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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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“Robin” John Blake - The Dark Knight Rises

Context: Basically it takes place a little while after the end of The Dark Knight Rises. If y’all don’t know, the character’s whole name is technically “Robin John Blake” and isn’t officially known as the real Robin in the movie, but it is left open ended so no one really knows for sure. Anyways this is while Batman is still believed to be dead from Bane’s atomic bomb, and since Batman has trusted John enough to give him the coordinates, John has made it to the Batcave where he has been contemplating and preparing to become his own hero with Bruce’s equipment and such. However, the reader is basically super worried about him, especially since the last superhero of Gotham “died.”

IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE MOVIE (or need a refresher):

Basically, if you have no idea what I’m talking about, John used to be a cop before he quit (and was revealed to have the first name “Robin”). Basically Bane (villain of the movie) had sectioned off and imprisoned Gotham with an atomic bomb threat. If anyone entered or exited the premises it would be immediately triggered by an anonymous ally of Bane, instantly killing those within a 6 mile radius. However, the bomb was expected to go off at a certain time due to its instability anyway. Because of this, John attempted to save as many lives as he could (ultimately a bus filled with kids from a boys’ orphanage), but was unable to do so with other officers denying him access across the bridge, who were, at the time, not given accurate orders and were unaware the bomb was expected to detonate regardless of the situation. Had the bomb not been stopped by Batman, he and anyone on the bridge would have been killed.

A/N: Hey! So honestly I wanted this to turn out a lot better. :( Problem was, there were so many pieces of dialogue I wanted to put in the story that I kinda got off track and literally forgot my original plan. Woops. Still turned out okay though. I mean, it’s a oneshot about Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character, what’s not to love?

- - -

“You know you can’t do this,” you call out, your voice echoing towards the figure standing in front of a wide expanse of computer screens and police scanners. “You’re not a cop anymore, John.”

You can’t hear it over the roar of the Batcave’s waterfalls, but you can see his hunched shoulders depress as he sighs. When he turns from the wall of gadgets you capture his gaze as you approach him.

Your shoes splash into the puddles of water on the ground as you walk towards him. “It isn’t your job to take the law into your own hands and you know it.”

Despite what you’re saying, he gives you a warm smile and a short laugh. “Try not to sound so thrilled to see me.”

You stop in front of him, so many thoughts and questions and concerns going through your head that you’re not sure what to start with first.

So you start with the simplest thing you can find on your long mental list of questions. “You just got promoted to detective, would it have killed you to stick with it?”

“Y/N, you know why I left.”

And he’s right - you do know why. And it makes you worried. Anxious. And you realize that however much you worried about him while he was on the squad won’t compare to how much you’re about to worry for him on his own.

And apparently your face shows it, because he feels the need to keep explaining, as if to remind you.

“I’m sorry, but you know why I have to do this,” he tells you. “Ever since that day on the bridge I just... I knew what had to change. I was there when my fellow officers refused to save an entire bus loaded with kids, all in the sake of following orders.” His eyes bored into yours, reflecting with all his intensity and passion and zeal. “And that day I swore to myself I would never be put in that same situation again. I would never place anything at a higher priority than saving the lives of others.”

Even if that means sacrificing your own? You immediately think, but quickly scold yourself for thinking so selfishly.

You gently shake your head at him. “You’re too good,” you say quietly. “Putting others before yourself comes too natural to you.”

Way too natural.

“It’s not hard - not when you have to protect the things you care about.”

You study his face: his eagerness for you to understand, his compassion to go into the world and save all the lives he can - just as he believes he‘s called to do. Your eyebrows furrow; your eyes water and it feels as if you’ve already lost him. “I don’t know if I can watch you do this, John.”

“Then watch someone else,” he tells you gently. “Watch Robin.” He lifts his hand, and in it he reveals a thick, leathery piece of fabric. “Someone once told me that if you’re working alone, wear a mask. Because the mask isn’t for you, it’s to protect the people you care about.”

Your eyes water even more; you’re terrified for him.

“Don’t do this for me. Please.”

He gives you a little smile, his deep, dark eyes moving to each of yours, back and forth. For a fleeting moment he doesn’t reply, but before he finally does, he gives you a little smile, knowing you’re terrified for him but still trying to get you to understand all the same.

“I never said who I was protecting,” he starts. His smile tugs at his lips a little more. “But I always knew you knew it was you.”

And then he takes a small step towards you. He lifts a hand to take your head in his palm, and he waits for you to give him that adoring and concerning look in your eyes before he kisses you - sweet and loving and so entirely sure that this is what you’ve both been waiting for all this time. Over three months, each day more dangerous than the next - so under pressure by Bane’s rule that neither of you could afford to have hope in being with one another.

Until now.

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Newt Scamander - Fanstastic Beasts

A/N: So I wrote this like three years ago and never posted it, so basically ITS BEEN ON MY PHONE FOR THREE YEARS. Oops. It’s still from when I wrote my x readers in first POV (Why? No idea, but we don’t talk about that). Anyways, it’s about the reader and Newt meeting for the first time. The ending is very loosely tied and is kinda cute. Nothing much going on, but just enough to be worth reading I guess. Anyways, enjoy!

- - -

"My niffler... erm...." the man looked down at the creature, who was sitting upright on the desk and holding its own stomach. Its face was an abnormal shade of green for an animal of its kind. The man looked back up. "He could just use a little check-up. Maybe a few remedies I could try, if you have them."

I gave him a strange look. "Is that so? And you said your name was...?"

"Newt. Newt Scamander, I mean."

For the first time since the man showed up at the office, I took in his appearance. Messy, swept oak brown hair, a few freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks, and hazel eyes with a look in them that any troublemaker would have. He had an appearance about him that seemed a bit untamed, but very intelligent and calculating. He wasn't anyone I'd ever met before, that's for sure.

"You do realize that we only support approved magical creatures here, correct?"

"Yes but..." I noticed his eyes dart to the side, using quick thinking skills he undoubtedly used very frequently. He looked up again. "You said we."

"I beg your pardon?"

"We. What about you? Would you help my niffler?"

"Sir, I-"

"A simple remedy or tip? Anything... please."

He was desperate. He was just trying to care for his pet. Isn't that the kind of problem a magical creatures veterinary center supposed to address? I sighed.

"The next patient was due an hour ago but never showed... I suppose I have time."

His eyes brightened. I glance at the creature that was now eyeing my watch with its black little eyes.

"But a niffler? It's not like they're approved by the Magical Veterinary Caretaking Units. Let alone do they ever come across them because they're so rare... But... I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a look." I glanced at the creature. "May I?"

The man nodded. I scooped up the niffler in my two hands, who was a bit surprised at the approach, but quickly warmed up to the idea of being so close to my wristwatch.

"The niffler: attracted to metals, treasure, and all things with luster. Incredibly skilled at squeezing into tight spaces and picking locks..."

The man nodded, as if in disbelief. "How did you-"

I smiled. "Top of my class. I've read all I can about every creature I can... However, that isn't much on the subject of these guys," I gestured to the animal. "No one knows much about them. Not many people have even laid eyes on one... I'm not too sure that even I can help you.”

Newt didn't respond. He just continued to watch nervously. I examined the blob of fur in my hands closer as it made an attempt to grab for my watch. Then, something caught my eye. It was a small line on the animal's skin where its fur was unable to grow. It was barely noticeable, as it was concealed behind one of its front legs. It seemed to be a small cut that had healed over, just barely bigger than a paper cut. The skin was tinted a slight blue, which was a dead giveaway.

"I don't supposed he's been exposed to any sort of billywig sting powder?"

Newt thought for a second. "Yes, in my briefcase, I'm afraid."

I nodded. "Quite alright. I see it a lot with other certain creatures. Some of them have a slight allergy to the substance. It's not fatal, fortunately. But exposure to it, especially while a cut heals on the animal, can produce slightly worse effects, such as sickness. That's what's happened here." I showed Newt the barely noticeable mark on his pet.

"Is there some sort of antidote?"

I shook my head. "All you have to do is let the allergy reaction run its course. He'll have symptoms similar to a human's flu but it shouldn't last long. Just keep that billywig powder away and he'll be fine." I smiled reassuringly and passed the niffler back to its owner. It turned around in my hand and made a last attempt at reaching my watch, but hung its head in failure as it was passed to Newt's hands. I laughed and looked at him.

"If you ever need any more help, you can always come back. Just as for Y/N."

He grinned. "Really?" I nodded. He patted his jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"For a check up that quick?" I laughed. He nodded seriously. I smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I'd say, oh, I don't know... lunch, maybe?"

#newt #newt scamander #scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt x reader #fantastic beasts oneshot #fantastic beasts #newt scamander imagine #romance #imagine #x reader #oneshot #love #harry potter #newt scamander oneshot

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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OMG y’all it was TODAY it was REAL

Benedict Cumberbatch ‘fights off muggers who attacked Deliveroo cyclist’

Benedict Cumberbatch, the Sherlock actor, has been hailed a hero after leaping to the defence of a Deliveroo cyclist to help fight off a gang of muggers.

The 41-year-old reportedly said that he “had to” intervene after jumping out of an Uber taxi near the his fictional character’s home in London’s Baker Street.

His actions meant the attackers fled, it was claimed, as he bravely fended the perpetrators off who allegedly smashed the cyclist over the head with a bottle.

According to witnesses, he dragged the four muggers off the victim, who was in his 20s, after screaming at them to leave him alone. One of the men had tried to steal the cyclist’s bike, but nothing was stolen.

Responding to reports of his heroics Cumberbatch, who is currently starring in the Sky drama Patrick Melrose, told The Sun newspaper: “I did it out of, well, I had to, you know…” (v)

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict #cumberbatch #superhero #wow #whataguy #love him #dr strange #doctor strange #doctor #strange #stephen #stephen strange #hero

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Decided to try my hand at making grainy, low quality gifs... How did I do?

(Fun fact, this is a quote directly from the scene - when I heard it I thought about trying this!)

#benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange #gifs #gif #benedict #cumberbatch #dontknowwhatimdoing #doctor #strange #stephen #stephen strange #superhero #cumbercookie

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Sherlock Holmes - BBC’s Sherlock

A/N: Just a short little scene, just fluff n stuff, I guess. Takes place in the beginning of series three, episode 1 of my recently new favorite TV show, Sherlock.

- - -

And there he is. Messy brown curls, piercing and calculating blue eyes, the familiar shape of his signature jacket. The light is shining through the curtains, lighting his sharp facial structures and making him look even more unrealistic than he already appears. But there he is.

Time is slow. Your mouth parts a little, letting out one last tiny breath before your throat hitches. Your hand lifts itself to hover over your mouth, where both your lips and hand quiver. Your eyes are stinging. You blink; the muscles in your mouth screw up and tense and the tears have already started their uncontrollable overflow down your cheeks.

“Sh- Sherlock...” The name that you’d refused to say for two years finally slips from your lips, not loud enough for him to hear, but just enough for your own ears to bring you a little more into reality.

He hurries forward to take you into his arms. Your hand is still covering your mouth against his chest and you can’t will yourself to wrap your other arm around him. You’re scared that at the slightest touch he’ll disappear into thin air.

He tugs you closer than you thought possible and you feel his cheek rest against your head, his curls against your ear.

You move your hand from your mouth. “Is this- are you-“ You want to ask if it’s real, but can’t finish because you sob into his shoulder, making you incapable of forming even the simplest of words.

“Yes,” he gently says, his breath brushing your ear. He trails a hand up and down your back.

You swallow. “You... you were dead, I...” You don’t know what else to say, but he knows that.

“I know,” he tells you, moving to tuck his face into your neck as deep as he can, taking in your scent, trying to let it fill up all his senses. He presses a slow kiss at the base of your neck and you swear you feel a set of his own tears fall onto your skin, bringing you a little more into reality.

Now you’re unfrozen. You lean back, just a little - just enough to lift your hands so you can wrap them around his shoulders. He lifts his head and so do you; it’s the first time in two years that your eyes meet this close together.

You only have time to catch a blurry glimpse of his lips before he closes the gap between you, taking your lips in his, something you’d both been craving to feel for so long. It’s everything that’s been missing from both of you, everything that you’ve been needing. His head tilts to the side and he kisses you deeper than he ever has, making your breath hitch and your heart stop. Your hands move to the sides of his head, holding him as close to you as you can, almost as if you’re trying to keep him from slipping away.

And then, just as you’re about to run out of breath, he pulls back just a little, eyes still closed. There’s just enough space to create a part between your lips, but he hovers as close as he can, his nose resting next to yours. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, but neither of you move. You’re both frozen, taking it all in, trading light whispers of breaths and holding each other as tight as you can.

And then, by some miraculous coincidence, you both open your eyes. You open them and all you can see are those brilliant blue eyes that seem to always read your mind, reach right to your heart.

You’re not sure if you should trust your voice, but you try anyway. “Please don’t go. Not again,” you barely whisper, searching each of his eyes individually.

Before he answers he then pulls you back into his arms, pressing his nose into your neck again, gently swaying you back and forth. You almost forget that you’re waiting for him to reply by the time he responds.

“Never.”

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #bbc's sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader #oneshot #sherlock holmes oneshot #romance #love #sherlock holmes imagine #imagine #drabble #preference #sherlock holmes drabble #benedict #benedict cumberbatch #cumberbatch

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Stephen Strange - Doctor Strange #2

A/N: O. MY. GOSH.

Probably the longest single oneshot I’ve ever freaking done. And probably the best one. No joke. It’s super mature and adult-like. It’s really passionate. (It’s not a smut, btw). But the dialogue is super in depth and I feel like it really fit Stephen Strange’s personality and how he would handle really intense emotions. There were so many different scenes I had to delete in this oneshot to really get out what I wanted to convey... there were about five huge deleted scenes that I had to get rid of that I was sad about, but hey, sometimes you have to erase some stuff to get to a good story. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy. I was really inspired to write this one, I hope it’s not too long, haha!

- - -

“And here we are, right on the corner of Bleecker Street, where we have witnessed yet another victory for our world’s newest superhero collaborator, Doctor Strange. The hero himself is nowhere to be seen, but as you can see, the streets have suffered an array of attacks and collateral damage. At this time, none have been found dead, however, first responders believe that at least 63 have been moderately or severely injured. More information will come, but for now-“

You stopped listening and whipped out your phone to text him.

“Where are you? The news is blowing up!”

“Sanctum. Come around the back, portal will open for you.”

- - -

“Stephen?” You called into the silent sanctum as the portal closed behind you.

“Up the stairs!” You heard him call back, his voice ringing through the halls. You jogged your way up the steps, the light from the massive window greeting you as you neared the top. You can just see the recovering chaos down on the streets below: broken buildings, crashed cars, flickering flames.

“Ouch, easy! Watch it!” you heard him muttering sharply. As you climbed the last step your eyes fell on his figure, standing to the side of the window, just enough light spilling on his outline to see him. Immediately you blushed.

His cloak was levitating just behind him, trying to tend to the wounds on his bare back, while he himself was shakily and hopelessly attempting to clean one of the many cuts on his chest.

Despite the intense burn on your cheeks, you shook your head. “Honestly, you two,” you speak up, stepping up to them and attracting the cloak’s attention.

He gives you a quick glance, but immediately shifts his focus back to his chest, still fumbling with his hands. “Five minutes, that’s a new record. You’re getting pretty fast.”

You cross your arms, a little annoyed. “Would’ve been here sooner if you’d told me you were going to be fighting aliens.”

“Why, so you could worry?”

You scoff, frustrated. “So I could help you, for God’s sake!”

His attention snaps back up to you and he freezes as your voice echoes through the sanctum. There’s a tense silence as you glance at his hands from where you’re standing; you can see they’re still trembling, hovering over his wounds as he looks at you with his eyes a little wider. Despite your frustration, your heart sinks. With the state of his hands, you know he’s been hurting himself more than helping himself.

By now your‘re more sympathetic than anything. You shake your head and step directly in front of him, gently removing his hands from his chest and taking them into your own. You study them for a moment, slowly tracing the scars from his past and examining the fresh ones. It makes your eyes sting.

You shake your head a little and look up at him, meeting his gaze that’s already focused on you.

“Just let me help you,” you say to him just above a whisper, your gaze shifting from one beautiful blue eye to the other.

He hesitates before he nods a little. “I... yeah. Yes. Sorry,” he says quietly.

You offer him a small smile. You stand on your tip toes and place a light kiss to his cheek, letting his hands fall by his sides. You lower yourself back on your feet and reach to an end table where he’s placed his medical kit. You dig out a pair of hemostats and a pack of stitches (they’re high quality, no doubt from his past as a neurosurgeon) and grab a gauze that’s already been soaked in alcohol and get to work.

There’s a slightly tense silence for the first few minutes. By the time you’re almost finished with the eleventh stitch he decides to speak up.

“Any casualties?”

“Not today,” you tell him with a sigh, tying off the last thread. The corner of your mouth turns up a little and you look at him. “But eventually you’ll be the death of me, so you can at least count on that one.”

He smiles. “I could never count on that,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You don’t say anything. You just look up at him and smile, happy to be there with him. You would never tell him, but you don’t know what you would do without him, either. He was special to you in ways you could never describe to him.

You continue on to the other wounds, cleaning and stitching as needed. For a while you two share a comfortable silence before...

“Ah!” Suddenly he shouts and cringes, making you jump.

“I’m sorry, what did I do?” You ask, jerking your hands away from him.

“Nothing,” he says, shooting a sharp glare over his shoulder at his cloak. You’d completely forgotten it was still there, tending to his back.

“How’s it look?” He asks, rotating around so you could view his back.

As he turns, your eyes widen. “Stephen,” you whisper under your breath. “The cut’s okay, but I mean... There’s so many- there’s...“

He inhales and exhales, his shoulders rising and falling. “I know, I... yeah.”

You shake your head for what feels like the tenth time in one day. The injuries from today were the least of the damage. You lift your hand, hesitating for a second before you touch his skin, where an array of scars and scratches and bruises are carved all the way down his back from his shoulders down to the bottom of his spine. You trace a particularly long one that stretches from his left shoulder blade to his right lower side.

You feel him shiver a little and you take your hand away and apologize. “I- sorry, it’s just...”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt,” he says as he turns back around, assuming you’re apologizing because you think you hurt him.

You study him, a little at a loss for words, your eyebrows a little furrowed, and your heart a little broken. You step towards him, close enough that you have to look up at him. Your eyes sting again. “You... Why do you- How do you just... How can you endure this much?”

“Because I have to.” He says it like he’s practiced it - like he’s been saying it over and over again in the mirror ever since his car accident.

“Because you have to protect the universe and time and whatever, yeah. But that’s not what I mean.“

“Well? What do you mean?”

“I... I mean... just... why? What drives you to go through such... such pain?”

There’s a fleeting moment of hesitation before he replies, as if his answer immediately comes to mind but he’s not sure if he wants to give it away. But then he draws in a breath. “I do it for this,” he starts a little slowly. He gives your expression a quick once-over before he continues. “You’re asking what makes me want to fight this hard? It’s for this, the people I care about. To make sure that everyone gets another day for what matters most to them. That the world gets a chance to go home to family and live another precious day of life.” He takes a quick pause to glance over your face, to study you, to think. Then he focuses on your eyes and continues. “And for that I get another day to save lives and make you mad at me for worrying you. And then you’re there for me when no one else is - when I come back to the sanctum all beaten and bruised and my hands are shaking and no one can help me because I’m living this life with all its secrets and risks - I get to just... just see you. And then you’re not so mad at me when everything’s over and I’m not so alone anymore. And then I’m inspired to fight all over again, just so I know I can at least have that one more day so you can inspire me all over again.”

Your mouth is open but nothing is coming out. You don’t know what should be coming out, so you close it. You share his intense focus and try to hang on to every word he’s saying, every thought he’s thinking. He lifts his hands, but you don’t move your gaze. He places them on each side of your head and your heart starts to race - so much that you think he might be able to hear it.

He draws in a breath. “And honestly? It’s because I love you. And maybe the reason I keep fighting is because every time I get a chance to tell you, I miss it. Because I’m never able to say those three scary words to you that I’m terrified you won’t say back, and then I not only have to give myself another day, another chance, but I also have to make sure that you have another day for me to tell you. Because I love you, so, so much and I simply cannot allow myself to even entertain the possibility that something might take you away from my life.”

“Stephen, I...” You’re tearing up. You smile and you can’t help it as it gets wider and wider across your face. “I don’t know what to say, I just...”

“You don’t have to say anything, just... can I...?”

He doesn’t have to finish it. “Yeah,” you say, barely loud enough to hear, your heart beating faster and faster. He sighs a little, barely detectable, almost like he’s been holding his breath, and then his lips take yours. He’s careful, almost shy, but there’s so much emotion left in him that it doesn’t matter. One of his arms grips your waist, pulling you as close as he can to his chest; no, he’s not shy anymore. He’s giving all of him to you. You feel everything and it’s so much to take in that your knees weaken and you have to hold fast to his arms. You practically melt together; you’re both so in touch that by the time he pulls away there’s nothing left to be said except-

“I love you, too.”

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Doctor Strange - Stephen Strange

“Y/N? Hello?”

No answer.

“A little help?”

You still couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“Y/N!”

You hear a faint snapping that brings you back to reality. You quickly blink away your attention to Wong.

“Yes?”

He rolls his eyes.

“What do you see in him anyway?”

“He’s... He’s interesting. Different.”

“He’s an arrogant moron.”

“He’s nice. And his heart’s in the right place, you can tell. There’s something about him.”

He shook his head. “Instead of gushing over him why don’t you talk to him?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head vigorously. “No. I can’t. No.”

His expression changed into an unusual look; his mouth turned up in a mischievous grin. “We’ll see.”

You gave him a suspicious look. “I’m going to take these before you get any ideas,” you say, taking the books from his hands.

As you entered the rows of bookshelves, occasionally getting a glimpse at him, you went back to your daydreaming. How couldn’t you? He was so intriguing, so... different. The first time he came in you took an immediate notice to him; you clearly remember...

- - -

“What do you want Strange?” Wong had asked.

“Books on astroprojection.”

“You’re not ready for that.”

“Try me, Beyoncé.”

You had quietly laughed behind Wong’s back, covering your mouth in an attempt to hide it. He had turned to you with a dry look and you shrugged innocently.

“It was funny.”

After Wong had turned back to the man, you quietly motioned in the direction the books were located, just in case he’d ever go looking. As Wong rejected him for the second time, the man thanked Wong anyway, gave you a wink, and turned to leave. As he disappeared, Wong had then turned around to you.

“Why’d you tell him where to look?”

“Wha- How’d you see me?”

“I didn’t. But you just admitted it. And you’re blushing from the wink he just gave you.”

- - -

As you placed away some of the books Wong had given you, you returned to the desk, only to find Mr. Strange there, too. As you passed unnoticed on your way to the desk to return a set of books that didn’t belong, Wong spoke.

“Dr. Strange, I don’t believe you’ve met Y/N, have you?”

At the sound of him mention your name to Dr. Strange, you immediately tensed, unfortunately tripping yourself and sending you face-first towards the floor. You shut your eyes, books flying, as you prepared yourself to hit the floor.

However, you stopped. A strong set of arms were holding you up a mere foot from the floor, where your books were scattered. Your heart was now beating even faster than when you’d fallen. You blushed furiously.

He pulled you back up, gently placing you on your feet.

His hand was on your arm, steadying you. “Alright?” He asked politely.

Unfortunately, you met his eyes, stopping your train of thought in its tracks. God, they’re beautiful...

You quickly realized he was waiting for an answer and you shook your head clear of your thoughts.

“Ah, yeah, um, sorry,” you apologize under his gaze, your face getting redder and redder by the second.

“No worries,” he replied, bending down to gather the books you’d completely forgotten about.

“Wha- oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say, about to sink to your knees to pick them up. However, he’d already gathered most of them already. He stood back up.

He gave you a kind smile. “Here you are.”

You gratefully took the books, meeting his eyes again. You took in a sharp breath, your stomach lurched, and your heart skipped. You were at a loss for words.

“I, Uh... You... Thanks- thank you,” you say, finally finding the words you wanted to say. “So, um, can I help you with anything? Wong’s better with books, he might-“

You gestured to Wong, only to notice he had completely disappeared, purposefully leaving the two of you alone.

“Oh... On second thought, never mind.”

The doctor chuckled. “That’s okay, I didn’t come here for the books,” he says with a little amusement.

“Oh, okay, no problem. The armory and resource center is that way, there’s different tools you can check out and-“

“I didn’t exactly come for the tools either,” he said with a sweet smile. “I came,” he started, taking your hand, “to ask you out.” He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “If that’s okay, of course.”

Your cheeks flamed bright red. You were at a complete loss for words. You opened your mouth a few times before you finally replied. “I- Doctor Strange, I... I would- Yes. I would like that,” you said finally.

“Perfect,” he said with a brilliant yet gentle smile. “And you can call me Stephen.”

#doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #marvel #avengers #romance #oneshot #imagine #x reader #love #benedict cumberbatch #benedict #cumberbatch #superhero

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Angus MacGyver - MacGyver (2)

A/N: Yeah, I know. My third MacGyver post within the past two days... Sue me. Not sure why, but this show and character is really fun and easy to write about and honestly I kinda wanna write more... Anyways, this oneshot isn’t that original. It basically has the same type of theme from my previous MacGyver oneshot, where Mac is a stranger but he helps out the reader and that’s how they meet. It’s super short (probably my shortest post ever), but enjoy! :)

- - -

“Why- won’t- you- work?!” I growl with each pound on my car.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, ma’am,” I hear a voice start. “But that car’s not gonna answer you.”

I whip around in embarrassment, immediately trying to put a polite face on.

He’s tall, slender, and has an amused smile that makes me forget that it’s my turn to talk.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was listening,” I say little timidly, not quite sure what to say. It didn’t help that the first thing I noticed about him was his obvious attractiveness. Wavy blond hair and brilliant blue eyes to match - a perfect combination that could probably make any girl speechless.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Uh, yeah, of course, go ahead,” I quickly reply without thinking.

He approaches and rests his hands on the car, leaning forward on it and quietly studying the contents inside the hood.

“It’s okay if you can’t fix it...” I tell him. “It’s had problems for a while and I should have already gotten it fixed, so it’s my fault.”

He turns his head and gives me a proud smile. ”Lucky for you, it’s getting fixed right now.”

He immediately goes to work on the car - fiddling, tugging, twisting, and connecting.

“So you’re a mechanic?”

“Ah, not exactly.”

“Engineer?”

“A little.”

A puzzled look crosses my face. “So what are you... exactly...?”

He lets out a short chuckle and gives me an amused smile over his shoulder. “A heck of a science nerd, I guess.”

A few quiet moments pass before he leans away from under the hood and dusts his hands. “Should be ready to start up, now.”

I nod and jump into the driver’s seat. The car starts immediately, better than it has in years.

“No way,” I whisper under my breath.

I shut off the car before I step out again, ready to thank the young man.

However, when I walk towards the hood, I realize there’s no longer anyone behind it. He’s nowhere to be seen, and there’s no sign that he had ever even shown up - all except for the little sticky note paper-clipped to the Bonnet prop rod.

Just in case you ever have any more car troubles... ;)

Underneath he had written his number, which I had absolutely no intentions of using it for car problems rather than starting a conversation with him.

#macgyver #angus macgyver #angus macgyver x reader #angus macgyver oneshot #angus macgyver imagine #angus #oneshot #imagine #x reader #romance #angus macgyver drabble #drabble #fluff

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Angus MacGyver - Imagine

Imagine Mac finally meets your boyfriend and tries to hide his jealousy. Afterwards he goes and talks to Jack about it.

“Mac this my new boyfriend, ______.”

#imagine #jack #angus macgyver #angus macgyver imagine #love #jealous #jealousy #macgyver #macgyver imagine #romance #lucas #till #lucas till

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Angus MacGyver - MacGyver

A/N: I kinda like this, I kinda don’t. It’s long and it takes a while to get to the point, but I thought it was also kinda interesting. I’ve been watching MacGyver for the first time recently and don’t know much about the character, but I couldn’t help it, I may have been a little too excited to write a oneshot for Mac... Can you blame me? Nope.

Summary: Basically Mac saves you after a guy pushes you to the ground and steals your purse. He doesn’t tell you his name so he leaves little paperclips that spell it out. On the last letter you finally meet him for the first time.

- - -

“You okay, ma’am?” He asked, extending his arm to me as I was now lying on the sidewalk. I grasped it tight and he pulled me up with a surprising amount of strength, lifting me more than I was lifting myself.

As I reached my feet I attempted to recompose myself and brush off my clothes, but I realized after a few moments that he was waiting for a reply, a concerned look on his face.

“Oh, I- Yes, um, I’m okay. Thank you. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t... you know,” I trail off, still disheveled and struggling to form proper sentences. My mind was still running a mile a minute.

“Do you want me to escort you home?”

“I, well-“

“Ah, never mind, it’s no big deal. Let’s go, I insist.

- - -

“This is me,” I say to him, stopping at the door of my apartment. “I’m sorry you had to walk all the way-“

“No, don’t apologize, please,” He says to me, shaking his head. He sticks his hands in his pockets. “I’m just doing the right thing.”

I give him an appreciative smile, but eventually my eyebrows furrow as I realize this guy just spent half an hour making sure a stranger got home safely. “Is there anything I can do? Do you want a drink or, what? I don’t know, a tip?”

He lets out a lighthearted laugh, the infectious kind that makes you want to laugh along with him. “I don’t need a tip,” he says. “I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“But I have to thank you somehow, don’t I?”

He gave me a kind smile and shook his head.

I let out a short laugh and shake my head as I turn to my door, digging my keys out of my pocket. “So you’re just out and about and when you see a man push a girl to the ground and take her purse, you decide to jump in and go all, you know... ninja? Even if this man has a gun? Sounds like something I would owe you for, doesn’t it?”

“If you really want to thank me, then take this.” I turn back around as he removes one of his hands from his pocket to reveal a paper clip, bent in a zig-zag shape. We meet eyes as he drops it in my outstretched hand. They have a mischievous yet endearing look in them, something that I’m sure has charmed more than a handful of girls in the past. Just as I realize I should probably break eye contact with him, his grin spreads a little more. “You’d be surprised what a paper clip can do.”

My eyebrows raise in a little confusion, but I smile anyway. “Well, just-a-guy, thank you,” I tell him, turning back to my door to push it open. I take one step inside, ready to bid him goodbye when I stop and realize- “Hey, I uh, don’t think I got your name,” I say, but quickly close my mouth when I turn around to realize he is nowhere to be seen.

- -

Needless to say, I kept the paperclip.

...And the other paperclip.

...And the other.

It had been almost a month since I’d been saved and walked home by paperclip-guy, which is the name I decided to give him when I realized he wouldn’t be leaving my mind anytime soon.

I had been seeing paperclips everywhere - the coffee shop, the grocery store, you name it. I couldn’t decide if they were following me or I had simply taken more notice in paperclips since that night, but I decided to take them home whenever I would discover a new one. I now had a small handful of them at home, all bent in different shapes: curved ones, straight ones, or both; they never came in their normal shape. They came once or twice a week, usually in a busy area where it would be hard to pinpoint a stranger.

I was almost certain that paperclip-guy was behind it.

I slid my credit card out of my wallet, prepared to pay my usual $3.78 for my overpriced frappucino.

“Uh, ma’am, your charge has already been anonymously paid,” the barista told me, catching me off guard. He ripped off a receipt and held it out to me. “Your drink will be ready shortly.”

I nodded. “Alright, thank you,” I told him, taking my receipt. As I moved to the end of the counter, I forced myself from doing an obvious 360 sweep of the whole café for any suspects, though deep down I suspected who it must be.

My drink was given to me, as promised. It was when I turned to grab a straw that I noticed the paper clip, tucked under the container. I looked left and right, a little paranoid but also a little curious. He was here; he had to be.

The little tiny wire was a little curved, a little straight. There was a curve at the top and two straight legs at the bottom, a symbol I recognized as an R.

He is here.

How did I know? This was the last paperclip - the last letter.

Finally I decided to do a sweep of the café, whether I made myself obvious or not.

He definitely wasn’t making finding him easy; it was the busiest part of the morning, right when everyone would grab their coffee before showing up for work. It didn’t help that today was Friday, either. Everyone had woken up a little earlier for a coffee to get them through one last day before the weekend. Every booth and high table was occupied, most of them adults or college students, some of them high school juniors and seniors who were making the most of their newly-acquired driver’s licenses. There was one patron, however, that I immediately recognized.

He was sitting alone next to the window, perched on a high table for two. His back was a little hunched as he studied something in his hands, concentrated and curious. He twisted and turned, fixed and adjusted. Whatever it was, he was so engrossed in it that he didn’t notice that I’d discovered him.

Before I knew it, I was within a few paces from his table, my stomach twisting tighter and tighter with each step. It was when I was in an arm’s length of the empty chair opposite him that he finally looked up.

His eyes met mine, electric blue.

I thought I was going to have a heart attack, right there in front of him, right there in the middle of the busy little café.

He gave me a charming, lopsided grin.

“Hey,” he said simply and smoothly, politeness, mischief, charm, and cheekiness packed all into one word.

I inhaled a little shakily. “Hi,”

I wasn’t really sure what to say, but I suppose I took too long thinking about it; instead of waiting for an answer he stood up and crossed the table.

“Here,” he said, pulling the empty chair from the table.

“Oh, um, are you sure?”

His lopsided grin widened and he shrugged a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I’m not sure how to reply to this either, so I sit down.

He sits down across from me and suddenly I remember what I’m here for.

I inhale and open my mouth a few seconds before I speak, forming my words carefully. “So, MacGyver... is it your first or last name?” I ask unsurely, but I feel better when he gives an approving smile.

“Last,” he replies simply. “My friends call me Mac.”

“And your first?” I ask with more confidence. “And please,” I say, letting out a short laugh. “Don’t take another month to spell it out with paperclips.”

He chuckles. “It’s Angus,” he says lightheartedly. “I know, kinda lame, but that’s what I got.“

“What? No, it’s unique,” I assure him honestly.

He shrugs, still smiling. “Yeah, something like that, I guess.”

I glance down to the table, where a small piece of paper lay, seeming to be a straw wrapper folded into a star. I don’t comment on it, but I continue the conversation.

“I want to thank you for the drink. And that night especially,” I say politely. I glance back up and find his eyes already boring into mine, brilliant sky blue.

He gave me that same lopsided grin that didn’t fail to make my heart dance. He glances down at the paper star and plucks it off the table between his fingers. “If you want to thank me, take this,” he says, quoting himself from the night I met him.

He lowers his gaze as he reaches across the table and gently takes my hand, his eyes flickering back up to mine, almost as if he were asking for permission. I let him take it, and he places the object in my hands, light and tiny. He placed his hand over mine, closing my fingers around it.

“What is it?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. My hands felt shaky and heat was beginning to burn my cheeks; I prayed he didn’t notice.

Instead of answering he gave me his charming smile as he lifted my hand, turning it over and briefly bringing it to his lips. If my cheeks weren’t already red, they definitely are now.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said as he placed my hand back on the table, leaving me with a smile that wouldn’t be leaving my mind anytime soon.

I glance down at the little star in my hand, inspecting the perfect angles and design of it. As I turn it over in my hand I notice there’s a number written on it. Undoubtedly, he’s written his number on the inside, but before I unravel it, I look up, just as he places his hand on the door.

I watch as he turns his head, meeting my eyes from across the room. I swear I can see the sky blue in them all the way over here, and I can definitely see the wink he gives me before he turns around and pushes the door open, disappearing off to who knows where.

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Kylo Ren/Ben Solo - The Last Jedi

A/N: *SPOILERS!* This is kind of a back story of Kylo Ren’s/Ben Solo’s inner conflict as he turned to the dark side. In this short story, Y/N is one of Ben’s friends and fellow students under Luke Skywalker. The sort-of-boring part about this though is that it is all told in a conversation between Y/N and Rey. I couldn’t really figure out a way to write it in a progressive/present manner, so it had to be written through Y/N’s conversation about it.

- - -

“As you know, Luke Skywalker has isolated himself for years here. He separated himself from the Force, but, I have to admit, he had his reasons.”

“And one of those reasons was Ben Solo... wasn’t it?”

I paused for a moment, studying her intense expression. She was so genuinely curious, yet she was so desperate to be told what she wanted to hear.

My eyebrows narrowed. “You already know about him.”

She hesitated. “I... suspect Ben wasn’t the only one who made a bad decision in his past... Luke did too, didn’t he?”

It was my turn to hesitate.

“Please,” she said, taking a step closer to me. “I have to know. Skywalker won’t tell me.”

“Don’t you think he has his reasons for not telling you?”

“Yes, but whatever it is, I need to know. I think Ben may have some conflict in him. I think-“

“What?” I said, interrupting her. “How could you know that?”

She shifted her feet a little. “I have... connected with him. I’m not sure how or why. Sometimes we can see each other. We can talk to each other but... it isn’t always perfect communication. Sometimes we break contact. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone being connected like this... How are you so sure that this is a resource you can trust?” I asked.

“Because the Force has connected us for a reason!” She answered in desperate belief, almost like a child trying to convince the factuality of a fairytale. “I have to have all the information I can get! I can’t fight Ben knowing there could be good in him; I can’t take a chance on ending a life that could have been saved.”

I peered at her hesitantly, doubt stirring in my mind. “Yes, well... like I said, Luke Skywalker had his reasons.”

“What happened, exactly?”

“During Ben’s training, it was obvious to Master Luke that he showed very promising results, but also very... ah, distinct results. He was always pushing himself to become better. Ben was one of the top students, but he too had his flaws. If you paid close attention, you would notice how he would push himself a little too hard, or how he would put all his anger and emotions into his training, especially when he became frustrated. He was an exceptional student. However, his strong talents may have lead him to who he is today - Kylo Ren.”

“And then what?”

“One night, Master Luke traveled to Ben’s sleeping quarters. He was convinced that he knew what Ben would become later in life. He thought the turmoil inside his heart was destined to swallow him whole and turn him into a monster. Technically, he was right - but not because Ben was a bad person, but because Luke failed him.

Standing next to him as he slept, Luke raised his lightsaber over his head, prepared to end his pupil’s life in hopes of stopping him before he could become evil. As he prepared to kill him, Ben awakened. He opened his eyes to see his own teacher before him, just moments from taking his life. But, as he stood there, meeting the gaze of his soon-to-be dead student, Luke did not see what he expected. Instead of an angry enemy ready to defend and kill, he instead saw a scared boy, frightened and betrayed by his own mentor.”

“So Ben isn’t really-?”

“It isn’t that simple,” I interrupted before she could ask her naive question. “Allow me to finish.”

She nodded and I continued.

“In that instant of betrayal, something inside Ben changed. There’s no way to know for sure, but I believe, in that moment, he decided that there was no place for him in the light side. If his own mentor did not believe in him, wanted to kill him even, then why remain on the same side? Luke’s fear of Ben awakened the monster that lay dormant inside him. If Master Luke himself feared him, then surely it was hopeless to fight for the light - here was no way he could win. There was nothing left to do except turn himself to the dark side. For so long he had trained to be the best person he could, struggling between right and wrong, but Luke’s attempt to bring an end to him finally pushed him over the edge. There was no going back after that. So then, he gave all he had, all of his being, to the dark side.

After escaping Skywalker, he then raged on into the night, traveling to each of his peers’ sleeping quarters. In each one he found one of his fellow students. There were eleven. At the mercy of his lightsaber, a number of lives were ended that night - eleven to be exact.

However, all except one student was brutally murdered that night. I... I am that exception.”

“How... how did you...?”

“How did I survive? I didn’t. I was spared. That night, I was the last to be visited by Ben Solo. I woke up when my door was ripped clean off its hinges. He stormed in, straight to my bed where I lay frozen in fear. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t understand why one of my peers would do what he was doing, why he would kill so many innocent lives.

He didn’t waste a split second as he raised his lightsaber over our heads, his eyes blazing with rage. As he swung his arm, my eyes slammed shut. I flinched as I saw the blue flash of the lightsaber through my closed eyelids, but then I felt nothing. I waited a few moments before I opened my eyes, not sure how to react. But as I opened them, I saw his lightsaber was lowered, its blue color casting a cold color across the room. My eyes lifted to his face, where I witnessed the most conflict I had ever seen in a human’s eyes.

His heart was tearing itself apart. His mind was at a standstill; he knew what his anger was telling him to do, but his heart was fighting against it.

Then, before I could fully get a grip on the situation, he closed his lightsaber. He dropped it to the floor, soon to be replaced by the crude, red lightsaber that he now wields today.

As it clattered on the ground, he turned and left through the doorway, just the way he came. The last thing I ever saw of him was his figure fading into the smoke from outside, billowing from Luke’s Jedi training temple, crumbling down into flames.”

“So he couldn’t kill you... could he?”

I swallow. “I suppose not...”

“There must be good in him, there has to be. You experienced it first hand, you-“

“Look,” I said, cutting her off. “I hate to tell you this, but Ben can’t be saved. It’s too late for him.”

“So that’s it? I shouldn’t even try?”

“I would love nothing more than to believe that Ben may turn back to that way he was. But No. You shouldn’t. It’s too late now. He has killed so many; he’s been with the dark side far too long.

At the time when he spared my life, I was tied to a part of him that grounded him to the light side. In his memories I was one of the few things that relieved him of pain and loneliness and sorrow. I was someone he could talk to when he needed comfort and encouragement. That was why it was so hard for him to murder me, just as he did so easily to the rest of our fellow students. I was the last piece of Ben Solo he had left, but when he left my house that night, when he chose to forget me, he finally left behind his past, including me.

He isn’t Ben anymore, Rey. He’s Kylo Ren. If we crossed paths again he would take my life without a second thought. As much as I would love to disagree, as much as I would love to believe there is good in him, I’m not a part of his life anymore, and neither is Ben Solo a part of him.”

For once, the girl didn’t immediately respond. She studied me and turned my words in her head. She took a moment before speaking.

“He loved you... didn’t he? And you... you loved him.”

My stomach tightened. I drew in a breath. “He might have - it’s a possibility. And I might have too. But I don’t think about that. There’s no point in thinking about that. Why would I put myself in the heartbreaking position to believe that he did?”

“But does that not give you hope? Does it not prove to you that he is capable of love?”

“It proves nothing. Since the very beginning I knew Ben was capable of love. I loved him too, as unfortunate as it was. But this is Ben we’re talking about. Ben was the one capable of emotion and kindness, not Kylo Ren. Ben is no longer part of the fight between good and evil. Ben is gone. Ben is dead.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #ben solo #ben solo x reader #star wars #y/n #star wars oneshot #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #oneshot #x reader #imagine #romance #love

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Peter Hayes - Divergent (2)

A/N: In this one, I knew that Dauntless initiates don’t get to watch other initiates’ fear landscapes, but I kinda changed that to fit the story anyway. This one is probably the saddest oneshot I’ve written but it’s also very sweet and fluffy. It doesn’t have much of a plot or climax or whatever, but I thought it turned out pretty okay. It’s about Peter Hayes so if nothing else, that’s a plus. Enjoy!

- - -

I thought I’d seen it all.

So far I had seen him humiliated. I had seen him dismissed for helplessness and weakness. I saw those who he had once betrayed return to haunt and torment him. I had seen him shamefully endure failure. I had seen him exiled to a life with the Factionless. I watched as he cast aside those who consoled him, later driven insane by complete and total isolation. I saw him suffocate and gasp for his life. I watched as he lost his temper, pushing away and damaging his own family. I watched as he looked into the mirror for all eternity, and no matter how long or which way he looked at himself, he still hated the man staring back at him, inside and out.

I would have thought this was all he feared, but I quickly found that I was wrong.

In his fear simulation, he struggled against his captors.

“Get your hands off me,” he snarled, struggling against them.

I shook my head. No matter how hard he struggled it was impossible for him to avoid the situation; it was all in his head. This was his fear landscape - for the first time he was living all his greatest fears. The only way to escape was to either figure a way out or accept what was happening and move on.

I assumed this particular fear was something along the lines of being taken as a hostage or being forced against his will. It was when I saw my own face appear on screen that I realized I had been wrong.

Soon after they handcuffed him to a chair, I saw myself dragged onto the screen, kicking and crying and trying my best to wriggle out of my captor’s hands.

My mouth was wadded with a bandana tied around my head. The only sound I could make were growls or high pitched screams; whatever noise I was making, however, it sounded just like me. If I were Peter I might actually believe it were happening right before my eyes. Luckily, I wasn’t Peter right now, and if I were, I don’t think I would have been strong enough to keep my sanity after what he was about to be put through.

One of Peter’s captors grabbed a fistful of his hair, painfully jerking him still. As Peter gasped and winced, the man bent low to his face and gave him a wicked smile. Into his ear, he simply said one word: “Watch.”

The camera showed Peter’s face; his eyes widened and his face drained.

“No… Please…” His voice trembled - his whole face trembled and tears formed in his eyes. “Please, please no… Not this, anything but this. Please… please!” He begged as if his life depended on it. “Stop, just stop!” He begged and begged and begged some more, until tears flooded down his cheeks and his voice became hoarse. “Please don’t, I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything I swear! Please stop, don’t do this, I’m begging you, just-“

And that was when I first heard my own screams, then his. That was when I decided I couldn’t watch any longer.

“Stop! STOP!” He shouted at our captors, almost drowned out over my screams of pain. “Stop now!” I kept on and on; I’m not sure if I even took a breath in between screams. “Stop now or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

I couldn’t imagine in what ways they were torturing me in front of him. Frankly, by his reaction, I didn’t even want to imagine.

He screamed the same thing, over and over, shouting so loud that I could hear him through the simulation walls. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll kill you!” A string of curse words flew from his mouth as he spat at the men, killing me as slowly and as painfully as they could. He said everything he could think of to make my screaming stop, but it never seemed to be enough.

I closed my eyes and willed him to get himself together; it hurt me to hear all the emotional pain he was in.

Please, just get yourself out of that landscape. It’s not real.

Our screams seemed to get louder and louder and more frequent. It was only after ten of the longest minutes of my life that Peter finally managed to make himself pass out from losing so much air, ending the simulation.

The room rang with the sudden silence. I watched the landscape door open as Four dragged out an unconscious Peter. Four deliberately made eye contact with me across the room where I was sitting on a bench, watching the initiates’ fear tests. Immediately I whisked myself over to them and supported Peter by his waist, helping him to the bench. As I sat down with him, Four gave me a curt nod before marching back into the landscape for the next initiate.

It was hard to look at him, so pale and weak. The only color on his face was from the red around his eyes and his splotchy tear-stained cheeks.

My eyebrows furrowed and my lip trembled a little - not quite enough to make me cry, but just enough to make me shiver and shake. I reached up and combed a hand through his hair.

“Peter? Are you in there?” I asked quietly, twirling my fingers around his wavy curls and little cowlicks. I noticed his eyes and mouth twitch, almost like he were trying to reply. “I’m right here, I’m okay,” I whispered to him, leaving his hair and gently gripping his shoulder to keep him steady. I placed my other hand on his cheek, holding his head so I could meet his gaze.

I watched as the corners of his mouth twitched as he let out a quiet hum. Finally, his eyes opened, revealing their beautiful hazel color that I knew so well.

“There he is,” I said with a small smile, barely loud enough for him to hear. I looked closer and I could now see the brokenness in his eyes, making my heart sink.

“Y/N…” he muttered hoarsely, searching my eyes as if seeing them for the last time. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes began to water.

With a sad smile, I shook my head and pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around his waist and tugging him as close to me as I could.

“Don’t think about it, it wasn’t real,” I whispered into his shoulder soothingly, drawing circles on his back. I felt him bury his face into my neck and pull me even closer. I felt his shoulders tremble, trying to hold himself together.

“I’m right here,” I say to him, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

I felt his hands grasp a fistful of my shirt; his shoulders shook as he tried to hold in a sob. “There was so much blood,” he forced out, his voice shaking. “You screamed so loud, and y-you… you were hurting so much…”

His trembling worsened and his tears started to fall onto my skin. “I… I couldn’t do anything,” he croaked out, just before a sob made him gasp.

Carefully and gently, I unraveled my hands from his waist so I could take his head in my hands, brushing tears away from his cheeks with my thumb.

My eyes watered as I took in his appearance; the way his eyes seemed so cold and dark and broken made my heart ache. There was nothing I could do to take away what he had seen, and he wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

I tilted up my head and pressed a kiss to his nose, to his cheeks, and finally his lips, brushing away the tears that continued to fall.

“It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here,” I told him, over and over again. I took one of his hands in mine and placed it over my heart. “Feel that? I’m right here.”

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Barry Allen/The Flash Imagine

Imagine Barry talking to Caitlin about you, feeling let down because he finally thought he would get to call you his, but someone else got to you first.

“It’s almost funny... I’m just never fast enough,” he told Caitlin, shaking his head with disappointment. “Every time I think I have a chance with her, someone snatches her away from me.”

#barry allen imagine #Barry Allen #the flash #the flash cw #grant gustin #imagine #short imagine #short but sweet #romance #angst #the flash imagine

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kookie-kakes · 6 years

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Barry Allen - The Flash

“Barry? What... what are you...” I trailed off, at a loss for words, my throat tightening and stomach knotting.

Caitlin’s eyes snapped back open and she backed away from Barry. He then turned to me, a little confused, almost as if he’d done nothing wrong.

“Y/N, I- we- it’s not-“ Caitlin stuttered, but even she couldn’t come up with an explanation. My throat tightened more and my eyes started to burn.

I shook my head. “Forget it,” I muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. Before the first tear fell, I immediately turned and walked away as quickly as I could; I was embarrassed, angry, and betrayed. The worst part was, Barry didn’t seem to notice or even seem to care.

- - -

“Where’s Y/N?”

Caitlin pursed her lips and gave Barry a cautious look.

“Your look-a-like may have caused some damage...” she trailed off, guilt written on her face.

His stomach dropped. “What happened?”

“Hannibal kissed me. Or, as she saw it... you kissed me.”

- - -

I heard a knock at my apartment door, waking me from the nap I fell into during my endless crying. I quickly tried to wipe away the dried tear streaks across my face, but as I glanced in my mirror on the way to the door, I realized my appearance as a lost cause at this point.

I swung the door open without a second thought, making me immediately wish I hadn’t. My eyes fell on an all too familiar face, making a shot of rage and hate spread from my head to toes. Immediately my hand raised and a loud slap rang through the air as my hand connected with his cheek.

“Ouch! Wait!”

Without saying a word, I stepped back into my apartment and launched the door shut, right in front of his face.

I backed away from the door and began to walk back to the couch, my rage dissipating and quickly being replaced with sadness and betrayal. My throat was closing and tears were already beginning to spring to my eyes.

“Y/N, please come back I-“

“Go away,” I yelled weakly through the door, nearly choking at the sound of his voice.

“Y/N, I can explain! Who you saw today wasn’t me!”

“Yeah? So not only you didn’t tell me you were cheating on me, but you also didn’t tell me you had a twin brother?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm and disappointment.

“No that’s not it! I just-“

He stopped himself and I heard a muffled sigh on the other side of the door.

“Please, just let me in.”

I didn’t answer. There was complete silence for the next minute.

“Fine. I’ll stay all night if I have to.”

“Are you sure? Caitlin’s probably gonna miss you,” I yell bitterly at him.

“Y/N, it’s not what you think! Please, let me explain!”

I rolled my eyes. Without saying anything, I got back up from the couch and trudged back to the door. I unlatched the lock and swung the door open, revealing a very nervous, very worried-looking Barry. I glanced down; now I notice that in his arms are a bouquet of my favorite flowers and two to-go boxes of my favorite Chinese restaurant. My heart melted and sank, all at the same time.

“You have five minutes,” I told him weakly as I stepped back, regretfully letting him walk through my door.

“Y/N, you have to understand, the Barry you saw today wasn’t me.”

“Then who?” I ask, not being able to meet his eyes. As much as I was mad at him, I still didn’t want him seeing me like this. I saw his hands place the flowers and Chinese food on a nearby end-table next to the couch.

“Hannibal Bates - he’s a shape shifting metahuman,” he responded quickly. I raised my eyebrows. “He impersonated me after trapping me in my house. Look, he did this to Eddie too,” he explained, taking out his cellphone. On it I watched as Eddie shot two of his coworkers, making me gasp. “See? It happened to him too. Luckily we cleared his name when we caught Hannibal.”

I wiped a few remaining tears from my eyes, relief gradually replacing my anger and sadness. I slowly lifted my eyes to meet Barry’s, shaking my head.

“Barry I’m... I am so sorry,” I said to him, regretting all the anger I had towards him. “I was so quick to blame you... I should have listened, I should have-“

All I heard was a light laugh before he pulled me into him by my waist, making me gasp. He pressed his lips against mine, stopping my sentence from escaping my mouth. I forget everything I was planning to say and apologize for as my eyes flutter closed. I can’t help but melt; I let out a small sigh through my nose, feeling him smile against my mouth as he kissed me. My hands wrap around his neck, tugging him closer and trying to get rid as much space as I could between us. I didn’t want anything more than to be as close as I could to him, and the thought of that still being a possibility filled me with happiness; no other girl one could take that possibility away from me.

Slowly, he broke away, still smiling.

“Trust me,” he says softly and gently. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I hope you know that I would never even dream of being with another girl. I love you so much and there’s no one on Earth that could possibly replace you.”

I can’t help but smile up at him as I study his face. I see his beautiful hazel eyes, his adorable nose, and everything else I love about him that makes my heart race just like the first time I saw him.

I smile even wider and lovingly brush my nose against his, making him let out a quiet little laugh, just before I press one last kiss to his lips, short and sweet.

“And I love you so much too.”

#the flash #the flash x reader #the flash oneshot #the flash imagine #imagine #romance #love #oneshot #x reader #barry allen x reader #barry allen #barry allen oneshot #barry allen imagine

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kookie-kakes · 7 years

Text

Jack Wilder - Now You See Me (2)

A/N: I planned this to be just really short and simple, but it kept going and going and it’s cute and makes me happy, so I wrote it anyways. Oh well.

- - -

I heard the frantic scratching of the key against the door knob outside my apartment. I immediately stood up, making my way around the couch. Just as the door was in my sights, it swung open, revealing a disheveled, panicked Jack.

His eyes were wider than usual and his hair was messy, appearing as if he’d been constantly running his hands through it. He rushed towards me.

“Jack, what’s wrong?” I asked him with concern. When he reached me, he placed his hands on each of my shoulders, meeting my eyes with a pleading expression.

“I’m sorry, but… I need a huge favor,” he started.

“Uh, yeah, okay?”

“I need to stay the night, and maybe a few more, I don’t really know yet.”

I shrugged. “What’s such a big deal about that? You’ve stayed over plenty of times.”

It was true - I had been friends with him through thick and thin, even when he had nowhere else to go. Despite his newfound fame with the Horsemen, he had been living off his tricks and cons for a while, so unfortunately his sleep-overs weren’t an unfamiliar event.

“This time it’s different,” he said with a little more panic. “The police they’re… they’re after me. I- I’m scared, Y/N, I don’t want to-”

“Hey, hey,” I said, cutting him off and placing a hand on the side of his head. I brushed my thumb over his cheek and met his eyes with as much intensity as I could, almost if I were trying to send all my assurance through them to him. “You’re going to be okay, you hear me? Everything’s gonna be fine, we’ll figure it out.”

He reluctantly nodded, swallowing. The panic in his eyes seemed to lessen by a fraction.

I tore my gaze away from his to glance at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall.

I turned back to him. “It’s late, we should get to sleep… You look like you need it.”

- - -

I grabbed a pillow from my bedroom closet and padded back into the living area. There I found Jack lying on top of the blankets, his eyes closed, his head turned sideways on the armrest.

My heart skipped a beat. He was as peaceful and as handsome as ever.

I quietly tip-toed across the wooden floor so as not to wake him up. I bent over him and slowly and gently slid my hand under his neck. I tried my best to tilt his head just enough to wedge a pillow between him and the armrest, but before I could, his eyes fluttered open. He let out a light chuckle and raised his head up the rest of the way, allowing me to place the pillow behind him.

He gave me a sleepy smile as his head sank into the pillow and I leaned away from over him.

“Thought you could sneak past me, huh?” He said in a slightly raspy, tired voice - no doubt from his deep nap that he was previously in.

“I didn’t want to wake you. I figured you must be really tired out.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Not tired enough to miss out on seeing my favorite person in the whole wide world,” he says with a wider, more charming smile - the kind that he used so often in his performances to make the audience swoon.

I returned a smile that stretched all the way across my now lightly blushed cheeks. My eyes flickered between each of his warm brown eyes, which had that playful gleam in them as they so often did. I watched him smile just a bit wider, not taking his eyes off mine.

I shrugged as shoulder. “Yeah, well, I can wait, I’m not that important.” I reached up my hand and combed my fingers through his soft, brown hair. “You should get to sleep.”

I expect for him to make up another comment or start another conversation, but he doesn’t. Instead he just sits there in front of me; he studies my face intently.

I give him a questioning look and tilt my head. “What?”

He shakes his head. “You were wrong.”

“About what?”

“You said you weren’t that important. You were wrong. You’re so important. To me, at least.”

I give him a sweet smile. “I’m not the only one. You’re important to me too, you know.”

He smiles, but after a few seconds it fades. He doesn’t say anything. A comfortable moment of silence passes between us; we search each other’s eyes and it seems as if we’re lost in time. I’m not exactly sure how many seconds pass, but finally he moves, pulling me out of my reverie; he lifts his hand and brushes his fingers though my hair, plays around with it, twists it this way and that. A few more seconds pass.

His eyes bore into mine. “Y/N?”

“Mmm?”

His mouth opens slightly for a fraction of a second, almost as if he’s going to stop himself, but he continues. “I think I love you.”

My heart leaps, skipping a beat. “You do?”

He gives a small nod. “I do.”

My eyes flicker all around his face - to his nose, his cheeks, his lips, and once again his eyes. I take in as much as I can, but however much it is, it’s never enough. I smile.

“I think I love you too.”

And with a smile equally as wide as mine, he tilts his head forward just enough to press a kiss to my lips. It’s gentle, it’s sweet, it’s compassionate; it’s everything that makes me go crazy and everything that makes my head spin. It’s everything that makes me crave more, and everything that makes me more and more sure that I love him with all my heart.

#jack wilder x reader #jack wilder #jack #wilder #now you see me #now you see me 2 #Dave Franco #Dave #France #oneshot #romance #imagine #x reader #4 Horsemen #nysm #nysm2 #nysm 2

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kookie-kakes · 7 years

Text

Peter Hayes - Divergent Trilogy (Post-Allegiant)

A/N: *SPOILERS:* As we all know (if you've read Allegiant), Peter Hayes wiped his memory. In the end, it is revealed that he moved to another experiment facility in Milwaukee. This takes place a few years after his arrival.

- - -

He stormed out, forcing the door backwards as hard as he could and marching through it, shoulders raised and tense fists balled tightly at his sides. Even as the door closed, muffled cursing could be heard from the other side, growing quieter and quieter as he traveled farther away.

I stared at the now closed door as the previous moments flashed before my eyes.

The malicious, murderous look in his eyes. The hateful words that came out of his mouth. The crack that echoed through the room as his fist connected with a nose. The yells and swearing that came from him as he struggled against those who attempted to hold him back. Most of all, I recalled the shock of fear that struck my heart and knocked me breathless, making me question whether if the person I was watching was really my friend or not.

A voice dragged me back to reality. “Y/N, you are relieved from your duties today, as is everyone else,” my supervisor announced to both my colleagues and I as he was given a rag for the director. Our experiment director was now sitting in a stool, surrounded by those around him trying to stop his now bleeding nose.

I hesitantly nodded and let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. Still in a daze, my heart still racing, my feet turned and led me out the same door Peter had just stormed through.

- - -

I held my knuckle up to the door, planning to knock, but stopping myself with hesitation.

He couldn’t still be mad, could he? What if he opens the door and knocks my lights out?

I shook my head. This was my friend. I’d known him ever since he’d been rescued from the fringe. He wouldn’t - not to me.

Finally, I tapped my knuckle against the metal door, making a few meek knocks.

I anxiously waited for a few seconds. At first, I questioned whether he actually heard the knocks or not, but just as I was considering knocking again, the door slid open.

Our eyes immediately met. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. There was no emotion, no anger, no regret - just a cold, indifferent stiffness.

There was an expanse of tense silence as I racked my brain for what to say. My mind went blank; I had no idea why I was even there, what I would do, what I would say. Luckily, he broke the silence and I didn’t have to figure it out.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered stiffly.

That wasn’t what I expected.

“You shouldn’t be pushing me away,” I replied, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could give them a second thought.

“I’ve been pushing everyone away, if you haven’t noticed,” he said with a poisonous tone, taking me by a slight surprise.

I let a quiet, fleeting moment pass before I responded.

“Just let me in, Peter.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not? I’ve done it hundreds of other times, why not now?”

“I can’t Y/N.”

“You can.”

He let out a short, hollow, almost vicious laugh.

“Trust me, you don’t know what I can or can’t do.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks and I felt the sudden urge to hit something. Instead, I settled for curling my fist as tight as I could.

“I might know if you would stop pushing me away!”

“Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to know! I don’t want you around me!”

I drew in a breath.

What?

Once again, my mind was blank. But, once again, I didn’t have to know what to say or what to do. Once again, it was him who decided what happened next.

And that made me angry.

Just as he pressed the control panel from inside and the door began to close, I flashed my foot out, right in the middle of the track, stopping it from sealing against the wall.

I caught a fleeting expression of surprise on his face, but not before he quickly regained his composure as if he were completely unphased.

I leaned in close to the crack in the door; it was just barely wide enough to see both his cold, darkened eyes.

My eyes were wide with anger, struggling to express just how much frustration was festering in my mind.

“I may not know what you can or cannot do, but I do know you can’t tell me what to do,” I said in a quiet, deadly tone. “You can’t tell me to stay away. I don’t know who you think you are, or what you think you’ve become, but it’s not supposed to be this. It’s supposed to be the guy I met when you first dragged yourself out of the fringe and into this facility,” I took a quick breath and swallowed my anger. I continued, my tone a little less vicious. “And that’s why you can’t tell me what to do, because you sure as hell better believe I’m going to keep looking for that guy. Because he is kind, and funny, and everything that my best friend used to be, and he is you.”

I stared him down as hard as I could; he stared right back. And then, just for a second, I watched his eyes waver; I couldn’t tell for sure, but for just a moment, they seemed to soften.

“I’m glad there’s at least one person who still thinks that,” he said weakly before turning around and beginning to disappear back into his apartment.

“Peter!”

I didn’t give it a second thought. My hand automatically shot though the slim doorway and grasped onto the first thing it could find - his hand.

He tensed. However, I was surprised to find that he didn’t tear his hand away. Instead, his head turned slowly. His eyes trailed from our hands, up my arm, and finally, my face, reluctantly meeting my eyes.

For a pause, we searched each other’s eyes, silently asking each other what one of us would do next. The closer I looked, the more familiar his eyes seemed, even if only barely. I found a slight softness to them, more similar to the friendlier, charming expression that I’d known for so long.

To my surprise, he gave me a pained look, shaking his head. “You’re not making this easy.”

He let go of my hand and reached to the wall towards the door control panel. The door slid away from my foot, completely opening the space between us.

I let out a breath I had been holding. Instinctively, instead of standing there like any normal person would, I took a step closer and wrapped both arms around his waist. Once again, he tensed, but quickly relaxed and returned the hug. I let out a small sigh, my cheek against his chest.

“Why are you doing this?” I felt his chest vibrate as he spoke quietly.

I loosened my grip and held him at arm’s length. I gave him a once-over and studied him for a moment; finally I met his eyes and shook my head and shrugged.

“You’re my friend. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m dangerous, Y/N,” he told me.

“You’re not, you’re-”

“I’ve seen visions, Y/N!” He raised his voice, just enough to drown out my words.

My eyes widened. “Vis- You mean your old life?”

He pressed his lips in a tight line, nodding.

I looked down, not quite knowing what to say.

“Come here,” he said, noticeably more gently. He took my forearm and led me around the corner of his apartment’s living area. He sat us down, side-by-side on his couch.

At first he didn’t say anything. He sat there, leaned over, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He stared at the tiled floor between his feet, undoubtedly searching for the right words to say.

I watched him reluctantly open his mouth and close it a few times before finally speaking.

“I was… awful,” he started, eyes still on the floor. I subconsciously shook my head in disbelief, but let him continue. “I did things that…” He swallowed. “Things that no one should do. I was sadistic and cowardly. I took someone’s eye. I attempted murder. I… I assisted in genocide, for God’s sake!” By now his voice had raised, the guilt and pain traveling from his mouth to my ears. I noticed his hands were clasped together so tight, that I could see the whites of his knuckles. He took a breath. “I’m a killer, Y/N. A monster,” he told me, his voice shaking.

It was as if I didn’t hear a thing he said; I didn’t believe him. He was describing who he was. There was a difference between who he was and who he is, and that difference was enough for me to believe there was good in him.

I reached out and placed my hand over his. I felt them relax from their tense hold and his eyes slowly traveled to meet mine. I saw swirls of pain in them: shame, despair, sadness. All the things that belonged to someone with a heart that belonged in the right place.

“You’re ashamed,” I told him, firmly holding his gaze. “That’s not an emotion that someone as terrible as you think you are would have. You know what’s right and what’s wrong, and even if you’ve done the things you think you have. You know you’re wrong for doing them.”

He didn’t respond so I glanced down, took his hand in both of mine, and continued.

“You are who you are now. The past doesn’t define you, it only defines who you were. If we didn’t have a past, then we wouldn’t be able to improve who we are today,” I tell him.

He doesn’t reply, instead he intently watches me talk to him. I reach up and brush my fingers through his brown curls. “Now, you have a choice of who you want to be, and something tells me that’s what your old self wanted - to give you a fresh start.”

“And what if you’re wrong? What if my memory loss was just a freak accident?”

“Then you still get a choice,” I say, giving him a small, encouraging smile. Before I can stop myself, I lean in closer, place a hand on the side of his head, and press a kiss to his forehead.

As I pull away, he places a hand on my cheek, meeting my eyes to share an intense gaze. He searches my face before speaking.

“What if,” he started, his eyes flickering to my lips, my nose, and then my eyes again. “What if I gave you a choice?”

My eye brows raised in question.

“You can choose to tell me to stop,” he says, just above a whisper. He tilts his head forward, closer and closer, the space between us diminishing. Finally, he’s close enough so that he gently rests his forehead against mine and I can barely feel his breath dance across my lips. His eyes bore into mine. “Or you can choose to keep going.”

His intense eyes flicker down to my lips again, but quickly return to my eyes. He closes his eyes. This time, I know what happens next. This time, I want what happens next. I don’t stop him.

His lips carefully, gently capture mine in his. I feel his arm wrap around my waist and his hand press against my back. His other hand slides into my hair, just as I feel him smile against my lips - so much that he has to break away. He rests his forehead against mine once again.

“Thank you,” he says, his eyes soft with compassion. He closed his eyes again and presses a kiss to my forehead, my cheeks, and once again my lips. “Thank you for believing in me.”

I smiled up at him. “I never stopped.”

#peter #hayes #peter hayes #divergent #allegiant #insurgent #miles #teller #miles teller #oneshot #peter hayes x reader #x reader #imagine #romance

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kookie-kakes · 7 years

Text

Jack Wilder - Now You See Me

A/N: Honestly I used to hate this but after some heavy editing it kinda grew on me and I kinda really like it now... Who knows, maybe you will too! ^-^

- - -

A series of knocks immediately brought me to my feet.

“Coming!”

I swung the door to my side to reveal a young man, hunched, clutching his side. He looked up at me through a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes. He winced and clutched his side. My eyes flickered down to find blood seeping through his fingers.

My eyes widened. “Jack, holy shi-”

“Yeah, I know, it’s bad…,” he said in a strained voice, cutting me off. He gestured to the inside of my house. “Can we just…?”

I shook my head at him, my eyes narrowed. “I hate you. So, so freaking much,” I mutter in a dangerous tone, just enough for him to hear. Despite my frustrations, I stepped outside, taking his wrist and slinging his arm over my shoulder. I gripped his waist and helped him limp into the house.

“Laying down,” I ordered, lifting his arm from my shoulders. He proceeded to get down on the couch before I stopped him, shaking my head and wagging a finger at him. “Ah, ah. Shirt’s gotta come off first.”

He let out a hollow chuckle, making himself wince. “You could’ve asked before I’d lost two pints of blood.”

I rolled my eyes. “No laughing, Wilder. It speeds up the heart rate, makes you lose more blood,” I said blandly as I opened my first aid kit from the drawer.

“Sorry to break it to you, princess, but that’s not the only reason my heart rate’s going up,” he said cheekily.

I shook my head. “You really have lost a lot of blood.”

He didn’t say anything. I turned around to find him sprawled out on the couch with exhaustion, still clutching his side, his head to the side and his eyes closed, trying his best to control his breathing. As bitter as I was at him, I still felt equally sympathetic; he really was in pain.

I took my materials and sat down with them in front of him on the hard wood floor. I took his wrist and checked his pulse while subconsciously running my fingers through the front of his hair. I concentrated on his pulse as I studied his face. I finished counting his pulse. An abnormally quick heart rate… hmm…

He groaned and turned his head, opening his eyes with a struggle as if I were shining a blinding light in them. His gaze met mine and a strained, playful smile graced his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked.

My eyebrows furrowed. “Like what?”

“Like that.”

I shook my head once again. Must be the blood loss talking.

My eyes traveled to his side where his hand still lay clenched. I gingerly placed my own hand on his, glancing at him. “Can I see?”

As a response he lifted his hand, which I could see was shaking as it traveled through he air. A pang of sympathy thudded against my heart.

I studied the wound for a second before fishing around for the supplies to treat it.

“Third degree trauma wound. Cut from a knife?” I asked, pulling out a numbing injection.

“Yeah, I got- woah, hold on a minute, doc,” he said, his eyes wide as he peered at the needle. “Can we talk about thi-“

“Look, you don’t want me dressing a wound like that without numbing it,” I explained, pulling out a gauze and smearing alcohol on the skin right next to the huge gash.

“Yeah, okay, just make it quick,” he said, turning his head again and squeezing his eyes shut.

As fast as the needle entered his skin, it left just as quickly. I glanced at Jack, who still had his eyes squinted together as tight as he could.

“I’m done now, genius,” I told him, cracking a small smile. My bitterness was quickly fading away; it was hard to stay mad at him for long.

He cracked an eye open, then quickly both of them when he realized the needle was well away from him. “Oh- right, uh, yeah, I know, ” he replied. “Just testing you.”

“Right,” I nodded, raising my eyebrows in a sarcastic way.

I wasted no time in proceeding to clean the wound. I was about halfway done with the stitching when he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

I took a brief pause to send him a questioning look.

I went back to work, still talking. “For?”

“Working you like this. Showing up at your house at midnight to get stitches. It’s not fair to you.”

I shrugged. “Just part of the job, I guess.” A brief silence passed before I let out a short laugh. “But I do have to admit, as much as you get yourself hurt you’d think you’d know how to stitch yourself up by now.”

“Well, maybe you should teach me?”

I shrugged again. “It’s not too hard. Kinda like knitting I guess. Here, watch.” I leaned in close to show him. I tied off the end of the stitches in slow motion so he could see what was happening. As I finished, I glanced up at him to find his attention intently trained on me. I didn’t fail to notice that his face was particularly close to mine. I let out a slightly nervous laugh.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He grinned. “Funny, I asked you the same question just five minutes ago.”

“Okay, yeah, but why?”

Then he grinned even wider. And, as if to answer my question, he propped himself on his elbows and tilted his head forward, just enough to close the gap between us.

I couldn’t comprehend it at first, but as quickly as I tensed up, I relaxed. In one hand I accidentally dropped my tweezers on his chest, abandoning them for a hand in his hair. However, it seemed as if as soon as we kissed, we broke apart. I opened my eyes to find that same silly grin spread across his face.

I guess that’s why.

#jack wilder #dave franco #jack #Wilder #now you see me #now you see me 2 #oneshot #romance #imagine #jack wilder x reader #x reader #dave #franco #nysm #nysm2 #nysm 2

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