#is this a little bit inspired by the professor au

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Witchgrass, Louise Glück || Edwin Payne, Dead Boy Detectives: The Case of the Very Long Stairway (2024)

[dksfml]

off my face - yjw

pairing: jungwon x reader genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF word count: 6.6k summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him? author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.

One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known. You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young. No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.

You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.

“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.

"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."

You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.

Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.

But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.

As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.

It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.

To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”

Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.

Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.

“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”

The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?

“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”

Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.

When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?

Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.

You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.

And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.

The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.

As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.

Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.

You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.

In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.

“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”

Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.

Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.

The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”

Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.

It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.

You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.

In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.

The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.

And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”

Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.

Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”

You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.

In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.

“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.

Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.

“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”

You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.

Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”

With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.

Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.

“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”

Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”

He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”

Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.

“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”

He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”

The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.

“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”

His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?

So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.

Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.

Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.

Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.

Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.

"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”

He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”

Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.

After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.

“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”

You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.

His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”

But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.

Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”

His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.

“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”

He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.

The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.

You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.

“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.

The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”

You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”

You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.

Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.

With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.

“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”

You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.

“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”

“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”

You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”

The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.

Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.

“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”

His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.

You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”

“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”

With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.

He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.

As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”

His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”

Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”

Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”

He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”

His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.

“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”

He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”

“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.

The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.

“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.

Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”

Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.

As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.

You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”

In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.

[mortallydeepestobservation]

Glitter, glue, I love you

Summary: You and Namjoon have been married for quite some time, your relationship having only grown since you first met as bright-eyed students back in the day. Now, you're a passionate primary school teacher, and Namjoon is an inspiring college professor, both deeply invested in shaping young minds. This holiday season, after a long day at work, you find yourselves staying late to decorate your classroom. Namjoon, ever the considerate soul, swings by to pick you up, but of course, you take advantage of the opportunity and put him to work. As you hang twinkling lights and arrange paper snowflakes, the conversation takes a meaningful turn. In the midst of the holiday madness, you talk about your future, and the idea of starting a family emerges… Best Christmas gift ever. Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: Fluff and smut. Married couple Au. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings: this is honestly just a fluffy slice of life drabble. Namjoon is clumsy, and whipped. Spandex? drinking. Smut warnings: soft dom Namjoon, big cock Namjoon, oral (m and f receiving) praise, multiple positions, a little overstimulation, just a smidge of breeding kink. Word count: 14k Author’s note: Okay. I know I have an ongoing story, but I do this thing, where I get overwhelmed with life and just blurt out a whole drabble. Usually in those moments the story I’m already working on drives me insane, so I… do this. sorry?😊 thank you sweet sweet @callmenoona25 for accepting my... quirk when i just drop a whole new fic on your lap out of nowhere lol. Thank you @rpwprpwprpwprw For the perfectly aesthetic joonie photos!

(fun fact, i used to know a baby chicken little. He'd always break his glasses down the middle) Merry Christmas everyone!❄️🎄

Your new crafting scissors glided against the construction paper with ease. A flurry of cut-off bits, small pieces of colourful paper, glitter, pompoms, and anything else that merely resembled a Christmas theme littered your classroom floor.

A delightful chaos surrounded you—scraps of red, green, and gold paper mingled with stray stickers, twisted up pipe cleaners, and the occasional orphaned googly eye. It was a mess, the kind only a classroom holiday crafting session could conjure, and yet here you were, adding more to it.

The new scissors, sharp and precise, were a joy to wield, effortlessly turning construction paper into stars, trees, and snowflakes. You got so absorbed in your work that the mountain of scrap paper piling up next to your desk barely registered anymore.

The room was silent now. The kiddos had left hours ago, followed by a parent-teacher conference and a staff meeting to finalize plans for the upcoming Christmas holiday party. By the time you returned to your classroom, the exhaustion was bone-deep, and the sight of the disaster awaiting you made you groan.

But as you approached your desk and spotted a few abandoned crafts—a lopsided tree, a glue-smeared snowman—a spark of creativity flickered to life. The supplies were already out, and with autumn decorations still clinging to the walls, you figured you might as well get a head start on transforming the room into a winter wonderland before the weekend.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cutting and crafting, glueing and arranging, the silence of the empty classroom wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was practically the only moment during the long, exhausting day when you could to sit down and just let your thoughts wonder.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice the sun setting—or the faint creak of your classroom door opening.

“Mrs. Kim, it seems my wife forgot to come home today after class.”

You froze mid-snip, the scissors poised in your hand, a half-finished snowflake dangling from your grip. The familiar voice carried a teasing warmth that made your cheeks flush before you spun around in your chair, to catch a glimpse.

Standing in the doorway was you husband, Namjoon, leaning casually against the doorframe with that playful grin you loved (or occasionally cursed for how easily it could fluster you).

His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and his coat draped over one arm, a telltale sign that he’d come straight from his own long day at work. Yet his smile was bright, his tired eyes twinkling with delight upon seeing you, like he was about to tell you the best pun he ever heard.

“You know, most people would’ve taken that parent-teacher meeting as their cue to call it a day,” he teased, crossing his arms. His gaze swept over the room, taking in the colourful chaos, before settling on you.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound casual as you placed your scissors on the desk and brushed the glitter from your hands, leaning back against the chair. “After that I also had a staff meeting.”

His grin widened. “Did you cut out the staff out of paper?”

You huffed at his playful remark, picking up a pompom from the desk and tossing it in his direction. The fluffy projectile sailed weakly through the air before plopping to the floor with an overly dramatic bounce, getting lost in the multicoloured mess on the ground. “Very funny, Mr. Kim,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your scissors to finish the snowflake.

Namjoon laughed, stepping into the room, his footsteps soft against the glitter-dusted floor. “I prefer clever over funny.”

You mused, pretending to consider his suggestion. “I’ll agree when you grab some paper and make something clever yourself.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “No way. I’m just here to admire the handiwork—And maybe rescue my wife before she buries herself in glitter.”

“Too late for that.” You laughed, showing him the underside of your hands, covered in an array of colourful plastic bits and flecks of glitter.

He laughed too, his warmth filling the classroom as he settled into a nearby chair. He watched you with quiet amusement as you snipped away the final pieces of the snowflake.

Once done, you brushed the remains off the desk with a casual sweep of your hand, letting the scraps fall to the already messy floor. Reaching for a spool of string, you began tying a loop to hang the snowflakes.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, “I was just thinking I could use a tall, handsome man to help me hang these from the ceiling.”

His dimples deepened slightly as his lips curled into a smirk. “Should I fetch the principal for you?”

“God, no!” you exclaimed, shooting him a mock-horrified look.

Namjoon’s laughter echoed again, and he stood, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of your chair. “Fine. Lucky for you, I happen to know a tall, handsome man who’s free to lend a hand. On one condition.”

“And that is?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed him the snowflake.

“I get to take you out for dinner afterwards.”

“You hang up my décor and I don’t have to cook dinner?” you said with a grin, watching as he reached up to hang the snowflake with ease. “You’ve got yourself a deal, my love.”

Namjoon smirked as he hooked the snowflake onto the ceiling, his long fingers adjusting it so it hung perfectly. “Don’t get too excited. You’re paying, and I’m starving,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you handed him another snowflake. “Starving? You make it sound like you haven’t eaten all day.”

“I haven’t eaten enough,” he corrected, taking the snowflake and hanging it with the same care as the first. “Besides, all this helping is hard work. I’m burning calories just by existing in this glitter cloud.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, before standing up and stretching as much as possible, waiting for that satisfying pop that made your back come to life after sitting at your desk for hours.

While Namjoon made remarkable progress on the snowflakes, you retrieved your broom and vacuum cleaner, trying to salvage the floor and not declare war with the cleaning staff in the process.

Once it finally started looking like a classroom again—crayons arranged, glue sticks all capped and drawings proudly hung up on the walls —you fetched your seasonal décor box from the supply closet, gathering the autumn leaves and acorns as you went.

The sound of Namjoon’s soft humming filled the room as he continued to hang the rest of the snowflakes. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, so effortlessly blending into your little world. His tall frame moving with ease as he reached up to secure another delicate snowflake.

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” you teased, carefully arranging the autumn décor for storage.

“Just trying to make your life easier,” Namjoon replied, his voice warm. He stepped back to admire his work, hands on his hips like he’d just solved a complex philosophy problem.

You smiled, unrolling the fairy lights on your desk, silently thanking your teacher assistant for her knack for packing them neatly and knot-free.

“Think you can help me with this too?”

When you looked up, you noticed Namjoon standing next to the wall where your classroom photo was hung up. It was a large picture of you surrounded by your students, all laughing and holding colourful balloons.

The parents had given it to you as a gift on the first day of this school year, though it had been taken during the end-of-year celebration when your little first graders graduated.

Around the group photo, you’d carefully arranged individual pictures of each child, their names neatly written underneath and decorated with felt stickers.

Namjoon stood quietly, his eyes scanning the display with a soft smile tugging at his lips. His expression was a mix of pride and warmth, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“What’s baby Chicken Little up to?” he asked, glancing over at you, the playful nickname making you giggle.

Last year your heart had been stolen by a little boy named Minjun, who made it his yearlong mission to bring you a leaf or a flower every single day of school. His little backpack was almost as big as he was, and he’d always greet you with the brightest, most infectious smile when he walked through the door, before dropping the little plant on your desk and giving you an adorable bow.

You’d told Namjoon all about him at the end of each day, and when you proudly showed him the photo you’d snapped of Minjun on your phone, Namjoon cooed and playfully nicknamed him baby Chicken Little. All because of his “iconic green glasses,” which happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones the animated character wore.

“He’s doing really well. A little genius when it comes to multiplications, although his calligraphy could use some work.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples making an appearance as he glanced back at Minjun’s photo. “Multiplications, huh? Guess he’s already ahead of the curve.”

You smiled fondly, scavenging through your storage boxes for the chalk markers. “He’s a sharp one. Always so curious. His mom says he’s been teaching his little sister how to count using her barbie dolls.

Namjoon’s expression softened further. “Sounds like a future teacher in the making.”

You giggle, “Only if he can pass your philosophy 101 class in college.”

“Oh, come on! You know I’m not as mean as you make me out to be.”

You raised an eyebrow, pausing your search for the chalk markers to give him a teasing look. “Not as mean? Should I remind you about that one student—what was his name? Jungkook? —who said your essay prompts were harder than his organic chemistry final?”

Namjoon groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “That was one time! And he clearly didn’t read the syllabus.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, stifling a laugh as you finally found the markers, holding them up triumphantly. “I’m just saying, if Minjun wants to pass your class, he better start practicing his critical thinking skills now.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, feigning offense. “For the record, my students love me. I’m approachable, insightful, and, dare I say... inspiring.”

You watched as Namjoon gave you that challenging look, daring you to tease him further. But deep down, you knew 100% that he was right.

After all, he’d proudly told you about Jungkook— the ‘Muscle Bunny’—who, by the end of the year, would refuse to leave the classroom after lessons, just for a chance to talk with Namjoon about everything from philosophy to general life issues. (And on more than one occasion, you had to swing by the college to collect your husband, because they were both so emersed in the conversation.)

Sure, Jungkook may have started out as a bit of a tough nut, but by the end of the semester, he was one of Namjoon’s biggest fans.

You chuckled softly at the thought. Namjoon had a way of drawing people in, even the most unlikely candidates. It’s what made him such an outstanding teacher. And you couldn’t be happier that you managed to snatch him up before he even graduated with his teacher’s degree.

“I know you are.” You said honestly, watching his posture soften, his eyes almost twinkling with delight at the compliment.

Namjoon’s dimples deepened, and he turned back to look at the photos on the wall. A comforting silence falling over the classroom again as you started drawing with the chalk markers on the windows.

It was just as you were finishing the last details of the snowman that Namjoon spoke again, his voice steady but carrying a weight that immediately caught your attention.

“Do you think we’d make good parents?”

The question hung in the air, quiet and unexpected, causing you to freeze mid-stroke. Your hand suspended, the tip of the marker just inches away from the snowman’s little top hat. You hadn’t expected that. Namjoon had always been thoughtful, but this… this was something entirely different.

You turned slowly, finding him looking at you, his expression unreadable but soft. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure why he asked the question, but was waiting for your answer nonetheless.

“Good parents?” you repeated, your voice quieter than usual, the weight of the question settling into your chest. It wasn’t just a casual inquiry—it felt loaded and significant. It felt like he was asking something deeper, something that might change your life in the very near future.

Namjoon seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. His lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words, but instead, he stayed silent, letting the question linger.

You cleared your throat, your thoughts racing. Was he asking about parenting techniques? Was this a hypothetical question, or was there something more to it? You couldn’t quite tell. But the thought of it—of you and Namjoon as parents—flashed across your mind, and for a split second, you felt a warmth spread in your chest.

You’d talked about your future many times—even while you were still just dating—and you both agreed you wanted kids. But there was never a set timeline or a specific goal you wanted to reach before starting a family.

You took a slow breath, trying to gather your thoughts as the weight of the question settled in your mind. The idea of having a baby—it was something you’d talked about casually, even dreamt about in passing. But now, with his eyes on you, the conversation suddenly felt real, more tangible than it ever had before.

You finally put the chalk marker down on the desk, turning fully to face him. “You’ve asked me before about the future,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “But this... this feels different. Are you asking because you’re actually thinking about it?”

Namjoon looked at you, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity that made your cheeks heat up. “I mean-” he said after a beat, his voice almost uncertain. “I guess I’ve been thinking about it more lately, especially with everything we’ve built together. I don’t think we can get any more financially stable. And we’ve got a good thing, right? We work well as a team. I just... I wonder what it would be like to take that next step, with you.”

Your heart nearly exploded, a big grin spreading across your face that would certainly make your cheeks hurt if you kept it up. He had a way of making everything feel possible, of making you believe in the future even when you didn’t have all the answers. The thought of raising kids with him, of teaching them the way you both wanted to, filled you with an overwhelming sense of warmth and certainty.

“I think we’d be great,” you said, your voice full of honest affection. “We’d make an amazing team. I know we’ve got the love, the patience, and the understanding to do it.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, as if taking in your words, before a soft smile crept onto his face.

You knew you weren’t about to get a confirmation from him, not now at least. Namjoon needed to steep in his thoughts a bit more before he would finally and ultimately tell you he wants a baby.

Still, his smile lingered, and he slowly nodded, as if to affirm your words without needing to say anything else just yet.

The silence between you both felt comfortable, like a promise for the future—an unspoken understanding that this was a conversation that didn’t need to be rushed.

After a moment, he reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft but sure.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace settle in your chest. Even despite hearing those same exact words come out his mouth millions of times, they still wrapped around you like a protective embrace, making everything else, every worry, every unfinished plan and every glitter-littered snowflake fade into the background.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the moment. “I love you too,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with the same devotion that was in his eyes.

He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, before glancing around the classroom, “What did you ask me to do?”

“Fairy lights, Joon.”

Namjoon chuckled softly at your reminder, his fingers still lingering on your cheek for a moment before he stepped back. “Right, right,” he said, shaking his head. “I got distracted from the important things.”

You watched him walk toward the desk to finish hanging the fairy lights, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you returned to your drawing. The weight of the earlier conversation still lingered in the air, but it left you with a spark of excitement.

As he carefully draped the lights along the chalkboard, you noticed how effortlessly he moved, how much care he put into making sure everything was perfect. You’d always admired that about him—his attention to detail, his quiet confidence in everything he did. And now, with every little task, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of certainty.

“Almost done,” Namjoon called out, glancing over his shoulder. You gave him a thumbs-up, your smile widening as he finished the last strand of lights.

The classroom now looked like a cozy little haven, with the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle warmth over the space. Everything felt perfect.

 You capped your marker once the windows were done, and walked over to your desk to organize a little bit, putting away the potentially dangerous supplies, before closing the drawers and the boxes.

Namjoon stood beside you, his hands in his pockets as he admired the room. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it’s still missing one thing.”

You frowned, stopping mid-motion, to glance around. “What’s that?”

He reached down, gently tugging you to your feet and closing the last box for you. “Us. Out of here, enjoying a well-deserved dinner.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, grabbing his coat and your bag before stepping away from the desk. Namjoon fetched your coat from the hanger, draping it over your shoulders with a soft smile. He then took your hand, a firm but gentle hold, and started guiding you toward the door, almost certain that if he didn’t, you’d find something else to do.

As you walked together, you paused by to the classroom pet cage, drawn by the soft rustling inside. The little chinchilla scamped out of his enclosure and over to the bars, his nose twitching as he looked up at you with big, hopeful eyes.

“Did I tell you we need to take Professor Fluff this Christmas break?” You asked, grabbing a treat from the nearby jar and tossing it into the cage, watching as the chinchilla eagerly snatched it up and started nibbling on it.

Namjoon, holding the door open for you, tilted his head as you walked back to him.

“Wasn’t it Teacher Assistant Park’s turn?”

“She’s pregnant, Namjoonie. She can’t.”

You slipped your hand into his, smiling as his fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the dimly lit school halls.

“She should be able to handle a chinchilla if she expects to take care of a baby.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “No, babe, it’s about allergies.”

Namjoon sighed dramatically but couldn’t fully hide his grin. “That settle it. Definitely getting you pregnant. Even if only for the perks —wife comes home on time, and I get to have her all to myself for the holidays.”

You blushed furiously at his comment, a big, droopy smile tugging on your lips.

“Oh, come on. How much time do you think Professor Fluff is going to keep me occupied?” you tease, bumping your shoulder against him as you walk.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, playful glint in his eyes. “With what I have planned for you, more than I like.” he replied, pulling the door shut behind him as the two of you stepped out into the crisp evening air.

You laugh, your cheeks still warm from the blush he had put there. Namjoon's teasing always had a way of making your heart flutter, but this time, there was something deeper in his words—something that felt like it carried a promise.

“I swear, you really know how to keep me on my toes,” You glanced up at him, feeling the warmth of his touch on your hand as he guided you out into the crisp evening air.

He grinned, pulling you closer to him as you made your way to the car. “That's the idea. Keep you guessing, keep you interested.” He gave you a wink, the playful glint never leaving his eyes, even as he opened the driver’s door for you.

“I don’t think you need to work too hard at it. You're already the most interesting person I know.” You said when he settled into the passengers seat.

Namjoon's smile softened, and for a moment, you could see the sincerity behind his teasing demeanour.

“I like that you think that,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, as he slowly leaned over the console to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

You melted into him, the soft press of his lips against yours lingering for just a moment longer than usual, making your heart race. It was the type of kiss that had you coming back for more, the kind that melted all your worries away, and made you feel like you two were the only ones in the world.

As he pulled away, he gave you a playful smile, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Now please drive. I’m starving.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shift in tone, your heart still fluttering from the lingering kiss.

“Always about food with you,” you sigh, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. “I guess I'll just have to accept that food is your first love.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his expression turning mischievous. “Well, if food's my first love, you, my dear, are my favourite dessert.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a mix of amusement and affection swirling inside you, butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach.

You glanced over at him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Is that so?” You said, your voice teasing as you focused on the road.

Namjoon's grin widened; his eyes gleaming. “Absolutely. You’re sweet, irresistible, and I could spend hours between your legs.”

A flush crept up your cheeks as your grip on the steering wheel tightened, the tension between you two shifting. His words hung in the air, teasing but also carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken.

“Keep talking like that and I'm taking you home,” you threatened.

Namjoon’s expression shifted in an instant from playful to mock-serious. “No, no,” he whined, leaning back into the seat with a dramatic sigh. “I promise I'll be good.”

You giggle. “What do you want to eat then?”

He lit up again, his mock seriousness giving way to his usual enthusiasm. “That little BBQ place that opened up down the street from us.”

“The one you haven’t stopped talking about since they put up the ‘coming soon’ sign?”

“That’s the one,” he admitted unabashedly, his grin growing wider “It’s fate. They opened just in time for us to have the perfect date.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned the car toward home. “I guess it is. But I’m parking at home and we can walk—that way, I can drink too.”

“Oh, is my baby planning to get wasted tonight?” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“No,” you chuckled, glancing at him with a smirk. “But I know for a fact you’re going to order that fancy whiskey you always get, and I don’t want to be stuck as the designated driver.”

Namjoon laughed, his deep dimpled grin lighting up his face. “Fair point. That whiskey is worth the walk. And hey, I’ll carry you home if you have one too many.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. It hasn’t been such a bad week” you smile at him, “But I won’t say no to being spoiled by you a little.”

“Always,” he replied without missing a beat. “I’ll spoil you every chance I get.”

You couldn't help but grin at his words, the warmth in his voice making your blush reappear. There was something so comforting in the way he always knew how to make you feel special, how he was so genuine in every little thing he did for you.

“So, you’re paying tonight?”

“Nope,” he smiled, popping the p, and earning a heartfelt laughter from you.

As the two of you approached your home, you turned the car into the driveway, the familiar sight of your house welcoming you. Namjoon was already getting out of the car, his excitement for the evening palpable.

“Let me grab my bag, and we’ll head out,” you said, stepping out of the car and locking it. Namjoon waited by the gate, glancing around as the evening air started to cool, a few stray little snowflakes lazily drifting through the air. The stars above twinkled in the dark sky, and the soft hum of the city around you made it feel like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

“Ready?” he asked as you approached him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Let’s go,” you replied with a grin, your arm slipping through his. You walked down the quiet street together, the comfortable rhythm of your steps matching each other effortlessly.

The neighbourhood was peaceful, with only a few cars passing by, and the crisp air reddening the tip of your nose. As you reached the corner of the street, the warm glow of the BBQ restaurant came into view. The scent of grilled meat and spices filled the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation, and reminding you your last meal was breakfast, many hours ago.

“There it is,” Namjoon said, his voice full of excitement. “I’ve been dreaming of this all week.”

You laughed, the sound easy and full of affection. “It’s definitely been a long time coming, huh?”

“Worth the wait,” he replied, grinning.

As you entered the restaurant, the cozy atmosphere wrapped around you, and the delicious smells only heightened your anticipation. Namjoon gave you a playful glance, watching as you all but jump with excitement, before leading you to a little booth. You, of course, slid in next to him, and cuddled up against his side as you waited for the waiter. Namjoon grinned as you cuddled up against his side, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. The booth was small, but cozy, and the warm lighting of the restaurant made it feel like a private little nook just for the two of you.

As you settled in, your gaze drifted to the menu, although, truthfully, you were more focused on the tall and handsome man next to you. His warm presence besides you, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to make you feel safe and cared for. The man who wanted a family with you, who would undoubtedly take perfect, tender care of your little human being, and who would hang out at the museum talk hours on end about his favourite pieces with the kiddo, like they could grasp every single concept. Before, undoubtedly trying to teach your baby the deepest philosophy concepts ever, and five different musical instruments all at once.

The waiter soon approached, and Namjoon, with his usual confidence, ordered for the both of you without missing a beat. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted—he already knew. A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched him. He always did that, always taking care of things in his own calm, capable way. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

Once the drinks arrived—a neat whiskey bottle that you couldn’t remember the name of—you clinked your glasses together in a soft toast.

“To perfect dates,” Namjoon said with a glint in his eye, his voice warm and filled with affection as he held his glass up to yours.

“To many more to come,” you replied, your voice light but sincere, the sound of it carrying a promise in the air between you.

The glass met with a soft clink, and the warmth of the whiskey settled in your chest as you took your first sip, savouring the smooth, smoky flavour. Namjoon mirrored your actions, the ice in his glass gently clinking as he took a long sip, never breaking his gaze from you.

You smiled at him, the familiar tenderness filling your heart, a slow, easy feeling of contentment settling over you. There was something special about moments like this—about sharing time in each other’s presence, just the two of you, with no outside distractions.

It reminded you of your first few dates, back when you two were both overworked students with a seriously high number of sleepless nights, and a very poor diet consisting mostly of cola and noodles. Back when he was so nervous that he basically talked to himself the whole date, stumbling over his words in a rush to make the ‘conversation flow’, but still managing to make you laugh with his awkward charm. You didn’t tease him about it back then, how could you? When he’d look at you like you could single-handedly change the world with a flutter of your eyelashes.

And when you agreed to a second date, he gave you the biggest, cheesiest smile you ever saw, before accidentally bumping into you as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, somehow managing to smack you in the face with his forehead.

You froze for a second, both of you staring at each other in stunned silence, before he apologized in a flurry and left you alone and confused in front of your dorm room.

Imagine his surprise when you called him for details about the promised second date.

Even so, there was never a moment when Namjoon ever made you feel unsafe, or like he was going out with you just to make up for his awkwardness. No, despite his nervousness, he always made sure you felt valued, cherished, and like you were the most important person in the room. That was one of the things you’d grown to love about him. He was sincere in every gesture, every word, even when he felt uncertain about himself.

That second date he got to kiss you right.

You had both come a long way since then. The clumsy first kiss was just a part of the story now, a little cherished memory that always brought a warm smile to your lips whenever you thought about it. You’d grown together since that day, and with each date, each shared moment, your bond had only deepened.

Now, here you were, sitting next from him, your husband, in this cozy little restaurant, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey and the various dishes that the waiter brought out for you.

Everything felt right. There was no doubt in your mind that this, right here, was exactly where you were meant to be.

Namjoon caught your eye, a small, playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re smiling to yourself.”

“I’m happy,” you replied simply.

Namjoon softened, his eyes filled with warmth as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “Me too,” he said, his words wrapping around your heart and making it jump in your chest. You quickly leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, giggling a bit when he let out a soft, surprised puff, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected gesture. “What was that for?” he asked, his voice light with amusement but still smooth .

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, the devotion in your gaze unwavering. “For making me happy. And for hanging the snowflakes in my classroom.” You paused for a quick second, before smirking. “And for paying for dinner?”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimpled smile lighting up his face. “Nope.”

He laughed at your fake little pout, before holding out his chopsticks to you. “Here, try this.”

You opened your mouth wide, waiting for him to feed you the piece of beef he cooked, only for it to fall from his chopsticks and right on your button-down shirt.

You both froze for a moment, staring at the little piece of beef resting on your chest. Namjoon blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief before he broke into a fit of laughter, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

“Smooth,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you reached for the beef and popped it into your mouth, before grabbing a napkin to wipe away the mess on your shirt.

“I'm so sorry,” Namjoon said, still laughing, but his voice filled with genuine concern. “I swear I aimed for your mouth.”

You dabbed the spot on your shirt, trying to suppress your own laughter. “That’s what he said.”

At that little comment he gave you a deep belly laugh, a hand covering his mouth, before grabbing another napkin for you.

“I’ll take it to the cleaners tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He still giggled like a little kid watching you try to rub the stain away.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart warm at the small, sweet gesture. “I think it’s fine,” you said, your voice softening as you met his eyes. “It's just a shirt. But it’s the thought that counts.”

Namjoon tilted his head, his dimpled grin returning. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, leaning in slightly, his voice lower and softer. “I swear.”

The temptation to flirt back tugged at you, but the urge to tease him was simply too strong to resist.

“You can start by not burning the rest of the meat on the grill.”

“Shit!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction as he whipped around to check the grill. The sizzling sound of beef filled the air, and he immediately sprang into action, grabbing the tongs and flipping the steaks with exaggerated haste.

“Shit, shit!” he muttered under his breath, his hands moving quickly but still a little too late to save the edges of the tender cuts from burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching the frantic yet adorable way he tried to salvage the meal. "Maybe next time, don’t get so distracted by my chest," you teased, leaning back in your chair with a sly grin

“I swear I’m a better cook when I’m not trying to impress you.” he confessed with an embarrassed smile that made your heart pick up again.

“Why are you still trying to impress me? You’re already getting in my pants tonight.” You flutter your eyelashes up at him, leaning into his side.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered under his breath, focusing back on the grill with renewed determination.

You let out a laugh, unable to resist bugging him further. “Come on, Namjoonie, you don’t have to work this hard for me. I’m already sold. Burned beef and all.”

He shot you a quick look over his shoulder, his dimple making a reappearance as he smirked. “Oh, I know you’re sold. But I still have to keep my reputation intact. Can’t have you thinking you married a man who can’t even grill properly.”

You shrugged playfully. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly drawn to you for your cooking skills to begin with.”

Namjoon smirked, his eyes briefly flicking to yours with a teasing glint before he said, “Good. Then I guess my other skills will have to do now too.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, and you raised an eyebrow, “Careful, Mr. Kim. You keep that up, and I’m taking you home.”

Namjoon’s laugh was loud and deep, echoing around the room as he handed you the piece of meat. “Eat first,” he said with mock seriousness, his tone firm but the amusement dancing in his eyes betrayed him. “And you’re getting dessert too.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, smirking “You’re just going to eat half of whatever I pick, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he admitted shamelessly, his grin widening in triumph, dropping some veggies on your plate too.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laugh as you reached for the menu. “Fine. Let’s get the profiteroles. They look amazing, and you can’t mess up sharing that.”

Namjoon arched a brow. “Are you implying I messed up sharing earlier?”

You shot him a pointed look, lips twitching with amusement. “There’s beef on my shirt, Namjoon.”

Namjoon paused mid-grin, glancing down at your chest, before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. No more distractions.” He turned back to the grill, but not without throwing you a cheeky wink first. “Although, just for the record, you’re quite distracting when you wear that skirt.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I swear, you're impossible.”

Yet there wasn’t even a crumb of conviction in your tone.

The evening carried on naturally, the warmth of the alcohol and the steady rhythm of conversation made everything feel comfortable. The intimate little interludes— the flirting, teasing, the way his eyes never strayed far from you—kept the energy between you two charged. You weren’t sure whether it was the drinks, or Namjoon’s smile, or a mix of both, but you couldn’t deny the way everything felt amplified. You were tipsy, needy, and feeling more than a little flushed.

Namjoon noticed it before you did, that little shift in the air around you. He leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he casually placed his hand over thigh. “You’re looking a little red,” he remarked softly, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made a shiver run down your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, shifting slightly in your seat. “I think I might’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Mm, I noticed,” he said, his voice smooth, low. He didn’t pull his hand away, but instead gave your leg a gentle squeeze, before moving his hand higher up edging the seam of your skirt, “You look adorable though.”

A soft heat spread through you, making your heart beat in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. There was something in his gaze—something undeniably intense—that made the air between you feel thick. Like you could just eat him up, and he’d thank you.

“Do I need to carry you home?”

“No.” You swallowed, shifting your eyes away. “But you should stop looking at me like that. You’re making me blush.” You replied, trying to play it off, but your words felt like they were slipping from your lips a little too easily. You could feel his gaze on you, assessing, as if he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.

Namjoon’s gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up as he leaned in a fraction closer. His thumb gently stroked your skin, the simple touch sending a spark of heat straight to your core. “Am I?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach twist in the most wonderful of ways.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible under the weight of his attention. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smirked.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, not sure whether it was a plea or a warning.

The playful banter felt more like a slow burn now, the kind that lingered in the spaces between your words and between your slowed movements.

 “Mm?”

“Please get the tab, so I can pay and we can go.”

Namjoon’s lips curled, his fingers still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Impatient, baby?” He murmured, his voice deeper now, like he was savouring the effect he was having on you.

You nodded, the growing need clouding your thoughts. “Yes,” you whispered, barely audible. “I want to go home.”

He leaned in slightly, his face just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything else seemed to blur out of existence. His breath was warm against your skin, and the weight of his gaze made you feel both exposed and electrified. It didn’t even register that you were out in public anymore, or that there were other patrons around. The only thing on your mind was his dark eyes staring at you.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low and steady, his smirk never wavering. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He slid his hand off your leg, but not without one last lingering touch—soft, deliberate, and devastating—leaving you absolutely wrecked as he leaned back to call the waiter.

(Of course, he didn’t even let you see the tab, snatching it up and paying for your meal without a second thought.)

Every movement of his was slow, measured, like he knew exactly where your limit was and he was drawing it all out with maddening precision. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension, humming in the spaces where his fingers lingered, where his gaze met yours.

And when he brushed your hair to the side to help you slip into your coat, his hand found the back of your neck, resting there for just a second longer than necessary—firm and warm, enough to leave your heart pounding and your mind spinning.

The moment the door of the restaurant swung open, a gust of cold air hit you, the crisp night biting at your skin. The alcohol in your blood dulled slightly, replaced by the clarity of the chill as you instinctively pulled your coat tighter around you. Yet, the thin fabric did little to shield you from the cold, the breeze slipping through the seams.

Namjoon was right beside you, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street as if the cold didn’t faze him at all. With a glance your way, he stepped closer, shrugging his own coat higher on his shoulders before slipping his arm around you without hesitation. His hand rested lightly on your back, the weight of it both grounding and comforting.

His warmth beside you was enough to make the walk more bearable, and the anticipation bubbling inside you made it all worthwhile.

He turned to you, a slight smile on his lips. “Cold out here, huh?” he said, his breath visible in the night air, quickly leading you towards your home.

You nodded, pulling your scarf up a little higher to shield your face from the cold.

Without a word, Namjoon slid his arm around your shoulders, tucking you closer to his side. His touch was casual yet deliberate, like he didn’t need permission but still silently asked for it. The fabric of his coat was rough against your cheek, but his body heat bled through, chasing away the chill that had started to seep into your skin.

The street was quiet, the glow of streetlights casting long, soft shadows as you walked side by side. Those shy snowflakes from earlier now growing bolder, swirling down in earnest. They clung to your hair and coat, melting into tiny droplets against the warmth of your skin.

Namjoon’s hand shifted after a while, slipping down to find yours. Without hesitation, he slid both into the pocket of his coat, the gesture so natural and intimate that it made your stomach flutter anew. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absently, a small but steady movement that set your heart racing. Each step brought you closer together, your shoulders brushing now and then, as you neared your house.

His presence, the solid warmth of him beside you, was more than enough to keep the chill at bay.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the crisp night air as he glanced over at you.

You nodded, your breath forming soft clouds in the cold. “Yeah. This is nice.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Nice? You’re freezing.”

“You’re hot.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, accompanied by a fit of giggles that felt almost too loud in the still night. The alcohol still hummed faintly in your system, loosening your tongue, but it was worth it just to see Namjoon stutter, his eyebrows raising.

And then he laughed, full and rich, the sound reverberating through you. “Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head with an amused smile. His cheeks tinged pink—maybe from the cold, maybe not—as he reached into his other pocket, pulling out his set of keys.

“Smooth,” he teased, glancing sideways at you as he fiddled with them, making quick work of finding the right one. The lock clicked open, and he stepped aside to let you in first, the warmth of the indoors beckoning you like a sanctuary.

As you passed, he caught your arm gently, his fingers brushing along its length. His eyes met yours, a daring glint in them that suddenly made your heart pick up again.

It wouldn’t be the first time Namjoon pins you to the first flat surface as soon as you walked through the door, fucking every single sensible though out of your brain, and that idea sends a tingle of excitement coursing through your body. You smile up at him, leaning further into his touch.

But Namjoon is undeterred.

“Don’t make snow all over the place. I mopped yesterday.”

You tilted your head, a little indignant puff escaping your lips before you smirk, toeing off your snowy boots by the door. “You’re so sexy when you do chores.” You push your luck further, but your lovely husband can’t seem to pick up on it.

 “That’s it. No more drinks for you.”

“Mm, you love it,” you teased, stepping past him into the warmth of the hallway.

The cozy embrace of the house wrapped around you, softening the crisp chill that clung to your skin, inviting that sense of ease that only your home could bring. You made quick work of shedding your coat and boots, setting them neatly by the door before stretching your arms high above your head, a little moan escaping your lips as the tension of the day melted away.

Namjoon glanced over just in time to catch your little display, his eyes flickering with amusement—and something else. “Comfortable already?” he shrugged off his own coat and tossing it over a chair.

“Very,” you replied with a content sigh. Without much thought, you made your way to the living room and plopped down on the couch, curling up against the soft cushions.

Namjoon followed behind, shaking the snow from his hair before taking his seat right next to you. His long body settled into the couch with easy grace, his head leaning back against the cushions, eyes lazily studying you as you sink further into the couch.

The warmth of the room wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, combining perfectly with the comfortable silence that filled the air. You could feel the weight of the night slip away.

The alcohol was still buzzing lightly through your veins, making you feel a little lighter, more complacent.

Namjoon shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as his hand found its way to your thigh, his fingers resting there with an easy familiarity. The warmth of his palm seeped through the fabric of your skirt, and when he shifted again, his touch grew bolder, fingers tracing slow circles just above your knee.

The small touch made your heart pickup again, and you looked up at him, catching the softness in his expression as he glanced back at you.

“So tired,” he confessed, almost like it was a secret. The day had been long for both of you, and you had no doubt the holiday season weighed just as heavily on him. Sure, yours was filled with glittering snowflakes and loud kids singing out of tune Christmas carols, while his likely consisted of conference calls, paper grading and presentations, but fatigue didn’t discriminate.

Still, there was something about the evening, the silence between you two, that made it all feel worthwhile. The day was over, but the night had a way of stretching on, leaving just enough space for small moments like this. Because with Namjoon, there was always something that made the world feel quieter, easier. Like he was grounding you, helping you recharge in a way no one else could.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response, your voice a little dreamy as you let your head fall to the side, leaning against his shoulder.

“You look tired too,” he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness, still his hand shifted to the inside of your thigh, fingers massaging your skin softly.

“I am,” you admitted with a small sigh, your body naturally melting into his touch as the knots in your muscles began to dissolve.

Yet, even as your body relaxed, a spark flickered deep in your belly—undeniable and growing—kindled by the deliberate care in his movements, each touch purposeful and impossible to ignore.

“But I’m also horny,” you tack on after a few seconds, your voice a little breathy, your eyes flicking up to meet his, watching for his reaction.

Namjoon’s hand stilled for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze dropped briefly to where his fingers rested against your leg, then lifted to meet your eyes. His smile turned slow, deliberate, and his voice dropped an octave when he finally responded.

“Is my baby needy?”

You nodded slowly, feeling completely vulnerable under his deliberate admiration “Yeah,” you whispered, the word falling form your lips like a confession. “I want you.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, as if testing the waters, giving you a chance to pull back if you wanted to. But the way his eyes locked onto yours, the way his touch lingered now a little longer, a little rougher, said he wasn’t going anywhere unless you wanted him to.

Instead of answering, you shifted, turning around to straddle his hips, tugging your skirt higher in the process so you could sit comfortably on his lap.

“Always,” you muttered, your voice a breathy promise before closing the gap between you. You pressed your lips to his with fervour, cutting off the teasing words he was no doubt ready to deliver, swallowing them whole.

 Namjoon’s hands quickly went to your ass, pulling you impossibly closer, and you giggled when he squeezed at your flesh, then shifted like he sensed something unusual.

“What are you wearing?” Namjoon murmured against your mouth, his breath warm and pleasant. The low timbre of his voice made you giggle, the vibration of your laughter mingling with the tickle of his breath.

“Spandex,” you replied with a grin. “How do you think my butt looks so good in this skirt?” With a playful movement, you lifted the hem of your skirt just enough to show him. The spandex hugged your curves perfectly, a sly smirk plastered on your face.

Namjoon chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the spandex before his hand returned to its frisky grip on your ass. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, as if memorizing every curve.

“Sexy,” he concluded. His other hand grabbing the edge of your shorts and letting it slap against your skin; the gesture drawing another burst of giggles from you.

“The sexiest,” you replied, your laughter dissolving into a grin as you shook your head. With an easy motion, you dropped your head onto his shoulder, muffling your laughter against his shirt.

It was ridiculous, you knew that—the whole moment—but there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart swell. Like he found you beautiful even in the silliness, even in spandex.

You remained like that for a moment, enveloped in the comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with your own. His hands continued their gentle kneading of your flesh, and you shifted your hips, pressing closer, feeling his hardness through your clothes.

Namjoon let out a soft huff, and you lifted your head to meet his eyes, an impish glint in your own. With a wicked smile, you began moving your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding against him, enjoying the way he hardens beneath you. His hands tightened, pulling you closer, a soft moan escaping his lips as he let his head fall back against the couch.

“Ah, babe-” His voice was strained, thick with desire, the heat between you intensifying, his hips buckling up slightly.

Your hands wander up his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath his shirt. You can feel his heart racing, matching your own as you lose yourself in the rhythm you’d set. With a bit of fumbling, you managed to unbutton his shirt, watching as he shivered under the touch of your cold fingers as you chart his toned muscles.

“Fuck. Kiss me please,” he breathed out, his voice rough and needy.

Your mouth hovered just few inches away from his, the warmth of his wrapping around you like a cocoon. Close enough to count the moles and freckles that dotted his skin, to take in the slight stubble along his jaw. His breath mingled with yours, teasing your lips.

 Your gaze flickered down, lingering on his mouth for just a moment longer.

And then, you didn’t hesitate. Leaning in, your lips find his in a fervent kiss. His mouth moved with yours, tongues tangling as you explored him, your hands roaming the expanse of his now exposed chest. The kiss was all-consuming, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you since he stepped into your classroom earlier today.

Namjoon's hands are not idle either. They roam up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, making you shiver. You can feel his arousal pressing against your core, and you grind against him, eliciting a low moan from him.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands squeezing your thighs. “I want you so bad.”

His words send another wave of heat through you, and you deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You can feel the tension building between you, your own arousal growing with every passing moment.

With a reluctant movement, you pull away to stand up, your skirt falling back down to your thighs as you stare down at him. Namjoon looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement as you slowly, deliberately, begin to undress for him.

Pulling your button down over your head, you let it fall at his feet, watching the way his eyes barely flicker to it. Instead, Namjoon watches you, his breath quickening as you reveal more and more of your body to him.

You slip out of your skirt, tossing it aside as you stand before him in nothing but your spandex shorts and a lacy bra. His eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your body with a hungry gaze.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing, watching you kneel between his legs on the floor, your hands quickly moving to his belt to unbuckle it.

You take your time with it, savouring the way his breath hitches as you brush your fingers against his hardness. Once the belt is undone, you unbutton his pants and pull them down, taking his boxers with them. Namjoon lifts his hips to help, his gaze never leaving yours.

Now that he's fully exposed, you can't help but admire him; He's always been handsome, but in this moment, with desire burning in his eyes and his body tense with need, his unbuttoned shirt still clinging to his shoulders, he was downright irresistible.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock, hard and ready, resting against his stomach, and he hisses in a deep breath, melting under your touch.

“Fuck.” His head falls back against the couch pillows, breaking eye contact once you wrap your lips against his him, running your tongue over his leaking tip, swirling it and dipping it into the slit, enjoying the lewd sounds that escaped from his chest without abandon.

Emboldened, you keep taking him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and finding a steady rhythm that has him unravelling quickly. Your tongue rolling over his head every time you come back up.

Your hand starts working the part you can’t reach mirroring the rhythm you've set with your mouth, unleashing a flood of moans from him.

Namjoon’s hips buck, accidentally bumping the back of your throat, making you gag, and a quick, weak apology falls from his lips, although you feel like he doesn’t truly mean it, because he does it again right after.

 But you barely care, because his taut stomach clenches, showcasing his pretty abs, and the long, low sound he makes sends a new wave of wetness between your legs, urging you on. You were the one making him weak. You were pleasuring him in such a way that made him lose himself.

“Just like that, love.” He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, not tugging at it, but guiding your movements, fucking your mouth. You keep up with him, your lips now redden, tongue rolling on the underside, and your chin covered in spit as you bob faster.

The room is filled with the wet vulgar sounds your mouth makes and his low groans, the air thick with desire and anticipation.

“Fuck. Babe, stop.” He whimpers, tugging at your hair. “I’m close. Don’t want to cum-”

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls you away, holding you just out of reach as his head falls back against the couch, a long miserable “Fuuuuuck,” filling the space between you, as if he’d just received the worst news ever.

You blink up at him, your mind scrambling to understand his sudden outburst. His gaze meets yours again, and the regret swimming in his eyes deepens your confusion.

“Fuck. I knew I forgot something.” He groaned, voice thick with frustration, his fingers releasing their hold on your hair.

Your hand stilled mid-movement, your head tilting slightly as you tried to make sense of his words.

“You… can’t get blowjobs?” you asked cautiously, your knees wobbling as you stood up, bracing yourself against his legs for stability.

“What? No,” he blurted, his brows furrowing in indignation. “I forgot to go to the store. We’re out of condoms.”

Namjoon looked utterly defeated, his hands reaching out instinctively to steady you. Yet, there was something almost comical in the way his lips formed the smallest of pouts.

You bit down hard on the wicked grin threatening to spread across your face. He was adorable—even now, red hard cock pulsing against his chiselled thighs, neck flushed red, chest rising and falling rapidly as his mind raced. Likely scolding himself for forgetting something so crucial.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, and again, you bury your face into his shoulder, leaning into him to press a kiss against his neck, drawing his gaze back to you. His thumbs began rubbing slow circles against your hips, grounding both of you as you whispered softly into his ear, “We could always go without.”

Namjoon froze. The suggestion sent a visible shiver through him, and his eyes widening slightly.

 For a moment, the room was silent save for the soft hum of the heater in the background, the suggestion hanging in the air between you like a loaded secret. His hands, still resting on your hips, tightened slightly as he stared at you, trying to gauge how serious you were—or how far he could let himself go without losing control.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out broken despite his best efforts, and you lean back to look at his face, your hands holding onto his shoulders.

“It would make a nice Christmas gift.” You admit, almost bashful, but maintaining eye contact.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The playful tension had melted away, replaced by something heavier, more profound.

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course, not” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “I want that too. I want a family with you.”

His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of you.

Namjoon let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes closing as if to let your words sink in fully. When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart feel like it might burst.

“I really fucking love you.” He murmured, his hands settling more firmly on your hips, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you.

Your lips quirked into a small smile, your hands moving to cradle his face. “You better,” you whispered back. “I’m your wife, after all.”

Without warning, his arms tightened around you, and in one smooth motion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace.

You let out a startled gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders for balance.

“Namjoon!”

But he only laughed at your reaction, the sound of it lighting up his features as he carried you down the hallway with ease. His fingers pressed gently into your skin, steadying you, and even despite your mock annoyance, your heart still fluttered at the way he held you—like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Don’t think being my wife means you can get away with teasing me like that,” he murmured. His steps were steady, purposeful, the warm glow of the bedroom lights spilling out into the hallway as he nudged the door open with his foot.

You grinned, brushing a soft kiss against his jaw. “Actually, I think it means exactly that.”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk as he laid you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering as if reluctant to let you go, while your legs remained wrapped around his hips, his hard cock pressing against your thigh. His gaze roamed over you, warm and full of affection, but the spark of desire in his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned over you, bracing himself with one arm while the other trailed down your side, sending a delicious shiver through you.

“You love it,” you replied, your tone just as playful as you tugged him closer.

Namjoon hummed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started sweet but quickly deepened, every touch and movement making you feel lighter, like you were floating.

His soft lips were moving yours and controlling the kiss, and you melted in his arms, letting him do anything he wanted. He pushed your lips open, and you willingly allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, moaning against him when he hooked it around your lip to softly bite on it.

His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savouring every second of the connection between you two. Your hands dropped down to his shoulders to push away his shirt, letting it fall off somewhere, and in response, Namjoon pressed against you further, pushing you into the mattress.

You can feel the weight of his body on you, every inch of him pressed against your curves, and you revel in the sensation, though it does very little to soothe the burning ache spreading through you. You try to arch your back, try to make your hips meet, desperate to feel more of him, but Namjoon keeps you pinned down. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you're lightheaded from the kiss, each one of his lingering touches drawing you deeper.

His hands move with purpose, gliding down your arm and leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. Each touch feels purposeful, yet it only strokes the fire within you, the tension between you building with every measured caress.

Namjoon shifts, his lips abandoning yours to travel along your jaw and neck. Soft and warm, they graze your skin, leaving a searing path of heat that makes your breath hitch with every press of his mouth.

The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his breath on your neck made your head spin, the room narrowing to just the two of you.

 You gasp when he nips at your neck, his lips a welcome contrast to the sting of his teeth. His hips rock against yours, and you moan at the feeling, even if it's just his length pressing against you, but at this point, you’d take anything to ease the lustful haze that clouded your mind.

“Joonie,” you whimper squeezing your thighs around his hips, “Please.”

You fought to keep your breathing steady, but it was a losing battle.

 “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft like caramel, dripping with longing, his hands still caressing the sides of your body, stopping over your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra.

You mewl, arching instinctively towards his touch. “Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice hushed, sounding so needy that you barely recognise it as your own.

His eyes shift to your face for a quick second, a big teasing smirk tugging on his lips.

“Mmm, I will.” He replies casually, before pinching your nipples through your bra. A little whimper falls from your lips as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you.

He tugs your bra down, letting your tits spill out, and with an almost primal movement, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continues to tease and pinch the other one. You gasp, throwing your head back, letting out soft moans as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pulling him closer.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breaths against your chest, goosebumps erupting across your skin, before switching his attention to your other nipple.

You look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire. His hands slide down your body and you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your spandex shorts, tugging them down your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable before him.

He lifts his head from your breast, his lips red and slightly swollen, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. You feel a flicker of shyness wash over you, an instinctive reaction under his steady, adoring eyes. It isn’t that Namjoon ever made you feel uncomfortable—far from it. If anything, he had taught you more about how to love yourself than anyone else ever had.

But still, those small insecurities lingered, faint whispers at the back of your mind. The little things only you noticed, the things you thought didn’t measure up. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the warmth in Namjoon’s gaze, the way his touch seemed to erase every doubt and hesitation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but brimming with conviction, like he couldn’t hold the words back even if he tried. His eyes traced every curve and detail, lingering as if memorizing you all over again. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, the words tinged with awe before he leaned down to place slow, deliberate kisses along your ribs.

A shaky moan slipped from your lips, a sound of your clear frustration as his seemingly endless patience began to test your resolve. He chuckled softly against your hip, the vibration of it sending a wave of heat through you.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, your voice teetering on a plea, your fingers threading through his hair to tug gently.

His lips paused their trail, his gaze lifting to meet yours, mischief and adoration mingling in his dark eyes. “What is it, love?”

“Stop teasing,” you demanded, your tone shaky but resolute. “I swear to god-” but before you could finish your threat, Namjoon’s fingers swipe across your pussy, rendering you absolutely speechless.

“Holy fucking shit.” Namjoon breathed, the disbelief in his voice almost comical as his wide eyes flickered from your face to your cunt. “You’re dripping wet.” His fingers parted your lips, pulling them apart so he could see better. “Is the idea of me knocking you up turning you on this much?” His other hand joined in, both of them exploring your wetness, spreading it around. “Fuck.” He muttered, his fingers positioning at your entrance, sliding in and out of you easily.

You couldn't help but moan, your back arching as you pressed yourself into his touch. “Namjoon,” you sob, your voice filled with longing. “Please, just fuck me.”

“I will. I will,” he mumbles, moving lower to settle between your legs, spreading your thighs further apart, “After I get a taste.” He tacks on, quite proud of himself.

You couldn’t help but huff in frustration and desire as you felt his breath against your slick folds, ready to complain. But before you could get the words out, Namjoon quickly shuts you up, his mouth on you.

“Be good.” He warns, his tone firm but gentle, voice muffled against your pussy. As the words left his lips, his tongue darted out, tracing a line from your entrance all the way to your clit and then back down, causing you to shiver in pleasure. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open for him as he explored every inch of you, his fingers moving in tandem with his lips.

“Joon,” you whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to control the rhythm, your hips trashing against his face. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of heat through you, but his patience never wavered, even as your breaths became shorter and your whimpers turned into moans.

He slurped loudly, pressing his face in hard as he moved his lips and tongue expertly. You couldn’t help throwing your head back and moaning, the movement completely involuntary to you. His head moved around as he devoured you like a starving man, moaning to himself as he worked, his tongue lapping at your wetness, before coming back up to your clit and sucking hard, driving you crazy with the way his fingers moved and arched against your sweet spot.

“Namjoon!” Your eyes closed and you bit your lip, trying to muffle your moans, feeling the way his tongue swirled around your opening and licked up your wetness like he was savouring every drop of you.

He was worshipping you, consuming you like he’d been starving for you, growling whenever you pulled his hair too hard or moaned for him in a way he liked. Your back arched and you let yourself close your eyes, unable to stop yourself as your loud moans turned into gibberish, raising in pitch as he brought you right up to the edge.

His name was falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips bucking, thighs trembling and stomach clenched. You felt like you were about to explode, but he didn’t let up, not until you were unravelling against his touch. Your orgasm was so sudden, so violent and unexpected that you didn’t even get a chance to warn him, wave after wave of staggering pleasure washing over you, rendering you an absolute useless mess in his grasp.

 Namjoon didn't miss a beat, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came hard around him. Your muscles quivered and pulsed, and he groaned, the sound reverberating through you and adding to the intense pleasure crashing through your veins. And he didn't stop, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your body, his fingers pushing your release in his mouth.

As you slowly came down from your high, Namjoon gently kissed your inner thighs, his lips warm and soft against your sensitive skin. You could feel his proud smile against you, and you couldn't even find the energy to glare at him.

It wasn't until your breaths evened out and your body went limp that you finally managed to push him away, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips when he looked up at you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked, his voice twinged with amusement, although a little breathless.

You couldn't be bothered to reply, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. But you managed a small, satisfied smile, your eyes closed in contentment.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against your hip. At that you chuckled, the sound light and airless, the remnants of pleasure still humming through your body like an electric current.

Namjoon began a slow ascend, pressing soft kisses against your skin as he went, each one making your breath hitch just a little more. When he finally reached your lips, his gaze was heavy with intent. He kissed you deeply, and the moment you tasted yourself on his tongue, a wave of heat crashed over you.

Your lips parted instinctively, drawing his tongue deeper as you sucked on it, the sensation unravelling something primal in your mind. A soft, desperate moan escaped against his mouth, your hands fisting into his hair as you clung to him, utterly consumed by him, by his mouth, by his hands against your hips. By Namjoon. Your husband.

“Ready for me to fuck you now, my love?” he asked, his voice low, a whisper against your lips, but one that sent a new wave of wetness to your core.

 You were too fucked out to form a coherent sentence, so your let your hand drop to hips and pull him closer, eager for him to take you.

You could feel his hard cock press against your entrance, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to glance down and watch as he positioned himself at your opening. A low moan falling from your lips as you waited for him to thrust inside you.

But instead, Namjoon teases you further, swiping his cock against your wet folds, driving you wild.

“C’mon love, don’t leave me hanging. Say something.” He chuckles, watching your expression carefully as he pushes the head of his cock against your clit, circling it.

That completely makes you snap, a flurry of uncoherent begging and threatening falling from your lips, filling the little space between your heavy breathing and his low chuckles.

“Please, please, please Namjoonie. Fuck me. Get me pregnant. God! Move! You always do this,” your head falls back against the pillow, tears prickling at the inside of your eyes, your fingernails digging in his skin. “Knock me up, please. Just fuck me. I’ll delete your homework gradings if you don’t.”

He bets you have almost no idea what you were spewing, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Not when his heart swelled with love and desire at your words. He couldn’t resist you any longer. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you just for a second longer, before he finally pushes inside, agonizingly slow.

You gasp, your body trembling in his arms, feeling him fill you all the way to the brim. The feeling of him bare inside you, the warmth and the intimacy of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein. You feel every movement and every thrust as if it's the first time all over again. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that you can't help but let out a series of weak, trembling moans every time he moves inside you.

“Holy fucking shit, you feel so fucking good.” Namjoon whimpered, his hips slapping against you, pulling almost all the way out before filling you up again, “Fuck, you're so tight. I can feel every inch of you, gripping me, love.”

The sound of your skin slapping fills the bedroom with his steady thrusts, punctuated by the occasional slap of his balls against your ass. You gasp, your orgasm building deep inside you. You can feel it coiling in your belly, ready to explode at any moment.

“Yes, yes, just like that, baby,” you moan, your hips moving in time with his.

“Shit love, look at that.” Namjoon presses a hand hard against your lower stomach, “Can you feel it?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. “Can you feel how deep I'm inside you, how close I am to filling you up?”

His words sent another wave of heat crashing over you, and you nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt his hand press against your stomach. His cock, so deep  and snug in you that you can feel the bulge faintly against your abdomen as he moved.

You nodded frantically, your eyes wide as you felt him pulse inside you. The thought of him coming inside you, of him potentially getting you pregnant, only served to heighten your pleasure. You were so close, so unbearably close to the edge, and with each thrust, you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to the brink.

“Yes, yes, I can feel it,” you gasped, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Please, Namjoon, please fill me up. I want to feel you cum inside me, fill me up, I want to carry your baby.”

Namjoon's thrusts grew more desperate, spurred on by your pleas, more urgent as he chased his release, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t think possible.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Don't stop,” you beg, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Don't you dare stop!”

But of course, ever the contrarian, Namjoon pulls out, making you scream in frustration. An elongated, miserable “Nooo,” falling from your lips, your body going limp, “God! Namjoon! I swear-” but he ignores you, flipping you over on your stomach.

You still angle your hips up in invitation, although angrily, your body trembling with anticipation and frustration. You’ve known your husband long enough to know how he liked to play, and how to play his games. You plant your knees on the mattress, lifting your ass higher in the air as your chest falls against the pillows, slowly swaying your hips for him.

 Namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Watching you offer yourself to him so willingly, so eagerly. He can’t resist your lure much longer. He positions himself behind you, his fingers tracing a path down your spine before grasping your hips firmly. You feel the head of his cock against your entrance once more, and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips, as again, he swipes it against your clit before sinking into you.

This new position allows him to reach deeper somehow, and you can feel him hitting your sweet spot with every movement. Your fingers clench the sheets as he starts to thrust harder, his hips meeting your ass with a satisfying slap, and you push back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, your pleasure mounting right back up, bringing you closer to the edge.

 Sweat starts to collect at your hairline, your breath hitching with each of his powerful thrusts.

“That's it, love. Take all of me,” Namjoon growls, his lips finding your neck as he continues to fuck into you. His hand snakes around to find your clit, and he starts rubbing slow circles around it, making your knees buckle under your own weight.

Your body trembles as he pushes you closer and closer to ecstasy. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode at any moment, with any one of his thrusts that hits right against your g-spot.

“Namjoon, I'm so close,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets like a lifeline.

“I know, love. I can feel it. Let go, let me feel you come undone for me,” he whispers in your ear, his voice filled with need, his fingers flicking your clit softly, completely stealing the breath from your lungs. “Let me feel you clench around my cock baby.”

His words are your undoing. You cry out, dissolving into pleasure, everything around you cutting to white noise. Your elbows give way, and you collapse onto the mattress, completely boneless as he coaxes wave after wave of bliss from your trembling body.

His hands fly to your hips, holding you up for him as his thrusts grow more erratic, dragging out your orgasm and making you clench so hard against him that his movements stutters. You felt utterly weightless, as though your body had melted into the sheets, as if you had no strength left to hold yourself together.

“I’m so close,” Namjoon moaned your name, his sounds growing lounder and more uninhibited, as he relentlessly chased his own climax.

“Cum inside me,” you beg, egging him on. “Fill me up with your seed. Make a baby with me.”

His movements falter, his most base instincts taking over, and with one final, powerful thrust, he releases. Filling you up with his hot, sticky cum, you can feel it, coating your insides and leaking out. You clench around him, another orgasm, less intense but just as blissful as the first one washes over you.

The feeling of him coming inside you, the warmth and the intensity of it, is almost too much to bear. You can feel your heart racing, your entire body trembling with the aftershock. You can feel him still inside you, pulsing to the rhythm of his own release, and the sensation of it is just overwhelming.

“Fuck, love,” Namjoon whispers, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. “That was...incredible.”

You can only nod in agreement, your breathing still heavy and uneven. You can feel him softening inside you, but you don't want him to pull out. You want to stay like this forever, connected in the most intimate way possible, his full body weight on you.

But eventually, he does pull out, rolling onto his back beside you and you snuggle up against him, your head resting on his chest as you catch your breath. You can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, broken only by your breathing, a soft, tired chuckle escaped your lips. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You have a breeding kink.” You state with a sly grin, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Namjoon huffs, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he mutters, “Maybe.”

“Good,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Means you’ll enjoy these next few months.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair as his gaze locks onto you, full of equal parts amusement and surrender.

“Fuck. You’ll be the death of me, woman.”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (4 – 10 October 2024)

Another week chock-full of updates! October is always such a rich and amazingly productive month in fandom, with such an explosion of new ideas and fics with the many prompt challenges going on. And a few more @tomarrybigbang fics as well! 

As with last week, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, like a little bit about the chapter(s) updated. For this format of weekly list, there’s no space to add a summary or extra info about the fics, so I’ll rely on the authors to share a bit more about their updates, if you’re so inclined! 🤍

A recap of the author notes from last week:

such unholy heaving by @cealesti (M, 10k, WIP) “A horror/suspense F/F Tomarry fic set in a D&D-inspired fantasy setting.” These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 28k, WIP) “GOVERNMENT WARNING: (1) According to the Surgeon General, Harry Potter should not drink alcoholic beverages while resurrecting Lord Voldemort because of the risk of...everything. (2) Consumption of alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to operate Deathly Hallows, and may cause, er, problems. Aka, Harry gets hammered and decides it's a great idea to drunk "text" (i.e., summon) Voldemort with the Stone. Voldemort isn't one to pass up an opportunity to exploit vulnerability for personal gain.” Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian (T, 46k, WIP) “A depressed postwar Harry has taken Death's hand, reunited with the horcrux he mourned, and traveled into his own past Now he wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.” Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 18k, WIP) “A role reversal AU! In this latest chapter, Tom tells a scary story for Halloween to get Harry hot and bothered.” on line sex & rabbit stew by @izharmilgram (E, 3k, complete) “Includes time-travelling Professor Harry Potter, phone sex in the 1950s, horcrux shenanigans, parseltongue, Tom being sexually frustrated... fun stuff.” The Brief Fiery Plummets by @thefangirlibrarian (T, 1k, WIP) “A series of 100-word drabbles exploring different moments Harry might have woken up in after traveling back to the past in When the Weight is Gone.” forgive me father by @cindle-writes (E, 2k, complete) “A PWP one-shot where Tom sneaks into Harry's bed while he's sleeping and seduces him, featuring adoptive father Harry and shota boypussy Tom.”

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Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 15 (Completed) of Just Business by @holaolla1

One Shot | family friends by @reggieblk

One Shot | young lust by @xodahafez

One Shot | the precarity of virgin souls by @izharmilgram

One Shot | roughly, dry and painful by @2sidesofthesamesoul

One Shot | don’t wake me (i’m not dreaming) by @dreaming-in-the-dark

One Shot | The Sweetness of Your Tears by @v33r00

One Shot | sleeping with ghosts by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | Newly Forged by @obsidianpen

One Shot | bad guy by @circleofplanets

One Shot | nineteen (ever so priceless) by @midsummersins

One Shot | Consequences of Murder by @penrot

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Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 3 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight

Chapter 37 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 63 of Holly & Yew by @lovely-lotus

Chapter 7 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 15 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 1 of it’s hard being casual by sansaerys

Chapter 12 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 9 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 3 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn

Chapter 7 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapter 11 of Aphelion by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 36 of Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist

Chapter 14 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 2 of Lunacy by @crowcrowcrowthing

Chapters 1 and 2 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries

Chapter 1 of The Sacred Art Of Repression by @goldenzingy46

Chapter 2 of such unholy heaving by @cealesti

Chapters 5 through 7 of The Brief Fiery Plummets by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 4 of Fate's Coffin by @noxxytocin

Chapter 1 of Infinite by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 5 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable

Chapter 1 of Plague by @a-sentimental-man

Chapter 5 of Forbidden Darkness by @neurowriter14

Chapter 4 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

Chapter 1 of the alchemy by @cindle-writes

Chapters 126 and 127 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 1 of despite everything, it's still you by @boromirsayshi

Chapter 8 of all you do is kill, love snakes, and lie by @soopsiedaisies

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[re-colligere]

I'm currently busy with life thangs so progress on the au is a little bit slow - BUT !! There's definitely a lot in the works, which includes...SIDE CHARACTERS WOOOH YEAH!! I just had a stroke of inspiration to (ssorta) finalize Hellforge's HENCHMEN. MINIONS. Classic villain GOONS!! Hellforge has more employees under his wing, but Nora, Effy and Cort are his main right hands! They tend to be the ones he turns to for any upcoming schemes and plans and whatnot.

Because of this, Hellforge had asked them for help in the League of ID - they would be paid for their time and effort accordingly, but these guys have a strong passion for the art of villainy (and they enjoy their boss's presence a lot), of course they'd love to help! Honorary League members and all that. As of the League forming, they can be seen helping Dr. Axyon and Professor Terror too!

Their personalities are... NOT fleshed out too much as of now, to be honest I just wanted to show y'all the designs for now. The initial idea I had for them was "the three stooges/like all those silly minions villains have". So at least they have that going for 'em. It's important to know that they love working with each other...mmmaybe to a codependent degree. They all have intense reactions to stress - they could Absolutely wreck shit if things got REAL dicey.

Earlier concepts below the cut WEE!

The left sketch WAS the first concept for these three, they were supposed to resemble the mind worker jellybean designs more...I never went down further in this stage because um. I really wanted to try something else with their shape inspirations. The second sketch was the basis for the kinda-final designs earlier in this post, though I still wanted to keep the round-sharp-big silhouettes for them. Had to switch Nora and Adri/Effy's names for design reasons.

[1tsstargaze59]

OK, I know I said I wouldn't post but like I HYPERFIXED SO HARD THAT HM-

ANXIFEAR FANKID?????

Also some college au anxifear doodles below the cut hehe /TW for slightly suggestive content?? Ever so slightly XD

So basically them ^^^^^ /hj

I love them sm like I was just making a fankid for fun, I DIDNT EXPECT TO LOVE THEM THIS MUCH THO TWT💕💕💕

She's 17, she plays Overwatch, her fav food is cosmic brownies, she's a spelling bee champion and future literature major (I've been thinking about them all weekend-)

Pls be nice to Panic guys, they're TEENAGE CODED‼️and definitely a minor in the college au OK?

Anyway, imma yap about them for a bit now, so you can leave if you're not interested XD

Panic's actual size is this, just a bit taller then his mom (ft.Me intruding on the concept art LMAO)

Their design is based off mainly the little shocked expression sign, yk the 🗯, their hair I saw a design that had this hair style and I really loved it and it made me think of @/re-colligere's design for Professor Terror, aka spy AU Fear, how his prosthetic arm is shaped like a neuron! I thought that was very clever, so I was inspired by that ovob Lastly, we have the concept art for the second movie and the character of Rebellion! They have similar shape language and I knew I wanted to give Panic a different fashion style from her parents. It resulted in an inspiration from street wear and traffic signs, signaling how Panic is slightly~ well dangerous XD

Personality wise, Panic is very calm surprisingly! They talk sparingly, only when they want a specific idea conveyed to others; this usually results in them intruding on conversations with really unsettling statements ^^""" They hang out under headquarters with the other complex emotions, usually just entertaining themselves, reading, playing, napping; I suggest you not do anything to... brutal? Or loud around them, they are very sensitive and if ANYTHING triggers them, THEY CAN SPEND A REALLY LONG TIME JUST YELLING until someone manages to calm them down. ^^"" The comfort blanket is a gift from auntie Ennui, I'll draw them with the rest of the fam later ^^

[thelovelyruin]

𝖇𝖚𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖒 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you wanted choso real bad, but did he want you too?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : (fem perspective of acquainted.) smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.5K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from bubblegum bitch by marina and the diamonds.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll.

“But Maiiii!”

“Don’t even think about it. You know you’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

“I won’t, I promise! He’s real cute, I could never do that to him.”

“You mean weird? I’ve only seen him talk to Yuuji, and that’s saying something.”

“Well, maybe he just needs a girlfriend! Ya know, a woman’s touch.”

“Babe, the second you try to touch to him, he’s gonna cum on himself.”

“That’s not bad, right? That just means he likes me!”

Mai scoffed and walked towards class, you following behind a puppy. You were a pretty girl, for sure. Always wearin’ sparkly lipgloss, your hair was always in a cute style but always down, had to show off your hoop earrings! You usually wore a little locket necklace, which had a little pic of Choso in it, but that’s really creepy, right? It sat on top of a pink shirt that you made sure your tits always looked great in, just in case he was lookin’. Then your miniskirt gave a sneak peek of your ass and your winter boots you lovedddd to wear with leggings that you were hoping he was getting an eyeful of. It was tough when you were in class with him; you raised your hand to answer a question, hoping he’d perk up at the sight of your new manicure. Sometimes, you’d wear a perfume that smelled like cake; you could tell he liked it; he’d always stutter when he walked past you, conveniently moving your hair so the scent would fly in the air towards him. Then there was your skin, always wearing a nice lotion so your legs looked smooth as you crossed them over one another or stood before the seminar to answer a question on the board. You usually ask someone to pick something up for you and never touched a door either; you pretty much knew it was because every guy wanted to fuck you, so you ran them around like your puppies, and they’d run back to you with a lollipop or something like that, which you made sure to suck real sexy when Choso was around, in case he ever wanted to be the lollipop.

It's not like you wanted him to pay attention or anything.

Don't care if you think I'm dumb; I don't care at all.

“Hey, Choso! What’s up?”

He obviously hadn’t heard you, so you put your hands on his desk in the library and squished your tits together, leaning over a bit to look at him. A little cleavage was always effective, right?

“Hello, earth to Choso, you there?”

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

You made sure to wear a really short skirt, which was totally cute, but every guy on campus was getting the wrong idea. You’d worn it to see Choso, which worked ‘cause he was looking at the little piece of your thong you’d left out for him to see. You just had to tease him a little.

“I said, “Hey, Choso! What’s up?””

“Oh, sorry. Not much, how about you?”

“Oh, nothin’; saw you were sittin’ alone and wanted to come say hi; that okay?”

That was such a shitty excuse. You really could’ve come up with something better, but it seemed to work anyway! He sat to the side of the seat, sitting his hand in the empty space.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, wanna take a seat?”

“Sure! So, whatcha workin' on?”

“Oh, I’m just studying for the statistics exam.”

“That class is super hard! I feel like I’m not getting any of it.”

Fuck, was he catching on yet? You really couldn’t think of another reason why you two would be alone; you couldn’t even convince your professors to let you work with him on a project.

“I could, um, tutor you if you want.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

You perked up, hand touching his arms, tits bouncing as you shifted towards him in the seat. You were so excited you could barely keep it together, but you had to act totally fine in case he was onto you. Which really, you wanted him on you.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Perfect, when are you free?

“Uh, I’m free after classes; what about you?”

Fuck, you had a lot to do. When did you get so busy?

“Hmm, well, I have a sorority meeting at six tomorrow, so that probably won’t work, but then, ooo, I have cheer practice on Thursday, ugh, and I can’t forget Nobara’s party on Friday!”

“So, Wednesday?”

“Perfect! We’d just have to do it after my nail appointment at 3.”

He looked at your nails. Was there something wrong with them? Maybe you should’ve pulled this charade afterward.

“I think your nails are nice like that?”

You were blushing now, bringing a hand out before you two.

“Ya think so? I was thinking of changing the color. I’ve changed my mind since last week.”

You got a call from Mai! Damn, you wish she wasn’t still upset with you. Happily, you answered it.

“Hey babe, what's up?”

“Not gonna believe it! Nobara got this big-ass AirBnb for this weekend. It’s totes cute; gonna look at it for our meeting tomorrow. Anyways, I gotta go, going shopping; I’ll send pics!”

You felt super bad; You’d interrupted your and Choso’s conversation to talk about sorority stuff. Hopefully, you didn’t annoy him.

“Sorry about that! She had to tell me about this crazy thing one of our sisters did.”

“Sisters?”

“Yeah, like in our sorority, silly! Anyways, gotta blast, but I enjoyed our chat!”

You pulled a pen out of your purse along with a piece of gum; after unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth, you grabbed Choso’s hand, writing down your phone number. 

“There ya go, put it in fast so it doesn’t wash off. Bye, cutie!”

With that, you walked away. He looked so cute, blushing all hard; hopefully, he texted you. You probably looked pretty dumb, but who cares? You were gonna spend some time with him, so your plans could get rollin’.

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored.

“YOU GAVE HIM YOUR NUMBER?”

“Yes, but it’s because he’s tutoring me!”

“So, you and him, alone. “Studying”.”

“Yes, Mai. “Studying”.”

“Bullshit, you’re gonna fuck him!”

“Am not! I have some self-control, ya know.”

When you told Mai about the exchange earlier, she was convinced you were making a bad decision.

“So then, what if he wants to fuck you? What happens to that self-control?”

“It gets thrown out the window, and I let him fuck my brains out, duh.”

Mai looked you up and down, giving you that look. You scoffed and lay on your bed; damn, you would be doing your statistics work if you actually knew what you were doing. A ring came from your phone, practically jumping at it.

“Hey. It’s Choso.”

You jumped around your room, squealing. He had actually texted you! Not that you didn’t think he would, but he was always super standoffish so he might’ve wiped it off. But nonetheless, you texted him back.

“haiiii <3 wednesday still good? :3”

“Yeah, what time?”

“let’s do 5, kay?”

“Sounds good.”

“yay! See you then :p.”

When Wednesday came around, you were super nervous all day. Mai teased you for it, saying there was nothing to worry about; you guys were only “studying.” You had seen him in class, but today, you gave him a wink as you walked by, hoping he’d like it. Fuck, you were such a klutz! Smoothie all over your shirt; not like that was such a bad thing. It meant you could change into something cuter, something that would really catch his attention! It made you super late, though. You felt so bad, showing up 15 minutes late, but you sucked it up and knocked on his door anyway. Choso opened the door for you, but you were still panting. God, get it together!

“I'm so sorry! I spilled my smoothie on my other top, so I had to change, then I ran over as fast as I could! You’re not too mad at me, are you?”

“You’re fine; come in.”

“Ooo, thanks!”

You walked into the room, giving him a smile, then bent over to set your purse and books, hoping he was pervy enough to get a view. You’d stayed down there for a while, giving him enough time to get a good look, then you got up and turned around, and he was blushing! Maybe he’d seen your lacy pink thong. But you weren’t thinking about fucking him, right?

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Uh, no…let’s get started.”

An hour passed, and you were shocked at your level of resolve. He was helping you this whole time, and all you could think about was the tent in his pants, wanting to take care of it. But you promised Mai you’d chill, so you did.

“All done! I think this is the best I’ve ever done! Thank you so so much!”

You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him in. You pulled back from him, still hugging him, as he looked down into your eyes. You let go and giggled, walking over to get on his bed, sitting back on your hands, legs slightly open as your chest poked out. Mai would probably be mad, but she’d have to understand, right? You just needed him, really bad.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Yeah?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What’s up?”

I'm the girl you'd die for.

As he approached you, you put your final fears to the side. You had full confidence he wanted you, and you were gonna act on it.

You opened your thighs to him, panty-clad pussy on full display.

Awe, he was so red! To be fair, you had just shown off your pussy to him, practically asking him to touch you there, and you were ready for it. You pulled him forward by his shirt, his face up to yours.

“That is, if you wanna.”

He dropped to his knees, positioning himself on the floor between your legs, both draped over his shoulders as he pulled you closer to him. You saw him get a good look at your thong; you knew you were soaked from being next to him for so long. He brought his hands up your legs; the feeling of his fingers made you shake all the way up to your hips, where he flipped your skirt up. He grabbed the edge of your panties, backing up to pull them down your legs. You opened up a little more for him, soaked pussy on full display, letting him spread your lips apart, precum dripping out of you. He was in shock, and it was so sexy. He looked like he was in love with just the sight of your pussy.

Choso brought his lips down to yours, lapping up all of your juices, then fucking his tongue into you. Damn, he felt so good! You started moaning his name and arching your back as you gripped his sheets. He brought his tongue to your clit, circling the bud slowly, and god it had you whimpering.

“Choso….”

You felt so fucking good. He brought his fingers up and slipped them inside you, making you groan loudly. You could tell this was probably his first time eating pussy, but when he curled his fingers, it felt soooo good and you just had to tell him!

“Fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

He pumped his fingers in and out of you as your body jerked, begging to cum. You were so blissed out, happy you were about to cum from his tongue. It came hard, fingers gripping his hair in a way so you could find some sort of stability. And fuck, as you came down, you rutted your pussy against his tongue, mouth still opened and eyes rolled back.He left you panting on his bed, half-naked, back still arched. As you began to come back to earth, you sat up on your hands again, pussy most likely staining the sheets, but it would be okay, right?

“Come here.”

You were serious now. You didn’t wanna be so harsh, but you were literally gonna die if you didn’t feel his dick inside you immediatley. You opened your legs so he could position himself between them, kissing him intensely now. He brought his hand up to your tits, groping them through the fabric of your shirt, pinching your nipple once he found it, you were getting so wet. He ruts his hips against yours, making you groan into his mouth. Fuck, he was so hot, you were gonna lose your-

I'll chew you up, and I'll spit you out.

Your phone fucking rang…and you knew it was Mai. With a pout, you walked over to his desk to grab your phone.You tried to act as normal as possible when you answered the phone, you couldn’t make it too obvious Choso just had a mouth full of pussy!

“Hey, hey!”

“Hey babe, emergency house meeting! Maki didn’t put in the order for the catering for rush next week, so everyone’s coming together to think of a back up. Need ya here, like yesterday!”

You were pouting now, tilting your head to the side as you talked to her.

“But Maiiii, I’m doing something super important!”

“Important, huh? Is that important thing fucking Choso? Either way, bring your ass over here before anyone gets suspicious.”

“Ugh, fine, but you owe me! See you in a bit.”

You hung up the phone and walked over to him, a sad look on your face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his chest.

“You gotta go?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to!”

“It’s fine. You should be ready for the test on Thursday.”

You bent over to pick up your purse and books again; hoping he’d really get a good look at you this time. You hadn’t put your panties back on, instead leaving them next to his bed for him to find later. You put your heels back on, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Bye, cutie!”

“Um, bye.”

It’s like you couldn’t get him out of your head; every time you tried to focus on the meeting, he was there. Before you laid down for bed, he texted you, letting you know you forgot them. Hmmmm, what should you say?

“oopsie :3 consider them a gift ;)”

'Cause that's what young love is all about.

So pull me closer…

“YOU DID WHAT?”

“Maiiii, please don’t be mad!”

“Let me get this straight, you fucked him?”

“No, yes, well, not exactly. I, you know…”

“Awe shit, you sucked his-”

“NO, MAI. Not that I wouldv’e been opposed to it.”

“So, what did you- Holy shit, he ate you out!”

You became flustered, you told her about your sexual encounters all the time, but it had been so long since you got any, plus she already thought Choso was weird.

“Yes, he ate me out.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Mai, I’m sorry! Like don’t be mad at me though, it felt really good and technically that was only second base, right? Or third? Either way I didn’t fuck him, yet.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s not like I don’t support you, but a guy like that? He probably came on himself.”

Now, you’d told Choso you were busy, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to see him again! You guys had seen each other around the halls; Thursday, you gave him a wink every time you saw him, and he’d return it with a blush and grin. But then, you realized he hadn’t texted you. Wouldn’t he wanna see you again? Especially if he enjoyed it as much as you think he did. You were nervous at this point. What if you were over-analyzing things? Just a quick fuck to get each other’s rocks off? Then, unfortunately, the thought came to mind that he probably just thought you were pretty and dumb, which hurt your feelings real bad. I mean, you couldn’t help it; spontaneous oral from the guy liked for months now. But, fuck, you missed him.

And kiss me hard!

The party could be heard down the street; it was pretty lit tbh, a large house with at least eight bedrooms, a pool and basketball court in the back, and balconies on almost every window. As you walked through the house, part of you wanted to find Choso and get a real answer as to why he had ghosted you. That was until a guy from your brother fraternity walked up to you.

You held a cup of punch, but what you were wearing was kinda flashy. You hadn’t bothered to wear a top, just your string bikini covering your tits, which to be fair, wasn’t doing a very good job of covering them up. Then there were your shorts; the underside of your ass on display, but when you and Mai picked them out, you bought ‘em just in case you saw him. You were leaning into the guy, trying to hear him over the speakers. He was kinda creepy. Obviously drunk as he tried to talk to you about some speed dating thing they were about to throw, and apparently you just needed to be there. You knew he was getting an eyeful; he couldn’t even make eye contact with you because he was too busy staring at your chest, which you wouldn’t be opposed to usually, but he wasn’t Choso, and tbh, he was the only one you wanted to look at you like that.

This dude made some shitty joke, you giggling to save face and not embarrass your sisters. That’s when you see Choso walking in your peripheral vision. OMG, he did come! But as happy as you were, he looked kinda pissed, or maybe you were trippin’? You gave him an awkward smile as you turned. That was until Choso grabbed your arm.

“Gonna borrow her right quick.”

What the fuck was he doing? Choso led you up the stairs as you rushed to keep up, spilling your drink a bit. He looked for an empty bedroom, walked you into it, and locked it behind him. What was his deal?

“Choso, what the actual fuck?”

“What are you doing, huh?”

“What am I doing? What am I doing? Motherfucker, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you haven’t talked to me in days. Then you pull me in here, like I’m the bad guy or something, fuck, did eating me out mean anything to you?”

“Of course it did! I haven’t texted you because I wanted to give you space!”

“I could’ve made time for you! I don’t wanna hear your shitty excuses as to-”

I'm gonna pop your bubblegum heart.

Your sentence was cut short by Choso pulling you into a kiss. Some nerve he had, not talking to you for days, then coming up like he owned you or something. You were fucking mad at him, sure, but you wanted to fuck him more than anything. So, you let him lay you on the bed behind you, mouth coming to kiss you, even deeper this time. He pulled back to undo your top, allowing your tits free, ready to go to town.

“So, who the fuck was that?”

He brought his lips down to your nipple, sucking it as you moaned softly. He was totally killing the vibe.

“A friend, what are you, jealous?”

He sucked the other one, massaging your tits as you watched him. You knew he was, like why else would he be asking? That kinda made you feel good though, he was willing to put up a little fight for ya, huh?

“Depends.”

“On?”

Choso began to move his way down, sucking the skin of your stomach as he brought his hands down to hook into your shorts. He had them down to your ankles, pulling them off of you, you were so fucking excited, as pissed as he was, his mood was real cute.

“I’m your friend too, no?”

“Something like that.”

He undid the strings on your bikini, throwing them somewhere in the room. He brought his face down to you, kissing your inner thighs to tease you.

“You let all your friends eat your pussy?”

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips.

You couldn’t answer his question, body reacting to the kitten licks he was giving your clit. You really liked it when he fucked you with his tongue, and you were practically in love when he pressed his tongue harder on our bud. You missed the feeling of your pre-cum on his lips, but it was cut short when he pulled his face back, teasing you.

“Answer me, princess.”

“No, I don't.”

It’s like something woke up inside of him. His face was back on you, fucking his tongue into you as he pinned your hips down, watching you squirm from the pleasure. The pleasure you never wanted to stop.

Choso picked up the pace of his tongue, his fingers finding their way to your pussy, curling them as he sucked on your clit. One hand still on your hips to keep you still; it’s not like it really mattered though, ‘cause you came real hard. You bucked your hips into his touch, moaning his name as you let him suck you through your high. He pulled up to look at you, smirking as he started drinking your cum, thumb on your clit. You were on fucking fire, still recovering from before, and now he was bringing you up to his face. He pinned you down, devouring you instantly.

He’d brought his hands up to rub your nipples between his fingers while you fucked his face. You didn’t know where all this nerve came from, presumably because he’s made you cum twice now, the third one about to join. But you honestly didn’t give a fuck. If he had the balls to eat you as good as he was doing, you could care less. Because his tongue was just too damn distracting. You began to grind your pussy on his face, not even considering his ability to breathe; it’s not like he was concerned about it. You were moaning his name lover and over, he pulled them out of you more frequently as you felt your body giving in again.

“Choso, I’m, I, fuck!”

Hit me with your sweet love…

Fuck, he was so good. You couldn’t help but fall over as he kissed you, soft and sweet. With a careful hand, he brought your leg up, pulling it away from the other so he could get in between them. Your body was practically begging him, waitin’ so long for his touch. As he began removing his clothes, he continued this little conversation. It was really pissing you off.

“Hm, that doesn’t make sense then, does it?”

“You’re more than a friend, Choso.”

At this point, he’d taken everything but his boxers off, bringing his body back up to sit on top of yours. He kissed you as he fingered your pussy again, making you squirm under his touch, he was making you feel a lot of things you hadn’t really felt before, definitely more than your vibrator had done. He brought your cum out of your pussy, rubbing it over his dick as he looked down at you.

“More than a friend, huh?”

Choso kissed your neck as he slid his dick in, holding your hips as he rolled his into yours. He was painfully slow, pulling out to sink back in. Fuck, it was torture.

“Yes, Choso! Now fuck me, please!”

“No problem.”

He slammed his hips into yours, you couldn’t hlp but groan his name, making him grip you tightly as he fucked you, forehead meeting yours so he could look you in your eyes.

 “When was the last time you got fucked?”

“Months ago.”

“So, you decided you just wanted me to eat your pussy one day?”

He began that slow pace again, what was he a fucking detective? You decided to just tell him the truth, hopefully then he’d shut the fuck up.

“No, I liked you for a while! Thought you didn’t like me ‘til I met you in the library!”

Guess that satisfied him, ‘cause he hit that sweet spot inside you as you moved your hips to meet his, hands brushing through his hair as he gave it to you right where you needed him. You pressed your tits against his chest as he fucked you into the bed, practically screaming his name every time he’d give you a hard thrust.

“I want you, princess.”

To be fair, you hadn’t really entertained any of the guys who wanted you; they’d just ogle you, but you wanted someone who’d claim you. Make you his. And Choso was doing it. He fucked you like no one had ever done before, sucking hickeys all over you that you were sure you didn’t have enough concealer to cover up. Then, there was the way he’d moan into your ear. Sometimes your name, but mostly baby, princess, beautiful. He was taking you higher and higher, and you didn’t wanna come down.

“Then, I’m yours.”

Steal me with a kiss.

That made him feral. He fucked you faster, keeping your hips still so he could fuck you how you needed it. Your body was practically begging to cum again, all but throwing yourself at him. Finally, you came, gripping his shoulders as you moaned his name into the room, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open as you came for the third time that night. You honestly didn’t know you had it in you; he was right behind you, gripping the headboard as he fucked you through his orgasm, whimpering your name as he fell to pieces inside you, your hands just falling to your side, too fucked out to move.

I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch….

Choso fell beside you and looked over; you were pretty damn tired; he made you cum over and over again, like a song on repeat. He’d helped you put your clothes back on, carrying you down the stairs and out to his car, getting you in it and starting it.

“Ima take ya home, okay?”

You perked up a little, grabbing his arm and wrapping around it. No way you were going home! Why’d you wanna go back there when you could sleep with your boyfriend?

“Wanna go home with you!”

“Whatever ya want, princess.”

He gripped your thigh as he drove off, returning to his dorm. He carried you to his room, helping you get into one of his t-shirts, such a good guy, makin’ you feel all safe. Both of you in the bed, he pulled you into his chest as you got comfortable. You look up at him, smiling a bit as you yawn.

“Night, baby!”

You kissed him quickly and laid back down, drifting off to sleep.

Consider this mission complete ;)

I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch!

♱ the song used in this story is bubblegum bitch by marina and the diamonds. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

You know when you read a fic and love it so much that you want to find one exactly like it but different. Anyways, more Alternate Universe fics.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

These first few fics are all by elanev91 on ao3 (ao3 account required).

Force of Habit

Lily's been riding the same train back and forth to work for the last two and a half years and lowkey fancies the guy who sits one row up from her usual seat.

TW: parent death discussed

The fic that inspired the intro (I love it so much you don't understand)

Waffle Wars

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

every day I like you a little mower

Lily was JUST trying to be a good daughter and help her father with his yard work. Too bad the bloke next door is always outside and also the most annoyingly talkative person on the planet.

we could be gigantic series

Lily and James have been best friends since they were kids. Uni, a band, a trip abroad, a few tours and a couple of albums later, things start to change. Half an email fic, half a regular ol' narrative.

it wasn't a pity invite

Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omg i’m so sorry

The one where they’re both doctors - also Northern Irish Lily.

One Direction on the A4

James and Lily are having quite the morning. James thinks a little nonsense might fix it. Or James is a dork and Lily loves it.

Ye Olde Smut Fic

Student recruitment fairs suck, but never fear -- Professor Evans and Professor Potter have figured out how to make it a little less annoying.

Professor AU, Modern AU, Muggle AU. Smutty ridiculousness. Plot questionable.

The tragedy is that they live in America

The Yeast I Can Do

Dr Lily Evans had an absolute shit day at work. Luckily, there's a bakery nearby that offers a course that she hopes will take her mind off of things.

For my fellow jily & wolfstar enjoyers, go do yourself a favour and check out their other works on ao3.

Teenage Kicks by @arianatwycross

It all starts with Lily being hired to be the bands tour photographer, then she actually meets the band and she quickly becomes absorbed by their fast lifestyle, their pranks and the hot lead singer. But its not exactly simple to be crushing on a famous Rockstar, is it?

Foam Hearts by Sleepinghookah (on ao3)

Coffee shop AU. A story in which James and Lily are blind - both in entirely different ways.

I promise he's not a bad person. You've got to read till the end and it'll make sense

When The Skies Are Gray by @athenasparrow

“Carry me?” Lily scoffed, biting her lip so she wouldn’t laugh in his face. Because he was about to do something nice for her. “I’m not some damsel in distress who can’t walk! I just need a bit of cover to make it to the tube.”

OR: two strangers, one umbrella, and a little bit of fate.

Tranquil Solitude (Until You Came Along) by @thelighthousestale

Prompt: I thought I went skinny dipping alone but oh my god this beautiful human is also here naked and I am a fool

All Lily wanted to do was take a nice, quiet swim on a hot day. And then James Potter showed up. And Lily had already removed her clothes for the private swim.

it would have been sweet by @firefeufuego

‘Lily,’ he says in her ear, voice slurred and barely audible above the pulsing bass of the music, ‘is there a reason I shouldn’t marry her?’

She can taste the truth bittersweet on her tongue: Yes of course there is, you colossal, darling idiot, you’re meant to be mine. But there’s the ring on Charlotte’s finger and there’s the one Lily found in Eddie’s sock drawer, and how can she be this person? The one who steals someone’s fiancé on his stag night? That’s not who she is, that won’t be who she is. ‘Of course not, James. You’ll make each other so happy.’ She nearly chokes on the lie as it leaves her mouth, all the more so because most of it isn’t even a lie at all.

For my second chance romance girls

This Hope is Treacherous by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily Evans and James Potter: Aquentiences, Academic rivals, and now, Friends.

Except "friends" doesn't exactly feel right but Lily's too scared to do anything about it. But as James and her keep acting like more-than-friends she's unraveling with the uncertainty of it all.

OR: Choosing to fall in love can be just as thrilling and terrifying as love at first sight.

The Viscount's Daughter by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The beautiful, vivacious, and decidedly redheaded daughter of the 16th Viscount of Rowena has stolen the heart of young Prince James. Trouble is, she couldn't be less interested in him.

Thought it was abandoned but the author posted a snippet recently so maybe not?

The Queen of the Quills - Jily Edition by @elliemarchetti 

Lily and Petunia read the Queen of the Quills' latest column on James Potter, while the bachelor announces to his friends that he intends to get married.

Quest for Camelot by the incredible @petalsthefish

After the legendary Excalibur sword is stolen, Lily and James embark on a quest to retrieve the lost weapon. Lily searches for the sword to prove she is capable of being a knight despite being a girl. James searches because his falcon, Marlene, is desperate to find it for her master, Merlin. Along the way, they attempt to outwit the sinister Ruber, navigate through magical obstacles, decode puzzling prophecies, and uncover surprising similarities between themselves.

As their journey progresses, they both cannot deny the feelings growing between them with each passing day. Will they make it out of the quest alive, or will one of them perish in the ever-growing darkness that threatens to swallow the entire realm if Ruber gets his hands on the sword?

Based on the 1998 movie Quest for Camelot, but with more plot and less singing

Fearlessly Red also by @ /petalsthefish

Red. It was such an interesting color to correlate with emotion because it was on both ends of the spectrum. On one end there was happiness, falling in love, passion, all that. On the other end was jealousy, fear and frustration. Maybe that's why James thought the nickname fit Lily so well.

or Bodyguard!James/Celebrity!Lily

Get A Room bt @chierafied

The long-awaited trip to London goes awry when Marlene chooses to spend time with her boyfriend - forcing Lily to share their room with none other than James Potter.

you don't know me (but I know you) by @emeralddoeadeer

Lily has a crush, she knows his face well but can only imagine his name; until they meet that is.

About Time by heartablaze (on ao3)

Before his final year started, James Potter offered to be a resident advisor for a first-year dorm. What he didn’t count on was dealing with a confusing redhead across the hall, hospital visits, hallway parties and writing his thesis the night before it was due. Blimey. (Muggle Uni AU)

Unexpectedly in Love by jamespotters_exgirlfriend (on ao3)

When Lily Evans entered her final year of uni, she certainly didn’t expect to fall in love with James Potter. And well, let’s just say love isn’t the only unexpected thing to come out of their relationship.

Far Post by @eastwindmlk

James Potter and his friends are very serious about their pub football league. So, when the new roster comes out and there is a new team on there, an all women's team, he and Sirius set out to investigate.

You Know How To Ball, I Know Aristotle by @wearingaberetinparis

Now that the global superstar, Grammy-winning singer-songwriter Lily Evans and professional football player James Potter are together, they have to juggle the difficulties of a relationship in the public eye. Fresh off her World Tour, Lily Evans arrives at Wembley Stadium one year after James Potter first attended her show, to perform there for one final weekend before heading to the studio to record her next album. Her boyfriend, in the meantime, is off to Germany to play at the Euros for England. How will they ever make their relationship work when Lily is - so the press loves to imply - the least supportive WAG of the tournament?

sequal to And You Heard About Me (Ooh, We’ve Got Some Big Enemies!)

It's been a long time coming and it did not disappoint

I've recommended Three Swipes, You're Out by @naireides before, but I recently came across it's sequel making spirits bright

Sports star James Potter tries to pick Lily up on tinder. Lily Evans, a dedicated not sports fan is offended by the idea that someone thinks she wouldn't recognize James Potter's face. She laughs about it with her friends at a bar, until James Potter, who also frequents that bar, comes over to clarify that nope, he's on tinder, and he's definitely hitting on her.

...

She should have expected it to be hard, dating a celebrity, but somehow she and James make it work.

[pianokantzart]

Seeing @keakruiser making AUs in a bullet point storytelling format inspired me to take a crack at my own AU that I've been thinking about for a bit. What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? Essentially The Super Mario Bros Movie, but with the brothers' roles reversed. So, without further ado...

The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 ________

The beginning is much the same as it was in the original Super Mario Bros. Movie until they are separated in the warp pipe, with two exceptions: 1. When their van breaks down, Luigi's first instinct is to take the tool kit and try to fix the motor (mechanic Luigi, my beloved). But before he can get a good look, Mario insists that there's not enough time, and heads to the job on foot. Luigi closes the hood of the van and follows him. 2. After Mario leaves the dinner table, the focus goes to Luigi's conversation with his dad rather than Mario holed up in his room.

"What did I say?" "''You're bringing your brother down with you'?" Luigi asks, finally able to get a word in now that his uncles have shut up. "Why would you say that?" "Luigi, be honest. How much did that commercial cost? How many new clients has it gotten you? Huh?" "It's only been a day! And Mario'll figure something out. He always does." Luigi insists, taking his brother's plate of pasta and picking it free of mushrooms. "I just want to help him out along the way."

Pio sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't hide in your brother's shadow your entire life, Luigi. One of these days you're gonna have to man up and start making your own decisions." Luigi doesn't answer, he simply finishes removing the mushrooms from Mario's plate, and gets up from the table to deliver the food to his despondent brother.

After Mario and Luigi attempt to save Brooklyn, after they end up in the warp zone, and after they are ripped from each-other's grasp, Mario is dragged into an unsettling looking pipe surrounded by purple smoke and overgrown with gnarled branches.

Luigi flies onward, emerging from a pipe inside what looks to be another sewer, not too different from the one back in New York. No sooner does he regain his senses does he find himself dragged away by a powerful blast of suction. Flying backwards through the air, he stops suddenly as his back clogs the nozzle of a strange vacuum-like contraption being carried by a little old man.

"Oops! Sorry, Sonny! I thought for certain you were gonna be a ghost!" the old man apologizes, releasing Luigi from the vacuum's suction with a flip of a switch. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device that loosely resembles a hand-held vidoegame console, reexamining the numbers flashing on the screen. "When my readings showed that pipe 983 had suddenly reactivated, I thought for sure King Boo was trying to use it to send his band of ghosts to Sarasaland!"

Before Luigi could ask one of the thousands of questions on his mind, the old man introduces himself: Professor Elvin Gadd (E. Gadd for short.)

Luigi introduces himself in return, then asks about his brother. He tells the professor about their situation in detail, describing the warp pipe that Mario had disappeared into.

E. Gadd tsks sadly and shakes his head. He explains that particular pipe leads to "Evershade Valley," and though the valley used to be perfectly habitable, ever since King Boo shattered The Dark Moon nobody who has set foot in that land has ever returned.

"Wait, what do you mean? Who's King Boo?" Luigi asks "Well! You truly are out of the loop!" E-Gadd chuckles, "Then again... I remember how little I knew when I first arrived in this world." He continues to talk while leading Luigi through the underground, casually clearing a path for them with the powerful blowing and sucking functions of the vacuum. "King Boo is nothing less than the lord of ghosts! He is the master of illusions, the reigning tyrant of the undead, the loather of all living flesh, and– at the moment– the sole ruler of Evershade Valley."

This description unsettles Luigi. He retorts that if that's the case, he has to get to Evershade Valley as soon as possible. As frightened as he is, he's never been so frightened that he couldn't help his brother out of a tough spot, and he knows Mario would do the same for him in a heartbeat.

"Well! In that case I suggest you stick with me for a bit. And keep those tools with you." The old scientist gestures toward the tool bag Luigi had dropped on the ground in the mayhem, "I may have a few uses for them."

Just as Luigi comes to the question of where they are currently, Professor E. Gadd opens a sewer cover and leads him out into the middle of a big bustling coastal city in Sarasaland. Think the Daisy Circuit from Mario Kart, but way larger and more crowded (and missing the romantic statue of course.)

Luigi struggles to keep up with the elderly scientist, who weaves his way effortlessly through throngs of turtle men, snake monsters, insect soldiers, giant sentient heads made out of stone, and a vast array of other strange and fascinating pedestrians.

"Stop your dilly-dallying, youngster!" E. Gadd eventually calls, getting fed up with Luigi's slow, bewildered pace, "I've got a meeting in The Birabuto Kingdom, and my train– our train– leaves in fifteen minutes!" "Birabuto Kingdom?" Luigi asks, allowing himself to be shoved along, "What's that? What about Evershade Valley?" "So impatient! Do you think I'd send you into such a place unprepared??? No no, first I'm going to perfect my equipment, then I'll help you find your brother."

E. Gadd purchases their tickets and they board the crowded 64 Express. Once seated, Luigi's eyes are immediately drawn toward the window. He stares out, deep in anxious thought as the train chugs along, traveling from the coastal city into a desert landscape.

Then, we switch over to Mario. Standing up and dusting himself off, he looks around to find himself in the gloomiest place he'd ever seen... for the little he is able to see. There is a thick purple mist hanging in the air, and the path before him is shrouded in the branches of a forest long dead.

Loudly calling out his brother's name on the off-chance he was somewhere nearby, Mario follows a light in the distance until he stumbles across a lone boo. More confused than frightened, and feeling a little sorry for the white specter shyly covering its face, Mario bends down for a moment to examine it, assuring "hey, don't worry! I won't hurt you, I'm just a little lost is all."

Suddenly, he is ambushed by a colorful trio of ghosts: a greenie, a slammer, and a hider. He tries to fight back, but every time he attempts to shove them off or swing his fists he phases right through them.

His attackers knock him around a bit until Mario succeeds in slipping away. Now in a panic, he continues rushing toward the distant light, far faster and more recklessly than before.

Eventually, he gets close enough to discover the glow was coming from the lit windows of an old mansion. He enters and – for the little good it will do – shuts the door behind him.

He wanders the halls for a long time, roaming from room to empty room, all the while haunted by the shadow of something following him. Something big.

At last, he reaches a towering portrait room. Unlike the rest of the mansion it is teeming with life, full of frightened faces pressed against picture frames, begging for help.

Mario is frozen in a moment of fear and confusion, but quickly snaps out of it. He rushes to the nearest portrait– an image of a strange little mushroom man– to ask what is wrong and what he can do.

Before the toad can give a coherent answer, the eerie presence that Mario had felt when he first entered the mansion casts a looming shadow over him.

He turns around and raises his fists in helpless hopes of defending himself. The candles of the surrounding sconces go out all at once, and in the pitch black darkness a cacophony of cackles fills the air....

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

what are thee best drarry fics to read in this day and age? I've not read any for a few years and I don't know what's good 🤔

what an incredibly flattering question! i do not know what your tastes run to, but here are a few of my recentish favorites in no particular order. i think these are all m or e, as that tends to be what i go for. they're also properly adults, well out of hogwarts, and the stories are sort of mid length, over 10K, under 100K. make sure you read the tags!

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet coming in hot!!!! i feel like this is a very very profoundly drarry story. we are fucked up in some of the same ways so let's do weird sex about it. dark, weird, very tender. incredible atmosphere. loved it!!!

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites this is like an AU hopping fic where draco is on the run for Reasons, and harry is chasing him. not with state violence in his heart. please come home. EXQUISITE worldbuilding, one of my favorite things about Tee's fics. This fic is so fun and there are also some really heartwrenching moments that i won't even come close to spoiling. god i love it it's so fucking good

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart this fic is orphaned but i actually do know the author very well (and love him with all my heart). this is an amazing draco. he's dealing with some significant trauma on top of what he went through in canon. all i'm gonna say is werewolf draco cinematic universe my beloved. i love this harry, too. compulsively doing the right thing even as it fucks his whole life up. yum.

Home Truths another @skeptiquewrites fic bc Tee's writing got me WEAK. i rlly love the ensemble here!!! harry and draco are both amazing characters whom i adore, but they are also surrounded by other characters who feel so real and so lived in. wonderful worldbuilding as per usual w this author. and. harry is a pro athlete at the peak of his career so uh. he do be inhabiting his physical form. it's sexy okay. damn. Tee has a talent for capturing Draco's drama and prissiness without making him feel like a caricature. i found this story genuinely inspiring for lots of reasons, and i can't say enough good things about it.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo (this one is locked to the archive, so you'll need to be logged in to read it) god i love this story!!! food as a love language? gender magic? fucking YES PLEASE. it's nice to see them get out of the typical Stately Homes backdrop (i enjoy that too, but. well i'm not going to go off on a tangent about it now. variety is the spice of life!). lots of sensuality here and a heaping dollop of straight up fucking. i just love this depiction of them. i love draco's offers of vulnerability and harry's diving in face first. LOVE.

A Gift of True Esteem by ME! i am big enough to acknowledge that i write fucking good fic okay!!! hogwarts professors, chronic illness, historiography, gratuitous use of patronuses, fun world building in general. harry has been self-isolating a little bit. burying himself in his work. he has to let himself feel things again. joy, love, pleasure. draco makes him want to.

Names for a House this is also by me bc it's my fuckn list and i do what i want!!! harry is raising teddy lupin after andromeda gets sick (don't worry i do not kill off any old ladies in this fic). harry is also the wizarding world's first novelist. teddy lupin is a budding werewolf about to go off to hogwarts, and harry is not sure how to do right by him. FORTUNATELY harry's erstwhile nemesis and current cursebreaker is also a werewolf and teddy's cousin, and he's more than willing to help out.

[valeriianz]

Model Student

nearly 4k of PWP crazy inspired by this and THIS super steamy art by @abyssalcryptid that seized me by the back of the neck and wouldn't let go until i caved and ;akgjkafhgaghj

CW: human au, trans Dream, words 'cunt', 'clit', and 'hole' used for Dream's bits, student/teacher relations, age gap, consenting adults, oral sex, penis-in-vagina sex.

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

“Hey, professor?”

“Hm?” 

Hob looks up from the paperwork he’d been pouring over, finding Dream Endeleas standing at the entrance to his office, and immediately forgets where he is.

Dream is leaning– draping– himself on the door frame, wearing a tiny black short sleeve button down that looks two sizes too small, tied around his firm stomach, the buttons open and revealing a lacy bra underneath. Hanging low on his hips is a dark, plaid skirt plucked straight out of a school-girl porno, and– Hob swallows roughly as his eyes trail further– stockings that travel for miles down Dream’s legs to the cute pumps on his feet.

Hob’s mouth hangs open, panting by the time he looks up again, struck down by the slow smirk Dream’s face splits into.

“Fuck me?”

Reality slams back into Hob and he vaults from his chair, causing it to roll backwards as he stomps around his desk.

“Dream!” Hob hisses, not missing the devious way the student’s eyes narrow as he casually side-steps Hob on his way to look out into the hallway before all but slamming the door shut.

“Can you not? With the door wide open?” Hob pulls the little curtain down over the window and, for good measure, flicks the lock secure.

“Something wrong?” Dream asks, coy, his low voice cutting straight through Hob.

Hob huffs, casting his eyes heavenward, praying for patience… before looking back at Dream, the devious spark in his eyes, the way his fingers lazily drag up his thighs all the way up to the lines of his stomach and dipping in between the folds of the blouse to touch the black lace hidden beneath. He arches off the wall, back bending like a bow, all while staring intently at Hob.

Hob knows no one in heaven is listening to him. He didn’t deserve any kind of holy interference for what he was doing with his student. If anything, he would be entitled to some righteous judgment.

They had been sneaking around for a while, ever since Dream came by during office hours, maybe three weeks into the semester, and unashamedly– determination flashing behind his eyes– crawled onto Hob’s desk and grabbed him by the face for their first kiss.

Hob had a feeling his student had a little crush on him, day one, if the heated glances during lecture were anything to go by. Or the way Dream would always sit in the first row, legs sprawled out wide– in jeans or a skirt– sticking the end of his pencil in his mouth, blue eyes sharp and confident and so… so alluring. 

He was a good student too, one of the best in the class. Hob had no idea how Dream managed to pay attention to the material when he himself would lose his train of thought constantly, being in the same room with the man who was ten years his junior.

Dream could see it too, surely, the way Hob would stutter or blush in his presence. Hob could always tell when a student liked him a little too much. Could see the way freshman girls would bat their eyelashes or curl their hair behind their ear with a cute smile during talks of homework or asking Hob personal questions. It wasn’t something new, and Hob was good about keeping it strictly professional and never reciprocating, even on accident.

But there was something about Dream that refused to take no for an answer. He was persistent… though he was never pushy, not in a creepy way. And unfortunately, Hob liked Dream, too. He was smitten since the student first walked into his third year lecture hall and barely made an effort to keep his interest at bay.

And, inevitably, Dream began to see the way Hob barely held himself back, leaning into Dream’s advances little by little; standing too close after all the other students had left and Dream would approach him after class, a question on his tongue that Hob knew Dream had the answer to already. Giving his smile with more and more frequency to Dream’s awful jokes and attempts at flirting… never dissuading them– but also not encouraging, just letting it be. Soon Hob found himself eagerly awaiting their alone time, even if for a moment. Finding each other at the campus cafe and naturally sitting down together to talk. That eventually moved onto meeting up off-campus, under the pretense to discuss, say, internships or Dream’s ambitions for the future… which would always devolve into personal life and get Hob talking about himself more freely.

It was a little terrifying, Hob had to admit, sleeping with a student (or were they dating?). He was putting his job on the line– his reputation– but fuck, it was so worth it. And Hob would be lying if he didn’t admit to how all the sneaking around only amplified the sex. The forbiddance of it all. Dream got a kick out of it too, Hob knew. Smug satisfaction written all over his face after each successful affair. Even playing up their roles in the bedroom and full on calling Hob “professor” instead of his name and teasing about how he could get some “extra credit.” It was ridiculous and depraved– Hob had never felt so alive, never felt like this before– falling into bed with his own student.

Despite how physical their relationship was, Hob couldn’t deny the other chemistry between them, how they’d connected emotionally– more than what happened behind closed doors. Hob felt himself looking forward to even the mundane dates with Dream, learning about his family, what his favorite food was, charmed in the way Dream would steal Hob’s clothes in the morning and wake up first to make terrible coffee. It would probably be easier if their trysts were purely physical… but Hob knew this was turning into something he couldn’t control. His heart getting in the way, as usual.

They’ve never done more than kiss in Hob’s office, though. It felt especially dangerous to fool around on campus grounds. Most of their nights spent in intimacy were at Hob’s house, sprawling Dream onto his king size bed and fucking him so hard he’d come into class the next day with a limp.

Now, however, Hob has to wonder if he’d been too lenient with Dream. Too indulgent. What else would prompt him to arrive in his office like this? Shameless and almost uncaring of anyone around.

“What if someone heard you?” Hob asks after picking his jaw off the floor.

“No one did.” Dream says simply, stepping up to Hob and tugging on his tie, his eyes low, considering. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Didn’t sound much like a question to me.” Hob feels a grin stretch across his face despite himself.

“Mm… it wasn’t.” Dream looks up at Hob, eyes dark and wicked. His smirk sharpens as he wanders over to Hob’s desk, turning and leaning back against it.

“Come here.”

Hob swallows, and knows his fate is sealed. He can only obey, walking up to Dream as if in a daze, his eyes never leaving those crystalline blues.

Once in front of him, Dream takes off Hob’s glasses, folds them, and sets them off to the side before reaching up to kiss him. Hob gets his hands on Dream as he kisses back, matching his energy, resting them on his narrow hips and sliding them up. He gets his fingers around the knot of the blouse, working it open, his hands dipping past the fabric over his flat chest once it falls open, thumbs brushing his nipples through the lace bra.

Dream hums in satisfaction, the gorgeous purr pouring down Hob’s throat and encouraging him to push the shirt completely off.

Once the blouse hits the floor, Dream takes Hob’s hand and shoves it under his skirt.

“Oh, fuck,” Hob moans into Dream’s mouth, his hand automatically moving against the velvety warm folds of Dream’s cunt through the mesh of the stockings he wore. 

“You feel that? How wet I am for you?” Dream breathes. Their lips brush together, hot and teasing and making Hob’s head spin.

Hob presses harder, his palm rubbing and catching the friction of the material against it. Dream throws his head back with a bitten off groan, bucking up into the sensation.

Hob almost blacks out thinking about how Dream walked up here, crossing the quad, wearing nothing under this skirt but air– this flimsy excuse for fabric– dripping slick on his way to him. Leaking down his thighs and– fuck, it turns Hob on so bad. Dream knows exactly how to wind him up and it drives Hob crazy.

Hob watches– enraptured– Dream’s face as he slides his middle finger roughly into Dream’s sopping wet hole, not getting far against the tight stockings, while closing the remaining distance between them so Dream can wrap his arms around him, hiking a knee up and hooking it around Hob’s waist, thrusting inelegantly against his hand.

With his free hand, Hob takes Dream’s face, pulling him into another sloppy kiss that is mostly teeth and tongue. Hob groans, frustration coating his tone– with the sudden urge to taste him. The scent of Dream’s sex is wafting in the air between them and it’s making Hob delirious, all his focus narrowing into one singular need.

Without warning, Hob breaks off, their lips separating with a lewd smacking noise, and dropping to his knees. Dream’s protest at losing Hob’s warmth transitions to a low sound of approval as Hob plunges his face under the skirt.

Hob hears the sound of Dream’s hand slapping over his mouth, muffling his own cries of pleasure while Hob latches his mouth over the rough material of the stockings. He lays his tongue flat and grabs onto Dream’s ass, encouraging his thrusts against his face. Hob moans long and low as the scent and taste of Dream fill his every sense, closing his eyes and working his jaw and tongue exactly how he knows Dream likes. 

It’s exquisite, Hob could stay here for hours, eating Dream out. The helpless mewls that tumble past Dream’s lips encourage Hob to feast, taking what he can manage without actually getting his mouth directly where he wants it most. The thin fabric adds a delicious friction that is almost painful on Hob’s tongue, swapping between licking and sucking before he growls and bites at the mesh gently, tugging it away from Dream’s body.

“Rip it,” Dream pants, he sounds a wreck and Hob’s barely gotten started. His fingers in Hob’s hair tighten with no intention to release him.

Hob pulls the fabric again to rip a hole with his teeth, the sound of the material tearing tickles Hob’s ears. It sends goosebumps down Hob’s arms before immediately plunging his tongue inside the velvety wet heat of Dream and– yes, this is exactly what he needed, what they both needed. 

Dream howls, muffled behind his hand, and gets a leg up over Hob’s shoulder, pitching his hips forward again and again. Chasing his pleasure and wiping Hob’s brain clean of anything except Dream, Dream, Dream.

Hob gets a hand up, trailing the underside of Dream’s thigh up to his ass and gropes, pulling him with more force against his face until he knows he’s gonna have a bruise on his nose tomorrow. He can hardly breathe, but he’s moaning in delight at the absolutely unrestrained way Dream selfishly takes and takes, fucking Hob’s face with reckless abandon, getting faster and faster, more uncoordinated until–

Dream comes with a long, low wine, his hips stuttering with it and Hob unlatches his jaw to catch all the slick in his mouth, humming pleasantly, like he’s just taken a bite from an extravagant meal.

But Hob doesn’t relish in the taste for long, his own cock is throbbing in his pants and after thoroughly licking Dream out– sensing Dream’s thighs shake from the stimulation– he stands up, grabs Dream by the jaw, and kisses him. Hard and messy and Dream licks inside of his mouth like he intends to crawl inside. 

“Fuck me,” Dream reminds Hob in a puff of hot air, and Hob is all to willing to give him exactly what he wants.

Hob leans past Dream to swipe an arm over his desk, pushing things– inconsequential really– off and onto the floor in a loud clatter.

He doesn’t miss the fucked out, satisfied smirk on Dream’s face before Hob then turns him around, one hand flat on Dream’s back to push him down onto the desk. Dream goes willingly, pliant and with a breathy “Oh, yes…” muffled against the polished wood. Keeping his hand on Dream’s lower back, Hob struggles unbuckling his belt with wet, slippery fingers. 

Dream’s ass wiggles temptingly before him, distracting Hob enough to get his hand under that sinfully short skirt and fondle the flesh there, spreading one cheek out and pushing his thumb against the tight material of the stockings to get at Dream’s asshole.

Dream arches his back and pushes into Hob’s hold with a soft whine that goes straight to Hob’s cock. He’d love to fuck Dream’s ass. He presents it so willingly… but Hob is too impatient for prep. And with Dream’s cunt already slick and loose– Hob’s mind is made up.

His fingers trail down to the small slit in the stockings and tear it wider, so Dream’s entire sex is exposed, all the way up to his pretty asshole. Hob hears Dream hum in delight as he pushes his hips back expectantly.

Hob finally manages to get his cock out, his pants barely hanging onto his hips, and gives it a few strokes to take the edge off.

Dream is panting beneath him, spreading his legs, his ass out and god– Hob is obsessed. He’s probably in love too but he’s not going to think about that.

Hob slots his pelvis flush against Dream’s rear, slipping his erection in between the scant flesh there and breathes deeply, taking a moment to look down at the vision before him. Dream’s strong shoulders and slim back, the bra still hooked on with one strap threatening to slip free. His elbows bent at his sides, anticipation clear in his posture and the way his ass pushes now against Hob’s throbbing member, becoming impatient.

“Hob…” Dream’s protest is breathy, probably not as commanding as he’d anticipated but it makes Hob smile all the same, one hand roaming up Dream’s back and down again, resting his hold once more on his rear.

He gets in cock in the other hand and lines himself up with Dream’s soaked hole, almost glistening, sliding into Dream in one long, slow glide, moaning in relief and agony, because Dream is so deliriously tight.

“Fuck, baby…”

“Move,” Dream demands, but his voice sounds broken, desperate.

“So needy…” Hob grunts, sliding out and relishing in the leisurely drag. He starts at a slow pace, biting down another moan that bubbles up from his throat. “Fuck you feel incredible. You dressed like this for me?”

“Do you like it?” Dream looks over his shoulder and Hob gasps at how Dream already looks so debauched. “I was going to surprise you in class with it first– ah!” Hob smirks at the cry, having given in momentarily with a hard thrust. “But I couldn't wait that long.”

“You little shit,” Hob pants, picking up the pace. His hands are tight around Dream’s hips. “Are you gonna get changed before lecture?”

“What do you think?” The grin Dream throws over his shoulder is vicious and drives Hob absolutely mad. 

Hob can see it already, how Dream will squirm in his seat, displaying himself, immodest and shameless as he always is. How the hell is Hob supposed to focus on the lesson plan knowing how brutally he’d fucked Dream just an hour prior.

He fucks him faster. “You’re going to leave cum all over the seat.” Hob means for the words to come out admonishingly, but it sounds like a revelation in his own ears, excitement coloring his tone and it only quickened his pace, snapping his hips and tearing out a choked off cry from Dream’s lips.

“And I’m gonna spread my legs and make sure you see what you’ve done to me during the. Entire. Lecture.” Dream seizes up, his head snapping up as if on a string. “Fuck! Hob! Right there–!”

Hob nearly growls as he sets up a brutal pace. His hips pistoning as he strikes that spot in Dream again and again and again. Dream’s hands flailing to grab onto something, his nails scratching the surface of Hob’s desk while another holds onto the edge of it, his entire body bouncing with each contact. The slick slap, slap, slap coupled with Dream’s ragged, hitched breaths echo around Hob and coil deep in his gut, the tension there coiling tighter and tighter…

Hob throws his head back to stare at the ceiling, keeping himself in check as he slows, his hands clawing at the skin of Dream’s hips, holding him firm. Dream groans, despairing at the slowed pace and begins to squirm in his hold.

“Hob–”

“Oh, my sweet Dream…” Hob breathes, his voice hoarse, pitched low as he looks down again, transfixed at the sight of his cock disappearing into Dream with easy, heavy thrusts. He slips it out just so his cockhead is visible, taking himself in hand to trace around the rim of Dream’s entrance, forcing a full body shudder from the student, before easing back in.

“You take me so well,” Hob slips his hands down to get Dream’s delicious ass in his hands, pushing the skirt up over his sharp hip bones to fully put him on display. “Your body was made for me, sweet thing. So good for me.”

Dream keens under the praise, his body rolling helplessly on Hob’s cock, riding desperately for friction that Hob barely has a hold on, his arousal screaming at him to take, it nearly hurts Hob to force himself to slow down. But he wants to make this last, wants to keep Dream here, sprawled out on his desk and behaving oh so patiently until Hob can get himself back under control.

“Hob–” Dream sobs again, pushing his hips back once more and Hob pulling out just in time, denying the pleasure and Dream’s fingers claw at the desk. “Hob please–!”

It’s the please that finally makes Hob snap, he could never deny Dream for long. He wants to spoil him rotten, wants to give him everything. The revelation is enough to send Hob spiraling, how much his chest aches with the desire to do anything to keep Dream close, always. So he does, his hands sliding back to his hips and holding on as he yanks him back, spearing Dream on his cock again and again, ripping out strangled cries that get caught in Dream’s throat, finally getting what he wants and delivering it at a punishing pace.

“More, more! Oh, fuck! Hob–!”

“Shh, Dream. I got you,” Hob grunts, he watches Dream slap a hand over his mouth again. Hob’s hold is nearly slipping– Dream’s skin shines with sweat, exertion out of every pore. “So close– fuck!”

Dream is close too, Hob can feel how his walls tighten around him like he intends to pull his cock deeper inside. He reaches a hand between Dream’s legs, where they are coupled, and all it takes is a fluttering touch of Hob’s fingers against Dream’s clit and Hob knows he’s coming, his scream barely muffled behind his hand. 

Dream’s head falls, his forehead hitting the desk with a dull thunk as he desperately grinds his hips back, milking it for all it’s worth before he finally collapses, boneless, against the solid wood surface.

Hob drapes himself over Dream’s back, finally allowing himself to give in and fuck relentlessly into him over and over, his hands finding Dream’s and lacing their fingers together tightly as Hob moans into Dream’s skin, coming so hard he nearly slips out and definitely sees white for a moment there.

His thrusts turn shallow, ears attuned to Dream’s happy sighs as Hob pumps his seed into him, slow but unrelenting, even as he feels himself going soft.

“Oh, Dream. My Dream,” Hob praises, breathless, kissing up the knobs of his spine to the nape of his neck. 

“Mm… yours.” Dream’s voice rumbles like thunder, satisfied.

Hob dips his head, his damp brows touching Dream’s back as he collects himself, and remembers where they are. Shit, he really hopes no one heard them. This is why he’d made a hard rule about fucking on campus; Dream was always so vocal. And as they sit in silence, Hob realizes how loud they had been, despite Dream’s best efforts to stifle his cries.

He finally peels himself off of Dream, pulling out and his cock giving a valiant twitch of interest with the way Dream makes a pathetic sound of loss, his knees bending slightly as he properly hangs onto the desk now.

Hob’s cum immediately begins to seep down Dream’s thighs, Hob can see how it soaks into the black mesh and… lord have mercy– Hob is truly going to hell– how it drips onto the floor.

“Dream…” Hob doesn’t know what he wants to say, maybe ask Dream to sit on his face, to lap up their combined spend so he can smell it on his skin for the rest of the day. God he’s so well and truly fucked. 

Instead, he helps Dream off the desk and curls them down onto the floor, Dream seated on his lap and wrapping his arms around Hob’s shoulders.

“You keep surprising me,” Hob says, his thumb caressing the line of Dream’s jaw and up to his cheekbones. “Devious, sexy thing.”

Dream smiles and leans in to tap their noses together.

“I actually don’t want to go to class anymore.”

“No?” Hob grins. He hasn’t checked the time in a while, but he’s sure they still have maybe an hour at least.

“You should cancel it.”

Hob laughs, his arms coiling around Dream’s middle, hands moving up his back.

“I’m not going to cancel it,” he smiles at the despairing way Dream grumbles. “But how about this: you go home, get some rest, and I’ll be there after to give all my attention to you.”

Dream stares at him, his eyes searching. It’s not the first time Hob has said “home” for the both of them, indicating his own house, which of course Dream has the spare keys to. He’d like to make it their home… Hob wants Dream to think of anything of Hob's as Dream’s as well… he hopes he can convey it without being explicit… how he wants to share his life with Dream.

And wonderfully, Dream seems to understand, tipping his head forward for a kiss.

“I’ll be waiting.”

[aclowntiny]

A Date Like No Other- Basketball Player!Mingyu x Female!Reader (College AU)

Inspired by the famous tumblr post 😄 also I’m quite tempted to do a part 2 for this one if anyone is into that hehe

Word Count: 3600 | College AU, Basketball Player!Mingyu, Humor, Fluff | Warnings: drinking mentioned, one suggestive comment, one minor swear

He was the guy on campus everyone would have sold organs to go on a date with. The sports guy. The really tall guy. Handsome, plays on the school team, movie love interest guy.

You were the weird girl hardly anyone talked to, and you just liked him because he drew on your notes with you.

History was boring you- you’d already answered the questions and they read the pages out loud at a snail’s pace, sending your eyes diving into the pages lest you want to rip your hair out and coat your long thin institutional table in it. Saving that, you reached into your backpack and pulled out a green ultra fine marker, popping the cap. You reached over and doodled a frog sitting in his funny little amphibian hunch on one of the multitudinous papers strewn about the table before the guy sitting next to you glanced over, a huge smile spreading across his face before he suppressed laughter.

"I've been frogged!" That, of course, had him almost snorting in aborted amusement.

Wait...did that mean? "Oh, sorry, those were your notes, huh?" You asked in response, hand hitting your head lightly. "I got them mixed up, sorry for defacing your property. I can get you a new sheet if you were going to turn that in-"

"Nah," your neighbor, whose name was Mingyu if you remembered from roll call, held up a hand of both restraint and reassurance, "it's fine! I'm going to keep it. I love him. I think he needs a hat, though."

"Oh, I got it." This time, it was a brown marker you grabbed, quickly outlining and filling in a tiny cowboy hat for your creation. "There we go, how's that?"

This time, a full snort. "He looks handsome to me. What's his name?" Mingyu whispered as your professor drew a tad bit closer.

"Uh, Clint Eastwood?" You shrugged, having not exactly thought that far- in fact, not at all, the whole shindig starting at full zero thoughts, head empty.

"Well, I'll take him with me to every class I have," Mingyu replied, glancing fondly at the doodled frog before taking his pencil and drawing a fly between two pieces of bread, "and feed him, too."

At that, you exhaled a quietened laugh, smiling back as wide as he'd done.

"What? Wouldn't that be what a frog eats?"

You had to admit that it would be.

From that day on, you two added one or two things onto Clint Eastwood's page every class session. He had a top hat at the ready for dressing up, a little garden of flowers, a very badly drawn horse to ride, a soccer ball to play with, and a plate of the takeout Mingyu had just really wanted that day. You didn't even know what his major was. Maybe it was just sports. Could one go to school for simply basketball? Who knew? You guys didn't really talk, just drew and whispered and laughed about your froggy little world. Either way, to your simultaneous amusement and annoyance you found yourself really able to see the hype behind the legendary Kim Mingyu. For all the popularity, he was a good guy. And you know what, he was cute. But, like, heart cute. The face cute was just a bonus.

~

"Hey (y/n), do you ever go to any games? I've never seen you at one," Mingyu mused as you strode out of class, backpacks loose over your shoulders.

"Well," you paused, letting your expression be cut by a half-joking, half-serious wince, "no offense, but I'm not a huge sports person? So I haven't gone because I don't have anyone to go with and it hasn't seemed worth the money. Not because of the game, just because of how much they charge for the ticke-”

"Hey, don’t worry, I get it," he laughed, "well, my little sister could use someone to go with, and the ticket would be on me. I save on buying them for myself because, well, you know."

"You're too busy slamming dunks or whatever it is basketball players do," you supplied.

"Depends on your position," Mingyu just chucklef in response, pushing the big silvery-painted fire exit-esque handle of the history building's double doors open.

"Basketball has positions?" You burst out incredulously, squinting both in confusion and at the onslaught of sunlight assaulting your eyes as you emerged past the threshold.

Another laugh. "Come and find out."

~

The game was made more fun by knowing a player- it gave you something to care about as your eyes followed Mingyu's run along the smooth floors, the way he leapt to toss the ball to some guy just as tall or even taller than him. He really played with passion, passion and a clear sense of fun if his remarks on the court were any indication. His sister was pretty cool, too. She looked like a fashion model straight out of Seoul, but she was fun and sassy, not afraid to tease her big brother about the shot he missed when he ran up and greeted you at the sidelines or shoot a questioning look between you two as you told him to do it for Clint Eastwood, whom Mingyu replied was his good luck charm before shuffling back off on sneakers that squeaked against the floor.

Even though you didn't actually hang out with him the whole time, just at celebratory victory ice cream after, you came to history lecture the next session feeling closer to Mingyu, and he must have felt the same as he started talking to you instantly. You rarely initiated conversation, but always welcomed it.

He thanked you for coming to the game as if he hadn’t paid for it, then asked what your major was. You told him and bounced the question back. Turns out it was business, not sports. That history lecture was just GE you both had to get out of the way. The most interesting history lessons to you weren't generic national history or war maps, but all the odd sideline stuff like how some people believed huffing toilets might have helped them during the Black Plague.

"They what?" Mingyu asked, eyes widening and mouth agape as class commenced.

Maybe that was why people didn't really talk to you.

Such reflection was inaccurate, however, as you mindlessly doodled a ridiculous-looking bug-eyed dog on the now-shared note paper and Mingyu chuckled and gave it a collar, smiling when your glance upward met his eyes.

The moment you rose from your seat after lecture, notebook shoved back into your backpack and pencil case into one of the side water bottle holsters or whatever they were called, Mingyu started talking to you again, this time about how glad he was that he didn't join a fraternity like his teammate Johnny.

"Yeah, because see, this one guy just got so drunk he didn’t know where his car was and his girlfriend lost her nose ring, then another guy was sick and they threw him outside and he woke up in the cold locked out of the house, and the houses stink, too, like they smell so bad…”

"Yeah," you muttered, taking each of your bag straps in your hands this walk, palms sliding over the rough fabric, "dude, you couldn't pay me to live in one of those."

“…they’re practically taking after those Black Plague people!” He joked, bringing a smile to both your faces as he mimed taking a sniff, waving his hands in front of his nose and bursting into laughter.

“Except they should know better,” you added, shaking your head in amusement, “they need to get smart like you and I.”

He didn’t laugh, just nodded in approval. "Right? And everyone there has already hooked up with each other. I'm so tired of all that, too. That's not the kind of date I've been looking for, you know?”

In a sense, you did not know, being that none of your classmates had even hardly made conversation let alone a risqué pass, but you got it. Being as popular as Mingyu was, you’d seen how fellow students threw themselves at him sometimes. Had to get uncomfortable, especially if his facial expression at a few of them said anything. They weren’t usually very original, either, poor guy. He was just a clear end goal, and someone who loved his sister and his little drawings and celebrated with ice cream as often as cocktails and laughed at toilets didn’t deserve that. Mingyu wasn’t an ideal, he was a real person. Someone who just needed to have some damn fun for once.

“Sure. You need some- no, you deserve some- creativity. If it was up to me, I’d take you on a date like no other,” you joked, chuckling as your gaze rose back up to his eyes.

“You would?” At the sight of Mingyu’s eyes widening, you wondered if your phrasing had inadvertently crossed a line. Sure, you were totally willing, but- “Alright, just name a time.”

“Wait, really?” This time it was your turn to gape, one hand dropping off your backpack strap to fall to your side. Your heart picked up its pace. Never in a googolplex of years would you have thought Mr. It Boy K. Basketball would want a date with you. Being his friend was surprising enough.

“Yeah, of course. I think it’d be fun,” Mingyu beamed at you, “and I trust you. My sister likes you, too. If…if you really meant it, that is.” He added that last bit as his own gaze dropped and one hand reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Giggling shyly at his sudden sheepishness as well as the situation’s sheer absurdity, you tilted your head his way, smile melting back out of the shock. “Well, thanks, that actually…really means a lot. Get ready for an epic time, then!”

He cocked a brow, turning down between a row of potted trees toward the food court. “Have something in mind already?”

Actually, you did have something you always wanted to do if you could get someone else- it would look too weird to be the only one. Why not do it with Mingyu?

“Be afraid,” you nodded, smirking in satisfaction.

“Well then, how should I dress?”

“Just casual is fine,” you shrugged and teased, “we can’t all afford black tie, Mr. Business Major.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, still giving that wide smile you’d come to anticipate seeing, “Friday night?”

“Friday night,” you repeated.

~

“Get ready for Friday Night Showdown!”

“Um, (y/n), this is the grocery store.”

Your lips turned upward proudly as you rotated from a fist pump into a Vanna White pose before the mart. “I know.”

“Are we…” Mingyu paused, clearly searching for words. “Fighting in here or something?”

“We are not,” you replied cryptically, looking all the more satisfied as you passed between the automatic doors, Mingyu at your side.

“Am I doing your shopping?” He looked at you with still-raised eyebrows, though amusement colored his expression.

“That would be messed up!” You denied, shaking your head. “Though admittedly funny.”

“Don’t get any ideas for date two!”

Your heart flipped at Mingyu’s easy smile, how casually he said that…the way he flushed and looked away the moment the words left his mouth. He was already thinking of your next date? Hope he likes seafood, you internally joked.

“Yeah, no shopping tonight unless you wanted some snacks. Because tonight,” you skipped over all the central aisles of kitchen supplies, soap, and dry goods, making a beeline for the meat section… well, more specifically the fish counter, “is all about the face-off.”

In a split second you caught Mingyu’s eyes dart down once more past rows of cans, bottles, jars of just about every color you could ask for, dancing over their numerical markers as if to say farewell to actual shopping. Then, his gaze was back on you, your gestures, over your shoulder to the tank at the end of the fish counter. The tank full of lobsters with big claws and small patience. His eyes met yours again. He knew. You could see it.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. Pick your champion.”

He twisted his cap around backwards, revealing his face, those big, innocent brown eyes, once more. “Uh, quick question: how do you suggest I keep mine straight from the others?”

He was asking in earnest. That was another thing you liked about Mingyu: not only did he possess childlike wonder beyond what somebody in his age and station in life probably should, he was also a bad liar in the purest, kindest of senses. He really, truly, had never had a grocery store lobster beatdown date, and he couldn’t fake interest if he tried. So now he wanted tips, advice you could give him as if you had already had loads of grocery store lobster beatdown dates. All you could do was smile back at the tall basketball player and every small kindness he’d shown you thus far. The way he’d simply seen you.

“Good question. Don’t they have different colored wristbands?”

He arched a brow, clearly fighting a snicker. “Different what?”

Pantomiming a band with one hand grabbing the other, you stuttered. “You know, the… the claw restraints! The wristbands!”

“I don’t think they have wrists, (y/n),” Mingyu teased, reaching over and ruffling your hair.

Well, of course you realize this means war. “Alright, you are on,” was all you said, eyes narrowing.

He perked up at that. “What’s the bet?”

“Winner gets to pick the next activity,” you reply, sauntering a few steps closer to the lobster tank and pointing to one with a purple band over its claws that was clearly ready to throw- well, for lack of better terminology- hands, “and I choose this one.”

“Well, in that case,” Mingyu returned to your side, arm pressed against yours as he peered into the tank, “the logical choice would be to pick the one in red in front of yours. May the best crustacean win.”

And at that, his competitive stare melted back into that boyish look as he turned to you. “…did that sound cool?”

It almost came out as a snort, you burst out laughing so violently. “That was legendary,” was all you could wheeze out.

~

“Ha ha! I can’t believe it!” Mingyu grinned and bobbed up from his bent tank stare like an excited puppy, pumping the fist that wasn’t holding the mart beer can he’d bought as his lobster shoved yours away in victory.

The pair of crustaceans had been locked in claw-to-claw combat, tussling very slowly over nothing in particular but their proximal frustrations, and Mingyu’s had apparently vented harder, shoving yours back after some aggressive minutes. Mingyu had gotten into the fight, nudging you when something extra exciting happened and even providing commentary on sideline fights between sips.

First drawing a fly sandwich, then that. Truly, who'd've thunk?

“Neither can I," you mock-pouted, crossing your arms, "purple always wins."

"Says who?" Asked Mingyu, who leaned down closer to you, face mere inches from yours.

"Says me," you shrugged, feeling warmth spread across your face.

"Well, you know what?"

You could feel warmth of his breath ghosting faintly over your cheeks, your lips. "Wh- what?"

"As much as I enjoy a good bar," he leaned back a bit, clapping, "I did need something else. Something new. This was fun! Wanna go play basketball in the park? I bet we'll have the court to ourselves!"

There it was again. The reason everyone liked him. Movie love interest vibes, even beneath the oddly-tinted fluorescent lights of commerce. A smile like a boy on the body of a man. Probably not something they usually imagined to see over a lobster tank. Over hoops in the park, though? That tracked, even if it was a bit of a one-eighty from his breath fanning your face.

Beside any of that, he had won the right to choose.

"Sure," you smile, "let's keep your winning streak up."

And with a hand clasped around yours, that athletic strength was tugging you out the grocery store door to a rush of evening wind and the sound of mutual laughter.

~

Basketball really was that man’s passion. Just about the only thing about it you knew about the sport was what a slam dunk was, but what different shots scored different points? You wanted to throw a three-pointer, but what was a three-pointer?

You learned what it was, what an assist was, that elbowing was illegal or something like that because every game had a reason to send the players to sports jail like grown-up cops and robbers.

You got the ball in the basket twice with no help, and that was achievement enough. Mingyu had ran across the court to high-five you both times as if you’d just won him a game. When you messed up the angle of another throw, he got behind you and, trying your best to focus with his chest flush against your back, you tried again and sent the ball sailing without the betrayal of the previous throw’s dramatic arc.

“So can we give Clint Eastwood a basketball now too?” Mingyu asked out of the blue, dropping to the concrete at your side, legs crossing and knees brushing.

“What,” you chuckled, “do you have him with you or something?”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled a small white square out and unfolded it to reveal the piece of lined notebook paper with margins full of marker and pencil scratch, most notably your hatted frog friend. He kept those notes in his pocket?

With the one not holding Clint, he ran a hand through his short black hair. “I do like to have him with me,” he answered with a tentative smile.

You twisted slightly, feeling your spine pop from its prior exertion, and remembered his words from the basketball game as he’d visited your seat, making you laugh with a failed attempt at spinning the ball on his finger. “As a good luck charm?”

He shook his head. “I think we’ve added something almost every time we’ve been together. He’s like a log of all the memories we share.” With that, he scooched closer to your side, his jacket falling over the folds of your own clothes slightly. “And I like our memories, Frog Girl.”

What could you say to that? “Frog Girl?” You just giggled, eyes on his.

“That’s right,” Mingyu nodded, “I can’t believe I would never have talked to you if you hadn’t drawn a frog.”

“Ah, college,” you sighed, tilting your head, “the golden years, and yet it’s so easy to ignore everyone else.”

“Well, no longer,” Mingyu shot back, gaze honing in on…well, you weren’t sure, but you liked it, “I figured out what I want to do with my victory wish.”

You smiled at the phrase ‘victory wish’, a term that was just so him. “I thought that was this.” For emphasis, you waved a hand along the court, feeling the night breeze that much more on the skin of your palm.

“Nope,” he shook his head, smirking as his eyes fell back on yours, “I didn’t say I was using it then, I just asked if you wanted to come out here and you said yes."

Well, coat you in flour and call you a biscuit. "You evil genius, you." At that, you gave a grin and a shake of your own head, unable to resist feeling a bit impressed. Man plays games, he picks up some strategy. You'd have to remember that.

"I prefer to think of myself as a nice genius," Mingyu said, and then, switching tones completely, doing another one-eighty to one sweet enough to make your heart swell, he continued, "and about my wish: can I kiss you? I can't think of a better way to end Friday Night Showdown."

Deathly afraid of saying something stupid, you answered by shifting from your crossed legs, folding them to the side as you sat up, knee resting slightly on the edge of his leg as you pressed your lips to his. The slick of his sports jacket between your fingers felt cool as you gripped it to hold both yourself and Mingyu in place as he surged forward into you. For his speed, his eagerness, his kiss was surprisingly soft, not digging too deep but just firmly holding you, treasuring you as if the feeling of your lips was about to fade. Oh, buddy, I'm not going anywhere, you murmured in your head against the feeling of his ever-so-slightly chapped lips.

And as he pulled away, separation painfully slow, deliberate, Mingyu looked you dead in the eyes, blinked at the sudden return of hazy park streetlight, and said “Wow.”

You nodded. “Wow.” Can’t believe how well those lobsters worked, you wanted to say. "You're full of surprises, Mr. Basketball."

“Mr. Basketball,” he mused, gaze briefly drifting from yours, then back. “I wasn’t sure you were going to be that into me, being so funny and smart and artistic and stuff, but I just couldn’t help myself. And boy am I glad for that,” he grinned.

For that, all you could do was kiss him again.

No more hoops were shot that night, only words tossed out with new glee as you, now wrapped in Mingyu’s jacket, pointed out lesser-known constellations, like the Dutch giraffe one or the Poop Deck. After all, you had a reputation to keep up on that date, and everyone had already seen the Big Dipper.

[restlessmaknae]

enchanted [mark lee]

You have one goal when you apply for the yearly contest to get into the most prestigious wizardry school: to win just like your parents did 25 years ago. However, bumping into prince Minhyung who seems to remember you from your yearly visits to the palace seems to shake up your plan a little bit.

➳ Characters: prince!Mark x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: fantasy, fluff, magical kingdom au, magical contest au, magical school au

➳ Words: 19.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of injuries, burn marks, pressuring parents

➳ A/N: This story is dedicated to @dat-town. Merry Christmas, dear! ❤️ You've already read my little (?) letter, but really, thank you for everything! I love you so so so much. ❤️

Plus, I've gotten carried away, but this story was inspired by your prompt for the request event: “i’m not blushing” with mark lee

Check out the masterpost for the Four Kingdoms' United School of Elemental Magic series!

➳ NCT taglist: @s00buwu, @winterbeartaehyungbestboy, @sweetjaemss, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @squiishymeow, @heyditseeey

You felt the air around you shift. You shifted it, the current leaving goosebumps on the skin of the judges as the temperature in the room dropped. You welcomed the familiar tug in your stomach as you gathered the threads of magic around you, pulling it towards you and taming it to your own will.

First was the change in temperature, then you sent out whooshes of air - towards the shelves, towards the candles on the judges' table, sipping the light from them, leaving the wick bare, then towards the windows, earning crackling noises as if something from outside wanted to come in. It was actually quite true for you were feeding on the energy of air, the oxygen in the room, but it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

A few seconds later, the crackling stopped as the two huge windows of the room flew open violently, and the otherwise peaceful breeze from outside wafted into the room. You held onto it, and it physically felt like holding onto it as if it was a rope and you were pulling it closer. As you sipped more and more air into the room, your body was trying to keep up with more and more energy rushing through you. It was a feeling akin to running - it was both freeing and exhausting at the same time. You pushed yourself more and more until you let everything accumulate in one big tornado in the middle of the room. It danced around like flames of a candle or that sweet treat vendors enjoyed making while children watched in awe as the dessert took form in the shape of a small tornado.

The difficult thing wasn't creating the tornado but rather not let it lose shape and eventually lose control. A wizard's magic didn't lie in its impressive complexity or array of skills, but in the way they could control whatever they possessed. At least, your parents said so. You concentrated on your determination to prove to them how worthy you were to wear the family name, how worthy you were as a female, and channelled it into the tornado in front of you, into gradually narrowing it until it was the size of a loaf of bread. Then, with a whip of your hand, the gust of air disappeared completely.

You didn't really register that you were sweating all throughout your demonstration until you could feel drops of sweat roll down your cheeks. You didn't waver though, you merely let out a long sigh and blew away the stray locks that fell into your eyes.

"Thank you for your demonstration," the woman on the left said. Your parents had told you about her - Kim Taeyeon, a member of the senate of the Four Kingdoms -, said to be able to tame all four elemental magic without any of them overpowering the other, so definitely a rare case. The man on her left was Kim Jungmyeon, a highly praised wizard professor from the Earth Kingdom. There was another man and another woman, but in your state, you couldn't recall their names.

"Thank you so much for the opportunity," you bowed deeply, and when you straightened, you tried to translate their facial expressions, but you couldn't for they masked their emotions perfectly well, no sign of being impressed or being disappointed about your performance either. Maybe it was for the better.

"We shall get back in touch with you within 5 days no matter whether you are chosen or not," professor Kim Junmyeon announced briefly, and that was enough for you to know that it was the end of the first round for you. Somehow, you noticed, the flames were back dancing on the top of the candles as if you had never put them out, and you wondered whether it was his doing.

You thanked them for the information and bid your goodbye. Only when you left the room, did you allow yourself to wipe the sweat off your face. As you walked down the corridor, your features softened, but you steeled them when you turned a corner and walked past the next contestants lining up.

When you had been lining up yourself, you had seen others coming out angry, frustrated, disheartened, and some had even come out crying. Some had come out boasting that they would make it for sure, while others like you had to act as if you weren't debating inside whether your efforts were enough.

To be honest, girls were looked down on when applying either way. Since a part of a woman's magic left her body when she gave birth to a child, some saw women as easily disposable wizard trainees. Some highlighted that it was a waste of time and effort to train them as their magic would lose some of its power upon childbirth, so when it was time for the yearly contest to get into the Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic, there were always glances thrown around and nasty whispers whenever a girl showed up.

Despite your expectation to receive the same attention as you had done so when you had walked up to the entrance of the institution, no eyes were on you. Everyone was looking behind them, whispers half-muffled as their eyes darted between the corridor and a certain someone at the end of the line. As if they parted around him, you could see clearly who it was when you walked past him.

But he...

"Did he get into trouble?"

"Does he want to prove that he is as great of a wizard as his parents are?"

"Why did he apply though? There are always places reserved for royal children…"

The questions on the other contestants' minds were mirroring your own because you didn't understand either why Lee Minhyung, the golden child of the royal couple in the Air Kingdom was there, lined up for the yearly contest to study at the wizardry school managed by the Four Kingdoms. The Four Kingdoms weren't always so friendly with each other, so the fact that the royal families, the senate and the appointed professors could all work towards training the winners of the contest who would then study there for 2 years before becoming either advisors for their respective kingdom's royal families, consuls in the senate or professors in training at the school was symbolic enough of how big this application was.

On the other hand, the royal children were always excluded from the first round, meaning that they didn't need to apply and demonstrate their abilities in the first round. They were always selected in the 200 contestants who would go onto the second round, and no one questioned why because they supposedly had the best teachers in their own kingdoms and their own families were founders of the school.

So why… why was Lee Minhyung still there?

As the tale goes, the Four Kingdoms of Elemental Magic were once a united kingdom. They were built in a square shape, and there were no borders between them. Wizards in that era were said to have been the most powerful as they had access to all the four elements and they could tame their magic as they wished. There were schools for magic back then as well, but they were more like training schools, not educational institutions with a highly standardised application process. Everyone could reap the benefits of highly trained wizards.

Nonetheless, access to all meant that some took advantage of the situation, and wizards without properly controlled powers or those who felt like they were better than others used their magic to intimidate, hurt and manipulate others. Crime bloomed along the streets of the united kingdom, and it went as far as assassinating the then ruling King, leaving the Queen and her two sons to take control of the situation.

That was when the borders were put it place and the square shaped kingdom was divided into four small squares according to where each element was the most powerful - the Air kingdom with its windy weather and peaceful lowlands, the Earth Kingdom with its rich woods and lush fields, the Fire Kingdom with its majestically overtowering volcano and long nights that forced towns to provide constant light for visibility and the Water Kingdom with its high quality drinking water, mesmerising lakes and bustling seafood markets.

Magic became something to control as children were tested every year to see if they possessed any magic and if they did, what kind, so that they could be put into schools according to their abilities. Soon enough, wizards with the ability to tame all four kinds of magic became more and more rare, and even those were kept close to the royal family or the senate that was put together to combat crime, rebellion and manipulation of one's power in all four kingdoms.

You knew that given the circumstances, it was the best they could do, but you felt like it was unfair to those who didn't have enough money to send their children to a good wizardry school, those who could not afford to move closer to the capital city to make use of their talent but rather had to grind somewhere in a small town to be able to put food on the table each and every day. Not to mention those who wanted to travel and see the different kingdoms as it was prohibited for the common people to visit another kingdom but their own.

The gap between the rich and poor widened, and everyone was monitored, everyone was administered in order to avoid repeating the past. Vendors could only bring their products to the borders where the border officials took them and gave them a predetermined sum of money, families were torn apart due to the implemented borders, and the four kingdoms appointed the area on the border of all four kingdoms where once the capital of the United Kingdom had been ‘the Circle’. The Circle gave home to the newly built senate building, the council buildings for each kingdom to discuss matters between them when there was no need to include the senate, the newly built Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic where each element could be well studied and practised as the magic was still the most powerful there, and the homes of those regularly staying and working in the Circle.

One of the reasons you applied for the school's yearly contest was because you had ideas how to change the current system, and as a 20-year old person, let alone a girl, you had no voice. Even if your parents were both parts of the senate representing the Air Kingdom, they didn't want to listen to you. They always said that this would be too costly, that would be too risky, so ultimately, nothing changed. The other reason was to prove to them that you were worthy, that you could be as powerful as them, both selected as part of the final winners in the contest 25 years ago.

"I've heard that this year, there were more than 500 applicants," your mother stated matter-of-factly over breakfast on the day you were supposed to be notified of your result. "And prince Minhyung was one of them. I definitely didn't see that coming from the royal couple, sending their child to the first round like that," she continued, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Not that you had any say in applying because despite the fact that you had wanted to apply yourself, you knew all too well that your parents wouldn't have accepted a no as an answer either.

Even if you had gone to a good school in the Air Kingdom, this was different. The fact that there was a contest to get into the Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic was proof enough that it was a huge deal; learning not just about your own magic but about the others as well. The schools in individual kingdoms weren’t as equipped as the united school, and the professors working there didn’t usually practise magic other than their own kingdom’s because those who did worked elsewhere - mostly somewhere in the Circle.

"Well, it was not against the rules. Their excludement from the first round is a privilege, not a duty," your father added between two spoonfuls of porridge.

"I've heard that the prince wanted to come on his own accord, that his parents didn't know about his decision until the very end," you blurted out, earning two pairs of wide eyes on you. You didn't usually believe the gossip from the streets and markets, but you had nothing else to do since the first round of the contest as you didn't have classes because your parents were sure that you would make it, so you had the past four days off. If you were to be selected, you would have a month-long competition ahead of you with daily classes and practices anyway.

"I doubt that's the truth. That would mean prince Minhyung is rather irresponsible, and that's not what I've heard of him," your mother shook her head as if she was disapproving of the whole situation.

Or rather brave, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue. You didn't know why you felt the need to defend the prince, but he hardly looked like someone who had been there just to cause trouble and drama. He had looked like he wanted to be there, excited yet slightly nervous at the same time as he had been nibbling on his lower lip, his big doe eyes shining joviantly - he had looked just like everyone else.

Either way, you were about to find out what kind of a person he was because when the letter arrived from the Four Kingdoms' United School of Applied Elemental Magic, you were notified of your successful application and the time you would need to move into the dormitory for the second round.

"As expected of our daughter," your mother put a hand on your shoulder upon the news and gave you a triumphant smile. You weren't sure though whether she looked so proud because she felt like she was the reason for your success or because she was wholeheartedly happy for you. It had been a long time since you had heard genuine congratulations from them. For a long time now, it had always been 'as expected of our daughter', and truthfully, you didn't know how to feel about that.

When the day of your moving arrived, you were rather grateful to leave. After all, it would be the first time you would leave home for more than a few days at a time, and after the last few days of tormenting lectures about controlling your magic, concentrating on your energy levels and keeping out all distractions, you were ready to bolt. It was in a way very helpful to have highly influential wizards as your parents, but more often than not, it seemed like magic was the only thing they could talk about. In their eyes, if you didn't become a wizard like them, you would be a nobody.

No wonder you didn't shed tears like some others when bidding goodbye to your parents at the entrance of the school. You had to go through a couple of people with a couple of questions before you were given directions to your dormitory room and a key. The wizardry school had three main buildings: one for classes and training with specifically crafted walls and windows, some sound-proof, fire and water-proof while others budding with green spaces and individually designed structures to mimic slippery hills, sweep mountain hills and such fields to prepare you for possible battlefields; the second one for socialising including the dormitory with three floors of rooms, common areas and a grande canteen, and the third one for everything else: the teachers’ offices, an infirmary, storage rooms and a small shop where you could buy supplies for classes as well as little treats for yourself if you were still hungry after the meals in the canteen.

Knowing where to go and how equipped the school was due to your parents working in the Circle came in handy on the first day when assisting teachers and volunteering students were hustling and bustling with the administration rather than walking you to your rooms, so you took it upon yourself to find your room with the help of the signs indicating the different floors.

Realistically, you knew that housing 200 youngsters for a week wouldn't mean a room on your own even if you were to have your own room during your studies at the school if you were selected in the final, but you were still surprised to find two girls already in your room when you arrived.

"Oh, you must be from the Air Kingdom. The air around you is literally different," the girl who introduced herself as Dayoung mentioned as she made room for you to put down your baggage on the shared desk. She had long, strawberry-blonde hair and an almond-shaped face with a friendly, almost teasing smile and a laid back vibe.

"Or I'm just stern," you shrugged your shoulders, and they took your joke well as they both burst into laughter. Wizards from the Air Kingdom were said to be intimidating and strict, but not in the rebellious, wild way like those from the Fire Kingdom, but rather in a cold, unfriendly way.

"They say we're totally weirdos, so don't worry," Yoojung added joyfully after letting you know that they were both from the Fire Kingdom. They didn't go to school together, but their parents knew each other, so they had become quite the friends over the past few years. It was amusing to look at them as a pair - Dayoung with her blonde hair and Yoojung with her dark brown hair, the latter shorter by at least a head -, but they seemed like really good friends.

"Do you know anyone else coming from the Air Kingdom?"

"Uhmm..." You wondered out loud upon hearing Yoojung's question. You didn't have a lot of friends because of your strict training schedule, not to mention your parents telling you to focus on making connections with important people rather than simply friends. Needless to say, you couldn't care less, but you didn't even have a lot of opportunities to make friends, so you knew of those mostly whom your parents told you about. "There are two boys who went to the same school with me, and they've been accepted as far as I know...Prince Minhyung is coming, too," you listed, though the latter was obvious while the former boys they couldn't know about. Yohan and Yongha were both pretty talented and chill back at school, so you didn't think they would make any trouble.

"Oooh the royal kids," cooed Dayoung, and exchanged a glance with Yoojung.

"Did I miss something?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Yoojung protested with heavy hand gestures at the same time as Dayoung hollered: "Oh yeah, I've got a story for you."

It turned out after a little bit of bickering that Dayoung and Yoojung were both coming into the dormitory building at the same time as prince Hendery - from the Water Kingdom - and his so-called best friend Xiaojun did so, and Dayoung could swear that the prince had his eyes locked on Yoojung from the moment they met whereas the girl in question told her that she was simply being delusional. You could listen to their stories and bickering for hours, you felt, but then a boy showed up at your door, and blinked around, confused.

"Uhmmm.... I guess I got lost?" The boy, all raven-hair, boyish features and big doe eyes said, and for a moment, he seemed like a boy you could see on market days running between the different stalls, not the prince from your own kingdom.

You could already see Dayoung opening her mouth - to probably question if he was the so-called prince Minhyung -, so you saved everyone from the embarrassment and asked:

"Which room were you assigned to?"

"Third floor, fifth room to the left... or maybe it was the right?" He giggled nervously as the question hit him and scratched his neck like a sheepish boy. It was so in contrast to what you had heard about him - the golden child of the royal family, talented in everything from magic to public speaking and horse riding, in training to become one of the best wizards in his kingdom - that you felt your lips curl upwards in amusement.

"The boys' rooms are in the right wing as far as I know," you shared with him, and Dayoung agreed, telling a whole story about a boy named Seunghun who was in front of her in the line, and who was handsome by the way, and who was supposed to be on the third floor as well and in the right wing.

"Oh, okay, thank you," he bobbed his head in gratitude, then opened his mouth to say something only to close it a bit later. You all looked at him, puzzled, before he managed to speak up again.

"Haven't we met before?"

The question was directed at you, and both girls turned their heads towards you, eyes hungry for a story. You blinked at him, bewildered by both the fact that he remembered you and that he asked about it in front of others.

"My parents are members of the consul in the Air Kingdom and members of the senate. We give our blessings to the kingdom each year at the Festival of Light and Air," you told him, and even though he could have lost count of all the different faces, a hint of surprise crossed his eyes.

"Oh, I remember! Your parents always said that we're the same age. No wonder you're here," he articulated, totally in awe, his eyes lighting up.

You could see from the corner of your eyes that the girls were smirking beside you, but you didn't dare to look their way. You were glad that Minhyung pulled himself together quickly, and cleared his throat to bid his goodbye.

"Right wing then, thank you. See you around!" He smiled radiantly before turning around and leaving. There was a moment of silence before the room erupted with noise. You had to close the door to keep it in, and even though you couldn't say much more about your brief yearly encounters with the prince and his family when you all bowed towards them and said the same words to bless the kingdom, the magic of air and the royal family, you already had a feeling that you would be in good company here.

The first week was exhausting and noisy. It started with an introduction to the professors, a tour of the buildings, and the rules that you must follow (such as not hurting other contestants and not using magic on others, occupying trainings rooms to practise your magic only when a professor approved your request, and going to your rooms before curfew which also prohibited different contestants to sleep at another’s room). There were exactly 200 20-year-old students including the royal heirs, and even though you didn't meet everyone because the classes were held in small groups, meal times were for everyone, so the canteen was full of chattering and bantering.

You usually went to the canteen with Dayoung and Yoojung, but not all of your classes were together. That meant that you had even more to talk about because Yoojung had classes with prince Hendery, and despite the fact that Dayoung wasn't there, she was sure that the prince was all heart eyes for her friend.

You, of course, were teased by them because you attended a class together with prince Minhyung, and you actually talked. You didn't know whether it was because you were the first familiar face he caught sight of, but he asked if he could sit beside you, and you said yes. You didn't talk a lot though, but he seemed pretty grounded for a prince, and he didn't boast about his skills even though he was really good. Due to the fact that your main element was the same - air -, and you were learning how to tame the opposite one - earth -, you shared this class because the second round would be about demonstrating how you could control an opposite element as well as yours.

You could see how serious and focused he was when he was gathering and controlling his magic, but you could also see how easily distracted he was by outside noises. Indeed, the first round was held in silence, but you weren't sure that it would stay that way. After all, out of the 200 students, only 100 could pass the second round, more or less 25 from each kingdom. After that, 80 out of 100 would go on, and then the last two rounds’ numbers of winners wouldn’t be based on a specific number, but rather the number of students who fulfil the given challenges, so it could be 20 or all 80, but usually the average number of winners were around 30-40 each year.

It was a rule to give equal chances to all the four kingdoms, but it wouldn't be realistic to always stick to a predetermined number of students who could pass from each kingdom because there might be better students in a particular one and less gifted ones in another one.

However, having to calculate with around 25 students passing in your own kingdom's group made you feel nervous when the day of the second round arrived, and you were all waiting for your turn, gathered together in the canteen.

"How are you feeling?" Prince Minhyung inquired with his warm brown eyes widened, and you toned down the urge to push aside his fringe that was falling into his eyes. He was, in a way, a grown-up boy with hints of boyish features, and the duality of him - both his appearance and his personality - made you feel like you were in the wrong. Like you should have not paid too much attention to these details, yet you did.

"A bit nervous," you answered truthfully as you looked around yourself, seeing everyone in your group in the same white, loose pants and long-sleeved shirt. Each group had a different outfit and a different colour - white for Air with loose clothing that the air could sweep into, blue for Water with water-proof, body-fitting clothes, burgundy for Fire with inflammable jackets and sporty pants while Green for Earth with hiking boots and field clothes.

"I don't think you have anything to be nervous about. I'm sure you'll do great," the boy remarked, gentle and supportive as usual, and you didn't know what it was about him, but you wanted to believe him. So you thanked him before inquiring about his side.

"I'm a bit nervous, too. I mean, I've practised it enough, but it's like... it's like a scary test. I've never had to demonstrate my powers to anyone like this after preparing for a week. I've just had classes where I did all these exercises, but they were nothing like this," he elaborated, suddenly a lot more serious than before. You hummed, taking in his words. You didn't know what you had expected for the child of the royal couple to learn, but it wasn't this.

"That's why you've applied? To push your boundaries?" You guessed tentatively because you had no idea whether that was a button you could push or not. All kinds of rumours had been going around about why prince Minhyung was there in the first place, but you hadn't asked about his reason in the past week. Truthfully, you hadn't felt like asking about it.

On the other hand, the boy's features softened upon your question, and his eyes lit up, twinkling with something akin to gratitude.

"Yeah, exactly. I felt like my teachers went easy on me just because I am the heir to the throne, and I wanted to do it like everyone else from the start. Plus, I don't think it's fair that you have to apply for the first round and royal children don't. I have nothing to do with my ancestors' decision from a hundred years ago," he stated firmly, and now you could see that rebellious side of him that you hadn't caught on the day of the first round. You could see the fire in his eyes and hear the determination in his voice. Maybe it was due to all those lessons about public speaking, but you had a feeling that he could do everything he put his mind to just by the way he worded himself.

"Well, I know some people who believe that you did the right thing," you shared with a small smile, dissolving the solemnity in the air. The boy smiled back at you, and it felt like a gentle breeze swaying a field of poppies when he did so - so soothing, so reassuring.

"Thanks," he mumbled rather coyly, and you could watch this sight for so long, but your name was called, so you had to go.

With one last glance in the prince's direction, you headed towards one of the training fields outside.

After the usual formalities and rules of the demonstration, you did what you had done last time, but pulled the energy of nature around you just as well. Fallen leaves and trunks were dancing in the tornado you created until you let them touch the floor gently as if nothing had happened. Then, you pushed a current of air into the ground, so hard that it pierced through the surface, leaving a small hole in front of you. A hole, that once you let go of the air's energy, you mended with the energy of nature at your feet. It was still more exhausting to use it and recognise the pull of earth rather than the pull of air, but you had learned how to begin to tame each elemental magic before, at least the gist of it, so now you focused on deepening that knowledge. And it seemed to pay off as the ground beneath you mended itself, leaving no ghost of a crack behind to let anyone think that it had opened up before.

"Thank you very much for your demonstration, Miss Y/N. Please, wait for the end of the second round to get to know about your result," one of your professors who was a part of the judges announced, and you nodded, thanking them for the opportunity.

There was a tremble in your legs and a prickling feeling in your hands when you stepped inside the building again. You tried to shake it off, but it must have been the thrill of it all because the feeling faded only when you managed to calm the crazy beating of your heart. It also helped that prince Minhyung finished soon afterwards, so you could share your experiences in the hall where all those who had already finished gathered together. Dayoung and Yoojung also arrived a bit later, and you guessed that the so-called prince Hendery and his friend did too because prince Minhyung seemed to know him, and Dayoung kept giving her friend those googly eyes.

The rest of the waiting went by fast with more and more students accumulating around your little group, and soon enough, the representatives of the judges announced the results.

You realised how different it was when you had received the results through letters compared to now when the names of those who passed were called out. You squealed when Dayoung's and Yoojung's names were read out, and you gave prince Minhyung a wide, bright smile when his was, too. Then, there was Seunghun from the Fire Kingdom, Serim from the Water Kingdom, Yeosang from the Earth Kingdom and...

"Y/N from the Air Kingdom!"

You could feel your stomach drop in relief when your name was called, and you were embraced by both Yoojung and Dayoung at the same time, so much that you almost didn't even notice prince Minhyung's supportive little smile directed at you. Just almost though.

With the announcement of the selected ones, the theme of the third round was also announced. You would need to demonstrate your current ability of controlling three different elemental powers - so a stepping stone from the second round -, but this time, you couldn't prepare your own demonstration, you had to do what the judges would ask you on the spot. It would be both nerve-wracking and reassuring because they would ask more or less the same set of exercises from those who learned how to tame the same three elemental powers, so it would be easier to compare the students. At the same time, you were afraid that you wouldn't understand their request or it would be totally out of your league, and you would fail miserably. The thing is, even though Dayoung's brother had been a contestant two years ago, they could strictly not talk about the content of the contest, plus they were supposed to change up the structure a little bit every now and then, so you had no idea what to expect.

"I'm saying, we should focus on our classes and making memories rather than worrying about the end result," Hendery chattered at the canteen during lunch when he heard your worried words.

During the week and with the diminishing number of people, your little group of Dayoung, Yoojung, Minhyung, Hendery, Xiaojun and you had become quite solidified. The princes also asked you to call them by their names instead of their title since you were friends now. Though seeing Hendery and Yoojung's friendly bickering, you also thought that they might not have been just friends much to Dayoung's joy.

"If I were you, I wouldn't worry either. All royal kids are still in the contest," Yoojung pointed out rather frustrated, but it was because she had messed up her demonstration during the second round, and she had been down ever since.

Truthfully, you could totally understand her. If you wanted to be honest, you were terrified of dropping out - not because it would hurt your ego, but because you didn’t know how you would face your parents afterwards. You knew that Yoojung’s father was teaching magic at a school in the Fire Kingdom while her mother was part of their consul, so she had the same fears as you. Despite passing the second round, she had received a blow to her self-esteem, and even though you and Dayoung had tried to cheer her up, she hadn’t yet regained her usual cheeriness.

The air around you froze for a moment, and despite not mentioning your different backgrounds in such a bad light before, it was true that the royal applicants usually made it to the last two rounds safe and sound. You didn't want to jump to conclusions because your own parents were rather influential, and they were a part of the senate who managed the school, but you wouldn't be surprised if you weren't treated equally. After all, that first round exemption privilege was also not a thing of the past.

"You should have just said that my charms are irresistible, that's why I'm still here," Hendery shrugged with a teasing grin, and slightly nudged Yoojung's shoulder with his own. It could be seen how the girl's features softened a bit, but she said nothing before turning back to her food.

The slightly tense atmosphere was lingering in the air for the next few days, and Yoojung was still not back to her usual self. So when she didn’t come back to your shared room after classes one day, you decided to look for her in your dormitory building while Dayoung was looking for her in the canteen, the infirmary and such.

The dormitory had a tower on top, one that was surrounded by a circular terrace from where one could see the whole Circle. You liked to come up to calm your nerves, so that was the first palace that came to mind, and as you took the steps to the top one after another, you wondered if you would be like her if you messed up during a round. It’s not like it was a matter of life and death, but you knew how much pressure influential parents could place on their children - as if one single mistake or faltering weren’t your own, but it was a dismay to your whole family.

When you reached the top, you were about to reach for the doorknob when you caught sight of Yoojung and Hendery talking on the terrace through the transparent glass door. They were standing close to each other, and when you looked closer, you realised that Hendery was fumbling with his hands as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, but he kept reaching towards the girl who seemed to be oblivious to that as her eyes were unfocused on anything in particular - she was just staring ahead of herself.

Knowing that Hendery was a good guy, and that your friend was in good hands, you decided to go against interfering, and descended down the stairs. You reached the bottom and you were about to turn the corner when you quite literally bumped into someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled apologetically even before it could settle in who he was. When your eyes found the prince’s own shining orbs, you merely let out a giggle.

“Me too,” Minhyung added with a nervous scratch of his neck. He blinked at you as if he didn’t know what to say, and you noted that his eyes were exceptionally bright that day, twinkling vividly surrounded by the light of the corridor.

“Were you headed for the terrace?” You inquired just in case, and he nodded, albeit a bit timid. “Yoojung and Hendery are there, and they seemed to be having a moment, so I didn’t want to interrupt them.”

“Oh cool, great! I mean… it’s cool that they are there because I was just about to look for Hendery because he didn’t say where he went. But it’s also cool that they are there together. They seem to get along well.”

You could only agree with him, but it was rather adorable how he was tumbling upon his words even though he wasn’t the one in question who was having a moment. So why was his face getting redder and redder? Was it still the little bump’s aftermath?

“Yeah, I think so, too. Yoojung seems to like him.”

“As in like like him?” The boy’s eyes widened to double their size, his jaw hanging slightly. You bobbed your head, finding his bewilderment rather funny. “Oh my gosh, I think he likes her like that too, but he’s intimidated by her, so he doesn’t want to say anything. It’s like… you know… like… how there are some guys who are all cool and casual, but when they have a girl they like, they become different. It’s that vibe for me.”

The way Minhyung blabbered with wild hand gestures was quite cute, but the more he talked, the more he seemed to get carried away with his words, and in the end, you didn’t even know how you ended up getting to know stories about one of his palace guards’ love stories (a young man named Johnny who seemed to flirt with anyone and everyone), but there you were, listening to him with his lively intonations, watching his eyes shine and lit up whenever you reacted to his words, and it was just too surreal.

You were talking to a prince after all, but he was talking about the people around him at the palace as if they had been his neighbours. Maybe that’s why you enjoyed his company so much: apart from the warmth that he spread, he was a very down-to-earth person who didn’t judge anyone by their social status, but rather by their personality. Not all royalty were like that. One of the princesses had also joined the competition, and no one seemed to mind that she had not passed the second round because she had looked down on everyone around her.

In the meantime, you moved from the bottom of the stairs to an abandoned couch in one of the common rooms, time passing by quickly beside the boy. He was good at talking, but he was also an excellent listener, and you could always feel that he listened attentively for he always asked questions when he needed clarification or when he was merely curious about your side. This is how your reason for being here came up.

“Partly, I had no choice because of my parents, but I also came here because I wanted to. I feel like there are a couple of things that the Four Kingdoms could change to make magic more accessible for everyone and to regulate borders more efficiently, but my voice can’t be heard just by being my parents’ daughter. So I hope that I can be one of the students who can study at the school in the end, thus I can gain even more knowledge and let my voice be heard when I become a part of the senate or the consul.”

You weren’t afraid to share it with him because it was him after all, but at the same time, when he didn’t respond for a few seconds, the terrifying thought came to mind that your words might have implied that you weren’t happy with the way his parents ruled the kingdom. So you immediately turned to face him, but instead of shock being written on his face, it was actually awe painting his features.

“Wow, that’s so cool!” He blurted out, still a bit awe-struck, when he managed to pull himself together for a proper response. “From what you’ve just said and what I’ve heard from you already, I know that you would be able to make change in our kingdom and our systems,” he said so with a smile that could outdo the sun, and there it was, the warmth that you were speaking about. He radiated this gentle, calm, serene warmth, and it felt like a blessing that you could be a recipient of it.

“Really?” You voiced out, feeling a bit shy because those were big words, and hearing that from a prince - despite him being as humble as ever - meant a lot to you.

“Yeah, really. Absolutely. Totally. 100%,” Minhyung exclaimed, and you let your lips curl upwards as your heart swelled.

And maybe for the first time since you had applied, you could believe that there was someone else who believed in you - not because of your previous achievements like your parents, but genuinely because he knew what was the reason for you being here -, and that was enough reassuring to get you through until the third round.

One of the most difficult things about taming a power other than the one you had been born with was finding the right amount of control. For instance, you, who had come from the Air Kingdom, had a hard time regulating your control over fire - the third of the powers you learned to tame ever since being here - because fire was wild, rough and heavy compared to air. Taming air required a certain tenderness because you needed to know the right time and energy to hold onto it and shape it as you wanted whereas fire was unpredictable and holding onto it didn’t mean that you could hold onto it longer than a few seconds. It could easily blow out of proportion if you weren’t careful, but too little energy meant that you couldn’t keep the fire alive.

That’s why you were so afraid of the third round, and it didn’t help that the judges asked the most fire exercises from you out of the three powers you could be asked to demonstrate that day. It was reasonable though since you had already demonstrated that you could deal with air and earth to the extent that they had prepared you for, but still… the magic of fire still felt so unfamiliar to you, and a wizard was as good as its familiarity with its magic.

Despite your best efforts, you faltered when it came to a ball of fire that you were supposed to put out bit by bit. You had had the most difficult time with it during preparatory classes during the week too, and it didn’t help that it was the last exercise they asked of you. You lost control over the thread of magic, and the fire was put out sooner than you could think about how to resurrect it. There was no way you could save that, and you needed to gulp back a cry of shock when the fire vanished in a blink of an eye.

You could barely hear the judges thanking you for your efforts and asking you to join the others in a separate room. You could barely register your friends’ questions when you caught sight of them in one of the rooms because you were still replaying that moment of failure in your head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve totally messed up my air demonstration, too. I nearly made a judge fly from his chair, but come on, I’m used to fire,” Dayoung tried to reassure you, but if anything, the thought of both you and Dayoung being eliminated from the contest was even worse than just you messing up. Even if you didn’t make it, you would want them to make it, so you weren’t nearly as laid-back as her.

The others had similar experiences, so it seemed that demonstrating exercises that the judges asked of you instead of putting together your own demonstrations posed a challenge, and trying to showcase three types of elemental magic was tough for everyone, especially given that you had only one week to get to know the other two elemental magic types apart from your own one.

However, it was exactly the time limit that made this contest challenging, and that would signal to the judges who would be worthy to study at the school in the future. This whole contest was supposed to mimic how you could be challenged in the future - at the wizardry school and after finishing the 2 years here -, so you knew that you couldn’t always prepare to demonstrate your powers in front of a panel of judges, and you couldn’t expect to pass a physical ability test with flying colours when you weren’t used to using your power while exercising (something that you had every other day ever since being at the school), but it was frustrating to know how little it took to shake you and sway your power.

Little by little, your group assembled, and everyone had similar experiences - messing up exercises, losing control over their power and not being able to finish tasks in time -, so it seemed that it was a challenging round for everyone. Though since you knew that it could only get more difficult after this round as each was a bit more challenging than the previous one, you had to face the fact that the contest wouldn’t be as easy as you had thought before based on the success of the second round.

It felt like a lifetime before the judges panel gathered the remaining 100 contestants to announce the ones who could go on. There were familiar names and not so familiar ones, but your heart heaved a sigh when your friends were called one after one. Minhyung, Hendery, Xiaojun and Yoojung were all given the green light and asked to wait in the next room where the theme of the fourth round would be announced, so you stood back with Dayoung to wait for the rest of the list.

The more names were called, the tighter the knot in your stomach grew, and you felt weak in the knees when there were only 3 more spaces for students left, and both you and Dayoung remained. Out of the 100 contestants, only 80 could pass this time, so you prepared yourself for the worst, mentally preparing a speech to tell your parents after they would send you home.

“Miss Y/N!”

You felt like you were in a daze when your name was called, and you didn’t even have time to reciprocate Dayoung’s supporting words, you were already ushered towards the next room. Yoojung nearly jumped onto you when she saw you, but your little group’s joy didn’t last long because not long after you came in, the door of the room closed, and a blue-haired boy named Yeonjun from the Water Kingdom came in with the judges.

“Where is Dayoung?” Yoojung exclaimed, her eyes still holding hope but leaving room for doubt. You looked around wearily, but there was no way she could have gotten in without either of you noticing, so you had to come to the conclusion that she was… eliminated.

Your heart sank. You realised that ever since you had met the others, you didn’t think of the possibility of you not finishing the contest together. No matter how unrealistic it might have been, you had just not pictured it before, so now coming face-to-face with the fact that Dayoung didn’t make it was more than painful, it stung more than it would have done so if you had prepared yourself for this scenario. Oh, how foolish you had been…

“I appreciate that this was a challenging round for all of you,” one of the judges announced, dragging you out of your stupor. You shook your head, trying to concentrate on his words, but he seemed far away, everything around you seemed far away. “So I would like to congratulate you all even more because you passed the third round,” he continued, and there was a round of applause thundering through the room, but it wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as after the second round. Only about a third of you were there compared to when you got to the dormitory, and it showed.

“The fourth round will be a physical ability-induced one. Similar to the tests you have every other day during gym classes, you will have to go through an obstacle course that tests both your physical abilities and your magical powers. So I advise you to become really familiar with the obstacle courses that the school offers, if you haven’t already, because one of them will be your demonstration next week,” he paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. “The equipment itself won’t change, but the judges might alter the magical elements a bit according to their own judgement, and you need to pass under the given time limit. More details will be revealed during your first gym classes, but those who can fairly pass under the time limit can move onto the next round, there won’t be a cap on the number of contestants who can proceed this round,” he explained in detail, and there was a murmur going through the crowd of contestants. No one seemed to particularly like the so-called gym classes even if they were supposed to prepare you for a possible magical fight, but to have it as the theme of the next round made it all the more nerve-wrecking.

Not that you could grasp the situation in that moment because you were going through many different emotions all at the same time, and it was similar to taming each different magical element you had practised before - it was difficult to put your hand on the fine line between them as it all seemed like one big mess when you were overcome by all of their energy. You still felt like you were just watching the events unfold from an outsider’s point of view when the crowd was prompted to move back to their rooms, both because you made it and both because Dayoung didn’t.

You had never given much thought to how quickly the losing contestants were dismissed because you had never walked anyone to the gate of the school to bid your farewell.

However, you only had a few hours to help Dayoung pack before the gates would close for the day, and you would need to head back to your dorms. Even though the girl wasn’t as disheartened by her departure as you all were, the atmosphere wasn’t as light as it used to be.

“Win the contest for me!” She made you promise with a wide smile, and all of you - Minhyung, Hendery, Xiaojun and you - nodded fervently. If anything, you would try even harder from now on because you didn’t want to get used to saying goodbye to the friends you made here, and you didn’t want to put the others through this again. “And promise to write to me when you’ll be attending the school, and please, pull a few pranks on Wooyoung for me. That guy annoyed the hell out of me,” she huffed by the end, and her faked annoyance made you crack a little smile. Gosh, days would be less lively without her and her googly eyes at you and Mark as well as at Yoojung and Hendery.

Since visits weren’t allowed between kingdoms, the only way you could contact anyone outside of your own kingdom was through letters. They were also inspected at the borders, but they could be passed through border control, so that was the only way you would be able to communicate with her from now on. However, until the end of the contest, letters weren’t allowed either to minimise the chances of anything getting out about the themes of the rounds, so if you were lucky, you could only connect her again when you made it to study here.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him for you,” Hendery promised with a wink, to which Yoojung almost smacked him because she had been going on about how he should have acted like a prince instead of constantly teasing others (the girl included) and making trouble. Hendery always argued that here with you all at least he could be himself, just a boy, not a prince, and that seemed enough for Yoojung to bite back her response.

“I’ll miss you all, but don’t miss me too much, focus on the contest,” Dayoung warned you jokingly before you all embraced her in a big group hug. One by one, everyone bid their goodbye to her, and when it was your turn, you hugged her tightly once more, but before you would let go, she whispered:

“I’ve wanted to tell you later, but look around yourself every once in a while, Y/N. Someone might be falling in love with you,” she told you, a secretive grin on her face when she leaned back, but before you could ask her whom she meant by that, the guards by the gates notified you that you should say your last words to each other because it was time for curfew.

So you did let go of her, but Dayoung’s words rang in your ears every now and then, and you felt like you might have become a bit paranoid as you were trying to figure out who could like you. You didn’t receive flirtatious glances from boys at the canteen - well, Yeonjun was flirty, but he did give any girl a smirk who walked past him, so he didn’t seem like a likely candidate, and when you met Changbin’s eyes one day, he looked like he would kick you out of the contest sooner than have any romantic feelings for you -, and the only boys who were around most of the time were Hendery, Xiaojun and Minhyung.

You knew Hendery had eyes only for Yoojung, and the girl seemed to slowly realise her own feelings for him, Xiaojun was Xiaojun… and well, there Minhyung whom you thought was cute, warm-hearted and who could make you laugh and smile even after Dayoung’s departure, but he couldn’t be falling in love with you, right? He was a prince after all. Even though princes didn’t have to be with princesses, they should at least marry someone of high rank - a member of the senate, a consul or someone of such importance -, and you weren’t there yet. Even if you were, what were the chances of it working out? Both your parents and his parents seemed to be really strict, so that would most probably not happen.

Plus, ever since a guy provoked Hendery and Minhyung once during lunch, accusing the contest of discrimination because you were still in the contest with the boys (he didn’t seem to know of Dayoung already being eliminated), you wanted to keep your distance a bit. You didn’t need anyone to punch Hendery in the face again over something like that.

“I can’t believe he didn’t fight back,” Yoojung murmured during the following gym class when you were behind the three boys, and they were examining the bruise on their friend’s face. The girl was literally throwing daggers with her own eyes in the direction of Jaeeon who had provoked them, but the boy in question didn’t seem to take note of her glares. He had been given a warning that if something like that happened again, he would be sent home immediately, but that wasn’t enough to calm the petite girl’s nerves.

“You were the one who told him not to cause trouble because he’s a prince. He would have gotten into more trouble if he had punched back,” you reasoned as you moved along with the line, and while it was true that Hendery would have brought more disgrace to his family’s name if he had been the one to throw the punch, you wouldn’t have blamed him either. You were glad though that Xiaojun and Minhyung had been there to keep Jaeon off the prince, so the fight hadn’t escalated, thankfully.

Gym class was tough either way without any added drama because everyone was taking the obstacle courses seriously since none of you knew which one would be used for your testing in the fourth round. The fascinating thing about these obstacle courses wasn’t that they were made up of all these different hurdles, but how they stayed laced with magic. The technique beyond that was confidential, but you doubted that your teachers were working on keeping the magical parts of them alive - flames coming from both sides of a bridge that you were supposed to cross, water licking your feet as you were trying to jump from one rope to the other above a pool of water, a hill partly made of a steep side while the ground was shaking beneath you and such - whilst watching over you. Which meant that either they were enchanted in a way to store the magic in them or… you didn’t really know. That was beyond what you could imagine, and your parents didn’t tell you about such things.

One by one, you were supposed to cross the obstacle courses while using your powers to tame the magical elements or to bend them to support your journey along the way, and while you definitely improved from your first gym class, you still felt so out of control at certain parts. You would have a time limit in the fourth round, and that added pressure to the whole obstacle course, and when your mind was occupied with time ticking by, you couldn’t focus as much as you wanted, and that added more oil to the fire, and it kept repeating in a vicious cycle.

However, since you had witnessed the scene of Hendery being punched in the face and Jeeon provoking the boys because of their social status, you felt this bubbling rage inside of you which actually came in handy when it was your turn for the course that day. You channelled all that frustration and annoyance and bittersweetness into pulling the threads of the magical energies around you, into concentrating on the hindrances at hand, and sending enough power to the specific parts along the way to help keep you going - putting out the flames, tempering down the water beneath your feet, stopping the shaking of the ground and pacifying the wind around you. It worked because you managed to beat everyone’s record so far, but it also resulted in you being exceptionally weary after finishing.

“Oh my god, Y/N! You were on fire!” Yoojung hollered beside you when you made it through the given obstacle course for the day. You tried with a grateful smile, but it turned into more like a wince when you felt surges of pain shoot through your legs. Oh yeah, the all too familiar consequences of the adrenaline rush were kicking in, something that you had not yet gotten used to.

You took a few steps closer to the girl who was holding out a flask of water in your direction, but your legs felt wobbly, and you would have fallen if it had not been for someone catching your arms.

You looked up, half-expecting someone who was less of a stranger, not the boy whom you had been trying to stay away from since yesterday, but your heart betrayed you as it heaved a relieved sigh. It was silly, your brain told you, you only knew Minhyung for almost three weeks, you couldn’t have known him that well, and yet, your heart told you that you would be safe beside him, he got your back. But why? You had been searching for people’s hidden intentions all your life because your parents warned you not to make friends but rather allies because it was a cruel world out there after all, and yet… you could not find a possible hidden intention behind his big doe eyes twinkling and his lips forming the words, his brows furrowed solicitously:

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you bobbed your head, your eyes wandering to your arms that were held by Minhyung’s own, safe and sound, steady yet gentle. You were so used to holding yourself up, holding your head above the water, and not accepting anyone’s help like that, that you were dumbfounded as to what to do next, how to put an end to this.

“Get moving, jeez,” someone behind you rumbled, but before you could turn around to see who it was, it was probably that someone who pushed past with their shoulder crashing into yours. You had no time to react, your legs moved forward automatically, yet Minhyung’s didn’t, and you ended up falling down… together. To be precise, you falling onto him, and him holding you up by the waist.

And then, your heart betrayed you yet again as it skipped a beat. Even though your lungs had been on fire just a minute ago, now they were on fire for a different reason, and it was difficult to grasp what it was when all you could see was the depth of his orbs like tiny lakes with clear surfaces yet mysterious bottoms. All the outside noises seemed to fade away, your surroundings numbed as your heart raced alongside his as if the obstacle course had not ended yet.

Pushing aside the confusion regarding your own feelings, the one thing that you noticed and managed to blurt out was:

“You’re blushing,” you noted, your lips slightly parted, and despite having seen him flushed beside you and around you, you somehow felt like it was new… it was different this time.

“I’m not blushing,” the boy objected, his face taking on an even deeper shade.

“You are, dude,” Xiaojun called, and when you recognised his voice, all the hustle bustle of the gym class and all the outside noises came back at you in full force, making you feel dizzy. Somehow, falling onto him seemed almost serene compared to the mess around you.

You were both up to your feet in no time, and despite your friends’ stares and teasing words, you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the twinkling sensation that the boy’s touch left on your skin - it was as if he had marked you permanently, and you couldn’t get it off yourself.

It wasn’t only the room that you shared with Yoojung that became quieter without Dayoung’s presence, but the halls also became quieter, less lively. As if the walls could talk, students usually kept to themselves, and since you were scattered across different floors, the diminishing number of students seemed more striking. Now, you caught sight of the guards stationed by the entrance to the dormitory instead of being occupied with the conversations with your roommates, and the corridors seemed wider than before.

Everyone seemed tenser than usual, and it wasn’t limited to your little group only. Aside from Jaeeon, there had been a girl who had accused Gahyeon’s senate member parents of bribing the jury and had sent a streak of water at her who had managed to dodge it thanks to her quick reflexes, but the girl in question had only received a warning. You didn’t understand why, but your parents had warned you that it would be tough with all of the contestants wanting to make it to the final, and had told you that there were quite nasty incidents in the past, so the organisers had already seen a lot. That’s why disqualification was only after a warning or after a life-threatening move on a contestant’s side.

You didn’t think too much into it though, not until you were walking back to your room alone after practising for the fourth round, and the fire of the torches on both your left and right was suddenly put out. Since they were always on, it could only mean that someone put them out.

You listened to the approaching steps, trying to put your hand on the direction the sound was coming from, and as you turned around, you caught sight of Jaeeon walking towards you, his silhouette illuminated by the lights that he hadn’t yet put out.

You raised your chin, unwavering in the face of danger, because no matter how much Jaeeon thought that he had the upper hand, you weren’t a fragile little doll either. You felt your fingers prickling with the same kind of electricity it usually did before you unleash your magic, and just as Jaeeon was about to come to a halt a step away from you, you lit up the torches by your side. That much you could already summon with your ability to tame fire.

The guy let out a scoff, borderline amused, his eyebrows elevated slightly. His whole stance screamed hunger, hunger for control, hunger for a challenge, hunger for winning. Even though you weren’t supposed to use magic outside of practices or classes, let alone around others to manipulate the contest, you had already seen instances when it had not mattered, so you knew that the currently empty corridor wasn’t a completely safe space either. You forced yourself to stay calm though as you turned around, ready to get away from him - to ask for another student’s assistance or a guard’s help who could be patrolling the corridors at this time around.

“Are you really running away, little girl?” Jaeeon accused you, the nickname prickling at your skin. The implication behind his words sent an unpleasant chill down your spine, but you reminded yourself that it was exactly what he was trying to do: to trample on your ego, to make you question your worth and bravery. “You don’t have your little prince friends to protect you, and mommy and daddy aren’t here either to save you,” he continued relentlessly as he caught up with you, and even though you didn’t reach the end of the corridor, you were halfway through it.

“A girl like you is only wasting her time here. You should prepare to get married and pop out some kids, not to take someone’s place in a contest like this,” he added when you still didn’t speak up, and you bit down on your tongue to hold back what you were about to say. You knew that he wanted to rile you up, and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to see you give in, but still…

“Is it that hard for you to accept that a girl dared to beat all of the boys’ records in an obstacle course yesterday? Do you feel like by spitting this nonsense, I might feel scared and would rather pack my bags and leave?” You threw your questions at him as you threw him a side-glance. He was so annoyingly full of himself and the fact that he felt better only if he could bring others down made you sick to your stomach.

“Besides, a girl can enter the contest just as much as a boy can, and it is not against the rules,” you recited as you kept your gaze ahead of yourself instead of the boy walking beside you, but it was like talking to a wall. Just to prove to you that he didn’t play by the rules, the boy reached for your wrist and made you turn towards him.

“Do you think anyone cares here?”

His words were dripping with anger and frustration, but as to why he directed it towards you - when it wasn’t anyone’s fault that he felt threatened by those better than him even though he was the son of the head of the senate - was beyond you. Accusing you of still being in the contest was like speaking against himself too, but it might have helped him to sleep better at nights.

That didn’t mean that you had to put up with this, especially not when you felt his grip around your wrist getting… warm, and you winced when you felt the searing touch of his. He was using his fire magic on you, the burning sensation coming from his fingers directly, and you knew that he was stronger than you, so you didn’t have a chance to escape his grip, not when his touch was literally burning in the meantime.

Nevertheless, your rage regarding his audacity of using his magic on you was stronger than the pain you had to bear, and you felt a bolt of energy rushing through your body as the window beside you flew open, and you sent a gush of wind towards the boy. At first, it wasn’t strong enough to make him tear away, only to surprise him, but the more currents of air you could collect, the stronger your magic became.

You faintly heard someone calling your name in the distance, but all your focus was on the thread of magic inside and outside of you, and you shut everything else out. You concentrated on gathering all that power and channelling it onto the boy until you managed to push him away, making him fly a few metres before landing on the floor with a loud thud a few metres away from you.

You felt your legs wobble a bit after using all that energy in such a short span of time, and you might have fallen to the ground if someone had not held you up, framing your body. You had no more resistance left in you to push him away, but you were lucky that you didn’t because you got to know who he was a second later.

“Enough!” A thunderous voice could be heard in the silent corridor, and you looked up at the professor who taught you how to use the magic of earth, and who now assisted you to keep your feet on the ground. You saw another professor by his side, a woman who taught you how to train your mind to channel your powers, and they both seemed to be incredibly furious.

“Mr Park, you should have known better than to attack a student yet again. No matter who your father is, he isn’t here to save you, but the director will be waiting for you in his office. If you try with anything else on the way, just know that professor Choi and I were here to have heard how you provoked Miss Y/N. We could see how she tried to protect herself against you when you were breaking the rules yet again.”

“But professor Kim, I think she broke one of my ribs!”

“Speaking up in the right moments and keeping quiet when needed is a forte, Mr Park, and it seems that you do not possess it,” professor Choi warned him and she made her way towards the boy who was tossing on the ground like a kid who was throwing a fit. She had never seemed this intimidating during classes, but now you would have been afraid of her if her glaring eyes had been on you. Jaeeon seemed to get the message though as he got to his feet, though reluctantly and holding onto his side, but before he could even raise his arms, professor Choi snapped her fingers, and the boy’s arms were tied back by the sheer force of… magic.

Your jaw almost dropped, but you were too weary to react properly, so you just blinked at the duo as they were getting further away and eventually got out of sight after turning a corner. You still didn’t manage to pull yourself together when professor Kim started asking questions and ushered you towards the infirmary where a kind lady tended to your burn marks.

Even though you heard about healers who possessed a specific kind of magic that could undo such wounds, you had never met one, yet now you were blinking at your burn marks slowly fading and eventually disappearing.

“I… wow… thank you so much!” You blurted out, still in shock, but even her magic couldn’t erase the phantom feeling of the burning sensation around your wrist. You reckoned that it wouldn’t go away easily.

The lady smiled at you in a friendly way before putting some kind of cream on your skin, then wrapped your wrists in a bandage.

“Keep it on for the next two days, it will help to soothe all layers of the skin because I can only tend to the outer layer. Use the cream twice a day too, in the morning and at night, and it will heal completely afterwards,” she instructed gently, and you bobbed your head fervently as you received a pack of fresh bandages for changing and a tube of the said cream from the healer.

Professor Kim stayed beside you the whole time, but he didn’t say anything while the lady was tending to your wounds. He only spoke up when you were out of the infirmary, and he told you that they would station more guards in the corridors, but you shouldn’t worry because Jaeeon would surely be disqualified for trying to hurt you. Serves him right, you thought to yourself, but truthfully, so much had happened in such a short span of time that you felt like relief was a far away feeling in that moment.

“You were really strong back there. I have not seen your magic in such an intensity before,” professor Kim complimented with a fatherly smile of his, and you bobbed your head gratefully, albeit a bit timidly.

Well, it seemed that when you were in the face of danger, your magic didn’t abandon you or drain you, but rather, it empowered you, and despite the fact that it took Jaeeon to be disqualified, you could now believe that you were here for a reason. That you would be able to make a change while standing up for yourself and standing strong.

Needless to say, everyone got to know about your little incident pretty quickly because Jaeeon was forcefully sent home, and he sure made a hell of a show out of it as he sulked beside the guards who accompanied him through the corridors and outside the gates. The teachers also assembled the students to remind you all that rules had to be kept or else the consequences would follow. In their announcement, they briefly summarised Jaeeon’s wrongdoings including his recent attack which meant that all eyes were on you and your bandaged hand in an instant. Additionally, in order to set an example, they tightened security and stationed more guards along the corridors of the dormitory and even along the corridors to the training rooms.

Not that it mattered when your little group acted as if another Jaeeon could jump out from a drawer and attack you. It didn’t matter that you told them that you were fine, no permanent damage was done, and you could take care of yourself from now on just like you had done so before.

“My parents warned me that this competition would be a matter of life or death for some, so I should brace myself for such atrocities. I didn’t expect anything less,” you told them over dinner that night, and the chopsticks made a loud snapping sound when Yoojung dropped them on the table beside her bowls.

“Yah, why are those words something that you must accept? No contest should ever make you fear for your life. No contest is more important than someone’s life. This is not the war that had broken apart the United Kingdom of Magic,” she fumed like a bull, and honestly, in that moment, you couldn’t tell whether she was furious at you, your parents or at what had happened between you and Jaeeon.

It’s just… you knew that the girl meant well, but you had to give it to your parents that this contest brought the worst out of some people. Some of them really acted like their life depended on whether they made it to the finals or not, and if they had parents like you did (or the opposite, they had nothing, so they had to prove themselves and the others that they could make it despite their disadvantageous background), you would understand them. After all, part of the reason why you were here was because of your own parents.

“Yoojung’s right. You shouldn’t keep it to yourself if you’re frustrated or hurt. Just because these things could happen and might have happened in the past doesn’t mean that they should be the norm, that they shouldn’t change,” Minhyung reasoned once the silence that fell over the five of you didn’t seem that heavy anymore. The boy’s words were accompanied by fervent nods of the other two boys and your roommate as well.

“What can I do about it though? I can only hope no one else tries to attack me again.”

“Let us help you. You might think it’s silly to accompany you everywhere, but we definitely should do so for the time being,” Minhyung continued, his big doe eyes shining brightly. Even though you had tried to keep your distance from him and the other boys since their own incident with Jaeeon, it seemed futile now. You were too weary to push them away, and honestly, after what had happened earlier, you were glad to have allies by your side.

“Yeah, we’ll be like your bodyguards,” Xiaojun hollered as it was the best idea ever, but Hendery laughed his words off as if he had been joking. Xiaojun glared at him, slightly offended, but the other boy didn’t seem to notice.

“You? A bodyguard? Please, even I’m stronger than you.”

“What? No way! In your dreams, maybe.”

“I’m better at the obstacle course than you are, dude. It means either I’m physically stronger than you, or I’m a better wizard,” Hendery flashed him a grin, one of his eyebrows elevated in a teasing line, and Xiaojun could only huff in response since it was the truth.

“Oh god, they are worse than a group of girls,” Yoojung muttered under her nose and averted her eyes from the continuously bickering boys. She prompted you to eat up before your food would get cold, and you nodded. You didn’t have it in you to protest, and with Minhyung’s worried eyes still on you, you didn’t even want to make him more concerned, so you finished your dinner while listening to the bickering of Xiaojun and Hendery, something that managed to lift your mood a little.

As promised, the boys accompanied you and Yoojung to your room, and little did you know, that became a habit of theirs. At least until Xiaojun was sent home because he didn’t manage to finish the obstacle course in time (but he was pretty close, Hendery consoled him, taking back his words that he was better at that than the boy when you bid him your goodbyes by the gates), and so your little group was reduced from 6 to 4 whilst the number of contestants went from 200 to 32 in the past 3 weeks. Only one round was left, but you wondered just how many of you would pass the final round or be sent home.

Just like when Dayoung had departed, Xiaojun’s lack of presence was also palpable. Hendery couldn’t tease anyone since Minhyung wasn’t the kind he could bicker with because he wasn’t one who talked back (even playfully) to others. Minhyung frequently turned his head to the empty seat that was left behind when you sat in the canteen, and Yoojung seemed somewhat more protective over the remaining three of you.

You talked a lot with the girl at nights after you were done with your training for the day and after curfew, more or less serious topics arising in the darkness under the watching eyes of the moon. She was so similar in the way she was raised up, and her fears were also similar to yours, and it felt good to be understood by someone like her. It felt like you were less alone, especially after what had happened with Jaeeon and especially after how you had already needed to say goodbye to two of your friends.

Even though you hadn’t had any friends before, you would consider them your friends now, and it broke your heart that you might not end up making it to the wizardry school together. After Dayoung and Xiaojun had lost in the previous rounds, you didn’t dare to hope for a happy ending for everyone. Not when the next round’s theme was to compete against each other 1-on-1, but you would only know who your opponent would be on the day of the final round. You didn’t want to go against your friends, but there was still a chance that you might do so considering that there were only 32 of you left. So you not only had to worry about having to use your powers on another contestant, but also that it could be Hendery, Yoojung or Minhyung.

No wonder your nerves were more and more frazzled the closer you were to the day of the final round. Hence, you decided to escape to the terrace of the tower two days before the final round, looking over the buildings around - the senate building, the houses provided for the senate and council members, the building with the infantry and the canteen. It was crazy to think that 5 weeks almost passed by since you first entered the contest, and you were about to wrap it up soon.

A month ago, you had entered the gates for the first time that were now covered in the dim light of the torches attached to the walls and guarded by two muscular men, and you had been determined to make it to the wizardry school. Since then, you had managed to make friends, you had encountered enemies who had attacked you, and you had pushed your magic to the limit many times. You had been physically and emotionally weary, and you had wondered many times whether you would be enough, whether your magic and willpower to tame other kinds of elemental magic would be enough to be like your parents - to be a winner of the contest.

A month ago, you had wanted nothing more than to be over with it because you had been sure that you wouldn’t get along well with others, and you had been set on focusing on learning and wielding your magic only. After all, being part of the contest and learning from the highly influential wizards who were chosen as professors were already something that others could only dream of.

Yet now, you wanted nothing more than to stop time and enjoy being around those who had grown close to you because there was no guarantee that two days from now on, you would all stay together. After that, who knew when you would see each other again, especially with those who were from different kingdoms.

“Mind if I join you?” A gentle, all too familiar voice asked, and you snapped your head to look back at the sudden visitor. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even realised that someone else had showed up by the door to the terrace.

“Sure,” you replied, still a bit dazed, as you averted your eyes to the scenery in front of you. You heard Minhyung’s footsteps getting closer, and eventually, he sat down beside you.

He just sat there for a while without saying a word, his heart probably as heavy as yours. You couldn’t help but wonder whether he was also bitter about the contest ending because it was such a different experience for him compared to his time at the palace. A few days prior, he and Hendery had discussed how free they felt here because people didn’t watch their every move  here, they weren’t princes and heirs to the throne, they were contestants just like everyone else. Minhyung had also blurted out that this was the first time in his life he felt like he could be completely himself, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about that ever since.

“Are you scared of the final round? Of whom would you be up against?” You wondered out loud, hoping that he didn’t mind your question. Whenever your little group was together, it never came up, although you were sure that each and every one of you was pondering over the same. It was just difficult to bring it up when most probably everyone was anxious about the possibility of going against one another.

Minhyung looked at you, his big doe eyes wide in wonder and contemplation. Some said that the eyes were a replica of one’s magic, and it might have been true in the boy’s case because his eyes were bright like stars in the sky, and the onyx-black colour of them was like an endless, bottomless wonder. His orbs radiated warmth, and when he looked at you like that, it felt as if a gentle breeze embraced you. Yet, there was strength behind that warmth, strength that promised to keep you up, to reach out a hand if you were to fall down, and strength that would be able to move mountains if he wanted to.

“I’m just afraid it would be one of you. Other than that, I’m just sad it’s coming to an end. As much as it was difficult to endure, it gave me many good memories that I wouldn’t have had living at the palace,” he responded, his voice barely above audible. Maybe it was because of the early autumn breeze that danced around you two or because he wasn’t that sure about his answer, but he was quieter than usual. The looming uncertainty of the contest had its effect on everyone.

You bobbed your head nevertheless, taking in his answer. You couldn’t relate to him because you hadn’t grown up in a palace, but your parents had kept you pretty secluded from others apart from sending you to a wizardry school to tame your air element and outside of extra practices with other wizards. You had been told to be wary of everyone because you could never know what their intentions were, and even though you had long realised that your parents were over exaggerating, you had given up on making meaningful connections. That is until you had come here, and it had dawned on you that there was a whole world outside of magic no matter how much magic meant to you.

“If you had the chance, would you want to be reborn as someone else, not as prince Minhyung?” You found yourself asking after a few moments of silence, your own thoughts regarding your experience growing up making you curious about his side.

Minhyung clicked his tongue, unsure what to say for a few moments. Then, he let out a somewhat resigned sigh as he came to a conclusion.

“It’s difficult to say. I’m glad to have the life I have, but it has its restrictions, you know,” he shrugged as if he was fine with it, and you didn’t have a reason to question him. Then, he turned to you with his whole body, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “What about you? Have you never dreamed of being a princess?”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment, you were so shocked by his question. Truthfully, you had never really given yourself the chance to imagine yourself as a princess, maybe because you had always been so occupied with who your own parents were. That’s why you merely let out a wholehearted chuckle upon his question, a joyous sound that was swept up by the autumn breeze passing around.

“Oh god, no,” you shook your head, even just the image of you in all those fancy, tight-fitting dresses making you shiver. That was not a life you wanted for yourself. “I don’t think princesses have it any easier than me. Besides, they have to fake their smiles all the time, and I don’t think I could do that for a long time.”

“Fair point,” Minhyung tilted his head, his facial expressions returning to their previous solemn state, a sign that what he was about to say would be genuine and raw. “I think we have it bad at times too, but princesses…” He shook his head, and you could swear he shivered a bit. “They have it even worse. You too, women, do have it harder. I’ve always thought that might be an exaggeration, but I’ve heard enough here during the contest to know that it’s not,” he confessed, and his words took you aback.

Since he didn’t have a sister and his mother - the Queen - was treated very differently than an ordinary woman living outside of the palace, he might not have known just how difficult being a woman with magic was. There were significantly more men in the kingdoms’ councils and in the senate, and there were more male professors here as well, simply because women were supposed to give birth to children and with that, a part of their magic lived on in their children’s bodies, meaning that people believed that they were less powerful than men. Which wasn’t always the case because mothers with less magic than before could still be more powerful than men who didn’t tend to their magic, but people believed whatever they wanted to believe. Your mother had also fought hard to maintain her position as a senate member and to have the respect of the senate members, but it helped that your father was working in the senate alongside him.

So for him to admit something like that truly showed his maturity and his compassion. You had never heard anyone admit that women had it harder than men, and this confession coming from a man was even more admirable. Not to mention that he was a prince, and the royal families were famous for not acknowledging the faults in the systems they had put in place, no wonder your heart skipped a beat. If he had not already earned your respect, he would have definitely done so now.

“That’s something that I want to change if I have the chance,” you added, knowing that he wouldn’t be appalled by your words, and indeed, he was far from bewildered.

“You will,” he said encouragingly instead, and when your eyes met, your heart leaped. Somehow with him by your side, you could believe it, you could believe that you would be able to bring about a change. “Even if you won’t, I will help you change it,” he promised solicitously, the moonlight painting little streaks of dirty white lines onto his skin. As the prince of the Air Kingdom, he really did look like the epitome of air - you felt like you could breathe beside him, and it was a little easier and lighter to be around him than anyone else, his warmth filling up your lungs and planting little seeds of hope alongside your blood vessels.

More than ever, you wanted nothing more than to stop time and enjoy that moment just a little longer.

The rules were simple for the final round, though they were more like guidelines. You had 15 minutes to win over your opponent. You could use all of the different kinds of elemental magic that you had been learning how to tame, but you couldn’t use other weapons - such as knives or daggers -, so you had to rely on air, earth, fire and water solely. Your aim was to make your opponent say that they surrender, so you will automatically win the fight, not to kill them or hurt them badly. Each contestant’s fighting gear was designed to protect them against serious injuries, so you wore tight-fitted clothes that covered your legs, arms and even your neck. The material gave you enough flexibility to move around and channel your magic, and your training boots gave you enough hold in case you needed to climb or keep your feet on the ground against currents of magic.

On top of that, each pair was put in a training room that had the elements of an obstacle course dotted around - such as steep climbing walls, a pool of water and wooden boards -, and enough space to fight in the middle in case someone didn’t want to make use of the equipment around. Each room was designed to be able to gather all kinds of elemental magic, so no one could be at a disadvantage when calling for the kind of magic they wanted. If a fight got too intense or appeared threatening to a contestant’s life, the judges who would otherwise be stationed by the sides of the rooms would interrupt the game.

The judges also had the right to stop a fight, to disqualify a contestant for breaching the rules, or to select a winner if the time limit was up. In the case of the latter, the judges could choose whether they would give both contestants the chance to win, only one of them or neither of them. That’s why it was better if one could win the fight within the time limit because that would guarantee an immediate pass.

There were 16 pairs in total, and you would be separated into four groups, each group having the same room for themselves with the same set of judges overlooking the fight. If needed, the judges would move the materials inside the room around and clean up after between two rounds to ensure fairness.

Yet, the most important of them all was the final list of pairs that was announced after the judges read the rules out loud yet again - the same set of rules that they had introduced a week prior. The more names were called, the more anxious you became, and even though it seemed that contestants from mostly different kingdoms were put together, it didn’t help to soothe your nerves because only Minhyung could be ruled out. Boys and girls were also up against each other, not only same sex pairs were announced, so there was no way you could predict whom you could be up against.

“Kim Seunghun from the Fire Kingdom will be against Ju Haknyeon from the Earth Kingdom. Bong Jaehyun from the Air Kingdom will be against Kim Bora from the Water Kingdom,” the list went on, and you could feel Yoojung beside you becoming more and more uneasy. She started shifting her weight from her left leg to her right, and you gave her a half-smile when she caught you glancing her way.

“Lee Yongsoo from the Earth Kingdom will be against prince Minhyung from the Air Kingdom.”

You let out a relieved sigh when you heard Minhyung’s name being called, and turned to your left to see the boy doing the same. Yongsoo was a nice guy, not an easy opponent, but at least he wasn’t one of you. One down, three more to worry about.

“Kim Yubin from the Fire Kingdom will be against Y/N from the Air Kingdom,” the announcer listed, and you heaved a sigh. Yubin was pretty intense as most fire wizards were, but you and Yoojung had been helping each other to train, so you knew what weaknesses to look out for and what kind of techniques you could pull on her to make her surrender. You hoped that what you had been practising before wouldn’t leave you within those 15 minutes either. Most important of all: you weren’t up against either of your friends.

“Park Serim from the Earth Kingdom will be against Choi Yewon from the Air Kingdom. Shen Xiaoting from the Fire Kingdom will be against Kim Jibeom from the Water Kingdom. Prince Hendery from the Water Kingdom will be against Choi Yoojung from the Fire Kingdom.”

An audible curse word left Yoojung’s lips in the next moment, followed by some murmurs from the others around. Everyone knew that the four of you had become pretty close, so this exact pairing seemed to be the most interesting one for others so far. The murmurs grew so loud that the announcer had to order them to keep quiet before announcing the rest of the pairs.

You reached for Yoojung’s hand to squeeze it, but the girl didn’t squeeze back. Instead, she stared at something behind you, and when you followed her gaze, you could see that they were staring at each other with Hendery in shock. You could totally understand their bewilderment, and truthfully, you didn’t want to think about who would win the fight. They were both so powerful, so skilled, you could only hope that they would both make it after the time limit would be up. That was the only way both of them would be able to win, and honestly, if you could hope for one thing, it would be that both of them make it.

You had no time to ponder over the possible outcome of the final round as the list of the pairings soon came to an end, and the contestants were ushered in the direction of their appointed rooms. You shared a quick glance with Minhyung who directed an encouraging smile at you, and you tried to smile back, though you had no idea how nervous it might have turned out. In no time, you were separated from all three of them as your group headed in a different direction than theirs, so you could only keep them in their thoughts and hope for the best.

A chill ran down your spine as it dawned on you that this was it; there was nowhere to hide now, no way you could escape your future. Whatever lied ahead of you, however the final round would turn out, it would be over, and it would most definitely seal your fate. It was now or never, and if not for yourself or for your parents, you had to win for your friends. You wanted to enter the wizardry school, and you wanted to study with them. There was no other way it should play out, you had to win.

Within your group, Serim and Yewon were the first ones to go, and you would follow right after. Your opponent, Yubin didn’t say a word to you before you were called inside, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t friends to wish each other good luck, nor were you enemies to spit at each other before you would go against each other. Mentally, you tried to prepare for the adrenaline rush and the intensity of the fight, but nothing could prepare for what was about to come.

Those approximately 15 minutes until the doors to the room flew open again seemed like an eternity, and the more you tried to calm yourself, the more nervous you felt. The anxiety that had been going through your body in the previous rounds couldn’t be compared to how you were feeling now.

You sucked in a deep breath when you walked into the room, and despite the fact that you had been here before, it wasn’t the same. Not the setting, not your state, and definitely not what was at stake.

“Remember, you have 15 minutes. 3 minutes and then 1 minute before the time limit is up, we will let you know that the end of the round is approaching. Now, give it your all! Good luck!” One of your professors introduced and with a flick of his hand, the torches alongside the walls of the training room bolted, lighting up the equipment around, signalling the beginning of the fight.

You looked around briefly, taking in the sources of magic - the pool of water, the fire in the torches, the air sweeping through the ceiling that was open fully and the trees swaying on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling windows -, and the equipment that you could work with - a climbing wall, a ladder made of ropes hanging above the pool of water that connected a wooden bench to a smaller version of a look-out tower. There was a giant oak tree with lowly hanging branches - you had no idea how they managed to summon that inside as you had never seen one in an obstacle course before -, and there was a rotating circular platform with a variety of different sized pillars attached to the platform.

You could see from the corner of your eyes how Yubin took in your surroundings before she made the first move. As expected, she used her own magic to attack with first - throwing a fireball at you - and since you had a feeling she would do so, you swiftly reached out your hand in the direction of the pool and threw a ball of water against the fireball. The two currents of magic collided in the middle.

You gathered the threads of air around you and pushed it towards the girl who stumbled a bit backwards, but not enough to gain an advantage. So you gave it another push, forcing the girl to jump on the circular platform if she didn’t want to be thrown off by it. In the meantime, you made your way towards the tree, trying to gather as much energy from the earth as possible.

Your plan was to shake the ground enough for the girl to keep swaying after she got off the moving platform, but you couldn’t summon enough of its magic in time. Instead, Yubin threw another fireball at you, and it would have hurt you (but not burned your body apart from your face since your protective gear would take care of it) if you hadn’t managed to jump out of its direction.

Afterwards, you kept pushing currents of energy into the other’s direction, but no matter how hard you tried, the girl always stood up after falling down or managed to weaken your magic with her own - sending little drops of water back at you with her air current when you tried to send a rush of water at her or putting out your fire when you tried to burn the wooden bench beneath her feet.

“3 minutes left!” The judges shouted over the noises of your fight, and the knot in your throat became tighter. You had to think of something to use against her and to surprise her with because you might not be able to win against her in time if you didn’t do so.

So instead of attacking, you used the air around you to carry you towards the look-out tower at one end of the ladder with Yubin being on the other end of it. Thinking that you might want to burn down the ladder of ropes between you two, the girl started running towards you, but little did she know, that’s exactly what you wanted her to think so whilst you were summoning the magic of water in the pool beneath her. Despite the fact that water wasn’t your elemental magic, you didn’t need to think whether you could be gentle enough with it because you wanted the opposite: you had to use the water to lash out on her to make her falter, so that she would fall into the water.

“What the…” You could hear Yubin exclaim as the water beneath her started bubbling, and then you reached your hands out to aim your attack at her. The water shot into her and instead of falling down into the pool, the girl was thrown into the air carried by the wild waves before she was thrown off to the ground beside the pool.

You fell to your knees after the rush of magic left your body. It was as if the air was sucked out of your lungs, you had never used so much energy on one spectacle before. You fought for air just as much as Yubin did so, but the girl also coughed up water, her whole body trembling after she was basically thrown off by a huge strike of water.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest, your body screaming for rest, but it couldn’t stop, the adrenaline kept you going. So you got to your feet, holding up your hands to gather more energy, but when Yubin caught sight of your move, she lifted one of her hands, and announced, still panting:

“I surrender.”

The weight of the word didn’t even get to you at first, but when it did, you fell back to your knees - out of joy this time. You did it, you really did it. You won this round, and it meant that you were one of the finalists of the contest.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You won your final round,” one of the judges confirmed, but it felt like he was speaking from somewhere far away, you were still so into the game, your brain was still trying to come up with ideas to win, and that feeling didn’t go away easily.

You still felt jumpy as if you had to be prepared for another attack when you were instructed to leave the room and wait for the remaining two pairs in your group to finish. You didn’t know why, but each contestant was sent into a different room where a nurse tended to their potential bruises, cold bodies, slight concussions and such. You also had a few scratches, but you could barely concentrate on anything other than the fact that you made it.

No wonder time seemed to move differently when you were in such a dazed state, and it felt like only a few minutes passed by, not more than half an hour when you were called in for the wrap-up of the contest. Judged by the number of contestants called into one place, you guessed that they were the winners, and when you spotted Minhyung in the crowd, you smiled so wide, it almost hurt. The boy threw away any insecurities as he rushed to embrace you, warm and tight, before letting go of you when embarrassment hit him (hit both of you), blushing a bit.

“Sorry. I just…”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you waved off his excuses immediately, but your face flushed just as well. You gave him a nervous chuckle, and he did the same, and gosh, the certainty of knowing that you would spend the next 2 years studying at the same wizardry school as him warmed your heart.

After exchanging a few words with Minhyung, you looked around, searching for a familiar pair of fired-up eyes or the familiar messy locks of deep-brown hair. Truthfully, you hoped that Hendery and Yoojung would silently agree on waiting out the 15 minutes without announcing surrender, but judging by the frazzled up state of Yoojung’s, it didn’t exactly go like that.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” the girl held up her hand, frowning, before you could ask how it went, and even though you exchanged a confused glance with Minhyung, you decided not to push the girl for details.

Not that you had time to do so because the judges announced the end of the contest, and congratulated those contestants who were in the room because you were the ones who won the final battle and ultimately made it into the wizardry school. You saw a few familiar faces around - including the muscular Changbin, his equally muscular roommate Serim and their ever so flirtatious friend Yeonjun, the classy Xiaoting, the jokester Seunghun, the fierce Gahyeon, Tzuyu and Yeoreum who shared the room on your left, Yohan who was Xiaojun’s roommate - and there were other girls and boys whose names you couldn’t quite remember, but none of them was Hendery, so you didn’t want to pry until Yoojung was ready to talk about it.

“And now, you can bid goodbye to your peers who didn’t make it, and you can all pack up to head home before coming back here to study with us. See you in 2 weeks, our prosperous students, the future of the Four Kingdoms’ United School of Applied Elemental Magic!”

Loud cheers reverberated from the walls after the judges put an end to the closing ceremony, and you became one with the relieved crowd as you walked down the corridors to go back to your rooms.

The corridors of your future school.

There were a lot of different kinds of goodbyes. For the past weeks, you felt like you had experienced quite a lot of them. It wasn’t the same saying goodbye to your parents with the weight of their expectations on your soldier as saying goodbye to the friends you had made when they had been sent home or now when you were saying goodbye to the school building for 2 weeks before moving in again.

You all - both winners and the ones who lost in the final round - had one day to pack your stuff and leave the school buildings behind. The winners had to pick up their certification regarding their result as well, but it’s not like you were treated differently on your final day. You would have two years either way to get to know the professors, each other and all the little corners and corridors of the buildings that you hadn’t yet been to. You had all the time on your hands now despite the fact that you felt like you had been running against time week after week whilst being in the contest.

Thankfully, no one threw a tantrum, no one made a scene when the final results were out, so the day you had to pack and bid your farewell was spent in peace. Truthfully, you were immensely relieved that you had passed the final round, but you were also weary from using up so much of your energy the day before (and all the other days before), so you didn’t have a lot of energy left to celebrate. Yoojung was the same, she was rather frustrated over the fact that Hendery had purposefully surrendered, or at least, she thought so.

“It’s not like I didn’t go easy on him. I did so because I wanted us to hold onto until the end of the 15 minutes, so the judges would let us pass. Instead, almost right before the time limit was up, the boy shouted that he surrendered when I burned down the tree beside him. That’s it, I didn’t even hurt him seriously! He did it on purpose to let me pass, that dumbass. I was so angry at him because this wasn’t our plan! And when I asked him why he did this, he said that he had his reason. That coward, he didn’t even want to tell me!” She huffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance while packing her clothes into a bag.

Her usual chattering was replaced by her fuming, her wide smiles replaced by deep creases on her forehead. You knew that she wasn’t one to mess with when she was agitated (she was from the Fire Kingdom after all, her stare felt intense and flaming hot when she was mad), so you let her complain all about the boy. The best thing you could do was to not take sides, even when she claimed that she didn’t want Hendery to explain himself afterwards because he had his chance to do so, now she didn’t even want to see him again.

She eventually did so anyway because Minhyung and Hendery seemed to be waiting for you two in the hall, all packed up and ready to go home. Yoojung was stern like a rock beside you the whole time the boys were chatting about how they couldn’t decide whose socks were on the floor because neither of them had packed for themselves, it had been their servants from their respective palace.

As you listened to the boys’ chatter, you realised that Hendery didn’t look regretful, not at all. You assumed that he knew what he had done, and he took responsibility for it, so you didn’t want to question his actions. Instead, you joined in on the conversation when they were talking about their favourite memories from the contest, and eventually, you all walked through the gates of the wizardry school, leaving the school grounds.

You caught sight of your father standing idly by himself not far from the gates and there were carriages stationed around the giant fountain that symbolised the four kingdoms’ appreciation for the school - four different hands reaching for one circle in the middle -, so you guessed that courtiers were sent for the princes as well.

“Oh, I think I’ve gotta go,” Minhyung concluded as he looked around, and he scratched the back of his neck rather sheepishly when he turned back to you all. He did an odd hand shake with Hendery (did they come up with it themselves?), bobbed his head at the still frowning Yoojung, then looked at you, and suddenly, he looked completely unsure of himself, his fingers clenching and unclenching.

“I’ve gotta go, too. See you guys in two weeks!” Yoojung announced abruptly, then turned on her heel without further notice, and started walking further away from you. Hendery looked totally dumbstruck before bolting after the girl without saying a word to you.

You and Minhyung exchanged a glance after you had awoken from your stupor. Then, your lips turned into awkward little curves, the right words not appearing on your tongue. There was so much to say, so much to reminisce about, and yet… You just stood there awkwardly like two little kids.

You couldn’t help but be reminded of his warm hug after the final round, and deep down, you wished that he would do it again. If there was an embodiment of comfort, it would be him, and you were enchanted, under his spell, there was no other way to explain why you were feeling the way you did. You had been close to him before as well - when you had fallen over him during the obstacle course -, but it had been accidental back then. Yet, his hug could not have been accidental the day before.

“So…” The boy unclenched his jaw as he cleared his throat. “We’ll see each other soon, right? You know, take care until then… and try not to miss me too much,” he added belatedly with a wink, then burst into laughter. It sounded like birds chirping on a spring day, so joyful and so carefree. “Gosh, that was really bad, wasn’t it?”

“I mean…” you laughed along with him, this new, borderline flirty side of him blooming flowers of hope in your chest. “It was unexpected, but it wasn’t that bad,” you admitted between little fists of laughter, and your lips settled into a gentle smile. You would miss him, you could feel it in your core, but not being able to see him for two weeks before studying together for two years was a little sacrifice compared to what you would get afterwards.

“You too, take care,” you filled the silence before it could stretch further, and this time, it was you who closed the distance and embraced the boy. It was brief, it was a spur-of-a-moment decision, but you didn’t mind. Not when the boy’s face flushed like a torch afterwards and your heart was doing little somersaults. It was all worth it, and there was no denying anymore that you were enchanted by him.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think.

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for NCT or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Masterlist for the abovementioned request event can be found here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 2: I'll Never Let You Go Again Like I Did

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Little bit sad, DENIAL, Homophobic Comments (Soldier Boy), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of using drugs, Sexism, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of torture (Soldier Boy's Time in Russia) Loneliness, Longing (I mean… as close as Soldier Boy can get to it), Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.4K

Song Inspiration For This Chapter: Until I Found You (chapter title is lyric from this song) and Coming Back For You

Note: Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

Playlist for Series (Spotify)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Oh my goodness I'm so excited about this series and thank you so much to everyone for all the wonderful love and support so far! It really means the world to me 🥰

One Year Ago: Ben POV

Ben squinted his eyes as he stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of the early morning, shouldering the strap of his worn backpack with a huff. The people on the crowded, gum covered sidewalks shot him odd looks and gave him a wide birth as he made his way down the path, but he didn't care, in fact he didn't notice them. His mind was somewhere else.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just that something in the pit of his stomach was pointing him in this direction. Ben had started walking in what he thought was the way to Legend's apartment, but the streets looked so different than the last time he was in New York and he was a little turned around, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

And there was something in the pit of his stomach, some instinct or gut feeling, that was telling him he needed to go this way.

It was an odd feeling that prickled on the back of his neck, as if he'd forgotten something. Ben wondered what exactly it was that he'd forgotten. He hadn’t spoken aloud to anyone other than the scientists who kept him locked in a cage so he didn’t exactly have a social calendar to follow up on.

I've been locked in a lab for forty fucking years, what is there to forget?

But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed just out of reach.

Ben raised his eyes from the sidewalk with a sigh to look at the people passing by, taking in their new clothing and different hairstyles to distract himself. He frowned at the bizarre groups of people to him that flit by on their merry way, muttering little things under his breath about how things used to be.

Ben had a feeling that he was going to be doing that a lot.

New York City was different, the same, but different. Even though Ben had been gone for forty years, it still felt like the center of the universe. There were still hot dog vendors on every street corner, still magazine stands with freshly printed newspapers that smelled like ink and were warm to the touch, still coffee shops that lined the streets and caffeinated the masses, and there were still cab drivers who wove through traffic as if they were unstoppable shouting at pedestrians as they went.

The memories he had of old New York City merged together with what he was seeing around him and felt himself slipping into the past only to be jolted back into reality by the strangeness of the future.

He didn't like feeling disoriented, but it was there, brimming just under the surface. His body was tense as he walked prepared for anything, unable to relax as he continued on his way to wherever the hell it was he was going.

The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the skyscrapers that worshiped the rising sun and the sounds of the city vibrated against the brick and mortar. There was a buzz of electricity in the air, the low hum of power that Ben could always hear beneath it all. Cars honked sharply, people shouted in colorful language to one another, and the wind rustled through the long strands of Ben's hair crinkling against his ears and scratching against his neck.

He hadn't had time to cut it or his beard and it didn't seem to be as important as finding Legend and getting his affairs in order.

The smell of hotdogs, earth, cologne, and heavy perfume wafted up with the breeze that tugged and pulled at his sweatsuit. The same stained sweatsuit he had found in a rust covered locker before hiding in the cargo hold of a plane headed back to the U.S that was probably almost as old as him. The plane ride had been long, but when he'd been in a lab for the past forty years it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. He spent the whole time stewing in his thoughts. He'd slept enough and like hell he was going to drift off and let those Russian fucks take him again.

Ben sighed when he felt his memories begin to unravel on the edge of his mind, unfurling and asking to be relived. It wasn't unusual or unwelcome. Ben was using those memories to justify what he was going to do to his old team. As long as the rage continued to burn against his skin, Ben would have no problem breaking each of them down piece by piece.

Ben didn't understand how his team could have done that to him or why they'd done it to him. He thought that he'd been a good leader, a good American, a good soldier, a good hero, and yet they'd all stabbed him in the back. Sure, maybe he'd been a little rough on them, but Ben saw it as the only way to toughen them up. They needed thicker skin if they were going to survive in a world like this.

All I've done is give my fucking life to this country and what did they do? They gave me to the fucking reds.

His hand tightens on the strap of his backpack as he weaves through the crowds, trying his best to keep to himself when all he can feel is his anger and frustration building and burning hot under his rib cage. His new power stirred beneath the surface, energy beginning to travel through his body, tracing his veins and pulsing in the center of his chest.

I should have seen it coming. I should have killed that entire fucking bunch of pussies the second I had the chance. Especially that bitch.

His frowned at the thought of Countess.

Truthfully, when the two of them started messing around it was only because Countess's soulmate had died a few years before and Ben knew he wasn't going to meet his soon if anytime. He'd messed around with plenty of other women for the same reason and well…

Ben's frown deepened as he stepped around a couple that was walking arm and arm, the dates on their wrists flashing gold in the sunlight. He ignores the feeling that comes when he sees them, pushes it down into the deep recesses of his mind as he has done his whole life.

Since he was a kid, Ben wasn't sure that he believed the "soulmate thing." Sure he'd seen hundreds of other people around him find "the one," but Ben wasn't sure that he was made to be a soulmate. Especially not with a birthdate on his wrist so far in the future. He assumed that it meant he wasn't going to get a soulmate and he'd spent the better part of his life pretending that he didn't care about that. He was a man after all, and Ben didn't want to need anyone. At least, that was what he told himself.

Ben had lived long enough to see other soulmates find one another, witnessed the goofy looks on their faces when they locked eyes for the first time, and had the super hearing to listen to what came next.

But instead of focusing on the impossibility to meeting his own, Ben focused on the lie he told himself, that it seemed ridiculous to be intertwined with someone as soon as he was born. Not to mention that Ben wasn't sure that he wanted to be with someone, not when he didn't age and not when he'd have to watch whoever it was, if anyone turn to dust.

Yes, he could see himself settling down with someone, having a few kids, but Ben wasn't sure that whoever was supposed to be his other half was within reach anyway so why care? Ben knew that he didn't age, but he didn't actually think he'd ever get to meet you or that you would actually ever exist. Not when you were born so far away from him and not when he'd been trapped in that lab.

But that didn't stop a part of him from thinking about the possibility of meeting you. When things were quiet in the lab and he was left alone for a few precious moments, he felt his mind begin to slip into the question of what if?

What if you existed and what if you came for him?

He knew that it was a long shot. The only people that knew he was there were the people who stabbed him in the back. And Ben didn't want to cling to some fantasy, it felt feminine to fanaticize about the person who was supposedly meant for him breaking down the thick metal door and pulling him from the lab.

Again, Ben was trying not to believe in the "soulmate bullshit."

Countess had been a way of passing the time as had the numerous other women, but with them were moments when he'd feel something odd settle in his chest, something that he never could put a name to. In those moments he would raise his right arm and look at the birthdate printed on his wrist, the same one that Ben had kept hidden for most of his life, the one that when he was a boy people mocked him for, and the one his father chastised him for having as if it was Ben's fault that some celestial body had decided to single him out.

All of his childhood friends had found their soulmates and Ben had spent the better part of his life covering it up to avoid the conversation that always happened when someone saw the date. No ones soulmate was born so far in the future and Ben’s father had spent a lot of money making sure that word didn’t get out his son was a freak.

His father already made Ben feel like a disappointment and a fuck-up, but Ben was already thinking it himself every time he looked at the date printed on his wrist that seemed impossible. When his mother was alive she would try her best to make Ben feel better telling him that it wasn't impossible, that one day it would all make sense, but after her death Ben stopped feeling comfort, joy, and anything warm. All he felt was the cold shoulder from his father and the words that Ben pretended didn't hurt when his father was halfway through his second bottle of scotch with a third prepped and waiting on the kitchen table.

It made Ben feel like a pussy every time he looked at the mark and thought about his future soulmate, but he did it in private, usually after he'd had a few glasses of something and a few puffs or snuffs of something else to numb his mind. And he'd allow himself a single moment to think of you, wonder if he'd ever meet you, and wondered if you'd ever actually exist. In those few fleeting moments he believed in soulmates, but then he'd snap out of it and wake up the woman in bed next to him to distract him for another hour or so.

Ben's eyes flick to his right wrist covered by the gray and maroon tracksuit, his brow furrowing together. He was trying not to think about you or rather the possibility of you today. He didn't have time for that, not when all he wanted was to make his old team pay for everything they did to him.

But there was a little whisper of something in his ear, a small wisp of hope that he had finally made it to you, the one thing he didn’t think would ever happen, that he lived long enough to be alive the same year you were, and that you were out there somewhere waiting for him.

No. Ben tenses. I'm not going to think about her, not when those butt fucks need to be dealt with. I'm going to go to Legend's and then I'm going to-

He didn't see you in front of him until it was too late to move out of the way. Your body hits his full on in the chest, sending the bagel between your lips tumbling into the street, but Ben barely feels the hit, what he does feel is the dam he built forever ago burst open and warmth soaks into his body. Electricity skitters along his skin, crackling in the air as his eyes lock with yours only for a second. He feels like he's caught fire, as if the pieces of himself deep down inside are overheating and vibrating until there's nothing left, but you and him.

Any thoughts he had of his team and revenge are lost in the flood of emotions that fill the hole inside he tried so hard to ignore with the lie he continued to tell himself: “I don't believe in soulmates.”

And yet, there you were.

He can hear his heart and yours beating together as one, his own pounding so hard under his ribcage as if it wishes to break free and cross the space between your bodies. Seeing you for the first time feels like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp jolt backwards when it lands and the pinch of flesh against Kevlar. It was worth the bruise if looking at you was the same way each time.

Ben can feel the world slipping away, going silent, and in that silence Ben is lost in you.

Holy Fuck.

You were the perfect amalgamation of every single beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen and fantasized about in his entire life. And yet you weren't what he was expecting. Over the years Ben had bedded many women, the ones who captured his attention for a night, but none of them were anything like you.

In all the ways those women were bold and dramatic you were confident, but not boisterous, beautiful but not haughty, respectful but not prude, and there was a kindness reflected in the warmth of your eyes that Ben had never seen before, but there it was staring back at him unblinkingly.

You reminded him of the women that came arm in arm with men to his parents lavish parties when he was a boy, the ones who were classically beautiful and reserved with the golden dates on their wrists catching in the light. The exact kind of woman he hadn’t seen for the better part of eighty years and the opposite of the women who had thrown themselves at his feet forty years ago.

Your hair falls forward into your face from the force of your body hitting his and Ben itches to push it back, to touch you, to feel his skin against yours to quench the burning that he can feel in his soul.

All of his instincts are telling him to pull you against him, that you're too far away even though you're standing only inches apart.  That he needs to breathe the same air and feel the warmth of your skin against his rough fingertips.

The birthmark on his right wrist sears his skin and he knows what it means, that you're the woman he's been looking for his whole life, the woman that always seemed just out of his grasp, the woman that was made just for him, and the woman he thought would never exist.

He watches your eyes widen with the same realization about him behind your round glasses, eyes that are the perfect color and eyes that Ben can imagine staring in to every day for the rest of his life. He'd never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman, never wanted more, but all of that fades into you.

The idea of a soulmate no longer seems ridiculous, no longer seems like something he’d never have, not when he’s looking into your eyes and nothing else seems to matter.

Not when looking at you is like seeing the sun sink into the earth at the end of the day and feeling the hope that it'll rise the next morning.

The lie he told himself for so long is slipping away the longer he stares at you, because although he never wanted to want anyone he knows that he needs you. It's an odd feeling for him. He's never once cared about anyone, told himself that it was weak to, that having a soulmate was a stupid idea and not for him, but all of the things he ever thought about soulmates is evaporating in the heat that is consuming his body by being in your presence.

Why now?

The thought makes the world come back into sharper focus.

I've lived decades without her and now the moment I come back to the U.S I just run into her?

It was laughable .

The moment of clarity allows the fantasies of his revenge to come creeping in and Ben feels the anger and rage ebbing on the edge of the wonderful feeling building in his chest when he looks at you.

You weren't a supe. Ben could tell that just by looking at you. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so soft and yet someone that he wanted to possess so badly that it almost hurt to stand inches away from you.

I don't want her to be apart of this.

The thought is immediate, stirring some primal urge within to protect what's his. Because you were his. You were the missing piece that he pretended not to need and the woman who always seemed to slip into his mind when he was alone and all was quiet,.

The thoughts of what he's about to do to his teammates come surging up and he didn't want you involved in any of that. Not when he knew that he needed to protect you, that he'd drag you along, and you'd see all the ugly parts of him and see the horror of what he was about to do.

He didn't want that for you, he didn’t want the first time that he met you to be like this, him looking like he'd crawled out from under a rock and full of so much anger, rage, and frustration it felt like he was going to explode, him having a new uncontrollable power that meant he might hurt you, and him being unable to give you his full attention when all he could think about was the team that stabbed him in the back.

What he was, was selfish, he knew that about himself.

But I won't be this selfish.

Ben had made many mistakes his life, he knew that, had done some things that he wasn't proud of, but you wouldn’t be one of them. He didn't want to put you in danger and realized that there was only one way to protect you, because after all, he was the only one who knew that you existed.

His eyes trace your face one more time, memorizing it before he does what he thinks is right. Ben turns away from you and forces himself to keep walking. Each cell in his body is screaming at him to turn around, to run back to you, but he can't. He doesn't want it to be like this and he knows that you deserve better.

I won't do this to her.

“Wait-“ He hears you shout over the sounds of the street.

The sound of your voice is a soothing melody, a warm soak in a hot bath, a steady hand against his back, and a salve over the gaping hole where a piece of him was missing for so long, the hole that he tried to ignore  his whole life. He grits his teeth and continues to walk away from you, each step feeling like he's walking through tar the further he gets.

And deep down Ben is hoping that he did the right thing and makes a promise that he'll come back for you.

Present Day Ben POV

Why the fuck am I coming to this thing again?

Ben thought to himself standing outside the closed apartment door holding an expensive bottle of scotch. The same bottle of scotch that he was going to break open as soon as he crossed the threshold to get through this. He didn’t think that Hughie would appreciate it the way he would anyway.

Probably drinks those fucking fruity drinks with the umbrellas.

Ben didn’t understand why Hughie had invited him to this party or why Annie would let him invite Ben to it. Ben knew how much she hated him and the feeling was mutual.

Ben sighs as he stares at the door thinking about walking back to the elevator. 

Invited was a strong word. Ben had overheard Hughie talking about it in the break room with MM and when Ben walked in, Hughie felt the need to fill the awkward silence by inviting Ben to the housewarming party. 

Ben didn't know why anyone needed a housewarming party, but he chocked it up to another thing about the 21st century that he didn't quite understand.

He thought about all the people inside that he saw at work everyday, the ones that he tried to avoid all shoved in the apartment in front of him and groaned to himself.

Fuck, I should just go home.

Ben frowned at the thought of going back to his extravagant penthouse apartment downtown. The one that was two stories with a private balcony, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a study, a media room, an exercise room, and overlooked Central Park with a view that would make anyone else salivate. His real estate agent had been surprised when Ben hadn't batted an eye at the price, but Ben didn't think about money the same way everyone else did.

He didn't have to, not with the money he'd earned over the years and not with the money his father, grandfather, and great grandfather in his accounts.

When he'd first bought the apartment he had been happy to get out from under Butcher's eye, who had a tendency to watch Ben like a hawk whenever he thought that Ben wasn't paying attention. But the apartment was large and cold, furnished with furniture that Ben had hired some twenty year old interior designer to buy, who charged him an outrageous amount of money to do absolutely nothing. She'd called it "minimalism," Ben called it "a fucking rip off."

Not one piece of furniture was comfortable to him and being there never felt like home. Then again, Ben didn't have a "home" to compare it to. His family mansion back in Philadelphia after his mother died had been cold and most of the rooms were closed off and the apartment he had in New York before he went to Russia was almost as big as his new one, but it never seemed like home. It always seemed like a way station, a place for Ben to entertain women for a short while before he went to a commercial shoot, a party, or on location for a film.

Even his cleaning lady and housekeeper would comment on the little things about his apartment that Ben tried to ignore. Honestly, Ben thought that she was fucking nosy, but she did her job well so he kept her on.

That and because he couldn't seem to remember her name no matter how many checks he wrote.

Ben didn’t like being in his apartment at all, but he knew that it wouldn't change if he moved. It wasn't where he lived that was the problem, it was that you weren't there with him.

It had been an entire year since he'd seen you and every day Ben walked the same path he had the day he met you for the first time hoping to run in to you. He didn’t have your name or your address or anything that he could have someone at work plug into a computer to find you. He'd tried to "google" you, but there was only so much he could do with the little information he had and he didn't understand how to find you other than the old fashioned way.

So he was back to sitting home alone every night trying his best not to notice how empty the apartment was, the one he bought that was more than big enough for two people. Sometimes he tried to stay out as long as he could to avoid going back to it, but each time he went through the front door it only emphasized how empty it was.

Ben's life was empty. He hadn't realized that before, but nowadays he was hyperaware of it. In the past he would have filled his life with women eager to warm his bed, but ever since he saw you Ben hadn't been able to think about anyone else.

Ben couldn't remember the last time he felt this frustrated and it only made everything harder for him. And as much as he tried to relieve the tension it never seemed like it was enough. He needed you.

And after he spent twelve months trying his best and he was tired of feeling restless he tried to pick up a woman in a bar.

Every cell in his body screamed wrong at the top of its lungs when he spoke to her, using lines that he'd perfected since he was a teenager. Ben knew he was good at that, but he fumbled the ball each time he opened his mouth. He tried to shake off the ghost of you, but when he spoke to the woman leaning against the aged wooden bar with a martini in her hand and wearing a dress that left little to the imagination, he got a flash in the corner of his eye of someone coming in through the door and he'd thought it was you.

He hadn't been expected to feel so ashamed, guilty, and embarrassed at the thought of you catching him with someone else. He'd been sleeping with women longer than you'd been alive and he'd never felt that way, but now that he knew you existed and knew there was a possibility of you running in to him, it was all different.

Ben's outlook on soulmates being "ridiculous" had evaporated on the spot the moment he locked eyes with you. He couldn't pretend that he didn't care anymore and couldn't pretend that you didn't exist.

How could he when you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? How could he when a piece of him was with you? How could he when you were always on his mind?

He'd never had a woman have a hold on him so completely in his entire life, but you did.

She fucking does and I only saw her once.

It only made him feel worse. He wondered if he'd made the right decision when he turned his back on you.

Sometimes he liked to think back to the moment of when he first saw you when everything was quiet and he was sitting up in his bed staring down at the mark on his wrist that shone a brilliant gold. His mind would slip into those few moments of bliss and he would wonder what would have happened f he just said "fuck it" and didn't go after Payback, if he'd stopped and asked for your name, and allowed you to let him forget everything that happened in the past forty years so he could start his life with you.

Unfortunately, those moments were usually followed by the same self-deprecating thoughts that Ben had, the chauvinistic ones that he'd carried with him over the years, and the ones that his father had impressed on him from the moment he could walk and Ben couldn't seem to shake.

He'd berate himself about how it was stupid and pussy-like to pine over a woman.

Because that's what he was doing, he was pining over you and he didn't like it.

He didn't want to think of you as much as he did, but he couldn't help it. Now that Ben knew you existed he didn't want to miss out on another moment of your life.

Of course, he couldn't find you and that was the problem. Sometimes he wondered if you were looking for him as hard as he was looking for you, if you walked the same way each hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The dreams didn't make it any better. He'd never heard of someone living the memories of their soulmate when they slept, but every night he was subjected to watching your life and it only made him want to find you more.

He'd never knew that someone could feel so lonely surrounded by people, never knew that someone could feel so out of place, and never knew that someone could be as sad as you were, but each time he relieved a memory of yours at night Ben could feel his heart twinge.

Ben watched the lonely birthdays you spent with a cupcake and a beer for him, saw the jeers of the people in your hometown and the pitying looks from your parents, felt your shoulders shake when you cried alone in your room and stared at the birthdate on your wrist, and he felt you losing hope as each year passed.

Ben didn't usually allow himself to feel emotion like that, but watching you go through it all hurt him more than anything those Russian fucks did to him. He wasn't used to that and he wasn't used to thinking about other people as much as he thought about you.

But something about him felt different after meeting you.

Ben had asked Legend about soulmates, specifically the dreams, but Legend had muttered something unintelligible under his breath and took another snort of cocaine from the mirror on the coffee table instead of answering. Their relationship had been a little awkward after Ben slept with Legend's soulmate forty years ago, but Legend didn’t seem to be too upset about it… anymore. Mostly because Legend's soulmate tried to pull a Lorena Bobbitt one night and Legend caught her before any permanent damage was done.

She was in prison, and Ben didn't understand why Legend still went to see her for conjugal visits, but he figured that she was as much of a freak as his old handler.

Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy.

Ben thought staring at the clean white door in front of him.

Truthfully, Ben was tired. He'd been running himself harder for the last month, throwing himself into his work because he was starting to believe that he was never going to meet you again, and it seemed like work was the only thing that could distract him long enough. But he couldn't escape sleep.

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had avoided sleeping the best way he could and he got through a few days before he collapsed. The first dream he'd had of you had come on suddenly, but clear as day.

You reading on your bed in your apartment smiling down at the pages as if it the book was telling you a secret.

Ben wasn't a reader, didn't see any merit in it if it wasn't a western or a war book. The most he could tolerate was Ernest Hemingway, but he could have sat there and watched you read forever. You looked so peaceful, content, and happy that Ben was afraid to interrupt you even though it was just a dream.

But whenever he thought about you dreaming his memories, something dark settled in the back of his mind, because what were you seeing? He'd done a few things he wasn't proud of and Ben didn't want you to think that he wasn't a hero or that he was a bad guy.

Ben sighs and raises his hand to knock hard against the door with his free hand, trying not to open the bottle preemptively before entering the apartment.

"Ben?" Hughie says it like a question when he opens the door, eyes wide with the same stupid look on his face that always grates on Ben.

Ben forces his signature tight lipped smile that he flashes around the office. "Hey there sport."

"Hey. Wow, you're here." Hughie clears his throat and looks over his shoulder as if he's nervous about something.

Ben raises an eyebrow. "I was invited."

"Well yes but-"

"But?"

"Um-"

"Spit it out dipstick."

Hughie clears his throat. "I didn't think you would come."

Fuck I should have stayed home. He doesn't want me here, neither does his fucking beard.

Ben frowns listening to where Annie groans under her breath further inside the apartment and talks low under her breath to someone that Ben can't see.

"Well surprise and congratulations or whatever." Ben rolls his eyes holding out the bottle of scotch. He was hesitant to lose sight of it, not when talking to Hughie for less than five minutes made him want to down the whole bottle.

"Oh wow this is really," Hughie's eyes widen as he takes in the label and realize how much money Ben spent on the bottle. "Expensive stuff, thanks Ben."

"It'll put some hair on your chest." Ben claps Hughie hard on the shoulder as he pushes past him into the foyer of the apartment.

The entire apartment could have fit in Ben's living room and kitchen. It was made in a similar fashion to his, sleek white walls, sterling silver appliances, large glass windows that let in the light-

Ben stops so suddenly inside the area that leads into the kitchen that Hughie plows into his back, but Ben doesn't feel it.

He can't move, can't breathe, because he's noticed the person talking to Annie is you. This was the last place that he'd expected you to be, but he doesn't care, because you're here and you're more beautiful than he remembers.

You're standing there pouring ice from a large bag into a pink acrylic bucket with an adorable amount of concentration for such a simple task wearing the same sweater you were the day he first saw you. You're also wearing a little more makeup and your hair is longer, and not pulled back into the messy bun as it was that day, but you’re still you and you’re here.

His fingers twitch with the urge to run his hands through the tangled tresses, to feel if they're as soft as he imagined for so long.

Ben's body swells with emotion, goosebumps flicker over his skin, and all other sounds in the room vanish, because seeing you was like watching the sun rise and feeling the world hold it's breath as it basks in the early morning rays.

And Ben wanted to bask in everything you were, every day for the rest of his life. Now that he found you again he wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

Your soul sings to him as he nears you, the cells in his body vibrating so fast that he can feel every single one begging him to touch you.

You turn into him by accident, sending the bag of ice tumbling to the floor, but feeling your body against his sends him into overdrive and he can't hold back anymore. He reaches out to grab your shoulder as gently as he can without hurting you.

Hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. And because you weren’t a supe he knew how fragile you were.

You gasp under your breath at the contact from his hand, but to Ben it sounds thunderous in his ears. Ben trails his hand across your shoulder, up your neck, to cup your chin and raise your face to look at him. He feels like his whole body is igniting as he makes contact with your skin.

He can feel an odd vibration in his chest as he does so, energy crackling and pulsing around the two of you, but the rest of the room falls silent. He can’t look away from you, not when seeing you again is like staring too long at the sun and he's left with the imprint of your light and beauty on the inside of his eyelids.

Ben can't focus on anything else, doesn’t hear the awkward chatter, doesn't feel the discomfort he had upon his arrival, doesn't notice the way everyone has turned to stare at the two of you, and doesn't feel the air conditioning turn on and blow cool air against his warm freckled skin.

All he knows is you.

Your eyes are wide and he suspects his are as well, pupils blown but still beautiful and hypnotic as they were one year ago. Ben feels a smile pulling at his lips and he lets it go, because standing in front of you, feeling like this, it’s impossible to do much else.

Your skin is warm to the touch beneath the roughness of his fingertips and he touches you with a reverence that he has never graced anyone else with, because you were his. Every part of you was made for him just as every part of him was made for you.

The your soul was calling out to him, weaving a golden cord of energy in his mind that snagged in the center of his chest and made him feel whole for the first time in life.

You reach out to touch him, the soft palm of your hand falling just over his heart and it makes something inside him break open to flood the space between the two of you.

Hope stirs in his chest with your gentle touch and your unblinking gaze, warmth trailing from where your hand lays against his shirt. His eyes drop to the wrist to see his birthdate, a glowing ember against your skin where the sleeve of your sweater has fallen down an inch.

Your eyes lock with his once more, full lips slightly parted, and breathless.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." Ben murmurs, trailing his thumb across your cheek with a gentleness that he's never possessed.

Ben was not a gentle man, but for you he would try. He would be anything you wished him to be, for as long as he lived, because now that he found you, he was never going to let you go.

And he welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to stand in his way.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always welcome and appreciated! I really love hearing what y'all think. ❤️ If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

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[alanaartdream]

Ok it’s new day and I have better lighting and more drawings for my Fairy Timmy with Jimmy Timmy power hour Nicktoons unite and now with new drawings fairly odd parents a new wish added to the mix (( also you can ask questions about my ideas if you want; don’t mind getting distracted from stress of working food services for a hospital asking about my

Drawings au ideas))

I was trying out these staedtler high lighters today ( normally I rather use watercolour pencils and markers but sometimes if I’m feeling lazy or a bit tried out I just like to grab my little pencil case and sketch while in bed before I start the day;; but some of my high lighters lids popped off or they just started to dry up so had to find something to replace some of the ones that dry out;; I might look into getting some watercolours markers/pens in the future to try that out )

Ok now onto my fairy Timmy with nicktoons unite gang now I believe when fairy Timmy grows up he’ll be helping with the Da Rules but also be a fairy Lawyer and Felicity would besides her other fairy jobs (she helps artists/ writers and people who create stuff to get inspiration for their creations and get them out of artists/ writers blocks as well as help cats find humans who will give them forever homes but she also keeps track of all of fairyworld records and being as lawyers always need to check the records for their cases it makes cents they become work friends) also see Cupid showing up complaining to Timmy of how he can’t find get Felicity to fall in love with anyone even though he’s been trying and Timmy and Jimmy have to remind him

She’s asexual/ demisexual so she’s not the type to fall in love like straights would do witch just has him huffing away while hazel who just popped into with Wanda cosmo and peri to laugh remembering how much Cupid gave her troubles with her parents (( apparently she made a wish to meet Timmy after Peri Wanda and cosmo ended up talking about him and Timmy was hanging out in Jimmy’s lab going over a tricky problem that seemed to happen with the Da Rules books and being how smart Jimmy is was getting some advice with that tricky book’s rules))

Jimmy not a fan of kids in his lab so keeping an eye on her while Hazel meeting Fairy Timmy and Peri is explaining how Timmy helps out the Nicktoons unite gang when he’s not busy with his fairy work in fairy world and if you want to check out other universes and if you want to check out other universes you have to get felicity or Timmy to check in with Jimmy Neutron who’s one of the leading professors on universes travel witch is when Hazel truly gets a good look at Jimmy & is surprised to learn he’s human and not a fairy witch is when Timmy has to quickly poof in felicity to explain with records/ paperwork that Jimmy; the Nicktoons unite gang along with Timmy have saved fairy world and all of the universes so often that to keep all the universes safe it’s better that they know fairies exist and have signed the right papers to be allowed to know about fairies and fairy world (heck fairy world ended up giving Jimmy Danny and their friends metals for helping them soo much there was a huge party and everything all the Nicktoons untie gang were invited and given metals for the occasion)

(( if you want to add Dev into this could have it he complains how come Jimmy & Danny are allowed into fairyworld later on when Jimmy and Danny are over for check over involving ghost rules in the Da Rules book and peri looking worn out at dev’s antics while Danny and Jimmy give the kid annoyed looks and Timmy’s trying to comfort Peri saying looks like you got remy like kid as his first godkid

Also could see later on when Dev ended working with Anti fairies Timmy was at Jimmy’s lab and was doing his best to save Timmy from magical back up and get Timmy back to fairyworld along with Danny’s help and they ended up up helping Hazel out in saving fairy world I could see Jimmy wanting to rip Dev’s dad for what nearly happened to Timmy but Jimmy had managed to keep from happening with Hazel’s help; Danny had to hold Jimmy back while Timmy had to get his lawyer side up and ask peri about how he wanted to handle this case with Dev