An Artists Personal Statement Ao3 Teen

“Soulmate au where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever, it shows up on your soulmate’s skin as well.”

Dean Winchester was in Kindergarten when he first noticed it: blue marker, appearing all over his hands. He was using a red crayon, so where had it come from? He’d ran home later that day and showed his mom, holding his fingers out carefully.

Mary Winchester smiled and pulled him into her lap, taking a deep breath and explaining what it meant. He had a soulmate. Someone to spend his life with, a perfect match for him - just like Mom and Dad - and when he wrote on himself, his soulmate could see it too.

He’d gone to school the next day and told all his friends, proudly showing them the bit of blue he’d managed to save during his bath. They didn’t believe him, until they were playing with building blocks and a green stripe appeared on his jaw. Dean smiled as they swarmed around him, touching it and asking a million questions. “Does it hurt?” “Do you think she’ll be pretty?” “What if maybe it’s a boy?” “Come on, Balthy, don’t be weird.” “What? Everyone knows girls have cooties, so it wouldn’t be gross if it was a boy.”

And so Dean smiled every time a new mark appeared.

“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

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