn't been so star-struck (though, let's face it, anything Peter would've come up with would have been incredibly lame), but the visible shock on his face was enough to save him this time around.

For such a smart guy, so many things just flew over his head.

"Well-" Peter stutters out, but you interrupt before he can make a complete fool out of himself.

"Is this a date, Peter?"

Now that makes Peter scoff.

"No way!" Your heart sinks as Peter laughs, trying not to let your face drop completely. "That would be cheating. If I were to ask you out, I'd ask you to go on a proper date, in advance." Peter laughs, as if you'd been silly to assume he'd be anything less than proper with you.

"So, are you going to ask me out?"

Peter stammers, lips gaping as he searches for an answer.

"You don't have to, I just wanted-"

"No!" Peter interrupts, hands waving desperately. "No, I do want to ask you out. Like, really want to," Peter assures.

"Oh-kay," your eyebrows raise unconsciously, voice dragging on expectantly. But Peter's phone dings in a vaguely recognizable way and he stiffens.

Peter stands suddenly, bumping the table and empty plates with his leg. "Where are you going now?"

You're taken aback slightly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I don't know, probably home-"

"Let me walk you to the station?"

You glance at Peter curiously but his arm is outstretched and his question is genuine. Although you've long since established that he likes you, there's still a few ounces of doubt inside of you - but you push them down in favor of Peter's hand, taking it and letting him lead you outside.

The way his phone dings continuously and the way he stood tell you he has to go but the way he walks with you suggests he doesn't want to. There's a nervous glint in Peter's eyes as he looks around once the two of you have arrived to a flight of stairs leading below ground. He holds your hands in his, lightly, so that you can slip out if you'd like to.

Though, you don't want to leave either.

"Are you busy Friday night?" Peter asks shyly, unable to look straight into your eyes.

"Depends," you grin teasingly.

"Could I convince you with some food that will completely change your life?"

"That's a very big promise."

"It's a guarantee," Peter maintains.

You tilt your head, pretending to consider it. "6 p.m.?"

"Whatever works for you," Peter nods quickly. "I'll pick you up?"

"I'll send you my address," you agree.

"Okay. Cool. Great." Peter laughs nervously and, before he can regret it, presses a quick kiss to the back of your hand just before he takes off.

You hang onto the railing for support as you all but stumble down the steps, a little dizzy from Peter's lips. Once you recompose yourself you turn towards the light of the sky shining above the street - but Peter is long gone, leaving you with a giddy anticipation for the feeling of his lips on yours.

tagging everyone who was interested in a pt 2!!

@lanadevotee @miwagila @strangereads @ghostlyfleur @theorgansarerotting

please let me know if anyone would like to be tagged for future parts!!

i'd also like to say thank you so so much for all the kind comments/reblogs on excuse me, could i get a picture? gajkngjksn reading through all of them makes me dizzy seriously you guys are so sweet!!

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker #v + peter #v writes

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