tinnie

Only a Rose Snippet

I made some progress on the next chapter of Only a Rose, so I thought I would share this little teaser. 

As far as Henry was concerned, Operation Cobra was the most important goal in his life. However, according to Emma and Mary Margaret, passing his math class was supposed to be his main focus. So he’d taken home two D’s and F on his last assignments. His teachers would thank him once they were free of the curse. Who needed math anyway when happiness of everyone in the town was at stake?

12.14 coda

Dean may have missed out on the fight, but he still feels like drinking when he finally gets back home. Ketch’s expensive bottle of bribery is still sitting on the war room table and his glass is still in his favorite spot, right where he left it.

“Oh, hello, sweetness. Daddy’s here,” Dean coos at it. He hums as he picks up the bottle - still heavy even after a couple of drinks. “Shhh. It’s just you and me now.”

Sam scoffs. “Really, Dean? You’re that easy?”

Dean rolls his eyes over his shoulder. “So?”

Sam doesn’t really want to start anything, he’s feeling too good. He lets Dean smuggle his booze away to his room like always and revels in the still-fresh feeling of adrenaline-fueled ass-kicking. Changing the world. Power in the palms of his hands. He’ll try not to let it go to his head, but he deserves to celebrate the win at least.

Dean, meanwhile, falls like a heavy weight against the back of his bedroom door. 

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anonymous asked:

What are the best over 90,000 word fics that you have read?

hoo ok here we go

Ain’t No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar  

It’s six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone.

For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don’t. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It’s very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters.

I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU.

Steve sits down hard on the steps.

cascades. by orange_crushed

“Holy shit,” Howard says, crackling through the speakers. “You alive in there?” Lying is a sin, of course, but Steve’s not sure what else he can do. He’s already lied to the government and Bucky and God Almighty; and himself, himself most of all. He ought to tell the truth. That he’s not quite what they hoped for. That perhaps they should put him back into the ocean.

“Probably,” he says, instead, listening to Howard’s tinny laughter; and waits for the blast doors to unlock.

If They Haven’t Learned Your Name by silentwalrus (WIP)

Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.”

“That is not standing,” Sam tells him.

“You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.”


aka Steve and Bucky’s Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

just say you do by biblionerd07

Steve just wanted a job. He wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to accept.

Middletown: A Study of Suburban Life by M_Leigh

In which Bucky is the new kid, Steve is the square who takes him in, Tony and Pepper fight over valedictorian a year in advance, Thor remains a golden god, Loki remains a drama queen, Natasha commits an act of vigilante justice, Clint somehow fails to make a your mom joke, Darcy is a Satanist, Jane is a goth, Sif is fine thank you very much, Sam climbs a tree, Peggy says no, Rumlow is a bully, and Mrs. Rogers, Mr. Coulson, and Ms. Hill are all very long-suffering.

Or: the story of the year Bucky Barnes finally learned how to talk to at least one other human being, discovered J. D. Salinger, started to try in school (kind of), got a haircut, landed a punch, almost got arrested, and kissed a boy on the mouth.

our golden age by augustbird

Wherein Bucky is the crown prince and Steve still becomes a hero.

Schrödinger’s Romance by The_StonedSoldier

“It could be a relationship, it could not be. You can assume either until you see for sure the results.“We all know those moments. Those moments when your family all gathers around you and asks "So, do you have a boyfriend yet?”. Bucky knows these moments all too well and, quite frankly, he’s sick to death of them. Unfortunately, being a 21 year old college student makes it harder for him to come up with excuses, and with Christmas coming up he needs to think of a way out fast. A chance encounter with a stranger through an old library textbook could just be the kind of miracle he needs to make it through the holidays with his last shreds of sanity intact.

Thawed Out by auburnnothenna (auburn), eretria

He’s not the Asset. He’s not the Winter Soldier. But neither is he Bucky Barnes. With the help of Steve, Sam and the Avengers, James takes the long, slow road to recovery. Nothing is as easy as either of them thought it would be.

The Art Of Cooking For Two by littleblackfox

“Any questions?”
“Uh. What the fuck am I doing here?” Bucky offers.

there must have been a moment where we could have said no by magdaliny

The Soldier remembers this: he wakes up in the snow.

To Be Vulnerable Is Needed Most Of All by perfect_plan

Steve is a shy comic book artist and meets his new neighbour, Bucky Barnes.

In which there are awkward longings, meddling best friends, comic conventions, heartache, lemons, video games, dorkiness, dancing and two cute boys.

to memory now I can’t recall by Etharei

While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.

Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar), pretending to be Bucky Barnes (which is not), and figuring out the very noisy group of soldiers who call themselves the Howling Commandos.

War, Children by Nonymos

After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.

New rule: unless you’re in palliative fucking care dying in a hospital alone you’re not allowed to have someone make you breakfast and serve it to you in bed. Especially not from your girlfriend. You’re not a baby, life’s not a womb, it’s horrible, get the fuck out of bed and sit at the table and face up to the crippling anxiety attack that is modern life. What, does she hold your little cock while you make toilet so you don’t get wee wee all over the floor? Wash you with a fucking rag ?? Have some self respect - god damn couples are disgusting. Fucking away in bed like pieces of shit trying to make some sort of child they have to keep alive. Slaving away in some dogshit job trying to save up for a house - stashing all that money away in a big ol’ treasure chest like some sort of fucking pirate ship man. 


Why do you even want a house anyway? Who cares? It’s not the fucking 90s - just go on the internet and just rent a house; it’s easy - stop trying to be like your parents. Owning a house is embarrassing anyway, what, you’re just going to buy some land hmm? Like some sort of colonial shit cunt from England? Got yourself a nice little block of land did ya?  Haven’t you done well for yourself? The dream is over, jesus christ, let it go. If this dueling home ownership thinkpiece-narrative between idealistic self obsessed cowardly fuckheads from Gen Y media and pink skinned fat faced racists from The Daily Telegraph doesn’t end soon i’m going to tie a belt around my neck and the doorknob and just go the full Hutchence.  You’re not special either you baby boomer cunt - if you had fully charged mobile phones with the internet and delivery cocaine and imported goats cheese and $9 milkshakes when you were younger instead of Chiko Rolls and whatever else it is you had; seesaws at the park, glasses of water, cheap cigarettes, free education, a will to live, all that nonsense, if you had what we have you wouldn’t own your precious fucking house, trust me.
You’d be living with me in a sharehouse watching Curb Your Enthusiasm on your laptop drinking tinnies on the floor in your underwear like the piece of shit you really are.

SO IM JUST PLAYING WAKFU WITH @tinnypants RIGHT? AND I SEE THIS RANDOM ASS NAKED BALD SAC STARING INTO THE DISTANCE and im like wtf?? So i bring Tinny over.

EXCEPT this is my view above, and Tinny’s view below.

TINNY CAN’T SEE HER. SO we’re freakin out cause she’s a fucking ghost now right. SO THE LOGICAL THING TO DO is see if i can kiss her.

I CAN!!?? AND SHE BLUSHES??? FNjdsg ////

THEn we tried adding her to our group, but it says she doesn’t exist wowie
ALSO she doesn’t laugh when i tickle her o___o

IN CONCLUSION, I met a ghost in Wakfu today and kissed her. Tinny watched on, confused and lost. We are baffled by this ghostly encounter. You do you ass naked ghost girl. You do you.

12.11 coda

fan fiction gap. also phone calls.

Wet leaves sop underfoot as the brothers trek through the woods, retracing Dean’s invisible steps. Sam is keeping both eyes out for anything that could give away the story of what happened last night, fully aware that his brother is practically useless right now.

“So, like,” Dean begins. Sam takes an exasperated breath in prep for the question. “Just how many things do we kill?”

Sam sighs. “A lot.”

“Yeah but, like. More examples,” Dean says, kicking some leaves. The flashlight wiggles in his grip and points too far to left, so Sam gingerly guides his hand back up. Dean smiles at him. “Please tell me I’ve met a mermaid.”

Sam scoffs. “Siren, actually.”

Dean’s eyes go bright and wide. “No way,” he breathes. “I was kidding. Ariel is real?”

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anonymous asked:

48 and 76 w/ Kookie please, can you make it like the boys were hanging out, when they started to talk about you, Jk's girlfriend, and how pretty, sexy, and hot you were, while Jungkook was silently listening to them when the talk came to a perverted one? Then Jungkook was all pissed, and suddenly burst in anger at his hyungs, scolding them and such and... the rest is up to you. xD sorry about this, and if you cant do it, its totally okay :D Love your works, btw. :)

Talk Shit, Get Hit (Jungkook x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Stop it.” + “Don’t you dare!”

Summary: It’s never been easy dating Jungkook, especially when he’s always away on tour or busy working. Luckily, the other members of BTS support the relationship wholeheartedly. In fact, they like you quite a bit! (A bit too much, if Jungkook’s being honest.)

Word count: 1.2k words

Originally posted by jungkookfortunekookies

On your screen, Jungkook’s image was slightly pixelated due to the dim lighting of his hotel room. Luckily, he got his own suite, so the two of you could FaceTime in peace. Still, it wasn’t like you minded the other BTS members.

It was usually really fun to talk to them, but you hadn’t seen Jungkook in weeks because of the tour, and you were seriously missing your boyfriend.

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair–still damp from his shower–and smiled slightly down at his camera. You tried not to swoon at the sight.

“Hey Y/N,” he said, his voice sounding tinny through your earphones.

“Hi Kook,” you smiled back, gazing at your small screen. You shifted on your bed, settling further underneath your thick covers. “How did the concert go?”

“It went well,” Jungkook replied shortly. After a moment of silence, it was clear Jungkook wasn’t planning on elaborating. Looking closer at his image, you could see his jaw was set tightly, and his brows were slightly furrowed.

“Are you okay?” you asked, concern lining your voice. “You seem upset.”

“It’s nothing, Y/N,” Jungkook said sharply, clearly sounding angry. Suddenly, he sighed loudly and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. “It’s…just don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“You can tell me, Kook,” you said softly, frowning at your boyfriend sounding so distraught. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

“It’s seriously nothing,” Jungkook whined, not sounding as angry as before. His eyes darted to the side, avoiding looking at you and the camera. “I’m kinda embarrassed about it, honestly. I was being stupid.”

“Now I’m curious!” you laughed. “You have to tell me now, Jungkook.”

“Oh, shit. You said my full name,” Jungkook gasped dramatically. “Things are getting intense.”

“Just tell me,” you whined, shaking your phone in frustration. You could hear Jungkook cackling through your earphones.

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” Jungkook conceded. “Just…just don’t make fun of me afterwards, okay?”


JUNGKOOK’S POV (One hour earlier)

Like every other night, Jungkook was sprawled across Jin’s bed, his legs hanging off the edge. Taehyung was sitting somewhere above Jungkook, watching a movie on his phone. The other hyungs were there, too, just hanging out before they went to bed.

Everyone was dead tired after their performance earlier that day, but they had a nighttime routine they never dared to break. One time, Jungkook and Taehyung skipped the nightly chill session to binge-watch Haikyuu, and the next morning, Jin lectured them on the importance of family.

So, that was why Jungkook was doing nothing in Namjoon and Jin’s suite when he could have been FaceTiming his girlfriend instead. He sighed petulantly, but none of the hyungs paid him any mind.

“Are we gonna do anything?” Jungkook asked impatiently. “Or are we just going to sit here in silence? Because I’m supposed to FaceTime Y/N tonight, and I would really rather be doing that right now.”

“Oh, you’re talking to Y/N soon?” Hoseok piped up, his head popping into Jungkook’s line of vision as he sat up quickly. “Can I say hi? I haven’t spoken to her in so long!”

“No! This is like, the equivalent of a date, okay?” Jungkook refused. He pulled himself into a sitting position, his tired muscles aching. “Just message her or something, I dunno.”

“How’s she doing, anyway?” Namjoon asked more seriously. “No one giving her any trouble? You two have been pretty good at keeping everything low-key.”

“No, she’s fine,” Jungkook said quickly.

“You know, you’re so lucky Y/N’s such a good girlfriend,” Jimin sighed wistfully from across the room. “If it were another girl, she probably would have told everyone. Like, how do we even know girls like us for us? And not for our money, or something.”

“Yeah, Jungkook’s seriously lucky,” Hoseok agreed. “Plus, Y/N is so cute! Remember when she baked us that cake on our 3rd anniversary since our debut? So adorable!”

“You better not take her for granted, Jungkook. Otherwise, one of us might just steal her from you,” Jin joked.

Jungkook felt his right eye twitch in annoyance, but he knew better than to talk back.

“Yeah, Jin’s right,” Taehyung said, looking up from his phone. He had a glint in his eye, and Jungkook knew he was about to start something. “Y/N’s fucking fit. You know when she visits us in the studio? Sometimes she wears these leggings, and her ass looks so–”

“Stop it! Tae!” Jungkook bellowed, launching himself at Taehyung. The two boys collided and tumbled off the bed, landing on the ground with a loud thunk! Jungkook pinned the other boy beneath him, positively seething in anger.

“Whoa, chill,” Taehyung squeaked. “It was a joke, Kookie!”

“Don’t you dare pull that shit with me, Tae,” Jungkook spat, having his shoulders a rough shake before lifting himself off his friend. “It’s not fucking funny.”

Jungkook made his way to the door, his hyungs staring at him, wide-eyed in shock. Only Yoongi remained passive, regarding Jungkook cooly from where he sat at the desk.

“I’m going to cool down,” Jungkook announced, his voice strained. “Don’t try to follow me.”

“Jungkook, stop being a little shit,” Yoongi said quietly, though he still sounded terrifying. The look in his eyes had Jungkook shaking, but he wasn’t going to admit that. And he wasn’t going to apologize, either.

“Talk shit, get hit!” Jungkook growled, and then promptly spun on his heel and sped out of the suite. He practically ran down the hallway to his room, fearing Yoongi would chase after him and whoop his ass. Luckily, no one followed.


You burst into laughter immediately after Jungkook finished his story. He looked at you, the betrayal written clearly on his face.

“Y/N! You promised you wouldn’t laugh,” Jungkook pouted, his cheeks turning bright pink. “I told you it was embarrassing!”

“N-no, it’s not that,” you gasped out, breathless after laughing so hard. “You’re so cute, Kook. I didn’t know you were the jealous type!”

“It’s because I haven’t seen you in so long,” Jungkook explained bashfully, his blush worsening. “Sometimes it really sucks. I hardly get to spend time with you anymore, and I hate it so fucking much.”

“Hey, Kook. It’s okay,” you smiled, although you understood Jungkook’s frustration. “You’re out there doing amazing things and following your dreams. I don’t mind waiting for you–I’ll always be waiting, so don’t worry about that. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replied softly. “Sometimes I just wish things were different, you know?”

“I don’t,” you said firmly. “Seriously, Kook. I know it’s hard, but we’ll make it through together.”

“I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook blurted out suddenly. “I-I just…fuck, this is embarrassing. Like, you’re so good to me and I want to say ‘thank you’ all the time, but that seems so weird. But…thanks. Thanks for being you, and thanks for sticking with me.”

“I love you, too. And thanks for being you,” you giggled, snuggling into your warm bed. “Also, you really need to apologize to everyone. Especially Tae. What were you thinking, Kook?”

“I will,” Jungkook pouted, sighing loudly as he flopped onto his bed dramatically. You laughed at your boyfriend’s childish antics, and the two of you talked until you drifted to sleep–both dreaming of each other.

- Girl in Luv

This one was fun! Thanks for requesting~ I notice a lot of you guys apologize when you send us requests. Why!!! We love you! You guys are the best!!!! Seriously, we appreciate the support so much. You could ask me to write a 100k word novel and I’d probably do it. (Also, have you guys listened to Winner’s new songs? Fool is my jammmmm) 💛

Sloppy Seconds

(Bucky Barnes x Reader) x Steve Rogers

Notes: THE TITLE IS SELF EXPLANATORY, PWP, one shot, smut.
Established relationship (Bucky x Reader), unlabeled relationship dynamic, explicit sex scenes, messy sex, threesome, DP, the author is going to hell for this, her bags are already packed

Summary: You and Bucky head home, ready to place the finishing touches on your date night. Steve calls, and everyone gets what they needed.

A/N: I needed this, too. Partly because I’m procrastinating on another story I should be writing, partly because I haven’t posted any new fics in a while, and partly because I needed this. Did you need it too? Let me know what you think, and as always—enjoy! ^_^




Bucky held your hand gently with his flesh one, leading you down the hallway to his room. You were both quiet but giggling innocently. Date night had gone well. It was a simple night out—movie and a dinner. You always preferred it in that order instead of the other way around. Watching the movie first meant that dinner didn’t have to be rushed. But you two skipped dessert to save time anyway. The real treat would come later in the night.

You were back in Bucky’s room. The lights were dimmed and soft ambient music filtered through Bucky’s computer speakers. The mood was set just the way you liked it. He approached you quietly, eying you sweetly. Both of your clothes came off easily, and soon Bucky had you on the ground in the nest of blankets and pillows set up in the corner. He rested his muscular, naked body between your equally naked legs and leaned over you. Bucky peppered kisses wherever he could until he finally met your lips. He ground his pelvis against yours, feeling your pussy get slick against his cock without slipping himself in quiet yet. He wanted to warm you up first.

Off in the pile of discarded clothes, Bucky’s phone began to ring. Neither of you noticed until it stopped and your phone started ringing right afterwards. Then Bucky’s twice. Back to yours again.

Bucky grinned against your lips before getting to his feet. “Oh right, our treat.” His semi-hard bobbed from side to side as he walked over to the clothes and dug out his phone. It was Steve.

The phone rang again and Bucky answered immediately.

“Hey Steve, you ready to come over?”

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Before I became radicalised as a man-hating, separatist feminzai hell-bent on installing a matriarchy and imprisoning men as its slaves, I possessed a nominal amount of internalised misogyny. Women were bitchy and mean. They cared about irrelevant rubbish and talked in loud, shrill voices. Their laughter was annoying and tinny, and they did it performatively and too often. Women were boring and dumb, especially if they were pretty and nice.


Were I born a few years later, I’ve no doubt that I could have easily fallen into the horrifying hole that is Women Against Feminism. Being down on other girls was a gesture to reassure all the boys around me that while I may have looked vaguely like a girl on the outside, I wasn’t really like a girl-girl. 


Like so many girls caught in this trap, it wasn’t enough for me to be considered an intellectual and social equal by men (because really, that’s what a lot of this scrabbling for their approval comes back to—the misplaced desire to achieve equality for ourselves by being welcomed into the inner sanctum rather than to destroy the sanctum and redefine the dynamic entirely); I also had to climb a tower made of the discarded and disdained bodies of other women in order to prove myself worthy to enter.


Because I was born a girl, I was taught to fundamentally distrust other women. Whether it arises as bullying, cruelty, or viciously-applied sexism, girls are separated from each other (and from organising into a bloc of power) by being encouraged to view each other as competition for male approval.

—  Clementine Ford, Fight Like A Girl

anonymous asked:

91, 84, 82, 100, with hobi!

Prompt request: “Help me hide!” + “No, I didn’t murder them. I accidentally knocked them unconscious forever, that’s all.” + “My back’s a bit sore from when you stabbed me with your knife.” + “You’re my soulmate!?”

Pairing: Hoseok/Reader

Genre: Fluff (I guess?) + Humour

Summary: In a world where soulmates are identified by matching marks, you meet your other half a little unceremoniously (featuring bad boy Hoseok).

Word count: 1.1k words


With a tired sigh, you glanced up at the clock. It was almost ten–closing time. The record store you worked at part-time was located in a sketchy part of town, and you hated closing. Walking home alone was always a frightening experience.

Since you had nothing else to do, you perused through the racks of CD’s, humming along to the music playing from the store’s speakers.

As you were browsing through the 80’s rock section, the front door swung open, banging against the wall loudly. Your head shot up in surprise, your heart beating wildly.

In front of you, there was a boy about your age, donned in all black and a leather jacket. He was panting heavily, sweat beading on his forehead. You were a bit taken aback by his handsome features–a pointed nose, high cheekbones, and a strong jawline.

But more than anything, you were annoyed. The store closed in three minutes.

“Sorry, the store’s clo–”

“Help me hide!” the boy practically screamed, advancing towards you rapidly. “Hurry! They’re going to find me!”

“Who are they?” you squealed, almost tripping over your feet as you walked backwards. “Who are you!?”

“We can save the introductions for later,” the boy said hurriedly, eyes wide in panic. “I swear I won’t hurt you, just lock the damn door.”

Peering into the boy’s large, almost innocent-looking eyes, you couldn’t help but believe him. Plus, you knew you were in danger now, too.

You grabbed the store keys from where they sat at the cash register and darted to the front door. With shaking hands, you jammed the key into the keyhole and twisted the old, temperamental lock.

You turned back to look at the boy, who seemed to visibly relax.

“Let’s hide,” he said, turning to walk behind the cash register. “Just to be safe.”

Left with no other options, you followed the dangerous boy behind the counter, ducking down with him. You were so close to him, able to feel his radiating body heat and hear the quiet sound of him breathing.

Casting a brief glance at the boy, upon closer inspection, you realized his hands were covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” you choked out, falling onto your butt. You scooted backwards until your back hit the wall. You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest. “Did you kill someone?”

“What?” the boy asked, looking at you, surprised. Then, his gaze shifted to his hands and he laughed. “No, I didn’t murder them. I accidentally knocked them unconscious forever, that’s all.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. “Tonight is the night I die. So young, too. I had my whole life ahead of me.”

“Relax,” the boy laughed. He wiped his bloodied hands on his black jeans, the sticky substance smearing everywhere. “I’m joking. The guy’s not dead. I just momentarily delayed him, hence the hiding now.”

“That’s reassuring,” you squeaked, pulling your knees up to your chest. You could feel your body shaking and your breaths quicken.

“Hey, hey,” the boy frowned, moving closer to you as he sensed your distress. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I swear. No one’s gonna find us, and even if they do, I won’t let them touch you.”

You eyed the boy suspiciously, but you felt your body begin to uncoil.

“I’m Hoseok, by the way,” he continued with a sunny smile, which contrasted starkly against his dark appearance. “Most people just call me J-Hope, though.”

“That’s a pretty lame street name,” you blurted out unthinkingly. The moment you said it, you slapped a hand over your mouth, regretting it instantly.

Hoseok just laughed. “Trust me, it’s not the worst. I have a friend called Baby G.”

You winced at that, smiling a little bit.

“So, what’s your name?” Hoseok asked conversationally.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you replied. Then, you questioned if telling him was a good idea. Belatedly, you realized you were wearing your name tag the entire time.

“Nice to meet you!” Hoseok said cheerily. “Although I wish we could have met in different circumstances.”

“So what happened?” you asked, nodding in the direction of Hoseok’s still slightly bloody hands.

“It was a deal gone awry,” Hoseok shrugged. “It happens sometimes.”

“Are you in a gang?” you whispered, body on alert once more.

“Oh, no,” Hoseok said, laughing in surprise. “I’m actually an underground rapper. One of my friends deals, though, and I was just helping him out.”

You sighed in relief, happy to not be stuck in the middle of a gang war. You lapsed into silence, listening carefully to the sounds coming from outside. In the calm, the sound of Hoseok’s cell phone ringing caused both of you to jump.

Hoseok grabbed his phone and squinted at the display, a frown etched on his face.

“You asshole,” he said immediately, although his words didn’t hold much venom. You could hear the sound of someone talking faintly through the tinny-sounding phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. My back’s a bit sore from when you stabbed me with your knife, though.”

“Are you hurt?” you gasped, ready to reach for the first aid kit stored underneath the cash.

“Oh, no,” Hoseok said, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Figuratively speaking.”

He turned back to the phone, speaking quickly. Hoseok listed names, presumably of the people involved with the drug deal gone south. Eventually, he hung up and turned back to you.

“The coast is clear,” he announced as he stood up. He stretched his long legs a little bit, then extended a hand to help you up. You took it apprehensively, realizing Hoseok could still feel the slight tremors that ran through your body.

Hoseok frowned at this. He shrugged his leather jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. The warm material comforted you immensely. As Hoseok withdrew his arms, you noticed his soul-mark.

It was quite small and delicate looking, which matched Hoseok’s gentle demeanour and clashed with his bad boy persona. His soul-mark was an abstract, winding pattern that reminded you of constellations. It was also shockingly familiar.

“You’re my soulmate!?” you shrieked, staring wide-eyed into Hoseok’s own large eyes.

He gaped at you, glancing down at your clothed forearm. Hastily, you presented your arm, yanking the sleeve of your shirt up to your elbow. Indeed, the perfect match of Hoseok’s soul-mark was drawn into your skin.

“Fuck,” Hoseok managed, completely awed. He looked back up at you with stars in his eyes. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

- Girl in Luv

Sorry this took so long to write! These prompts were the funnest ones, so thanks for requesting them! Hope you enjoyed. If you want to request an imagine, check out our prompts page for inspiration. Happy reading!