He Fluffy (cr. Dwellingsouls)

THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I HAVE EVER READ IN MY LIFE.

Thank you for making this, you're such a beautiful writer and I love your work.

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Scars

Cliff Booth x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: talks of knives and injures that lead to the scars

Author’s Note: Hi love! Thank you for being so kind and I hope that you enjoy this one! I thought it was pretty cute but that might be just me considering I did in fact write this lol. Enjoy!

Requested: by anon, hello! i really love all of your cliff booth x reader imagines! can i request one where cliff and the reader are cuddling or something and the reader gets curious about how he got his scars and/or what injuries he has gotten over the years (and it is just really fluffy)? Tysm

Summary: the request

Genre: flufff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Keep reading

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Shoot your shot babe

a very fond hobi clicking his jiminie’s pictures 🥺

Don’t tag shit as sand dunes again I don’t want to have to scroll through your entire timothee chamalet fanfiction again. This has nothing to do with sand dumb ass.

Respectfully, shut the fuck up 💛

Dustin: *sneaks into house at 2am*

Steve: *turns in swivel chair* care to tell me where you were?

Dustin: I was with... Uh... Eddie!

Eddie: *also turns in swivel chair*. Care to- *keeps spinning* Steve- I can't stop the chair-

Mads Mikkelsen

Nigel:

All I Need: Nigel and you are somehow face-to-face in the streets of Bucharest. Will you rekindle a love that had been forgotten long ago?

(Romance/Slight angst)

Nigel Banyai X Will Graham:

DOGSDOGS: Will is called to Bucharest for an investigation following the aftereffects of Hannibal's death. Nigel wants to ensure his and Darko's safety and remain outside the eye of the FBI.

In Progress!

(Angst/Fluff/Horror)

Hannibal:

Link to Hannibal fics here

Duncan Vizla:

Tourniquet: Duncan goes on a killing spree to avenge you and your capture and he's fucking ruthless in doing so.

(Romance/Slight angst not really)

Hey Panko Shrimps!

How are we doing today? I am currently obsessed with this picture of Joseph Quinn photoshopped onto a cockroach

I hope you're all having a lovely day.

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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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Hey Jade! Can I request anything with shy!reader and Steve please :) I really like your writing <3

steve being a loving dork at a BBQ CW reader hesitates to eat in front of people ♡ fem!shy!reader | 0.9k words

You're sitting on a fold out picnic bench in Steve's backyard. Robin sits next to you with a paper plate full of food. Your stomach rumbles and you look away from her and the BBQ foods she's working her way through, guilty. 

You're super hungry and everything looks good, but you can't make yourself go up to the buffet table. You'd rather die than go to the grill. Steve's parents are hosting and there's loads of people here you don't know, your age and otherwise. Too many people.

"Robin!" Nancy calls from the pool. "Come on!" 

Robin grins at her friend and clambers onto long legs, shucking her food behind you. You watch her go and then look at the wood between your spread knees. 

You feel out of place. 

Almost as soon as she's gone someone's sitting in her grave. You don't look up in case it's someone you don't know, and the back of a warm hand strokes your arm. 

"Hey," Steve says. "Everything okay?" 

You drag your eyes from the bench to his face. He's so pretty it burns, worse than the unrelenting summer sun above, and you can't look at him for long. 

"Yeah," you tell his collarbones. 

"Don't believe you even slightly." His hand strokes again, up the bare length of your arm to the tiny short sleeve of your thin t-shirt. "Listen," he murmurs, softer, soft enough that you meet his eyes. He smiles at you encouragingly. "Are you hungry?" 

"No," you say.

His eyebrows narrow almost imperceptibly, a tiny wrinkle between them that you want to smooth away. 

"Come up to the buffet with me anyway? I want corn on the cob. And a hot dog. And, like, a burger. Cheeseburger?" 

He pokes your thigh with both index fingers until you can't help but smile at him.  

You follow him up to the buffet and you're unsurprised when he shoves a paper plate into your hands. This is fine. This is what you wanted. Still, it feels weird. Awkward, even, to plate food up for yourself. How much are you allowed to take? Is it rude to take lots of one thing?

Steve watches your hesitation out of the corner of his eye. 

"You like these, right?" he asks, pointing to a glass dishware with a pair of tongs in his hand. 

"Yeah," you say weakly. 

Steve starts plating you up. He points to a plate, raises his eyebrows and waits for you to nod. He sees the light in your eyes when you come across your favourite dessert and picks up a new plate to give you a very generous serving, giggling boyishly when you protest. 

Back under the safety of the umbrella you nibble at things happily whilst Steve demolishes a cheeseburger. 

He chases his mouthful with a huge swig of coke. "Feel better?" he asks.

"Sorry," you say, and wince. 

Steve wipes his hand dry on one of the napkins between you and reaches over to squeeze your thigh, the other still dedicated to his coveted cheeseburger. His fingertips feel hotter than his palm. They knead the soft dough of your inner thigh kindly. 

"Eat your food, babe." 

You eat until you're full and wipe your face with your napkin. Steve has turned so his back is to the table, sipping his coke and watching over the kids in the pool with a distinct yet reluctant maternal gaze. 

"Do you wanna swim?" he asks, lolling his head to you lazily. It's more than charming. 

"You can't swim after you eat. It's an unspoken rule." 

"I'll keep an eye on you. I'm, like, a certified lifeguard, you know?" 

You glance at the pool. Everyone is having fun, but…

"I'm okay by here," you say. 

Steve holds his hand out palm up and wriggles his fingers until you take it. When you do he clasps it with the other hand and holds them to his stomach. 

"That's fine. Whatever you wanna do." 

"Steve… if you wanna go swim you don't have to stay with me. You shouldn't," you say softly. 

"I want to sit with you." He rubs a hand down your arm absentmindedly. "If you want me to do things with you-" his eyes dart to the buffet, "you only have to ask." 

You feel an embarrassed heat wash over you. 

"I actually really like doing things with you. That's, like, my favourite thing," he continues, tone lightening.

"Stop flirting with me," you deflect. 

His laugh is barking. Loud and rough, he smiles and looks down at your lap and then back to your face, chuckling. "Can't help it." 

Suddenly, his face goes strange. Concerned. You feel your hackles rise, especially when he pulls one of his hands away from yours, a clear trepidation lining his features. 

"What?" you ask worriedly. 

Steve brings his fingertips to his mouth and licks it quickly. "Tsssss," he says, pressing it to your shoulder. "Oh, baby, you're hot." 

His feigned concern is so genuinely believable that it takes you a good ten seconds to realise he's still flirting with you. You choke on air, flustered beyond words. 

His winning smile is so handsome you can't find it in yourself to be mad. 

"Cool down in the pool with me?" you ask him eventually, a poorly constrained smile playing across your lips. 

He beams and almost leaps across the bench to kiss your cheek. 

Cloud 9

TASM X Reader

Danger happens to find you on a night out, how will you manage to save yourself? Or will an unexpected encounter save you?

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual violence, violence⚠️

"Hey you wacko," you said, hopping up beside your best friend on the cold metal bleachers of the school. The coolness of your seat was a nice contrast against the sunny 75° weather of New York City. It has been nice all week, transitioning from spring to summer and the harsh snow finally ending. You were thankful you didn't have to wear that bulky jacket anymore, and instead you found yourself wearing a light sweater and black ripped jeans. To top it off, you had your favorite pair of converse.

"Hey," he said, scooting closer to where you were seated and turning his computer to your direction, "What do you think of this interface?"

Looking at what Peter had coded on his laptop, you responded, "Your interface is fine, but you forgot to turn the Option Explicit on at the top." You smiled, knowing that you were right since you both took the same programming class.

"Ahhhh thanks! That's probably why it popped up with so many errors," he said, ruffling his floppy brown hair and pushing up his glasses, "God, I hate working with Visual Basic."

"Same here." You sighed, turning your direction to the sky above you instead of looking at the ongoing football game. It was a pretty orange color since it was after school hours. You usually didn't leave your house this late, but Peter had insisted you meet up with him at this particular football game on a Friday nonetheless. Peter also hated sports. So what was the deal?

You turned to say something to him but your breath instantly caught in your throat. He was staring intently at his computer, his glasses falling off his face and his hair a mess. He was chewing on his tongue and he looked extremely nerdy but extremely cute.

It surprised you, thinking this way of your best friend all of a sudden.

I mean, it's not like you haven't before.

There was that time in gym class where he'd lifted his hoodie off and you caught a glimpse of his toned abdomen. And that time when you had both traveled to Chicago for the Academic Decathlon trip and he had shared a room with you. Or that time-

"Whatcha thinking about?" He asked, now focused solely on you and your response. He had a knowing smile on his face and it was one that you often found yourself fancying. His eyes got all squinty as he knew what you were probably thinking. He thought the same about you sometimes, he just didn't know how to initiate the right words. He thought you would've picked it up by now that you were being flirted with, but I guess school smarts aren't the equivalent of emotional intelligence, as you were still clueless to his intentions.

"Your doofus looking project." You said, hoping to deflect the conversation back to his homework.

"You're unnecessarily mean." He smiled

"Or I'm just right as always." You smiled back.

Just then, you heard a fast wooshing noise, the sound of something being projectile thrown at you. Before it had time to make contact with your jaw, Peter flung himself in front of you, catching the stray football with one hand.

"Holy shit," you said, "nice catch."

Except Peter didn't look ecstatic over his skills. He looked genuinely terrified. Of what, you didn't know.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice fluctuating from his timidness over catching the ball. He threw it towards the goal post, and you watched as the ball collided with the metal and dented it.

"Peter?! What the hell? How did you dent that?" You asked, absolutely astonished with what just happened before your eyes. Your mouth open and your hair flying away from your face, Peter knew he had to go before he messed something else up- and potentially risked exposing his identity.

"Sorry, I have to go." He said, hurriedly stuffing his computer with his unfinished project into his backpack and grabbing his other miscellaneous papers that had flown out of his folders. He nodded towards you and practically ran to get off the bleachers.

"Peter! Wait!" You said, trying to grab your stuff as well. "Why did you want to meet up?!"

Your question went unanswered as you looked over the side of the bleachers where your best friend had just been except now there was no one there. It was as if he had disappeared without a trace when you had directed your attention towards your bag.

"What the hell was that?" You wondered.

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Peter was scrambling. He had finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt but of course, his stupid new power messed things up. He couldn't let you know he was Spiderman, that would ruin everything and potentially put you in danger. What if you didn't like what he was? What if an enemy knew you were his weak spot and went after you? What if-

He ran into his front door.

"Ow." He said, rubbing his forehead. He shouldn't have gotten so lost in his thoughts. He felt bad about having to swing out of the situation (literally) and leave you by yourself to watch the game. Today didn't go at all how he'd planned it in his head.

He threw his backpack down by his nightstand and flipped down on the bed, not even bothering to say hello to his Aunt May. Things have been different now that Uncle Ben was dead and he didn't think he could listen to any more of her grieving. Sighing, he took off his jacket and turned on the computers at his desk, looking at his wallpaper of you and him from when you had a food fight.

You had surprised him by visiting him late at night when you guys were sophomores, your cute little cardigan on and your hair all curled up just to tell him you wanted to stream Donnie Darko on his tv since he had the best picture quality.

Deciding not to argue, he smiled and led you to the living room, where he watched you excitedly fix the tv in preparation for the movie night. Feeling as though he wasn't helping enough, he asked if you wanted a snack.

You said yes and he decided he was going to make you some popcorn but you had insisted on peanut butter and jelly.

You popped open the peanut butter and started to spread it on your choice of bread, the sun finally setting and casting an illuminesent orange on your figure. Peter had just walked into the kitchen after finalizing the movie plans and stopped in the doorframe. Your hair looked like something out of a magazine, your skin looking as shiny as honey and your aura lighting up the entire room. He felt himself glued to the spot, feeling an ache in his chest as he watched you do the simple task of making a sandwich. It felt as though time had stopped and he wondered why he ever settled on seeing you in a friendly way. The image before him was nothing short of a revelation as he finally came to term with his senses:

He was irrevocably in love with you.

You smiled and stared at him from where you made your spot in the yellow kitchen. "Want some?" You asked.

"I- yeah." He said, walking towards you.

"Perfect." You said, and while he was still in his daze, you put your finger in the peanut butter jar and rubbed it on his face. Giggling, you ran away towards the other end of the counter as you watched him reach up to his face and rub it off.

"Oh you're in for it now." He said, getting some of the snack on his hands and running after you. You yelped in excitement and ran away from him, first towards the left of the counter and then the right as he finally caught up to you and grabbed you from behind your waist. Both of you laughing, he rubs the peanut butter on your face and sits you down on the ground.

"You're such a sore loser," you said, punching him on the shoulder between fits of laughter.

If there was any denial about his previous thoughts of love, there wasn't any now. It was clear and he knew you belonged there in his arms, laughing in the warmth of the sun.

Peter recalled the fond memory and felt himself smiling, reaching up to the spot on his face that had been touched by you. That entire moment had led him to making a shitty playlist of love songs that would keep the memory alive and him listening to it for the entire week after. Since then, his head has been filled with you and only you. And some math and quantum theory, but mainly you.

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You had decided to go out with your friends tonight. They wanted to visit this café not too far away from the school, and they wanted to dress up, since it was a nicer place. The agenda was casual nice and you found yourself struggling to look through your closet and find something suitable. You did dress fancy, but you wanted to find something new to wear; something they hadn't seen you in yet. Going towards the back of your wardrobe, you saw a beat up looking box. Perfect! It was one of your old cardigans. Last time you wore it was....

....when you rubbed peanut butter on Peter's face. You cringed slightly at the memory. That day you wanted to confess your feelings for him, but you decided to break the awkward silence when you saw him walk into the kitchen. Truth is, when you saw him standing there in the doorway with the soft angelic glow of the sun hitting his perfectly dorky face, you felt something in your chest. That feeling was the same reason you hadn't accepted any requests for dating, even when one of the most popular boys in your school had asked you on a date. You could only think of one person in that bittersweet romantic way.

And that person just happened to be your best friend.

Sliding on your boots, you walked over to the mirror and looked at your reflection. You looked alright and once you did your hair you would look better.

Walking to your bathroom, you grabbed your curling iron and reevaluated your makeup choice. It was a soft yellow with bold eyeliner. It was just something fun you were trying out, also going so far as to add a couple gems from your scrapbooking stickers. Cool.

You picked up your purse off the floor and stepped out of your apartment.

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Slipping on his suit, Peter readied himself for his journey out in the city. He usually paroled the streets at night when he wasn't swamped with homework in case there was someone who needed his help. It wasn't often that it was more that a quick dispute between friends, or an old lady needing help with groceries, but it still filled him with pride knowing that he could have an impact in some way.

He quickly went downstairs now that Aunt May was asleep and grabbed some fuel food. He scarfed down a banana and went back upstairs, opening his bedroom window and leaving the small confines of his bedroom as he went to go find trouble-or rather- for trouble to find him.

He shot his webs towards the sky. Nothing felt quite like this. The wind hitting his frame and the free falling feeling of flying. He was up higher than the oblivious people beneath him, the cars zooming past his feet and the clouds rolling past his head. Night had just fallen and the moon shone on the glass window panes of the buildings he latched onto. He would push from one end of the building to the other, relying on his webs and his strength to travel through the dark. He felt free.

Stopping atop one of the shorter buildings, he looked at the streets below. Any signs of irregular activity would signal his presence and he would be able to help. Tonight, less people seemed to be wandering the sidewalks and he noticed there was less activity in this particular area. He was about to leave when-

He saw a familiar person.

Was that- was that you? Why were you out so late and what on earth compelled you to walk out at night by yourself? Did you have a death wish? Peter knew you were smarter than that.

"Yeah I should be there in a couple minutes." He heard you say into your phone from below. You seemed rushed and he knew that you had snuck out to see someone, giving him context as to why you were out at this hour. Were you going out on a date? He saw the way you were dressed and the makeup you were wearing. He felt his heart drop a little bit, but he knew that his sole focus should be on making sure you got there safely.

So, watching you from the rooftops, he followed your movements towards one of the newer café establishments that all the kids at school were talking about. He waited for you to walk inside, but you stopped for a second to check through your purse. That was all it took for someone to come up from behind you and put their hand over your mouth.

Feeling adrenaline course through his veins, he had a rage he never knew existed before. You were in trouble, and in desperate need of his help.

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You had decided to check your purse to see if you had put your wallet in it since you didn't feel the familiar weight of it in the back pocket of your jeans. You rummaged through the contents before you were fiercely grabbed from behind, a male figure putting one of their hands over your mouth and the other around your waist. Frozen in shock, he led you to the alley behind the café and threw you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

"Hey, pretty lady. Lucky I found you tonight, I need your help."

Your hands fumbled around for the pepper spray that you kept in your purse, wondering where it had fallen on the wet street.

"Looking for this?" He asked, holding up said object as he stared down at you, a horrid smile on his face. He looked to be in his forties, an ugly inconsistent mustache on his upper lip and a dingy looking clothes. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes and that was the moment you got a complete grasp on your situation: you were in immediate danger.

Jumping up and trying to run away from the man, two other men in rugged states appeared in front of you. You were cornered. There was no way of getting out of this one. Feeling more terrified than ever before, you started to feel tears springing at the corners of your eyes.

"I'm just gonna make this plain and simple." The man who had grabbed you said as he sauntered over to you. "Strip."

Fearing for your life, you froze again. What could you possibly do? You couldn't call your friends, your phone was still in your bag. You could fight, but you knew that you were no match for all three of them. You frantically looked for something- anything -to help you fight them off.

Finding an old wine bottle you grabbed it and hit it against the brick wall of the café. The end of it shattering into twenty pieces, you raised the bottle towards the men in front of you.

"Fucking try me."

Just then, there was a flash of red and the man in front of you was stuck to the café wall. It seemed as though he was pinned by spiderwebs?

The new figure in front of you was tall and slim. He was wearing what seemed to be an intricately designed spandex costume that was red and blue. A large black spider on the front and slanted eyes led you to the conclusion that this was the infamous Spiderman that every news station had been talking about for the past few months.

Just then, Spiderman flung out his arm and more of the web-like substance flowed from his wrist, capturing the men behind you. He then grabbed you and shot the substance upwards, latching onto the rooftop above you and swinging you both over the city.

You held tightly around his neck as you watched the image of the café and the men stuck to it fade in the distance, your eyes now looking at the entirety of New York beneath you. It was beautiful but terrifying as you were so high up.

"I should've killed them." You heard the mystery man mumble under his breath and he landed on the top of another building much farther and much higher than the last one. Your makeup had to be running at this point, you were sure you must've cried from the intensity of the situation.

"I- thank you for saving me back there." You whimpered out, now finally understanding what had just happened. You had gone into fight or flight mode and you weren't sure how well you would've fought down there if it wasn't for the help of the superhero.

Peter felt something in his chest as he watched you look at the sight below. Your makeup had started to run and your hair was out of place. You looked frazzled, but beautiful. Just then, the sun started to come up, signalling the end of the night and the end to this nightmare. The wind picked up slightly and your cardigan followed your hair in a dance against your skin. You held your arms close to your chest and finally met Peter's gaze.

"You-Your'e welcome." Was all he was able to reply with.

You looked away from him, and back to the street, looking down at the scenery below. "I know I just had a near-death experience and that's probably why I have the balls to ask but, why didn't you ask me out on the bleachers today?" You asked, turning to look at your savior once more with a slight smile.

"I was nervous." Peter said but then halted in his tracks. "Oh shit- I mean-"

"It's okay, I knew it was you." You said, walking to where your best friend stood. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled him in for a hug.

He melted into your touch, calm knowing that his secret was out and that you didn't think of him differently.

You then reached up to touch his face, grabbing the ends of his mask and staring at him with an 'Is this okay' expression before you lifted it off his head. Without his glasses and his usual dorky demeanor was Peter, whom you've known since the second grade. The same old clumsy looking Peter with that same old goofy grin and floppy hair. You instantly felt calm as you held each other staring into each other's eyes. This was where you belonged. You knew it that day at his house and you knew it now. It hadn't changed even though his identity did.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You said, stepping away.

Suddenly, a string of that sticky spider web stuff found it's way at your side, pulling you back to Peter.

"Let me make up for earlier." He smiled, kissing you.

It was like a million fireworks lit off in your chest at once. You were finally here. You made it. You weren't expecting your first kiss to be up this high with Spiderman, but you knew it was to be with Peter at some point. You hoped it would be.

The cars honking below and the sun coming up creating an orange and purple and yellow sky illuminated Peter and his face once the two of you pulled away from each other. He looked heavenly, soft angelic features staring down at you with an adoring smile. Your chest felt heavy and your cheeks felt hot and you had to clench your hand into a fist to make sure this was real. As if he heard your thoughts, he pulled you in for another kiss, letting go of your lips and resting his forehead against yours. You listened to the sound of each other's breathing and your heartbeat was going a mile a minute.

"This is real." He said, giving you that typical Peter Parker smile that you loved so much.

Dating Cliff Booth Would Include...

A/N: I will never get over how hot Brad Pitt is in this movie at 54. 

Imagine calling him pretty boy just to tease him.

He blushes most of the time when you say it which just encourages you to say it more. 

He loves you, he does, but he will definitely leave your bed in the middle of the night to go get Rick whenever Rick calls him needing something. 

Rick and you would probably end up friends though considering how much time you spend together. 

Plus he’s so good to Cliff (and to you too once he gets to know you) that how could you ever not like him?

Cliff will constantly joke that Brandy likes you more than him most of the time even though everyone knows that dog is practically his baby.

Whenever he has to go out of town with Rick for a job or keep an eye on Rick for a few nights you end up taking care of Brandy.

Not that you mind because ofc you fall in love with how sweet that dog is. 

Anytime you need anything done around your place Cliff will automatically volunteer to take care of it for you. 

You need your car’s oil changed? He’s got you covered. Got a stuck door lock? No problem. Been wanting to paint your bedroom? He’s glad to help. 

Cliff Booth’s love language is acts of service and you can’t change my mind on that. 

This man is like the human embodiment of top energy. Do with that what you will.

He is usually really gentle with you though (unless you ask him not to be). 

He is an amazing kisser. Like grabs your face in both hands and really kisses you type of thing. 1000/10 recommend. 

Don’t expect sweet nothings. Cliff is a man of few words and doesn’t usually voice his feelings but he still finds ways to let you know how he feels. 

He opens up more with you than most other people though.

You guys would have so many inside jokes between the two of you because of this. 

He likes to hold your hand while driving with the other. 

Cliff is the ultimate hype man! He is always there and ready to pump you up when you need it.

He always gives you calm supporting vibes as if he just knows when things are going to work out fine and it is honestly so helpful when you’re nervous about something. 

I picture lots of hang out type date nights where the two of you just kind of watch some TV, play with Brandy, and smoke weed together. 

He always swears he is never going to get married again and he 100% means that too. 

He is fine with living with you and he doesn’t want to be with anybody else but his first marriage was such a disaster that he has sworn off marriage all together. 

Part of him is really nervous that you’ll leave him after you hear the rumors about his ex-wife. 

And of course when word gets around that you’re dating Cliff people are practically lining up to “warn you” about him and tell you all about what happened to his ex-wife. 

You don’t believe it for a second though and adamantly defend him whenever anyone brings it up. 

He may or may not have realized he was in love with you the first time he heard you defending him to some random person who tried to say something bad about him. 

He’s not used to people really caring enough about him to do that and it meant a lot to him. 

Speaking of defending each other…

Cliff is incredibly protective over you. Like someone can look at you wrong and Cliff is ready to throw hands. 

If you work in Hollywood, especially as an actress, he is even more protective of you because he’s always afraid some sleazy producer or someone is going to try to mess with you or put you down. 

He secretly kind of loves it when you fawn over him after he does a few stunts, always worried that he’s going to get hurt.