#THEY ARE SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE SHAPE AND FORM

[patolemus]

when people tell me sterek isn't real i'll just show them this

Erika Meitner, from “Staking a Claim”, Copia

[taeghi]

best friends don’t kiss on birthdays

it’s your birthday! and jake’s gift might be more than just a cake.

PAIRING : bff baker!jake x birthday girl!y/n

GENRE : SMUT = MDNI, bffs 2 lovers, food (cake) play, lots of choking, dirty talk, brief spanking, cum play?? lmao. unprotected sex (pls wear a condom)

WC : 6.5k

authors note : it's my birthday!! (happy bday to me) so i wanted to post a bday fic :D ily all, i hope u enjoy!!!! 🎂🎈

you and jake have been friends for as long as you can remember. you wouldn’t call each other each others soulmates, but you both assume it’s something similar. 

since you were ten, jake has made a cake for you every single year for your birthday. every year it was either a different flavour of cake, different icing style or different shapes. but, every year, like clockwork, jake was at your door with a cake in his hand and a cheesy smile on his face. 

you were both in your final year of university (jake had followed you to university even though he despised the city it was in), and this year so far, has been a bit different between you and jake. both of you had split into different friend groups over the years. you were more of an inner, close social circle type, and jake was, well, the complete opposite. he liked going out every weekend, getting wasted until he was falling off his ass. everytime you hung out with him in public, someone would come up to greet him. 

despite the social shift, you and jake were still close as always. jake was still the same jake you had always known. he lives in the moment, makes quick decisions on the spot without thinking of any consequences, he loves to take risks, even if they put you on edge. but that’s how you and jake balanced each other out. like some chaotic yin and yang in perfect human form. 

the past month, jake had been hanging out with chisa. she’s the lead singer of the rock band at your school, the one that performs at every school event and every party. you’ve only briefly met her, like at her birthday party about a month ago that jake had forced you to go to. but, you could tell that she was almost exactly like jake. she radiates this energy, effortless and infectious, always up for anything, her unpredictability drawing in everyone around her.

jake’s never been serious with anyone—just a few hookups, then he moves on. but with chisa? it was different. he was attached to her in a way you’d never seen before, and you hated that it bugged you, even though you told yourself it didn’t. you had started getting used to smelling chisa’s perfume on jake when he comes over to your apartment, having just left hers. you had gotten used to him smiling at his phone when he hung out with you and it was because of something chisa had texted, not a dumb meme sunghoon had sent him. 

what you couldn’t get used to was jake making sure everyone came to chisa’s birthday, only for a month later to completely forget yours. this was the first year, after fourteen years, that jake didn’t remember your birthday. no text, no barging into your apartment at 8 am with that obnoxious grin of his, dragging you to some arcade or random party to celebrate. nothing.

and now, here it was—10 pm, and not a sign of your best friend.

you sigh and throw yourself into bed, desperately wishing this god awful birthday would just end already. if jake dares to text you tomorrow, you’ll scream at him for hours—unless you’re still caught up in this sinking feeling in your stomach. a brief thought crosses your mind: is jake replacing me? 

you scoff and roll over onto your side, how could jake replace you with chisa if you and chisa had completely different relationships with jake. you told yourself that you’ve just always been the only girl jake hangs out with, that now that there’s another one that he consistently hangs out with it’s fucking with you. because jake is your best friend, or at least you thought he was. do best friends forget each other's birthdays? their traditions? 

you pretend it doesn’t matter, trying to get your mind to shut off so you can sleep. you tell yourself that it’s just another birthday, same as all the others you've lived through and all the ones you’ll live through in the future. but it’s not.jake should’ve been here, whether you wanted to strangle him or not, you just wanted him here.

a single tear falls down your cheek, landing on your pillow that soaks it up.  

more tears are willing to escape, but a knock on the door stops them. 

the clock says 10:32pm on your nightstand, you wonder who the hell is here this late. but in your chest you hope it’s jake. you can’t help but speed walk to the front door. you don’t look through the peephole before you swing it open. 

and sure enough, there’s jake, a cake in his hand with a guilty look on his face, instead of the usual annoying smirk. 

“happy birthday?” jake says unsurely, his face contorted in unease. 

you scoff, “wow, you remembered.” 

jake gasps, “i didn’t miss your birthday, yn!” he pulls out his phone to look at the time, “there’s still an hour and a half of it left!” you don’t answer, just stare at him expressionless, trying to mask your hurt. jake shoves the cake out in front of you, “well are you gonna let me in so we can share this cake? i made it red velvet flavoured this year!” 

you glance down at the cake, it looks perfect. it’s deep red layers covered with cream cheese, white frosting. silver frosting was on the top in jake’s cursive hand writing happy birthday y/n! it looked annoyingly good. 

you sigh and step to the side, letting jake into your apartment so late at night on your birthday. 

“see, you can never say no to my baking!” jake chuckles out, he beelines straight for your kitchen like he never stopped practically living here up until a month ago. he finds two spoons in your cluttered drawers quickly. 

“yeah, well, at least your teachers didn’t waste their money teaching you,” you lean on the other side of the island from him, face to face. 

jake tsks, “okay well, it wasn’t a waste of money then for me to have followed you out here.” jake sticks out a spoon for you to take, “now taste it and tell me how good your best friend in the entire world can bake!” 

you dig your spoon into the cake, it glides so smoothly through it, just like everything else jake bakes. when the red velvet meets your mouth, you can’t help but moan around it. damn jake and his culinary arts degree. 

across the island from you, jake’s mouth is turned into a shit-eating grin, knowing that all your anger towards him has melted away just like the cake has melted in your mouth. 

“good?” jake asks with a tilt of his head, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“shut up.” 

he laughs—loud, familiar. the sound of it makes your stomach flip in a way you wish it wouldn’t. for a second, it’s like nothing happened. like he didn’t almost forget your birthday.

“sorry there’s no candles this year,” jake mumbles out, placing a bite of cake into his own mouth. 

you shrug, going for a second bite, “it’s okay.” 

“if there was one, what would you wish for?” 

your spoon hovers mid-air. you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way jake is watching you, the way he’s close but not too close, his knee knocking against the cabinet when he shifts. you think for a second, strangely struggling to make eye contact with your best friend. your best friend that you had just cried about 10 minutes before this. 

“hm?” jake pushes you, impatient as always.

“i can’t tell you, or else it won’t come true.” you smirk at him, trying to ignore whatever this weird tension is between you. 

jake scoffs, “you have literally told me every birthday wish you have ever wished for since we were ten, why can’t you tell me now?” 

you shrug, “secret.” placing another piece of cake in your mouth. you notice jake still in front of you, his body rigid. his hands pressing flat against the counter like he’s holding himself back. “what?” 

jake gently puts his spoon down on the marble island, you can feel his sudden unease from across said island.he doesn’t answer. instead, he steps around the island, closing the space between you in two slow strides., “you uh, have icing on your face.”

 before you can reach to wipe it off, jake beats you to it. his large, warm hand meets your cheek, his thumb brushes once against your skin, gathering the icing on his digit. without a second thought (usual jake nature) he slides his thumb into your ajar mouth. your lips circle around his thumb, sucking the frosting of his mouth. jake bites his lower lip in between his teeth as he watches you, feels your tongue circle this thumb before you pull your mouth off it. 

“jake,” your voice whispers to him— he’s so close to you. your apartment suddenly feels one thousand times smaller than it usually does. 

“did your birthday wish include me, y/n?” jake asks, almost desperate, “tell me it did.” you only slightly nod in response, unsure of where this was going, aching for more. in a second, jake’s hand is cupping your jaw. “what was it, y/n? tell me.” 

your voice is quiet when you reveal your wish, “i wished for you to kiss me.” 

before you could process what you had just said to your best friend, he’s leaning over, his lips meeting yours. they’re gentle at first, testing to see if you’re okay. when you don’t push him away or reject the kiss gets hungrier. your lips mesh together in a hurried, desperate mess. like both of you needed this now or else you’d never get it again. 

jake’s hands grip your waist, pulling you into him. it’s the warmth of his body on yours (the one that you’ve always craved) that makes you gasp, pushing him away. 

“what? want to stop?” jake concerns, his eyes flashing over your body quickly, making sure you’re okay. 

“just— what about chisa?” her name sounds foreign coming from your mouth now.  jake chuckles quickly, and then laughs loudly like he suddenly can’t control it. “jake? what?” 

“it’s just,” jake laughs, his on your island to keep him up, “what about chisa? she’s not my girlfriend or anything. don’t you know me, y/n?” 

you pucker your lips, not impressed by his response, it makes you feel dumb. “shut up, jake.” 

when jake sees that you’re being serious, his laugh fades into only a smile, his hands grip your waist again, “chisa is nothing to me, y/n. just a friend.” 

“if she’s just a friend then what am i?” 

his grip falters slightly. you both know jake sucks at talking about his feelings—he’ll show them, sure, but words? not his thing. too bad that’s exactly what you need right now. both of you are unsure if he can give you that. it’s a perfect example of how different you two are from each other. 

“you’re my best friend and i love you.” he speaks, your face is unimpressed and you try to step back from him, but he holds you close, his words rush like you’re gonna disappear, “but i love you more than just as a best friend.” 

you stay in your place, wanting jake to continue, his hands relax on your body again. “then why were you so late to my birthday, jake? i thought you had forgotten about it… about me.” 

“i could never forget about you,” jake leans down to look directly into your eyes as he speaks, wanting you to know that he’s genuine. he swallows harshly before he continues, wanting to do this right, knowing that he’s not good at this type of shit. "i was just—going over everything in my head. all day. i didn’t know if i should go all out or keep it casual. if you’d pick up on my feelings or not. if i’d ruin everything." his hands tremble slightly on your waist. "i didn’t want to lose you."

your heart pounds so loud you’re sure he can hear it. suddenly, all the frustration from earlier doesn’t matter anymore.

you don’t answer—not with words, at least. instead, you pull him back in, pressing your lips to his. jake stiffens for half a second before melting into you, hands slipping around your back, holding you close like he never wants to let go ever again.

jake walks you so your back is against the kitchen island. he pulls away from you and you can see that his eyes are full with lust. you figure yours must look the same. jake swoops down and presses a deep kiss into your neck, inhaling your perfume. he can faintly smell the icing from the cake on you. over your shoulder, jake looks at the bitten-into cake. 

jake’s hands pull off your night shirt, the one you always wear no matter how stretched and oil-stained it’s gotten throughout the years. you gasp at the cold air against your skin, your chest on full display for jake so suddenly. his eyes look like they’re about to devour you. he licks his lips as he look at  your hardened nipples. 

without a second thought, jake swirls some icing from the cake behind you and swipes it onto your breast. 

“jake—!” you gasp out. before you could finish your sentence, jake’s lips are circled around your pink nipples covered in icing, sucking on it and gently pulling it. he moans against your skin. your jaw drops open at the feeling of it. his fingers tweak your other nipples, causing your back to fully arch into him already. 

jake swirls his finger into the cake again, this time slowly, gently, tracing it against your collarbone. 

“what are you doing, jake?” your voice is already breathless as you let your best friend touch you. 

“i wanna see if you, or the icing is sweeter.” he casually shrugs, leaning down and placing his tongue flat against your collarbone, licking up the icing trail in one slow lick. the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on your collarbone has you spiraling too fast for your liking. 

jake’s hands rest on your tits, massaging them and tweaking your nipples as he licks and kisses your collarbone and neck. you can feel your core getting soaked. you can’t believe you and jake are doing this. 

jake dips his finger into the icing again, this time putting his finger right in the valley of your breasts before he slowly drags it down your stomach, stopping at the top of your belly button. 

jake is on his knees in an instant, licking up your stomach the trail of icing. he pops one of your nipples into his mouth again, sucking and pulling on it just enough to get you whining above him. 

jake’s hands push down your night shorts and panties in one go, letting them pool at your feet for you to step out of. it leaves you completely bare in front of fully dressed jake. your body is on full display for him, letting him do whatever he wants to you. 

both of jake’s hands cusp your jaw, his forehead leaning on yours as he looks into your eyes, “you’re so fucking beautiful, y/n.” since he’s holding your jaw you can’t look away from him, you feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. sure, jake has called you beautiful or pretty before, but he’s never done it when you’re completely naked and exposed. “will you let me taste you, baby?” 

you nod in response, making jake smash his lips against yours again, this time softer and gentle, like he’s telling you to trust him. you could taste the icing on his lips. 

jake swipes his index and middle  fingers into the icing again. this time he pushes them in between your lips, getting you to suck on them. “that’s right, baby, get my fingers soaked so they can slide right in you.” his words make you whimper around his fingers, swallowing the sweet icing. your tongue sucks on his fingers, wanting to do as he says. jake’s eyes are glazed over as he watches you, feeling your mouth sucking against his digits. 

with a pop, he pulls them out, now shining with your saliva. he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs, teasing your already soaked hole with his saliva-covered fingers. he pushes them in slowly, but easy from all the lubricant. both of you moan as his fingers reach as far as they can inside of you. your pussy is so warm around his fingers, he can feel your walls already clenching around them and he hasn’t even moved them yet. 

jake kneels on the ground again, his fingers starting to push out and then back in again. he’s stretching you, preparing you for his cock later on. his fingers adventure and experiment with touching all over your walls. he’s determined to find the spot that makes you cry out. he’s determined to make this the best birthday you’ve ever had. 

your hands grip the kitchen island behind you, trying to stable yourself as jake starts to finger fuck you. his fingers are curling at just the right spots. your bottom lip is glued between your teeth as you watch your best friend stare so intently at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. your folds continue to suck his fingers in everytime he tries to pull them out. your juices and saliva are mixing around his slender fingers, dripping down the sides of them already. 

you throw your head back over your shoulder, the pleasure making your muscles contract and relax over and over again as jake builds your orgasm. you see the red velvet cake that he had made you, keeping your fourteen year tradition alive. you don’t stop yourself from reaching over and swiping the icing off the cake and onto your fingers. jake watches you as you bring your fingers to your folds, smearing the icing around the skin between your legs, right where you want jake’s mouth to be. 

“you want my tongue, baby?” jake smirks up at you from between your legs, his fingers still fucking into you. 

“please, i wanna cum so bad.” 

jake mumbles something about how hot you are before he delves into your folds with his mouth. his eyes closing as he starts to make out with your pussy. he keeps his fingers pushing in and out of you at a steady pace. his tongue starts to circle and tease your clit as his lips suck the skin around it. 

“oh god,” you cry out, your eyebrows bunching together as jake brings you closer to the edge. 

jake’s saliva mixes with your juices as he licks up the icing between your legs. he runs his tongue up and down your slit. your body starts to convulse at the feeling of being so close to the edge. he switches back to giving your clit pressured  sucks, flicking his tongue back and forth your clit quickly. 

your eyes stay focused on jake working your core. his eyes meet yours and a grin spreads across his face as his tongue still circles your clit, adding pressure to it. it makes you cry out, gripping the kitchen island behind you even tighter. your knees start buckling on either side of jake’s head as he kneels on your kitchen floor. 

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, jake!” you warn him, your chest starting to move sporadically as you reach the very edge of your climax. 

“do it, cum all over my face right now— cum all over your best friend's face.” jake grunts out, mumbling against your pussy as he speeds up how fast his tongue circles, how fast his fingers fuck into you. 

your high hits you so satisfyingly. all of your pent up emotions towards jake finally release as you cum onto his mouth and fingers. your body feels like it’s laced with ecstasy as your body shakes with tremors. jake’s free hand helps you stay steady against his mouth as he sucks on your pussy until you’re pushing him away because of the overstimulation. he only laughs at your whining as he pulls his fingers out of you. 

jake stands up, his lips swollen and wet from eating you out. “you really are sweeter than the icing,” jake smiles at your post-nut expression, his mouth still full of your taste. “here— try for yourself.” you let jake slip his finger sinto your mouth for the third time of the night. this time however, it’s not cream cheese icing that has you moaning around his digits, it's your own juices. 

and jake is right, it is sweeter than the icing. 

jake’s fingers slip from your lips. you wrap your arms around jake’s neck, pulling him closer to you again. his hands find their spot on your waist. you both find this position so easily, as if it wasn’t the first time in the past 14 years that you’ve done this. it feels natural, it feels right. 

jake and you are kissing again. it’s slow but passionate and needy. both of you know that the night isn’t over. especially when you feel his hard cock rub on your abdomen through his jeans. you pull away form him, looking down at where your waists are. his bulge is huge in his pants, it makes your mouth and pussy water some more. 

“let’s go to your bedroom,” jake says, his voice husky. 

“please,” 

jake’s quick to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you through your apartment and to your bedroom. you’re both laughing as he does so. you press soft kisses into his scalp as he carries you. 

jake places you down onto your bed. this isn’t the first time jake and you have been in a bed together. though, it is the first time you’ve been in this position. your legs wrapped around his waist as he hovers over you, your pussy and his lips both swollen. 

you continue to make out until either of you can take it anymore. your lips wet and plump from sucking and pulling on each others. you’re both moaning into each other's mouths. jake slowly grinded his jean covered bulge into your bare pussy, teasing the both of you. the moment feels intimate, like the both of you needed this so desperately. 

jake pulls away from you, stopping the heavy makeout sesh. his chest is panting against yours as he lays on top of you. 

“you sure you wanna do this?” 

“yes, please, jake— i need this so bad— please, it’s my birthday,” 

jake laughs, “okay okay, anything for the birthday girl.” 

jake pushes himself off the bed, standing up to take off his clothes. he discards them lazily on your bedroom floor. his lean muscles flex as he crawls back onto the bed, resuming his position of being between your legs. 

jake grabs the flesh of your thighs, holding your legs open and wide for him to be able to press his cock against your pussy. 

“spit on it,” he demands of you. 

you lean over your body, spitting down onto where his cock rests on top of your pussy. both of you can feel your clit throbbing against his cock, wanting and needing more already. 

“good girl.” 

jake grabs his dick, lining it up with your pussy before he pushes all the way in with one singular thrust. both of you let out pornographic moans, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the feeling of finally being stretched out by your best friend's cock. 

jake curses under his breath, his hair falling into his face as the feeling of you being so tight around him affects him, too. it already feels so wet and warm— jake can feel himself becoming addicted to this feeling. something that he knew would happen if he ever got you in a position like this. which is why he had tried so hard to ignore his feelings for you in the past, not wanting to ruin the friendship. 

but that’s all gone out the window now that he knows what you taste like. 

“move, please, move.” you beg of him, and who is he to deny the birthday girl?

jake leans over top of you, placing both of his hands on the mattress beside your body. your knees are bent around his waist as he starts to move his cock in and out of you, slowly at first, wanting to warm you up to the stretch of his large cock. his lips meet your own again, like they can’t be off each other long without feeling withdrawal symptoms. 

jake has to force himself to stop kissing you and he pushes himself back up, crouching himself over your body with his cock still lodged deep inside of your pussy. his feet are on the outer side of both of your hips, your knees bent and your thighs pressed against your chest in a mating press. 

jake starts to pound his cock into you at a slow but hard pace. the tip of his cock hitting your cervix every time he pushes back into you. 

“oh fuck!” you exclaim. you had imagined that sex with jake would feel good, but not this good. 

jake chuckles breathlessly as his one hand crawls to your neck, wrapping itself around it, adding pressure ever so slightly. jake’s breathless gasps and grunts mix with your whines as he fucks into you, setting a starting pace. everytime he slams himself into you, your bedframe hits the wall behind you. thankfully your bed is pushed up against the window that faces the street and not your next door neighbours. 

jake falls back onto his knees from his feet, keeping your legs placed on his broad shoulders as he continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. he aims for the spot he found earlier that he knows drives you to the edge. you keep your hands on your thighs, your eyes not leaving his face as he fucks you. 

jake’s gold chain hits his chest everytime he pulls out of you, just to drill back into you. 

“fuck i love your cock, it feels so good.” you confess, knowing already that no one would ever be able to make you feel as good as jake does. his cock seems to perfectly fit inside of you. every vein brushes against your pussy walls in the perfect way. his tip hits your g spot every single time. his hand pulses pressure around your neck, blocking complete oxygen from reaching your brain and lungs. 

jake drops your legs from his shoulders, wrapping them around his waist as he leans to hover on top of you, placing his elbows on either side of you. his cock doesn’t stop fucking into you. 

“fuck,” jake groans out, “your pussy keep sucking me back in, baby. doesn’t want my cock to leave.” 

“mhm,” you nod back to him, looking into your eyes as pleasure builds inside both of you. 

“would you like that, y/n?” jake teases you, “would you like having my cock inside of you all day?” 

his words make your walls pulse around his cock, something both of you feel, “oh god, yes. i want it in me all the time, forever.” 

jake dryly chuckles, leaning down to press a deep kiss onto your lips. you can feel his balls hitting your ass every time his hips meet your own. his pelvic bone rubs against your clit as he hovers over top of you. 

when the kiss stops, jake presses his hand over your mouth, cutting off your oxygen again, letting you moan and breathe heavily against his warm palm. jake keeps his body pressed on top of you, only his hips move as he fucks his cock in and out of you. 

at this point, both of you have sweat dripping off your bodies, your skin looks flushed. 

jake is intermittently switching between sloppily making out with you, to covering your mouth or wrapping his hand around your neck. 

“you like when i choke you, baby? like how i control when you breathe?” jake grunts out to you. 

even though you and jake had never done anything sexual up to this point, you both knew each other’s kinks and turn ons. that’s something best friends just talk about, right? 

like you know how much he loves to see girls choke on his dick. how much he loves seeing a girls ass turn red from him spanking her over and over again. just like he knows that you love being choked, love being degraded and teased as a man pounds into you. 

“i fucking love it,” you gasp out, loving how out of breath you were. 

jake smirks at your answer before he sits up on his knees again, your legs still wrapped around his waist. both of his hands land on your neck, adding enough pressure for you to lose some oxygen. jake starts using his grip on your neck to pound into your harder from a different angle. his cock hitting directly inside of you now, your cores hitting each other perfectly. 

your entire body is being pushed up and down off your mattress as jake using your body to be able to fuck into you harder and harder. 

“fuck,” jake grunts out, his teeth greeted as his pace picks up speed. your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, unable to do anything besides letting jake fuck you. your body numb to anything but the pleasure his cock was giving you. “you take my cock like such a good girl, such a nasty, good girl.” 

jake pulls his hands off your neck, and without warning, he roughly flips you over so you’re on your stomach, your plump ass up in the air for him. jake drags your hips towards him, sliding his cock back into you before he pushes your face down into the mattress. your sheets muffle your moans as he starts to fuck into you. 

jake has one hand on the back of your head, keeping it in your bed, and the other hand grips your waist. he keeps your body still, with just his hips moving as he balances himself on his knees. at this point, it feels like jake knows every square inch of your body. he knows every spot that makes you scream out his name. it’s almost ridiculous. 

“that feel good, baby?” jake asks from behind you, his hips not stopping. 

“god, fuck,” you answer, muffled by the mattress. “harder, please fuck me harder.” 

jake does as you say, letting go of the back of your head to grip your waist with both of his hands. his hips start to pound against your ass. your bedroom full of the sound of skin slapping against each other. and since you know your best friend so well, you aren’t shocked when he starts slapping your ass. a cry escapes your mouth everytime his hand meets your ass. 

“you want it hard, y/n?” jake chuckles out from behind you, “i don’t know if you can take it, baby. you already seem so close to cumming.” 

“no, no!” you try to shake your head no, “i can take it, please, please, harder.” your voice doesn’t even sound like yourself. it’s full of need and desperation. and luckily, since it’s your birthday, jake is willing to provide you with everything you want. 

his cock is still filling you up as far as it can go inside of you. it stretches you in a way you didn’t know you could be stretched. you feel so fucking full that it’s intoxicating. you think your pussy is going to be stretched out in the shape of jake’s cock. and then jake will be the only one to fuck you. 

jake’s hands reach under your core, lifting you up so your back is against his chest. his cock doesn’t stop working in and out of you, his pace never letting up. you didn’t know his stamina was this good. but who are you to complain?

jake keeps your body upwards with one hand wrapped around your waist, the other has snaked its way to your clit. all three of his fingers lay flat on your clit as he rubs them in a circle, adding intense pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves as his cock seems to start perfectly hitting your g spot. 

your hands wrap onto his thighs that are on either side of your body. 

“holy shit!” you shout, “i’m going to fucking cum if you keep doing that.” 

if it wasn’t for jake’s hands keeping you upwards, you’d be bent over limp. the pleasure was building and building and building inside of you. your muscles working overtime by contracting and relaxing repeatedly. your tits were still covered in a mix of icing and jake’s saliva. your hairline was sweaty, you could barely keep your eyes open at this point. 

“yeah? you gonna fucking cum on my cock, princess?” jake grunts in your ear from behind you. “do it. fucking do it. i wanna feel your pussy clench around my cock so bad.” 

you whimper out at his words, they only make you tighten more around his cock. your juices dripping out of your pussy and all over his cock— all over your sheets. a wet stain was starting to form on your sheets directly below you.  

“fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum on your cock.” you helplessly nod, focusing on the pleasure building in your abdomen. “just like that, like that!” 

you can’t help the scream that escapes your lips next as you come undone on jake’s cock. he’s quick to cover your mouth with his hand— silencing your loud scream so the neighbours don’t call the police. your head falls back onto his shoulder, unable to do anything but let jake fuck you through your orgasm. 

“that’s it,” jake grunts out, the feeling of your walls sporadically squeezing his cock over and over again, makes his brain fog over. “that’s a good girl, fucking wet my cock with your cum.” 

when your body finally stops shaking, jake helps you lay back onto your back, your head on your pillow. your eyes are glazed over, your body feels like it’s on high alert and just so, so sensitive. 

still, jake’s dick is rock hard, oozing pre cum, soaked in your juices. 

“i’m so close, baby.” jake’s voice is needy but gentle, “please let me fuck your pussy until i cum, please. i need it around me cock so bad.” 

you nod lazily at him, “please, please.” your hand reaches out to grab his thigh, wanting his cock back inside of you already, “need your cock in me. need to fill your cum fill me up.” 

jake can’t help but moan at your words, it makes his cock twitch at the fact that he’ll get to cum in your pussy. fill you up with his hot, warm sperm. his heart picks up pace when he visualizes what your pussy would look like as it dribbles out his cum back out and onto your sheets. 

“yeah? you wanna be my cum slut?” jake’s voice is teasing as he leans back over you, his cock already lining up with your weeping, swollen hole. “you wanna be filled with your best friend’s cum on your birthday?” 

“yes, fuck, i want that so bad, jake, please!” 

jake’s hand cups your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he laughs at your desperation. “relax, baby— you’ll get what you want.” 

jake pushes his cock back inside of you with one thrust, making both of you sigh out in satisfaction. he had only been out of your pussy for one minute but both of you were aching for him to be inside of you again already. 

jake could feel that his own orgasm wouldn’t be much longer. his cock was feeling so sensitive. everytime your soaking walls clenched somehow even tighter around him than before he could feel the pit in his stomach grow and grow. your whiny moans of his name, telling him to not stop edged him closer and closer to his orgasm. 

his hands gripped your waist roughly, focusing on trying to cum just for you. 

“oh god, jake— your cock fills me so good, i wanna feel your cum fill me, too, please.” you beg him, your sensitive walls milking his cock further and further. begging him to paint the inside of your pussy white with his cum. 

jake grunts out, his voice becoming deeper with every second, “yeah? tell me you want my cum, y/n. tell me you deserve my cum.” 

“i want your cum inside of me so bad, jake. please give it to me. i deserve to be filled with your cum, don’t i?” you beg him, your eyebrows furrowed together as you look up at him. his eyes switching between your face and your pussy. “aren’t i your good girl, jake?” 

jake lets out a deep grunt at your words, “fuck yeah, you’re my good girl. such a good girl.” jake’s cock is fucking in and out of you so quickly, you don’t even feel it leaving your pussy. “you’re my good girl so you’re gonna take my cum, right?” 

“yes! please, please! i can take it!” 

“fuck, fuck!” jake yells out, his grip on your waist surely leaving bruises now. “i’m fucking cumming.” 

when jake finally cums, it’s messy. 

his cum spurts out inside of you in thick, hot strands. both of you groaning at the feeling of him finally filling you up. jake doesn’t stop thrusting into you until his orgasm dissipates.  his brain becoming a little less foggy as he feels his cock plunged deep inside of your pussy with his sperm. 

jake gently pulls out of you and you sit up on your elbows, legs still spread wide open to watch jake’s cum start to drip out of your red, swollen hole. when it finally does, both of you moan. it’s warm as it drips down your folds, mixing with so many other substances you can’t count. 

jake is quick to reach down and gather some of his cum on his finger. your mouth is already open for it before he even asks you to. he slips his finger into your mouth. you moan at the taste, swallowing it with no hesitation. he pops his finger out of your mouth again. 

“tastes sweeter than the icing.” you tiredly smile up at him, teasing him. 

jake doesn’t laugh though, he only swoops down and presses his plump lips onto yours. the kiss is sweet and gentle, almost innocent if it didn’t just follow the multiple sinful acts you had just committed. 

the second you pull away from each other, reality takes over. your heart is still hammering from the orgasms, your lips are swollen and tingling from kissing jake so much.  your birthday is ending very differently from how it started. you’re now not only best friends with jake, but something more as well. 

jake’s still close to you, smiling at you that makes your stomach have annoying butterflies. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. his smile is contagious and suddenly you're mimicking his expression. 

“best birthday ever,” 

“yeah?” jake’s smile is boyish and smug. 

“yeah,” you shrug, “definitely better than last year’s gift.” 

“hey! socks are practical! why wouldn't you want socks?” 

“shut up, jake.” 

jake huffs out a laugh before shoving you back onto the bed, he lays down beside you. your bodies still warm and sweaty against each other’s. 

“i can’t wait until my birthday.” jake says, elbowing you suggestively. 

“bold of you to assume i’ll still be into you by then.” 

jake is unaffected, only scoffing as he sits up on his elbows to look down at you, “you’re literally obsessed with me, i have no worries.” 

“okay? and you’re obsessed with me.” 

“yeah,” jake shrugs, “but at least i can admit it.” 

jake laughs when you kick him, laying back down beside you, head right next to yours on your pillow. your bedroom goes quiet. both of you take turns looking at each other when the other isn’t. both of you are still trying to process what just happened in the past hour. 

but, you don’t need to ponder for long. you and jake are still best friends. you’re still complete opposites. still yin and yang. still a complete mess. so, in your usual chaotic way, you’ll figure out your relationship together. 

“wanna shower and then eat the rest of the cake?” jake murmurs to you. 

“hell yeah.” 

best. birthday. ever. 

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

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[zeynyukine3011]

You cannot, in any way, tell me they are not soulmates.

Jondami is the definition of "I love you in every universe."

Like look at them, they are with each other in every shape and form.

[confused-reading-ink-rat]

Wicked AU where there is a mark of your soulmate on your skin, and it becomes an outline when they die. 

Chapter 1; Poppies With Heart-Shaped Petals

It was one of the most exciting days in Shiz University. It was the day that marks would appear on your skin, and you'd finally meet your soulmate. 

______________________________________________________

The air was charged with tension, people dolling themselves for the possibility of meeting their soulmates, couples breaking up left and right, or exchanging vows, sometimes even simultaneously. It was complete social chaos. Some opportunist students were even selling snake oil cures to make the marks appear faster. Shiz really does make the dull think sharp, even if it’s for quick coin.

Galinda heard that a select few somewhat worked. But she didn't trust the rumors, especially on a day like this? She had to admit she was tempted, but her reputation had to be preserved.

Ah, Galinda Upland. She tucked a stray golden curl behind her ear and smiled at her audience, giving them their favourite show, her. 

She strode through the halls with exercised confidence radiating off her effortlessly, with Pfanne and ShenShen flanking her from behind. In truth, she was a nervous wreck inside. Her bones rattled uncontrollably inside her body, as if they'd rather crawl out from beyond the flesh and form a xylophone than deal with every what-if her half-functioning brain was churning out in her head. 

Oh, but she was perfectly fine. 

Perfectly, absolutely fine. 

(Meanwhile...)

Elphaba Thropp was tired, was soulmates the only thing on everyone's mind today? Well, the professors also extended the deadline for most of their assignments, so she couldn't really blame them when even the school encouraged them. It was the day, after all, it appeared she was the only one who didn't care for it. She avoided the crowds of students with ease, as they already gave her a wide berth. It wasn't difficult to get away from everyone when they were also trying to get away from you. 

She wasn't sharing the tense and hopeful feelings the rest of the student body was drowning in. No, she had long given up on a soulmate, believing herself to be part of the small percentage of Oz that didn't have one. It was much easier that way. Much better than holding out hope that maybe, someone out there would see beyond the green. 

She shook her head, freeing herself from the thought. She just needed to get away today, right now everyone's too busy fussing over themselves to taunt her, Oz knows how long that would last. She rounds a corner, and of course, the Universe decides that then. She just had to see Galinda Upland today. Had to see her skipping along the halls without a care in the world, bragging about how she's so confident that she'd meet her soulmate today and they'd accept her immediately, rambling on about how happy she'd be when they meet. Elphaba can't help but roll her eyes at the delusions, no one fell for someone that fast, but this was Galinda Upland. She did her best to ignore the blonde, moving on. She had better things to worry about anyways. 

She didn't, but she wasn't about to admit that to herself. 

She strolled past her as well and straight ahead, hoping to hide herself and get lost in the nooks and crannies of Shiz University before everyone realizes she's gone. They won't. No one ever comes looking for her anyways. 

Maybe to hide from herself too, and the ache of possibly having no one in her life that would want her.

Galinda paced in her shared dorm room, as she had been for the past hour already. She had assured Pfanne, ShenShen and the whole student body that her soulmate mark was just taking its sweet time to get to her, time makes the heart grow fonder after all. She wasn't sure if that was meant to ease everyone's concern or her own. It should be here by now. 

She stared at her reflection in her vanity, daring it to change something, anything. But still, nothing. No mark on her skin, no colorful reminder, none. She jumped out of her seat in frustration, muttering curses as she threw herself onto bed. 

Maybe she was a late bloomer, she had to be. Oh, yes that'd be horrendible but there was no way she had no soulmate! What would everyone think?! Oh how miserable she would be! Well not really, there were plenty of eligible soulmate-less bachelors all over Oz vying for her hand. Maybe she could form an artificial bond, oh Oz, that was desperate, but everyone needs a back-up plan— 

Galinda froze, feeling the skin just below her ear start to tingle. She hurriedly sat herself in front of her mirror, eagerly staring at her reflection, waiting for the colors to mark her body. 

As the door opened and her roommate invited herself inside, Galinda stared in disbelief. 

A simple green poppy with heart-shaped petals. 

Then, Galinda spoke in a soft tone she didn't know she could say with the name she had laced with malice so many times slipped out of her lips. 

"Elphaba.”

As usual, mentioning people;

@nether2010

@kekescalope

@spinelesscacti

@filofandomfrenzy

@thestorytellingfool

@mulder-its-me-223

@soundofcomets

@rainbow-tomato-draws @moonpheus

ALL PARTS: 

Part 1 : Here

Part 2 : Here

Part 3 : Here

Part 4 : Here

Part 5 : Here

Masterlist for all parts ; Here

If you want to keep following the story, just follow the tag "poppies with heart shaped petals" and "poppies with heart-shaped petals"

[perfectlyoongi]

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who saw you in everything that was romantic. it felt like the gods were trying to prepare Namjoon to love you; in every romantic movie, in every romantic book, in everything that came in the form of hearts and devotion, Namjoon saw you, he saw a life for himself where only happiness and hope awaited him; in everything that was romantic, the gods painted you, preparing Namjoon for a future as bright as the stars in the universe. “i think i learned to love you on television. i think i discovered what love was in books. and i feel that when i meet you, everything i learned will be worth it.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who felt your soul on greyer days. like delicate hands holding his essence, your soul responded to Namjoon on more complicated days, letting your cosmic particles calm Namjoon's turbulent heart; without seeing you, without knowing you, Namjoon already felt loved by you, because the way his soul calmed with the tender touch of your essence was too intimate to be unknown. “you are the intense flame that burns inside me that warms my heart and makes my soul more comfortable and safer.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who saw the answers to all his problems the day he met you. you were a breath of fresh air, a sun on grey days, a breeze on hotter days, you were everything that was missing in Namjoon's life and it only took one look, one exchange of words for him to realize that it was you who moved his world. “you are like a book written by the gods. your entire essence and soul are the answers to all my problems. you and your love is all i need.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who loved you day after day. Namjoon's love grew like a flower, starting from a single speck of cosmic dust and expanding into intense forests of heavenly love; one day at a time, one promise at a time, one confession at a time — Namjoon took his time to love you, because he knew perfectly well that by tasting your love, your life would be eternal. “there’s no need to be in a rush to love you when we have the rest of our lives waiting for us.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who only believed in love because of you. the movies didn’t do justice to the intense fire that burned and consumed Namjoon from the moment he met you; the books didn't do justice to the ethereal happiness that bathed and cleansed Namjoon every time he was with you; no portrait of romance did justice to the true love and passion that guided and shaped Namjoon's life since the day he swore eternal love to you. “it’s incredible how your essence is enough to welcome me and make me feel loved.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who swore he had already read your love story in the stars. Namjoon had been watching the stars since he was born and he swore to you that in their ancestral glow, in their celestial constellations, your love story was drawn; perhaps already coming from past lives, and that's why they were so marked in the dark sky, your love story repeated itself night after night, reminding you and Namjoon that it was your destiny to be together. “i feel like eternities have passed since the first time i loved you. and i know that there will be even more eternities for me to love you.”

SOULMATE!NAMJOON who would love you beyond this life. there was no way to separate you, not when the gods themselves brought you together, not when the stars themselves told your story, not when your soul and Namjoon's soul were born from the same celestial dust; in this life and the next, you and Namjoon were destined to love each other, and Namjoon never tired of reminding you. “this life is too short for us to be able to express all our love for each other. but don’t worry, there will be more lives for us to love each other.”

[lw77]

Over and Over (MV x CS)

In this life or the next, Max is determined to keep meeting Carlos, over and over, to follow his tethered half as long as he'll have him.

Carlos thought back to something Max once said. “We’re soulmates. In our last life, you left me too soon, so I followed. That’s why you’re older now, and I’m younger.” Max had said it so plainly, as if it were absolute truth, sensing the hesitation Carlos never voiced. Every time Carlos felt the tight knot of anxiety form—realising it was Max’s arms he ran to, Max’s hands he clung to, and Max’s gaze that steadied him—those words unravelled the tension.

It was a softness for Max that made his father seethe, a trait he had tried to discipline out of Carlos his whole life. But when his soul was so tightly tethered to Max, pretending otherwise felt impossible.

He thinks back to that now. They're in Barcelona for testing, his home track—the place where Carlos first met Max and where he last sat in a Formula 1 car. Standing at the edge of the track, the sun high and bright, it beats down on Carlos’s back as he watches Max slip into the cockpit. The engines roar to life, and a familiar ache tightens in Carlos’s chest—a mix of pride and something deeper.

The last time he was here, he had stayed in the cockpit, helmet firmly on and head bowed. It was then that he realized he didn’t want to do it anymore. He had only ever stayed for the friends, then because his father wanted him to, and finally because it was the only place their fathers had no choice but to let them meet—bound by teams, contracts, and duties that served as a mask. He had never been the hunter his father wished him to be, never became the driver his father pushed him to be. Too soft. Always too soft to hold any shape his father pressed into him.

He wonders now if he ever truly accepted his dad pushing him into karts because some part of him knew it would lead him to Max. Was it all just fate’s twisted way of bringing them together? How cruel fate was, Carlos sneers, to let him break over and over as his father tried to shape him into someone he wasn’t meant to be. He gave years to the sport—to his father, only for them to chew him up. At least he managed to spit himself out before they could.

Back in the garage, Max prepares for the track, his eyes set with determination. The fluorescent lights cast a soft glow, a halo around him—the same Max who followed Carlos into F1 at seventeen because he always knew what they were.

As if feeling the weight of Carlos’s thoughts, Max’s gaze finds his, and when their eyes meet, he presses a kiss through his helmet to his index finger—I carry you with me.

—----

He’s leaning against the garage, waiting for Max to join him.

"Do you ever wonder if we really lived other lives?" The thought that they've been in each other's orbit far longer than they can imagine—that they've met as soulmates each time—goes unsaid as Carlos murmurs, his words barely audible above the cacophony. But then he remembers the weight of Max's gaze—how it anchors him and makes him feel like he belongs to something bigger than himself. He recalls how at peace he feels in Max's presence, how his heart slowed into a summer calm the first time they met, as if it recognized, before Carlos did, that he was whole. Carlos can't imagine a life without it; he can't envision his soul in any universe not being halved so Max can piece it together.

“Every day,” Max replies, his voice cutting through the noise as he emerges from the garage, wiping sweat from his brow. “I think about all the times we’ve found each other. It’s like we’re destined to collide, over and over.”

Carlos turns, a faint smile easing the tightness in his chest. “Maybe that’s why I can’t let go. No matter how hard I try, amor.” Leaning back against the cool garage, something stirs in his chest—something heavy and unspoken. He tilts his head, feigning confidence, but Max sees through it.

Grinning, Max steps closer, his eyes softening as he cups Carlos’s cheek in his hand, his touch both familiar and grounding. It’s as if he knows what Carlos is afraid to say. “You’re not supposed to let go, remember? Didn’t I tell you? I followed you for a reason. It’s always been you.” Max’s thumb brushes lightly over the dark circles beneath Carlos’s eyes, and Carlos lets his lashes flutter closed, feeling the tension melt under Max’s touch—the only anchor against the tide of anxiousness that threatens to wash over.

“Do you wish I never stopped? That it was still me in the garage next to you?” Carlos whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his vulnerability.

Max’s gaze deepens, and for a moment, the noise of the track fades into the background. “Always,” he admits softly. “But it’s not just about you racing. I want you everywhere, you know? When you’re not here, when I don’t see you—” Max shakes his head, closing his eyes as if whatever he thought is something he doesn’t want to hold onto. “It feels like I imagined all of this. Like I’ll have to chase you into the next life just to see you again.”

Max’s confession hits Carlos like a tidal wave, chest splitting open with the weight of it. His heart surges toward Max—this boy, now a man—ready to carry both of them. He grasps Max’s wrists, his face cradled between Max’s warm hands, and holds his gaze. Max’s fingers trace gently over his features—his brows, cheekbones, and lips—brushing tenderly against the stubble Carlos has been growing. Max’s reverent gaze never wavers, as if he’s memorising every detail, every touch, as if this moment is his last chance to do so.

It churns something deep in Carlos's chest, unaware of how fragile it all feels to Max to finally have him—for them to be together without the threat of either of their fathers looming over them ever again. He remembers when they were still boys under their fathers' guardianship, bound by filial duty and controlled by paternal pride. How the pain of their forced distance clawed at him, reminding him of all the times they could only brush hands or clasp each other’s necks in feigned sportsmanship, desperate for just a moment of warmth—a fleeting chance to soothe the ache of a bond stretched too thin.

Suddenly, it’s like Carlos is the one going 300 km/h, not Max. Carlos who waits on Max’s side of the garage, hand covering his mouth, too scared to watch the TV, too strung out to focus on anything but the data. Heart racing until Max returns, helmet off, healthy, whole—alive. Max is on the other side, speeding around the track, desperate to find him, to know he’s still there, waiting—real.

He presses a kiss to the palms still cradling his face, pulling Max from whichever depth of thought he’d fallen into—I’m here. Max answers his kiss with a gentle press to his hair, and as one hand slips to his neck, he pulls Carlos into him, drawing him closer—You are.

Author's note: This is based on the idea I had and the little blurb I wrote for it yesterday. I may make this multi-chaptered sometime in the future but this is it for now, so enjoy!

[melancholymetropolis]

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots. 

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on. 

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal. 

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket. 

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame. 

I was simply stuck. 

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting. 

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.” 

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace. 

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob. 

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs. 

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out. 

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin. 

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply. 

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me. 

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him. 

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded. 

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet. 

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning. 

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then." 

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me. 

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid. 

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't. 

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance.  The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions. 

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met. 

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy. 

I cried when I saw them. 

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him. 

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality. 

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me. 

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths. 

His thoughts were loud in my mind. 

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine. 

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth. 

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him. 

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.” 

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me. 

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together. 

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month. 

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me. 

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever. 

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.” 

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me. 

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed. 

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia. 

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment. 

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance. 

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock. 

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips. 

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me. 

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck. 

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body. 

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch. 

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face. 

 Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that. 

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended. 

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck. 

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again. 

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan.  Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on. 

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.” 

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly. 

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously. 

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched. 

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine. 

I adore you. 

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

[somebodys-nightmare]

Those Chosen by the Planet: Are Cloud & Tifa Soulmates?

We know from the OG/Compilation that Cloud & Tifa share a deep emotional and spiritual bond. But after Rebirth, I am curious about the true nature of their connection and how soul-bound they really are - and why.

In order to organize this efficiently, I’ve broken this down into parts to best explain both background information as well as specific events that have led me to my conclusions/thoughts. The outline is as follows:

Part 1: The Lifestream (Background)

Part 2: What’s Happening with Cloud?

Part 3: The Lifestream Scene (Chapter 9)

Part 4: The Reunion Flower & Tifa’s Trial

Part 5: The Ending

Part 6: The Lifestream Scene (OG/Part 3)

Part 7: Those Chosen by The Planet: Soul-bound

Let's get started!

Part 1: The Lifestream (Background)

To set the context, I want to first explain my thoughts on the nature of the Lifestream, which is the primary worldbuilding and lore context of FFVII and in particular, how it is being explored in the FF7R trilogy.

In the FFVII Rebirth Ultimania, scenario writer Mr. Nojima shares that he studied Buddhism’s Yogacara & Jung’s theory of the ‘collective unconscious’. He states these concepts inform the “worldview” of the story and give hints about the mysteries and the ending of the trilogy.

I believe that he is referring specifically to the multiple “worlds” that we see in FF7R, which in turn are manifestations of the Lifestream. Let’s break these down first. I will try to explain these concepts as succinctly and relevantly to FFVII as possible.

Yogacara is a school of Buddhist philosophy that states our experiences of the world are shaped entirely by our mind. What we perceive as the external world is really a projection of our consciousness. Thus, everything we experience is a result of mental activities & states.

There are 8 levels of ‘consciousness’ in the Yogacara philosophy:

1-5: The 5 Senses Consciousness: Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. These are the things we “experience” in reality through our body’s physical perceptions.

6: The Mind Consciousness: The mental process that integrates and interprets the above sensory information. This is how our mind translates the Sense consciousness of what we see, hear, feel, etc.

7: The Self Consciousness: The aspect of consciousness that involves the sense of self and ego. This is the level of consciousness that revolves around our identity and how it relates to everything else.

8: The Storehouse Consciousness: The deepest level of consciousness that stores all past experiences and ‘karmic seeds’, influencing current and future experiences. These also shape and store an individual's hopes and dreams.

I believe that the Yogacara philosophy forms the lore’s basis of the ‘individual’ consciousness of a person, or their soul, as it relates to the Lifestream. Every human being has their own individual “Lifestream” which becomes a part of the “collective” Lifestream at death.

In this process, a person’s consciousness diffuses into the collective consciousness of the Lifestream. Considering what is happening to Cloud in the game, it is important to understand how the Yogacara and its levels of consciousness influence this lore.

Additionally, it's important to understand that both Sephiroth & Aerith are able to maintain their individual consciousness & not “diffuse” into the Lifestream. This is why after death they are still both ‘whole’ & able to traverse the Lifestream “worlds”.

Which brings me to…

The Collective Unconscious: In psychology, Jung’s collective unconscious describes the part of the unconscious mind that contains shared memories and archetypes common to all humanity.

These universal symbols & experiences influence our thoughts, feelings, & behaviors, connecting us to the broader human experience. It explains why people from different cultures or time periods can share myths, symbols, & themes in their stories and dreams.

I believe these both set basis for the “collective consciousness” of the Lifestream & its relation to the indivdual, which contains the essence of the planet & the memories, emotions, & knowledge of all who lived on it. In Rebirth, we see two representations of the Lifestream:

1. The Physical Lifestream: below ground, represented by ethereal green liquid, energy wisps, and rocky landscapes of the planet’s core. This is where Tifa falls in Gongaga, where the WEAPONs & Whispers are fighting, and where Sephiroth’s true form is.

It is also where Tifa sees fixed memories represented by holographs. This also seems to be the form of Lifestream reality in which the OG Lifestream scene takes place, again seen by the physical structures and the manner in which Cloud and Tifa fell into it in Mideel.

I believe the manifestations of individual consciousness/soul, or an individual’s lifestream, are seen here. Note that there is a physical battle between “the planet & its enemies” seen here and that Sephiroth is seen fighting perhaps more strenuously & aggressively than anywhere else, where we typically do not see his true form.

2. The Metaphysical Lifestream: This seems to be the “plane” of existence that manifests in infinite branches & paths, represented by rainbow imagery we see throughout the game & manifests the “worlds” present in 'Zack’s Story', each marked by a different breed of Stamp.

I believe that this is the manifestation of the “collective” Lifestream, thus containing memories, emotions, knowledge, AND hopes and dreams of the collective spirits within it.

This is where Zack’s realities manifest, representing, it seems, unfulfilled desires or unfinished business, creating a purgatory of sorts or a confluence of memories and emotions. Sephiroth and Aerith seem to have great power in and over these manifestations in different ways, which I believe is also a source of the conflict involving Zack (a separate conversation).

Now that we understand how the Lifestream seems to be functioning, this brings me to…

Part 2: What’s happening with Cloud?

Cloud’s true self/spirit/psyche is currently shattered within the collective unconscious of the metaphysical Lifestream. This is the definition of mako-poisoning, especially in a severe case like Cloud’s.

We see this explained with Jessie’s dad, as well as with Cloud in Mideel in the OG. When a person comes into prolonged contact with mako, they are at risk for information overload from the knowledge of the collective of the Lifestream.

This can cause a person to lose their sense of self, similar to how a person’s consciousness/soul diffuses into the Lifestream upon death. In the case of a living person who cannot withstand the mako poisoning, however, they become “trapped” or “shattered” in the Lifestream.

At this stage, Cloud is still functioning because his contact with Tifa allows him to “wake up” & build a persona, aided by the Jenova cells reading her memories, by his own desires & delusions of grandeur, and his memories of Zack’s experience.

However, we see his true, broken consciousness throughout the collective unconscious of the metaphysical Lifestream (Zack’s side story).

Tifa’s role, as we know, is to help Cloud restore his sense of self after further mako poisoning following the events of the Northern Crater when his false persona is broken and he falls into the Lifestream.

Which brings me to…

Part 3: The Lifestream Scene (Chapter 9)

There’s a lot to say about Chapter 9 and Gongaga, but Tifa falling into the Lifestream is arguably the most important scene in the game as far as foreshadowing for the final installment of the trilogy.

This scene’s purpose is to solidify Tifa’s heroine role for the third game and to prepare her for the task she will undertake, while giving basis for it - a basis that was famously unexplained in the OG but has now been fleshed out.

Tifa falls into the reactor’s mako pool & is carried directly into the physical Lifestream by the WEAPON in the earth’s core. Here, she sees her fixed memories, represented directly in the rocky terrain of the planet, & surrounded by energy wisps and liquid of the Lifestream.

While locations are fixed, images of memories are represented and play out with green holograms, and voices by green pulsing energy wisps. She also sees the white Whispers of the planet & the black Whispers of Sephiroth/Jenova fighting, & Sephiroth’s corruption of the Lifestream via Jenova, aka “Black” or “Negative” Lifestream, represented by purple energy.

Note that Sephiroth, in his true form, physically attacks Tifa & the WEAPON carrying her here.

I can’t say for sure, but while these are definitely Tifa’s memories, they also seem to be Cloud’s. Before Tifa falls into the Lifestream, Cloud becomes vulnerable to Sephiroth’s mental attack because of the effects of the mako fumes in the reactor. This leads me to believe there is an opening for Cloud’s consciousness in the Lifestream to be connected to Tifa's, and that the Planet took the opportunity of Tifa being pushed into the mako (by Cloud) to connect them.

The memories Tifa sees are her own but are also Cloud’s, and given the context of Gongaga but also Cloud’s identity crisis and the entire internal conflict, this is significant and what we must focus on.

The perspectives of the memories are more Cloud-centric - in 2 out of 3 the camera is behind Cloud (bridge and Tifa’s house) and in the third, the memory focuses on what Tifa is saying to Cloud (water tower).

We also have to consider Tifa’s lack of awareness of events and her memory loss during these memories. The Planet seems to be showing her these scenes from Cloud’s perspective to inform and prepare her prior to her duty in disc 2/part 3.

There are also untouched memory locations you can spot in the scene: the gates of Nibelheim, Stargazer Heights, and Seventh Heaven. The Nibelheim gates we know are important for Cloud’s identity from the OG Lifestream scene.

Stargazer Heights is where Cloud tells Tifa he remembers the promise (curiously, that memory is placed close to the water tower memory.)

And while Cloud and Tifa have obviously a lot of interactions in Seventh Heaven, I think the critical moments are actually those seen in Ever Crisis after Tifa finds Cloud at the train station, as those memories directly influence Cloud’s identity.

The “planet and its enemies” - The WEAPONs, Whispers, and Sephiroth and Jenova - are physically fighting over these memories. Sephiroth tries to kill Tifa here. We see the purple corruption of Lifestream Black occurring in this scene.

We see Tifa on the brink of death and seeing Cloud’s spirit being led away from her and her voice silenced from him by Sephiroth.

It seems to me that following this event, Cloud and Tifa’s consciousness’ are already linked. Tifa also has been given preemptive strength and knowledge to save Cloud when the time comes in part three.

Which brings me to…

Part 4: The Reunion Flower

The Reunion Lily appears on the mailbox of Tifa’s house twice: In Cloud’s flawed flashback of the Nibelheim Incident in Kalm, and during Tifa’s Trial in the Temple of the Ancients.

It does not appear at her house during the fixed memory in the Chapter 9 Lifestream scene. I think this is because the flower wasn’t actually there, but is rather a “totem” or marker of Cloud’s psyche.

Cloud knows from events in Remake what the flower symbolizes. In his flashback, he falsely remembers that he and Tifa reunited with him being a SOLDIER, though we know this isn’t true because he hid himself from her.

The flower reappears during Tifa’s Trial in the ToTA. Her trial takes place during the promise scene & the Nibelheim Incident, the same period as Cloud’s flashback, and when she was hoping to reunite with him - but thinks that she did not (because Cloud hid himself).

In the OG, the appearance of young Cloud is representative of the Real Cloud and his psyche. My belief is that his appearance here is another indication that after Tifa falls into the Lifestream, Cloud and Tifa are mentally and spiritually connected.

Next...

Part 5: The Ending

While the ending may be confusing, several replays make it clear to me that Aerith is dead & that once again, the metaphysical Lifestream (indicated by rainbows) is in play in what we see.

Cloud, who is shattered in the collective unconscious of the metaphysical Lifestream, can see what is “manifested” in these worlds. Similarly, these worlds are influenced not only by memories, and knowledge, but by hopes, dreams, and desires.

Without going off on another tangent, I think Cloud is seeing the manifestation of his desire to save Aerith’s life in the metaphysical Lifestream & that she is temporarily aiding him in this delusion (remember, Aerith can maintain her sense of self within the LS after death).

After the murder, Barret & Tifa run up & we are given BOTH of their perspectives of this death scene. Barret very clearly only sees the real-world scene - Aerith dead, bleeding, etc.

However, when we get Tifa’s perspective, she sees glimpses of what Cloud sees - including his mental static - with interspersed scenes of the real-world death and the rainbow Lifestream where Aerith is not dead or bleeding but is "saved”.

Tifa is quite confused & horrified but seems to accept the actual scene - her death. She is not deluded or blocking things out, she knows what is real.

It’s confusing but it is purposefully clear to me that Tifa is seeing, or can see, what Cloud sees. It is not revealed how much Tifa knows is Cloud’s delusion but it is clear that she is deeply affected, not only by the murder of her friend but by something else.

And Tifa remains disturbingly distraught for the rest of the game. In fact, when she calls Aerith’s name in this scene it’s her last line in the game - she does not speak again. Once again, this is a clue to me that Cloud & Tifa are soul-bonded bc of the chapter 9 events.

In the ending CGI, Cloud tells the group not to look up. Barret does and says he doesn’t see anything. Tifa looks up but doesn’t comment, instead continues to look distressed. Does she also see the rift that Cloud sees? Her behavior is the most jarring of the entire party.

In the penultimate cinematics, we see the WEAPONS circling Tifa & Cloud’s memories again, trying to protect them from “the planet’s enemies”. We can see Tifa’s house, the bridge, and the gates of Nibelheim under them.

These sequences are plot arrows for what we should expect to see in Part 3. It should be lost on no one that the planet is actively fighting to protect Cloud & Tifa’s precious memories, especially after personally guiding Tifa through them.

Which brings me to...

Part 6: The Lifestream Scene (OG/Part 3)

All of the above has led me to conclude that Cloud & Tifa are now spiritually or “soul-bound” in some way, explicitly for the preparation of the Lifestream Scene of Part 3.

Tifa’s role is to help Cloud “restore his sense of self” by entering his individual Lifestream and navigating their fixed memories and the truth about his identity in the physical Lifestream, which occurs when they fall in Mideel.

Rebirth has not only prepared Tifa for this role, but has given us the navigation, insight, and background lore for how it will occur and what the experience might actually entail. This may include elements of both the physical and Metaphysical Lifestream mentioned above.

It has set the stage for an in-depth expansion of the original scene that does not solely focus on what happened when rebuilding Cloud’s psyche, but the why behind his choices and decisions that let them to this moment.

These scenes have also demonstrated why Cloud’s consciousness - his individual Lifestream consciousness that contains his “self-consciousness” and “storehouse consciousness”- is and will remain closed off to anyone other than Tifa.

This is where Cloud’s true desires are concealed and must be revealed to Tifa in the Lifestream scene to facilitate his restoration and their reunion and reconciliation.

Which brings me to…

Part 7: Those Chosen by The Planet- Soulmates?

Why is all of this happening? Cloud is the boy who is destined to save the planet, and Tifa is destined to save him. If the planet has memories of the future as well as the past, then it knows this.

Just like the planet knows that it needs the last Cetra in the Lifestream to help save it, it also knows that it needs Cloud to defeat Sephiroth. And I think the planet has known this for a long time.

Is it far-fetched to wonder if the planet is somewhat responsible for the genesis of Cloud and Tifa’s bond? That, in keeping with the theme of fate, it has influenced the circumstances that have both brought them together and pulled them apart throughout the Compilation?

Is it possible that the planet kept baby Cloud and Tifa alive during the bridge incident? Now, with the context of the Remake Trilogy, I don’t see how two small children survived that fall.

Are Cloud and Tifa chosen by the Planet?

Are they soul mates?

Maybe we’ll find out.

Thanks for reading!

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Hope you’re doing well especially with the personal matters that are going on in your life! Hope you feel better and I hope things calm down for you sooner rather than later! 🖤 happy to see you back though!

I’ve been thinking more and more about how Siren!San would be as a mate (if you don’t feel like writing this that’s totally fine! 🖤🖤🖤)

Being Siren!San's Mate

❥Siren Choi San x gn reader

➯a/n: thank you 🫶🫶 i hope my little ramblings of being siren sans mate are enjoyable !

▼・ᴥ・▼ (✯◡✯)genre: headcanons, fantasy

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of kidnapping, fantasy body transformations, fated soulmates, not proof read

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

Sannie canonically has blonde hair in Shells, and I don't know if I've mentioned his tail color but I think it would be a pale pink. That in mind, he's a shallow water siren as apposed to a deeper water siren, because he blends in better. (Unlike Hongjoong with red hair and fluctuating tail color, who blends in with the darker waters)

That most likely is the way he meets his mate, and not a wreck or attack. Just his mate swimming a few miles off shore and he catches a whiff and then they're gone *poof*

San, in any universe, shape, or form, is a family man so he's like an excited puppy: swims around in circles at the pool entrance of his den until his mate wakes up.

When his mate wakes up and is inevitably like YO WTF DAWG, he's calm and collected even though his heart is about to jump out of his chest. He won't crowd his mate *cough cough hongjoong* because he's deathly afraid of sending them into shock from his mark.

That being said, he's still incredibly clingy-

Angel in Shells is a lucky woman 🙏(besides the kidnapped and turned into a siren part) because let me tell you Siren!San is not letting a single hair on his mates body be hurt or even uncomfortable.

Too cold? Boom- fire. Too hot? Boom- cooling lotion. Sad? He'll sing a song! Angry? Well that's okay, you can hit his chest and cry until you tire yourself out.

That's par for the course for most sirens with their human mate I think, but San takes it seriously. He'd slap a fish if it looked at you the wrong way and yell at seaweed that spooked you on your first trip into the water. (ex. not wanting Angel to touch Joongs mate because he doesn't want her to get sick, and comforting her)

He's a lot more in tune with his emotions than you'd think, he knows it's 'okay' to be exited but he also knows that you're going through a huge shock and so he lets out his excitement by talking to you. Whether you listen or not, it really doesn't matter.

And it also doesn't matter what he's talking about- though he makes it a point to avoid talking about things that make your heart beat irregular. He sticks to tame things at first, like the tribe and how they work and his own family and his favorite spots to sunbathe just under the surface of the water (promising to take you to all of them).

He tells his mate what's to come, unlike Hongjoong who dropped his moms lore and then shut that shit down 😭

Once you start transforming, he's nearly suffocating with watching your process in pure awe.

The first time he sees his mates tail?? He's thanking the Huntress for every little moment that lead him here.

If it matches his like some mates do, whew boy prepare to be smooched to death. (Prepare to be smooched to death either way actually)

The first time you go hunting together, his cheeks are sore from all the smiling he's doing, he wants to teach you anything and everything there is- and he will in due time.

One little detail I think really fits Siren!San is that every night before bed, even when he slept on the floor in those first few weeks to give you the comfort of his nest, he'd blow on your wrist to see his signature appear- ecstatic every time knowing that you were fated for him.

The first night you do it back, both of your scales turning pink when your name mimics his, he nearly dies of pure bliss.

[whosmarinette]

One of my most precious personal interpretations of Gwen's character in Spiderverse is how she views interpersonal relationships. Specifically how she views friendships - and why she said Miles was the only friend she ever made after Peter died. And even when Miles cheekily asked her about Hobie, she brushed it off as being 'different'.

You see, friendship is a pretty arbitrary concept. One person will call someone they just met a friend if the vibe is right (and that person would be me), while another needs to have an incredibly deep personal connection. And this gets shaped by a lot of different factors.

Gwen did have people who at least wanted to be her friends aside from Peter - her bandmates, for example. But her and Peter shared a connection vowed through pretty much a life together. I mean, there's a whole montage where it shows them sharing meals for what seems like years and what seems like every major event.

At that point, whether Gwen realized it or not, Peter wasn't just a friend. He was family. The closest person in the world to her, someone who understood her because they shared so many formative experiences. He was her soulmate in the sense that their souls got shaped together like how rocks get worn down and shaped together by a current. And, well, also the whole multiverse stuff.

After Peter died, Gwen was convinced she'll never have a connection like that again - and decided to swear off connections as a whole. Which is understandable. The dent this loss made in her life was undeniable, especially considering it also strained her relationship with her father.

And then she met Miles. And the first thing he does when they meet? He makes her laugh. She just can't help it. She also can't help but stare at him in class afterwards, even for a little bit. And mind you, this is pre-spider bite. It wasn't her spider-sense that went off like it does in the presence of another spider-person. She was stranded in an alternate universe, where there's another spider-man, she probably is incredibly confused and uncomfortable, and probably already glitching by that point. And then this guy comes in, makes a stupid joke and she cant. help. but. laugh.

She quickly grows in fondness towards Miles, and after just a day of working together, she knows it's something special. She keeps a picture they took together to look at when she most needs it. She visits him despite Miguel's wishes. She looks him in the eyes, knowing, that 'in every other universe it doesn't end well' and she still leans on his shoulder.

Hobie and Pavitr are her friends. That's undeniable.

But Miles? He is her soulmate.

[cosmicbrowniebox]

Can you write some fluff with the haikyuu boys (mainly Atsumu, Kuroo, Oikawa and Akaashi) laying on readers chest?? Just some good ol fluff🌚

yes omg ^.^ id lobe to idk if I was supposed to pick but on a Tsumu kick rn but ill def do a pt2 with the other three gonna do him based off of dif songs I can see him putting in playlists for his partner

ft: atsumu miya x mangaka!gn reader

warnings: nothing just pure fluff

a/n. this was a bit short cus i was procrastinating a bit and flipping back and fourth between this and my crochet project but I hope u like it annon^.^

wc.683

Cuddling with a six-foot setter wasn't easy, but cuddling with Atsumu Miya felt like being draped with a weighted blanket, his bleach-blonde hair tucked under my chin as we scrolled through TikTok, watching fan edits of us. "They've been picking good songs for the edits they make of you recently, Tsum," I mumbled, looking down at the half-asleep man resting on my chest. "Mhm, you're probably the one giving them all those ideas from your Spotify," he muttered back as I ran my hand through his hair. "You're the one who kept talking about it when the reporter asked you about your workout playlist," I quipped, placing a small kiss atop his head. "Now all people like to say about us is that I made you listen to all the sweet stuff," I said sarcastically as I played with the hair resting at the back of his neck.

"Because you're the one making me all sweet just for your enjoyment," he responded, his sleepy voice making me want to laugh. He sounded like he was drowning in the thought of wanting to sleep but tried his hardest to stay awake so we could have some form of time together since he had been busy all day with another game. If he had asked me who they had played, I could honestly not tell, with the fact that he had looked like a focused puppy on his way to get a win in tug of war against another dog.

"Yeah, mhm, not like you didn't tell me to add The Smiths on there, saying that it reminded you of us," I huffed with a small laugh. As we stayed quiet for a moment, it felt like nothing was moving around us, like it was our second year again and he was sneaking into my bedroom window and me holding him after an especially long day. Atsumu Miya was like a big golden retriever when it was just us, nothing to do about volleyball or a chapter I had to complete for my editor. It was just the calm silence of our bedroom with the white noise of the Tokyo streets. I sometimes wondered, would we be like this in every universe, laying here, his head tucked under my chin as we watched videos of him on my phone? It felt silly in a way, thinking that maybe we would, and that we'd always find our way to each other, even if times got hard. I'd always find him.

"Tsum?" I said, my voice soft as I spoke. "Hm," he mumbled, tracing shapes absentmindedly against my collarbone. "Do you think we would be soulmates in every universe like how we are now?" I asked, not even sure if he'd answer or not, but I felt his head lift ever so slightly to look at me as he spoke. "You're gonna be my partner in every life and universe, even when we're old and grey, and you do that little knitting thing with the yarn and have grandkids, we'll still be together torturing Samu," he responded, earning a laugh as he kissed me. It felt like it always did, like I was sixteen again, kissing him for the first time in his room because we thought it would be better to practice kissing with each other so whenever we got our own partners, we didn't look silly.

"I hope Samu knows we'll become more insufferable with time," I mumbled against his lips as I turned my phone off. His head fell right back to its original position, sprawled out all over me as if he was my personal blanket. "He'll know, I can tell," he responded with a small smile.

[freetobeafcknriot]

Okay but hello! I saw your post about a Soulmate!AU for TUA and with season 4 coming I feel like I need to know more sooooo may I?

anon the way you made me screech and giggle and cry tears of joy because of course you may know more?? i've been waiting for this??? for reference, this is the post and this is how i'm tagging the au to keep track of it on my blog. because i may not have a title, but i'm an editor and sometimes a writer and almost always i just have an overreacting imagination. so i definitely needed a tag. anyway! i'll... idk i will give you a few details? hcs? this is the gist of it, buckle up !

the psa for this is that there are two kind of soulmarks: the ones you already have when you are born (if you're born with it; not everyone is and as a matter of fact the only two brellies to have a twin flame are allison and klaus) and the ones that appear through life (way more common). a case could be made to differentiate between these two categories, for which we either talk about twin flames—allegedly what once was one single soul now split in two perfect halves who are said to recognize and yearn for one another—or soulmates—two souls drawn to one another out of compatibility or remembrance who connect and form something.

this may vary from one culture to another, but there generally is no fixed standard regarding romantic or platonic bonds, as every soulmark and soul bond are unique in form and shape and meaning. this is the core of it all.

now. . . when they're little, reginald makes six of his seven children get the umbrella academy tattoo. in this universe, that tattoo is sort of a faux mark, because reginald had a strict and precise stance on soulmarks and at the time claimed that such things were foolish compared to the duty the academy had towards the world. the team should have formed a united front, be a unit, so that tattoo was a symbol that was to be seen as binding. marks and bonds can be made not just by fate, after all! at the time, little viktor was exempt from it because he wasn't part of the academy.

(little did they know that years down the line, in the sixties, an actual mark would appear on that same spot. this time though there would be seven of them.)

anyway, i don't know if you want a rundown of the soulmarks and whatnot? i have an in-depth list of bonds (both marked and not) with backstories and considerations and hcs regarding canon events that is quite lengthy because i imagine the au splitting in two branches at some point—one canon compliant up to season 4 when it's out and one canon divergent post-season 1 or 2—and  i'm also writing down a list of the soul bonds within the academy that is basically an abstract from viktor's book (because he would have included it too). i'll keep it short for starters because otherwise i'll end up unloading too much on you all and i'm afraid of being too all over the place, but basically. THE SOUL BONDS:

there's the tattoo of the series/faux mark and the actual soulmark that in my mind appears on top of it mid-season 2 and is shared by the brellies. team zero, hey? then from the oldest to the most recent to manifest we've got. . .

FIVE & VIKTOR, the rings ┈ because i nicknamed them all according to their soulmarks they have this small pigmented ring on the right ring finger that changes in shade depending on the physical distance between them. very subtle and cool and with much lore following canon, as you may guess. the only thing i'm gonna say for now is that five and vik's soul bond goes back to when they were four and it played a small role in the leaving lights on and sanwiches out situation.

LUTHER & ALLISON, the cryptolect ┈ it means that they can speak a language of their own. literally! it's impossible for anybody but them to understand it, reginald probably tried and failed to identify patterns or elements from various linguistic branches to make some sense of it but it just can't be picked up or taught as it's basically second nature. given how luther and allison were as kids it was such a big deal and so obvious that no one even remembers a time before and obviously due to recent events it's kinda cool to me to see it as a bit deteriorated but still ever-present bond.

FIVE & BEN, the wisps ┈ literally what five started calling the two flame-like little spirits that represent his and ben's soul bond after ben pointed out that they looked like the will-'o-the-wisp he'd read about in a book. but also because of the way they would appear and always lead the way to one another. that was their thing. nobody but five and ben has ever been able to see the wisps, not even klaus, so they had a theory that maybe they were an echoed apparition of their souls or something like that. there's a lot of lore/hcs here, too, especially regarding five's disappearance and time in the apocalypse and ben's afterlife as a ghost. all i can say is ‘so close yet far’ and ‘never truly gone’.

KLAUS & BEN, the timers ┈ it is as it says, only there were speculations about what the timers led to given that they weren't aligned (read: they were counting down to different dates) and not even made out of conventional numerals. the soulmark itself was a bit above the inner crook of the left elbow, no darker than a sunspot, regularly in motion and indicating years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds in roman numerals, which is part of the reason why it was a bit difficult to interpret with no previous familiarity. even more so if you're oblivious or in denial. again, lore and angst and delayed realization came with a row of light null characters in its stead. quite a bit of baggage because i love them and canon says so.

DIEGO & KLAUS, the compass ┈ more specifically, i have it jotted down as a moving indicator that appeared more or less when they were around thirteen or fourteen. it might have seemed out of the blue then, but all things considered it wasn't that unexpected, especially when you look at season one or if you too think that diego used to haul klaus from the streets or drag him to rehab if they ran into one another. anyway, their soulmark is kind of a compass if you go by its shape. it's embedded on the lower part of the palm of their right hand, towards the thumb (below klaus' hello tattoo), and it does move and spin, but instead of pointing north it points you towards the general direction of the other.

OG!BEN & VIKTOR, the blossoms ┈ the most subtle and late soul bond of them all. i like to think that the lowest numbers were close as kids, given the information we were given, so even though their relationship might have stilled a little in their teens it was still tender enough to grant viktor and ben a soul bond. they were never sure of when it happened because the only instance where the soulmark in on itself becomes visible is when they touch. physical contact equals a tiny luminescent outlined flower appearing near the knuckle of their left middle finger. to which i feel the need to remind you all of this:

so these are the soul bonds within the hargreeves siblings! without taking into account sparrow!ben (or the sparrows in general) because stars do i have something in store for pookie as well.

i was tempted to add more, but i also wanted to emphasize how there doesn't always need to be an actual, visible soulmark for a bond to be important plus i'm waiting to see if season 4 makes me add more lol. diego is a primary example of this because, without spoiling anything, he secretly craved that kind of bond as a child, even though his siblings love him just the same regardless. it's also the reason why i have a list of non-marked bonds as well as one for soul bonds featuring characters outside of the academy. there might also be a playlist somewhere, because each bond has a song in my mind, but i digress!

this has gotten super long already so for now, that's it that's all. but i'm tagging this au and working on it and my inbox is there if you uuh, wanna chat about it more? ngl it was hard not being able to rant about it with anybody, because there are some elements and facts and implications there that genuinely alter my brain chemistry daily. so thank you for the ask, nonnie! <3

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Soulmate

day 18 @youngroyals-events

Wille, crossfaded and face down on the football field, realizes some things.

Or, Wille sees his and Simon's lives laid out, intertwining across every universe.

read below or on ao3. (T, 800) cw: substance abuse

Wille can’t move. Well, he could move, he just doesn’t really want to. Despite the cold wetness pressed against his cheek and the grittiness in his mouth, he’s quite comfortable. No bed at a fancy palace could ever compare to this. Not even the bright lights in his half-open eyes bother him. His body feels light and wavy. If he shuts his eyes fully, though, things start to spin. That isn’t as comfortable, so he keeps them partially open, slowly blinking against the cold mist. 

There is a familiar smell about the place he can’t put his finger on. Has he been here before? 

Where is here?

The pointer finger on his right hand twitches. He remembers. He is on grass. No, not grass. Turf. He rolls onto his side and drags a hand through the damp plastic. The lingering rain is probably soaking through his clothes, too. His mamma would be so mad, if she saw him like this. The thought makes him giggle. 

Imagine the headlines, Mamma. 

I’m sorry I can’t be him. 

He doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He is tired. To make sure he still can, he brings both hands to his face and presses his palms into his eyes, inhaling deeply, then letting out the breath in a loud hum. He is so tired. 

A light flickers. He squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, letting his hands fall back to the ground again. 

He starts to drift. It’s a calm feeling. Distorted colors begin to dance across the backs of his eyelids. Warm purples and reds, then browns and greens. Shapes begin to form, too. The outline of a person, a building, a piano. 

Simon is there, suddenly, in his mind. He looks different, though. Older. He smiles at Wille then grabs his hand, pulling him through a book shop. Wille feels warm and happy. They’ve been here before, this is a favorite place of theirs. Simon wants to see if they have a new book in stock. They’ve just come from breakfast together. They are happy.

The image flickers. 

Simon is still there, but different again. He looks down at Wille from a stage, though he doesn’t know Wille, yet. Wille doesn’t know him either, just likes his music, but wants to know more. They find each other after the concert. Simon is flirty and forward and they quickly fall into each other. 

That Simon disappears, too, then changes into another. 

This Simon is younger, much younger, as is Wille. They’re both five and playing in a park. Wille tumbles off the slide and Simon offers a hand to help him up. They spend the rest of the day playing together, chasing each other around the playground and laughing until Wille’s mother pulls him away. 

Now, Simon looks across a table at Wille with teary eyes, boxes scattered around them. He whispers, I’m sorry, and sounds so broken and Wille wants to jump across the table at him, to beg him to stay, but he can’t. They had their time together and it was good and worth it, but it just couldn’t work anymore. 

Another Simon. Another Wille. This time, they meet in a foreign city. Simon is singing karaoke with friends at a random dive bar. Though he doesn’t normally do this – at least, this Wille doesn’t – he offers to buy Simon a drink, taken by his beautiful voice. They stumble back to Wille’s hotel together, laughing and yelling into the dark and empty streets. 

Wille blinks and he sees a football field at midnight. No, no, that’s not right. He shuts his eyes again. 

They are standing on a beach together, now. Simon has a small band on his ring finger and so does Wille. They are happy. The sand is warm and so is Simon’s hand in his. With a smile as bright as the sun, his husband turns to him and whispers, I love you. Wille presses a kiss into Simon’s forehead. And I love you.

A dozen more images shift across Wille’s mind, too fast to soak them in fully, but long enough to see Simon and to know how right it feels. Every place, every time, they find their way to each other. No matter what, no matter how they find each other, even if only for a short time. They are bound together; he feels the searing mark of it in his heart, hears the word soulmate whispered in his ear. But, too quickly, he feels Simon slipping away, all the little versions of him falling through Wille’s fingers even as he scrambles to keep hold. Grief and pain and confusion are already seeping back into his chest, and he wants to scream in frustration. 

Then Wille remembers, distantly, Simon doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know they’re meant to be together. He doesn’t know how right it is, how real it is. The realest thing Wille’s ever had.

Blindly, movements still slurred and choppy, joints tight from the cold, he reaches for his phone. The number is there, easily, his fingers typing it already before he can even think about it. 

“Hello?”

“Simon.”

[random-xpressions]

To reduce the idea of soulmate to an individual is such a limiting belief. This universe and every atom in it has been an eternal lover of yours ever since the beginning of time. It has been plotting all this while to finally bring you out in the shape and form you are today. The moon kept a watch over you while you were still a toddler sucking milk from your mother's breast. The clouds sheltered you while you were playing around in the streets as a kid. The stars were there to hear your heart's silent grievances when you were growing up as an adolescent. Perhaps the tree in your neighborhood may be missing you on the days you have fallen sick and you are on your bed rest. Our misery too is in this unfortunate truth that we deposit all our expectations on a single human being, too frail to manage their own life perfectly, what do you expect? There are flowers blooming in the backyard with whom you could undertake another exciting conversation. There are angels with you day and night keeping your guard with whom you could limitlessly engage. The walls in your room too can hear and see, nothing around you is not without life. I see the entire universe around me for a tremendous potential partnership. I'd never just limit the idea of companionship with a human soul. Every atom in this existence is vibrating with a soul. Without the spirit, the matter cannot exist!

Random Xpressions

[spectralsleuth]

Don't know if you're still accepting asks about LSoW, but you mentioned once that all of the turtles in your au are intersex, except Mikey. Can I ask why you made them so and why Mikey is the exception?

I'm always accepting asks about LSoW! :D I'm not the best about answering them because I have crippling anxiety, but I love getting asks. ;-;

Disclaimer first: Genuinely no disrespect to any intersex people, because chromosomal differences and IRL intersex conditions have near next nothing to do with (I cannot exaggerate this enough) TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, the depiction of the Turtles in LSoW, or honestly, half the AU's with the same sort of headcanon. So keep that in mind. I strongly encourage people to do some research into actual intersex people and characteristics, because it isn't my intention at all to represent very normal people with (STILL CANNOT EXAGGERATE THIS ENOUGH) TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES. (Although if there IS an intersex person who reads LSoW and is like, hell yeah ninja turtles are just like me, more power to you brother. I wrote it for you and you only, I am kissing you gently on the head like a benevolent patron.)

That being said, 'intersex' was the best term I could come up with for this head canon, and fits so.

Reason 1: It's funny.

I am making Leonardo ninja turtle deal with turtle equivalent of periods, that is the funniest shit I will ever do. The idea that A: Raph dealt with it first, B: Leo was a smug shithead about it and then dealt with it a year after, and then C: Donnie was SMUGGER THAN HIM, and also dealt with it the NEXT WEEK? Hilarious. I am a comedy god.

Also I think I headcanoned Raph as having CJ with Casey a long time ago because Casey and Raph are soulmates in every universe. But problem is I headcanon Casey as TRANS, so how did they have Casey? Adoption is also great, but you know what would be FUNNIER-

(egg babey)

Reason 2: Mikey's personality. (Also, it's funny again.)

When Draxum was making the turtles in LSoW, he gave them all the bits and pieces he needed in order to make them effective yokai super soldiers. Man literally said 'I'm making a turtle that can hold a sword and do backflips, I'm gonna give it all this other stuff too, OBVIOUSLY.' But box turtles are already pretty territorial and aggressive? I think the reason I gave at the time was Draxum literally said, 'Michelangelo is already so territorial if I gave him estrogen he'd have killed the others.' (Which is a gross oversimplification of how turtles split gender in the egg, herpetologists pls don't @ me they're ninja turtles I am sorry.)

Also it's funny again because Mikey is also smug down the chain of brothers from oldest to youngest with not having to deal with this embarrassing problem, but then DOESN'T get whacked with the egg whammy stick like the others?? Smug youngest sibling?? Mikey asking Leo with fake sympathy, 'Oh, is it your troubles again?' and Leo is forced to try and kill him with a rock.

Reason 3: Draxum (Also STILL YET ANOTHER reason to be funny.)

Draxum figures in the far off distant future if his supersoldiers DO make nests and eggs, a very territorial and family oriented guard that DOESN'T nest would be super effective.

Imagine the post apocalypse future where Raph and Casey have CJ, and you are a simple resistance soldier. You are minding your business surveying Krang tunnels after a delicious breakfast of beetle protein bar shaped into dino-nuggie form courtesy of Donatello Hamato, and Mystic Master Michelangelo appears out of the shadows in a side tunnel and tries to skin you with a fork because you got within a half mile of his expecting brother and his ninja girl friend.

(The only Y/N fic I will ever write.)

I hope that answers the question!! Also reminder to everyone that even though I am taking a little break from TMNT, my fics are far from abandoned and I have them cooking along in the background. Most of the writing I get done is in spite of horrible unmedicated ADHD, anxiety, and being 30 years old with a very tiring job and increasingly troubling disability. That's not me complaining, but I think a little reminder that a lot of fic writers do this as a hobby. The second I feel the slightest bit of pressure I crumble away from fics like I've been cursed by a mummy, because feeling pressure from something so silly is wild to me.

This ask actually I think is a perfect way to show how to support your fave fic authors, and encourage them to continue writing! I actually had to sit down and think about my own notes, and talk over my reasoning with The Council in dm's (@/tangledinink and @/heck lol). So thanks!

[isthoughts]

Canon Regulus Black wouldn't have best friends. He would be too scared, and hurt to actually let himself share whatever pieces of humanity he had left.

Pandora and him would understand each other and in those other universes, they are platonic soulmates, but in canon I believe Regulus wouldn't let himself explore that bond. Any bond for that matter. He would cut off anyone who would get too close.

He would have awful trust issues, even before Sirius left. And his and Sirius' relationship would rot way before that. They would love each other desperately, but despise each other for being what they were. And they would both truly believe that the other had nothing but hate for them. Walburga would have a lot to do with that. But some pieces would be theirs, and they would still never find their ways back to each other.

Regulus would only trust Kreacher, because Kreacher had to stay silent if Regulus would order it, and Kreacher would already know everything about Regulus.

Canon Regulus would be so, so lonely. He could be around Barty and Evan, but he would never fully trust them. Doesn't matter if they would deserve the trust or not, Regulus wouldn't be able to do it. He would feel like anyone could betray him. He would be paranoid, tired and alone.

The biggest difference between canon Regulus and Sirius would be their suport systems. Sirius having Andromeda and later the marauders would be the thing that made him turn from his family, find his own way. So Walburga would make sure, that Regulus would never have that. She would never let anyone too close to her second son. She would teach him awful lessons about the consequences of trusting different people. She would hurt him too, but then she would comb through his hair and tell him that it was his fault for being too close to a certain person. And after enough "lessons" Regulus would believe her.

Walburga's violence towards Sirius would be mainly physical. Punishments. And after she would realise they weren't doing much she would use him to learn what worked and what didn't to make Regulus the perfect son. The way she abused Regulus was less visible, and would make Sirius resent him more for never being treated that way. (Which I want to emphasise is a normal thing. Many older sibling feel some sort of resentment when they realise how worse their parents treated them compared to their younger sibling/s. I'm in no way, shape or form throwing shade at Sirius, he deserves all the love he can get, I love him so much, it's just a Regulus focused post.)

Regulus would learn to do what was expected of him, without questioning it. He would feel too hollow to even consider how his actions might affect him or other people. He would be too dead inside. Just wishing all of it would be over.

Because of Walburga, Regulus would grow more and more paranoid and anxious about his every step. He would isolate himself as much as possible. The only loyalty he would have would be to his family, because only his family would hold his hand after he was tortured. Or should I say Kreacher. That would be Walburga's mistake. Making their house elf the one to usually take care of Regulus, after she would be done "teaching" him. That would be why Regulus had loyalty to him too.

Canon Regulus would die lonely, the same way he would live most of his life, and he wouldn't feel that much of a difference between living and dying. He would just want it to end.

I don't think canon Regulus' last thought would be of Sirius, Kreacher, or even his mother. I think he would just wait for it to be over.

Always waiting for it to be over.

And it never would be. Regulus ended up as an inferni after all.