It is a fact that the vampires of the world walk among the living, and they do so missing one part of themselves. Now, don't start believing in soulmates, though you can if you want, but don't base that belief on the following information- Trust me, it's not like that.
Vampires each have a mate, from the moment human life is taken away and the soul is replaced by a demon, they are without a piece of themselves. Not one specific creature will fulfill this undercurrent of detachment for the animal; instead, there are a number of possible candidates.
And the likelihood of finding any of yours is slim, though possible.
A mate is like a glove welded onto and over an unbeating heart. Once found, almost always the attraction and desire to possess each other consumes those involved. Almost always. There have been stories of vampires losing potential mates due to what some call "fate" when really, it was probably just crappy timing or a tricky situation.
Of course, as long as that famous old ritual wasn't... consummated, the vampires are left sullen but otherwise intact. For there is not one specific mate per vampire.
It's rather like a puzzle really, one of those middle pieces that has three or four empty spaces. Except when one matching piece is found, the other gaps close up. The two-piece puzzle gets sewn together, forever.
It all sounds very romantic doesn't it? It is, if you think of it that way. The beings in the world who have endured heartbreak when their lover finds a mate might disagree, however. It's why many vampires don't usually date or hold relationships. They're more of a sexual gratification kind of group; especially when concerning different creatures. The chances of finding a mate are small, but given the eternal lifespan of vamps, many have stumbled upon a potential mate and gone on to make an unlife of it together. And a few instances of vampire couples turning into each other's qualified mates, after being alongside one another for a long time, have the romantics hoping for a moment when the mating heat will touch them.
It doesn't usually work out that way, of course, but it is possible. Like a match that you keep striking which refuses to ignite, until one moment- Spark. A fire alights. It's less likely than finding your mate amidst the sea of vampires in the world and letting chance play with your abundance of gambling tokens. Sooner or later though, the slot machine you sit at for long enough might just have to let you win.
A vampire will then walk each day with his or her fellow mate, and they will both live until one dies. It's a curse and a wish vampires alike dream and think of from day to day. Some will say they dread the moment they take a mate, because it means they've lost their freedom, and their unlife is tied to another. It's choking. A suffocating destiny they don't want.
Except they do, their demon demands it in a soft grumbling mourn that isn't truly felt until a fitting partner is in sight. Others will admit to how much they yearn for their missing part, how much they desire the love and security that inevitably comes once they are attached forever to another.
Sooner or later the fate is accepted by each vampire. Whether because the completion which comes with a mate starts to be craved, loneliness consumes, or one is simply thrown into direct path with a missing puzzle piece and they can't run from it.
Vampires alike know of this outcome, they are bred knowing it- whether instinctually or because they are told.
For humans, it's a different story.
The supernatural world is greatly hidden from the oblivious, and easily concealed right beneath their noses. Humans were never the brightest of animals, of course.
Yet some of them are mates to vampires. And most have no idea what the hell a mate even is. Most don't know vampires exist, most don't understand what happens when they see a mysterious stranger across the room and are pulled toward them with such force that their feet become not their own. That they don't question the paleness of skin or the lack of body heat. The fact that they feel like they belong to a complete stranger and own that stranger in return.
Most don't get it, and yet they come to realize everything almost immediately after finding their vampire half. It's a combination of the weak with the strong, a melding of two lifelines into one immortal heartbeat and the boiling of strength into a weaker body. It's seldom and rare and extraordinary, and only very few vampires and even fewer humans are taxed with the union.
But it happens, it hits the strongest ones of both species and then never lets go.
*****
She's a weekend beauty queen at the blacklight clubs wearing out the scene
You know her type
Out all night
Stiletto heels strutted across the floor cluttered with moving bodies, dressed up feet, and tiny puddles of alcohol sloshed from martini glasses. Lights flashed through the darkness and caressed red lips. A cheekbone flashed in the light, the edge of a pixie nose, shine of golden hair.
Spike's eyes focused. The blue surrounding black pupils thinning to mere outlines. Mixing a drink in his hand on automatic, even forgetting the ingredients he'd used, Spike's senses heightened.
Starry eyed for the dirty dream always looking for the prince where the cash is king
On the boulevard
In a big black car
She's everywhere you are
A girl, her body moving through the crowded club. Loose curls swinging in the air when she spun, throwing herself into the mixture of mere dancing mortals and evening critters. Dainty hands reached for the ceiling, a glimpse of a sexy silver strapped ankle caught his eye.
Spike's inner demon growled lowly, his predatory impulses surfacing with accelerating speed.
Her face turned towards him, their eyes catching. She froze for a moment. A shared breath in heated time hitched and caught. Then, the woman smiled encouragingly, swung with pleasure to the rhythm of the music again and gave a sexy little wink.
His throat tightened as his mouth watered. A primitive desperation swept through him.
I smell her sweet perfume, making rounds around the room
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
Her lips are red and those hips are turning heads
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
Her sparkling eyes caught his once more, and Spike realized with a harassing quickness that he had to have her.
The invitation was already offered or he'd earn it, either way he wanted this one. Wanted her with a fire that burned so bright his veins felt like they were pumping again, flowing with life giving lava for blood.
"Josh!"
His voice carried through the bustling club to another bartender at the end of the alcohol soaked counter. It was fortunate, being the owner of this place. It meant Spike could go after special dames when he wanted, and ask the employees to take over.
His eyes stayed riveted on the blonde in black. Something told him she was very special.
"Yeah boss?!"
He slid a beer to a customer and grabbed the cash absentmindedly. "I'm takin a break, get Alex to help you!"
Josh's startled face turned towards Spike. It was strange. He never stopped working when the place was this busy. "How come?"
The vamp waved him off, still spellbound by the gorgeous form of a stranger in the distance. A long toned leg slipped through the shots of light on the darkened dance floor. His gaze slid up, and Spike saw his prey in the arms of another man. A bitter taste resembling jealousy dissolved on his taste buds, even as his mouth watered with the hunger for this vixen's blood.
" 'Cause I said so!" he shouted to the barkeep.
Spike strode from his place behind the bar, bypassing drunk girls and components of testosterone.
He was one of those blokes, except he had a little something called control. And taste.
Never had a girl caught his attention so severely. He was virtually pulled toward the human in the corner, the petite little temptress in six-inch heels and a black dress that should really be illegal.
He liked women, he went home with a new one every couple of nights. Owning and working at a club in a large city was one of the best ways to get laid on a regular basis. He was picky, though. Not many caught his fancy for longer than it would take to shag em and send em home the next day. But this one was very different.
It was like a bloody siren's song. She was moving against another male, who Spike already decided might become dinner, and she was looking like a wicked little nymph that couldn't be caught.
Which was proven a moment later as she turned and smiled at her dance partner before slipping away like a ribbon in the wind.
Entranced, he knew he'd find his way through anything simply to wrap his hands around that waist of hers and pull her close.
Spike moved quicker, his body blending in with the surrounding darkness and crowd. Black jeans and a blue button down, thin silver chain around his pale neck. Tall and lean and powerful. His body was to die for, and all the girls in the room looked on hungrily while the vampire followed the gleaming gold of his prize.
Then she was gone.
He frowned, stopping in his pursuit. Spike searched through the moving throng, pulses pumping in tune with the music and the stomps of dancing feet. His unbeating heart clenched in a painful, strange way and he tried to ignore it. The girl...
His nostrils flared when a waft of something sweet blew by his back. He turned inhumanly fast, his hand reaching out at the same instant she stopped for him.
She gasped a little, then smiled just a tad tremulously. Her grin was as bright and beautiful, as enchanting as the lady herself. Spike smirked. "Lookin for a new dance partner, love?"
Her sinewy little body moved forward and leant up against him, she stretched her spine like a cat. The warmth of her form melted into his skin, sparking the coldness inside. Warm soft breasts pressed against his chest, her smile turned flirtatious and green eyes glittered with welcome.
"I think I found one," she murmured.
Spike swallowed. His body was strung tight. The girl burned him, the scalding marvelous. "What's your name?" he asked.
She smiled again, and he wanted to consume her whole. She was exquisite, filled with a glorious beauty all her own.
"Buffy," she said.
That made him laugh. He wrapped a halting arm around her back when she went to step away. "Buffy," he said, liking how the cute name rolled off his tongue. "I'm Spike."
She raised an eyebrow but decided against asking any questions, the loud beat of the music and the crowded floor urging her to refrain from trying to have a conversation. Instead, she asked, "Well Spike, how good of a dancer are you?"
He drew her in close as another smirk came out to play.
Her lips are red and those hips are turning heads
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
A downtown downtown girl girl
A downtown downtown girl girl
Primal, sweet tension enveloped them as they moved close, skin to skin and breath mingling in the dark. Something pursued their worlds, darkness in one and light in the other. A primal instinctual belonging swept down, the demon growled possessively inside, a heartbeat faltered as a dead one skipped alive for the space of a second.
Spike gasped, his eyes flashing yellow as beautiful green widened in sensation. Emotion eroded a human's common sense and replaced it with ferocious need; desire pierced. Longing threatened to consume.
His fingers clamped brutally on her hips. Grinding into her and tugging closer, Spike's useless breaths again combined with hers.
She didn't know how close they were to the wall until he'd backed her into it. Her back scraped against painted brick and she hissed through her teeth. Buffy's heart was suddenly beating for two at a pace that alarmed but still felt perfectly right. Her skin gleamed with sweat as she broke out into convulsive shivers which only ceased when Spike's lips plundered hers.
She whimpered in bliss.
I smell her sweet perfume, making rounds around the room
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
Her lips are red and those hips are turning heads
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
He realized what it was too late, not that he would have tried to resist it had he known the very moment he'd set eyes on Buffy. She was too perfect to not want her for his mate, and that wasn't just his demon's yearning. The human part of him that had refused to die out over the years wanted her too, needed her even.
She was so soft, her sweetness enticing, her kiss drugging.
Passion tickled their senses, glided through them both and down their throats like a fine wine.
Buffy's fingers ran through bleached strands, playing with his soft curls and gripping hard when Spike bit her bottom lip. She moaned against the feel of hard denim pushing into the place between her legs, the place that felt shrouded in flame.
Their mouths broke apart and Buffy whispered a helpless plea against his shaking lips. She didn't even know what she was asking for. She wanted him like a heart wants blood. Needed him. Needed something. "Spike..."
"What is it, love?"
His cold breath only caused her skin to heat up and burn, she felt like she was on fire. This man was causing something to claw through her and it was demanding to be joined with him. Demanding a connection Buffy didn't get. "Take me, please. Somewhere- I-"
She couldn't finish her broken thought. Spike had put a hand against her, cupping her intimately. He acted like he owned her.
And he did.
"What is it," he asked again, demanding.
"I- I ache," was all she could articulate, her stutter quiet. Her breathlessness was startlingly surreal. She was enveloped in cold warmth when he wrapped her up in his arms, holding her tightly and protecting what she felt she was giving away.
Herself.
He was claimed, he was hers, and her demand would be what he sought to meet. Spike was immersed in a need to reassure her, claim her for his own and comfort and console, and explain in the best way he knew how what was happening to them. By instinct and his demon's urging, he tugged her against the side of his body and started for the back entrance of the club.
She couldn't ask why they were leaving, her feet simply followed obediently and fear played against her blurred senses. She was following a stranger out into an alley and the only thing she could think about was feeling him inside her; craving it.
An indeterminate intention was flickering through her whole body and when Spike's hand separated from hers because someone stepped recklessly between them, a strong terror pierced her heart.
Painful iciness tore through and made her gasp shrilly. A sudden sense that she was falling and about to hit the ground filled her being even as Buffy searched the flashing crowd for her stranger. Spike. The bleached Brit who called to her in a way she'd never felt and wasn't sure she was prepared to deal with. Her eyes ran frantically over the room. They'd been separated.
Then, in an instant, it was okay again. Because he was in front of her, as if having appeared out of thin air, and he was gripping her so tightly she was sure to have a bruise or two in the shape of his hands.
She wanted him holding her tighter.
"I almost lost you," he said, his voice slightly frantic. When their skin lost contact it had felt like someone was tearing off his arm. They weren't mated yet, their union was at the edge of being fully connected and after touching, dancing, kissing- The need was fiercely severe. Requiring, demanding the link. His demon was in a tizzy, like an angry tiger prowling a restrictive cage.
Eyeing its mate from afar, waiting for the lock to break. Waiting for freedom to take her.
Her human soul was yearning restlessly, her heart a pulse away from what doctors would call a heart attack. She was so close to her mate, and Buffy didn't even know such a thing existed. Spike could see it in her eyes.
Her fingers dug viciously into the fabric of his shirt as she fisted it, looking lost and flushed and scared all in one. She stared up at him for answers she didn't know she was asking for. Spike felt pain for her and dread spreading through him at the thought of her trying to give this up before it was finished. It would nearly destroy them both at this point, but they could move on and continue living over time. They weren't claimed yet. Though it felt that way.
Once they'd finished with each other, it would be forever. She didn't know that.
She wouldn't put an end to it though, he was sure; not with the desperation pulsing through the both of them like a shared heartbeat. He had to tell her. His humanity demanded it, his demon raged against the risk.
"You're mine," Spike said, willing her to understand the basest primal level of these feelings he couldn't put into words right now. His mind was too muddled, his demon too crazed and his human too terrified. "You understand?"
Those ocean blue eyes said a million things, promises and fears. If she followed him nothing would be the same again, and she knew what she wanted was to be one with him. In that instant, she understood a depth of herself, one she'd never before touched, was crying out for this man. And Buffy wasn't going to deny her.
"I understand." She leaned up to nuzzle and kiss the side of his throat. "I do."
That was all the answer he needed. That was the only thing that mattered. He released a quiet, predatory growl and grasped her hand, pulling her out the back way and into the dark misty air of the alley.
A humid drizzle surrounded them as did the city's night. Orange and gold glowed softly through the wetness from windows embedded in dripping brick walls. The air smelled of magic and rainfall and the air wasn't quiet. Car tires splashed in puddles and dance beats stemmed from the club, sounds of nightlife in this world they knew.
Spike's sensitive vamp hearing could only detect the delightful sound of Buffy's pulse, the assurance of his potential's life. He loved the sound of her blood rushing beneath her skin as he pulled her close, his mouth going to her throat as she helped to back them against a wall. She tugged helplessly at the dampening fabric of his clothes, not knowing where to grab for buttons or hems, just scrambling blindly.
She spread her legs and gasped when he bit her neck, soothing the small indent with his tongue the next moment. Spike rasped in her ear, "Belt buckle."
Her whirling mind managed to send the message to her anxious fingers, and she quickly undid the leather.
Her slippery skin tasted of peppermint, some sort of scented oil perfume she'd dabbed behind her ears and on her throat. The flavor delectable, mixed with the sweetness of her; his cock throbbed. He tugged impatiently at her dress, lifting the hem to her waist and a second later her underwear was shredded. He swallowed her gasp with another kiss.
Buffy jumped up just enough to wrap herself around him, her legs crossing at his lower back and her thighs resting on his lean hips. They fit perfectly.
The wall and Spike's arm supported her. One of her hands tangled in his soggy hair, while the other tangled with his as they both worked on the metal zipper enclosing him. Hiding the evidence of his want, their need, her craving.
Their lips broke apart but their foreheads came together, little raindrops dripping like crystals along hot skin. Green eyes sparkled heatedly as they stared into flashing blue. Buffy saw ridges appearing and receding between his brows, fangs lengthening from teeth, and change in the color of his eyes. His demon was showing and blinking before her, not quite there but emerging and retreating. It was out of control. And Buffy wasn't afraid in the least. Instinctually she was drawn to it, to him, all of him. Her fingers came from the nape of his neck to the planes of his beautiful face as he slowly, finally entered her.
Their gazes widened as the connection tore through them, the insides of their individual beings ripping to make room for each other, just enough to weld together. The sensations were all consuming. A key triggering a lock. A stake hammered into the ground, pounding and then fitting neatly in the earth. Secure.
Buffy explored his face with shaking fingertips as he withdrew and plunged inside her again, burning a brand. It was fire with each stroke. His face was so fierce and completely vulnerable to her, so open and there for her. The skin to skin, hip to hip contact caused her breath to shudder while cold droplets of rain scattered down their bodies.
Her dress was soaked through, his eyes looked to where they connected. Useless lungs worked helplessly, drawing in gasps of sweat and rain and musk. The scent of her made his mouth water, made him love the reckless desire that overcame potential mates. Because as much as the idea appealed to Spike, neither of them had had to wait while he readied her for the full connection. Her wetness milked him with abandon, her tightness strangling him helplessly as she whimpered. She clawed, his back burned because of it; their eyes locked even as her smooth soft throat called his name.
Pleasure overcame their hearts, one's soul, another's demon. Buffy's head flew back into brick and Spike's teeth descended, his fangs came out and delicately, he bit her throat, breaking the skin. Heated, slimy, tasty blood dribbled between his lips, Buffy's scream went to the heavens. Fire engulfed her as she climaxed around his cock, her nails digging into the back of his head.
Heady, sweet, mouthwatering blood. A drink for the angels, and drink no one else would have. He bit harder, Spike's demon purred. The selfish need to consume and possess, to own was stronger than anything. The sensations of her quivering around his length, the heat and the slick glide... his hand gripped the nape of her neck as he plunged again and again. He drank in her scream like he drank down her blood. And he let go, leaving bruises on her flesh as he spilled his seed inside of her welcoming body.
Spike pulled his mouth from her, fangs dripping, his face carved into the demon as he growled, "Mine," while staring straight into her eyes. Her answering "Yours" was both instinct and acceptance. His heart started to parade in his chest. A howl flew through his throat and he grabbed Buffy's hair, bringing her mouth to his throat.
She knew what to do, and when her tired little eyes closed, her sated body pliable and warm in his arms as her teeth tore into his skin, everything felt right. She drank and she spoke her claim, and Spike answered with a heartfelt recognition which almost brought tears to her eyes as the bond was complete. She was connected, to him.
He was a part of her. Everything was bright and blinding in one distinct, gorgeous moment. The air was charged while their harsh breathing slowly evened out, but as Buffy calmed and began to sift into her new place, the comfort of her belonging, Spike was ravenous. He tugged her face up to smash bloody, biting lips to hers.
The kiss turned desperate quick. They sucked and ate at one another's mouths, pressing closed lips against each other's like they would never again touch. As if they'd be torn away now that they'd both finally made it this far; now that they were finally bonded.
Which they were. In every possible way.
*****
Two Months Later
I smell her sweet perfume, making rounds around the room
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
Her lips are red and those hips are turning heads
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
"Where do you think you're going?"
Buffy turned around and smiled. An open, bright loving grin for her guy. Her mate.
She was still getting used to all of this... the whole vampires exist thing and she's kind of linked to one for all eternity...
Yeah. It was a huge adjustment at first, but the claim made it better... easier. It made it confusing, too, but on some deep level Buffy had found out pretty quickly that she wanted it. And not just because she was a part of Spike at that point. The human girl in her wanted it, too; wanted to belong to him.
She'd fallen in love quickly after realizing that, and she thought he loved her in return. Even if neither of them had said the words to each other yet.
They were there, though. They were always there. As she approached him and smiled, wearing the same outfit she'd met him in two months ago, the love was always between them.
She was working at the bar now, and had just been about to deliver some drinks to a few customers at a nearby table when she'd heard him. Buffy wondered what had made him call her back over. Sometimes it was just him wanting to give her a kiss or tease her with the claim mark on her throat. The one he renewed just about every night.
Buffy let a familiar shudder run off and along her shoulders. A familiar song was playing over the speakers, and a certain line made her swish her hips just a little bit more than was natural as she walked. She noticed Spike's eyes zero in on the move, and internally, Buffy smirked. It was so easy to entice and tease him, often she did it without even realizing it.
And all the boys, staring at the girls, staring at the boys staring at the Downtown Girl
Downtown girl
Wedging between people and leaning over the counter, she set down the tray of beer bottles that were already surrounded by little condensation rings.
It wasn't very crowded in the club tonight, luckily. She didn't like not being able to get back and forth between Spike quickly. And she knew he hated it, too. He'd wanted her behind the counter at first, but she'd done waitressing before and he was short a girl so she'd convinced him to let her do it.
Of course, now she was the nervous one. Whenever they were out of each other's sight for too long, they both got edgy. Spike explained that it would be like that for a little while until the claim had settled. She could deal, but it didn't mean she had to like it. There were tons of things she'd had to get used to ever since that night in the alley, and him as well.
Some things would come easier in time, and some would simply fade.
Although, jealousy? That definitely wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She knew it because she felt it in her bones. And every time one of the customers watched her walk away after serving, or made a rude drunken comment, there were issues... Of the fangy, growly kind.
Which is why she often didn't tell Spike about most of the comments she received while working. She'd heard some things that would make him go wild in less than one of their shared heartbeats- And not the good kind of wild.
Buffy had a feeling he didn't tell her about every girl that hit on him or dropped a phone number either. She was no less possessive, no less territorial, than he.
Smiling at the admittance, and then up at her mate, Buffy answered his question from a moment before. "Doing my job," she said.
Spike's eyes sparkled, his gaze focusing on that pretty, red glossed mouth of hers. He'd seen that tongue do things...
Well, he'd seen that tongue do things no one else would ever receive. Not so much as a sample of what she did with him was for anyone else.
Spike bent and kissed her ruby lips, tracing them with his tongue and greedily loving what was his. He felt her melt into it, and then he himself, was lost. Soon they were threatening to climb over the bar just to touch each other, or break the thing all together. Only a rough shove from a passing customer separated them, and when Buffy stumbled Spike steadied her.
"Oi, watch yourself!" he shouted at the clumsy passerby.
"Spike, Spike." She put a calming hand to his chest and caught his eye, dragging a slightly threatening blue stare away from the person who'd bumped into her. "Hey, it's probably good we got knocked apart," Buffy laughed. "We do have work to do. Now what did you call me over here for?"
His piercing eyes changed from angry to warm when he focused on her, and Spike rested his forehead against hers. "Just wanted to show my customers that I'm the only one allowed to hit on the waitresses."
She raised a fine brow. "That better just be waitress, buddy."
Spike smiled. "Oh baby," he leaned in to kiss her again, "the one and only."
They liplocked for a few moments before pulling away reluctantly to avoid things getting too carried away again.
"An you make sure those gits starin at you know that if they keep it up," Spike nodded in the direction of her next table, "m'gonna carve their eyes out with a toothpick."
Buffy bit her lips to keep from laughing, knowing that he was probably serious... and she picked up a toothpick from one of the little cups sitting between olives and fruit slices on the bar. She twirled the thing between her fingers and followed the twisting red piece of paper at the end of it with her eyes. She hummed and asked, "This toothpick?"
Spike smiled at her cheery, devil-may-care tone of voice. The one she used when she was trying to be cute.
Which she was and he wanted to take her home to keep her all to himself. But instead, the vampire sighed and kissed her again until she giggled and poked him in the arm with the tiny wooden weapon.
"I have to serve the gawkers, honey."
Spike groaned, and sent a glare over in the direction of the table filled with human idiocy awaiting beers. Before he could distract his cute little waitress again, she was slipping away and approaching the table with a tray balanced in one hand above her head.
Spike muttered a bloody hell to himself as he watched her strut. Those hips would be the death of him.
And every other male customer in his bar if the oafs didn't stop looking at her.
Spike's fingers tightened around a stray shot glass. He ground his teeth together while watching her smile at her table of admirers. They were laughing and ogling her, their eyes roaming... Their stares focusing on her chest. When she bent to set down the last beer, at the knees so her cleavage didn't fall everywhere, he caught one of the blokes trying to sneak a peak anyway.
Before he could talk himself out of throwing anybody through the exit, or forgetting the talking himself out of that plan part altogether, he saw Buffy hold up a toothpick. And with a saccharine smile, she pointed to Spike, and the men's faces turned as well.
Then they were averting their eyes so quickly, Spike knew she'd told them what he honestly hadn't expected her to. Although the threat had been true enough, frightening customers was not his usual way of business... until lately.
That's my girl, he thought, as Buffy set the toothpick down on the tabletop, a friendly reminder to those wankers what would happen if they looked at her again in a way her boyfriend didn't like.
Buffy sashayed away from the table. With a wink, she went to take another order; and Spike smirked, falling more in love every moment.
Her lips are red and those hips are turning heads
'Cause she's a downtown girl, a downtown girl
A downtown downtown girl girl
A downtown downtown girl girl
Author's Chapter Notes:
This fic kinda has its own spin on that lovely eternal life-bonding thing we call mating in fanfiction. It was created probably from all of the mating fics I've ever read lol. I love all of the different spins on mating that have been written about, so here's another. It's really not all that different from many others, but I hope you like it! Feel free to leave reviews, i love getting them!
Also, there are some song lyrics in the fic.
Also, there are some song lyrics in the fic.
Chapter End Notes:
I hope this story was enjoyed! Please leave a review or two!