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reasonsforhope · 11 months ago

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"Chicago’s 82-story Aqua Tower appears to flutter with the wind. Its unusual, undulating facade has made it one of the most unique features of Chicago’s skyline, distinct from the many right-angled glass towers that surround it.

In designing it, the architect Jeanne Gang thought not only about how humans would see it, dancing against the sky, but also how it would look to the birds who fly past. The irregularity of the building’s face allows birds to see it more clearly and avoid fatal collisions. “It’s kind of designed to work for both humans and birds,” she said.

As many as 1 billion birds in the US die in building collisions each year. And Chicago, which sits along the Mississippi Flyway, one of the four major north-south migration routes, is among the riskiest places for birds. This year, at least 1,000 birds died in one day from colliding with a single glass-covered building. In New York, which lies along the Atlantic Flyway, hundreds of species traverse the skyline and tens of thousands die each year.

As awareness grows of the dangers posed by glistening towers and bright lights, architects are starting to reimagine city skylines to design buildings that are both aesthetically daring and bird-safe.

Pictured: Chicago's Aqua Tower was designed with birds in mind.

Some are experimenting with new types of patterned or coated glass that birds can see. Others are rethinking glass towers entirely, experimenting with exteriors that use wood, concrete or steel rods. Blurring lines between the indoors and outdoors, some architects are creating green roofs and facades, inviting birds to nest within the building.

“Many people think about bird-friendly design as yet another limitation on buildings, yet another requirement,” said Dan Piselli, director of sustainability at the New York-based architecture firm FXCollaborative. “But there are so many design-forward buildings that perfectly exemplify that this doesn’t have to limit your design, your freedom.”

How modern buildings put birds in danger

For Deborah Laurel, principal in the firm Prendergast Laurel Architects, the realization came a couple of decades ago. She was up for an award for her firm’s renovation of the Staten Island Children’s Museum when the museum’s director mentioned to her that a number of birds had been crashing into the new addition. “I was horrified,” she said.

She embarked on a frenzy of research to learn more about bird collisions. After several years of investigation, she found there was little in the way of practical tips for architects, and she teamed up with the conservation group NYC Audubon, to develop a bird-safe building guide.

The issue, she discovered, was that technological and architectural advancements over the last half-century had in some ways transformed New York City – and most other US skylines and suburbs – into death traps for birds...

At certain times of day, tall glass towers almost blend into the sky. At other times, windows appear so pristinely clear that they are imperceptible to birds, who might try to fly though them. During the day, trees and greenery reflected on shiny building facades can trick birds, whereas at night, brightly lit buildings can confuse and bewilder them...

Pictured: A green roof on the Javits Convention Center serves as a sanctuary for birds.

The changes that could save avian lives

About a decade ago, Piselli’s firm worked on a half-billion-dollar renovation of New York’s Jacob K Javits Convention Center, a gleaming glass-clad space frame structure that was killing 4,000-5,000 birds a year. “The building was this black Death Star in the urban landscape,” Piselli said.

To make it more bird friendly, FXCollaborative (which was then called FXFowle) reduced the amount of glass and replaced the rest of it with fritted glass, which has a ceramic pattern baked into it. Tiny, textured dots on the glass are barely perceptible to people – but birds can see them. The fritted glass can also help reduce heat from the sun, keeping the building cooler and lowering air conditioning costs. “This became kind of the poster child for bird-friendly design in the last decade,” Piselli said.

The renovation also included a green roof, monitored by the NYC Audubon. The roof now serves as a sanctuary for several species of birds, including a colony of herring gulls. Living roofs have since become popular in New York and other major cities, in an inversion of the decades-long practice of fortifying buildings with anti-bird spikes. In the Netherlands, the facade of the World Wildlife Fund headquarters, a futuristic structure that looks like an undulating blob of mercury, contains nest boxes and spaces for birds and bats to live.

The use of fritted glass has also become more common as a way to save the birds and energy.

Earlier this year, Azadeh Omidfar Sawyer, an assistant professor in building technology in the Carnegie Mellon School of Architecture, working with student researchers, used open-source software to help designers create bespoke, bird-friendly glass patterns. A book of 50 patterns that Sawyer published recently includes intricate geometric lattices and abstract arrays of lines and blobs. “Any architect can pick up this book and choose a pattern they like, or they can customize it,” she said.

Pictured: The fritted glass used in Studio Gang’s expansion of Kresge College at the University of California, Santa Cruz, depicts the animals in the local ecosystem.

Builders have also been experimenting with UV-printed patterns, which are invisible to humans but perceptible to most birds. At night, conservationists and architects are encouraging buildings turn off lights, especially during migration season, when the bright glow of a city skyline can disorient birds.

And architects are increasingly integrating screens or grates that provide shade as well as visibility for birds. The 52-floor New York Times building, for example, uses fritted glass clad with ceramic rods. The spacing between the rods increases toward the top of the building, to give the impression that the building is dissolving into the sky.

Gang’s work has incorporated structures that can also serve as blinds for birders, or perches from which to observe nature. A theater she designed in Glencoe, Illinois, for example, is surrounded by a walking path made of a wood lattice, where visitors can feel like they’re up in the canopy of trees.

Pictured: The Writers Theatre, designed by Studio Gang, includes a walking path encased in wood lattice.

Rejecting the idea of the iridescent, entirely mirrored-glass building, “where you can’t tell the difference between the habitat and the sky”, Gang aims for the opposite. “I always tried to make the buildings more visible with light and shadow and geometry, to have more of a solid presence,” she said.

Gang has been experimenting with adding bird feeders around her own home in an effort to reduce collisions with windows, and she encourages other homeowners to do the same.

“I’ve found that birds slow down and stop at feeders instead of trying to fly through the glass,” she said.

While high-rise buildings and massive urban projects receive the most attention, homes and low-rise buildings account for most bird collision deaths. “The huge challenge is that glass is everywhere.” said Christine Sheppard, who directs the glass collisions program at the American Bird Conservancy (ABC). “It’s hard to know what I know and not cringe when I look at it.”

Tips for improving your own home include using stained glass or patterned decals that can help birds see a window, she said. ABC has compiled a list of window treatments and materials, ranked by how bird-safe they are.

Whether they’re large or small, the challenge of designing buildings that are safe for birds can be “liberating”, said Gang, who has become an avid birdwatcher and now carries a pair of binoculars on her morning jogs. “It gives you another dimension to try to imagine.”"

-via The Guardian, December 27, 2023

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slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Eight--Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Rough Sex, Slapping (for sexual titillation), Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, GUNPLAY, Outdoor Sex, Gagging, Choking, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTTTT!!!!! GET THE TISSUES OUT!

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

In the aftermath of your heartfelt confession, the ambiance shifted beneath the curtain of rain. Mattheo's initial warmth, which had enveloped the moment, began to withdraw, slowly being replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.

Tension, thick and tangible, emanated from him, as if he yearned to retract, to voice a refusal. The gaze that had once been soft, akin to melted chocolate, now bore a stark reluctance. It was as though the vulnerability you had glimpsed moments earlier had transformed into a protective shield, guarding him against the intensity of the unexpected revelation.

Undeterred, you pressed forward, defying the cooling atmosphere with a resolute step. Your hands, a gentle insistence against the encroaching frost, found their place on his face. Amidst the rhythmic percussion of springtime raindrops, your eyes held an unbroken contact, mirroring the pounding cadence of your heart. A silent gaze held him in place, allowing the weight of your words to permeate the space before you spoke again.

"Don't say anything," you whispered, the words borne on the breath of the rain-soaked air, a plea to let the unspoken emotions settle in the delicate stillness between you two. "You've said so much, Mattheo...you've shared so much with me...I don't need you to say another word...just...just listen,"

Mattheo blinked, the subtle motion accompanied by the quiet working of his throat as he swallowed. His hands, hanging at his sides, remained still as yours maintained their firm grasp on his face. An almost imperceptible nod from him prompted you to inhale sharply, capturing the breath in your lungs.

"Perhaps I lied to you..." you began, your voice soft, tender. "Perhaps I wasn't being truthful when I said I never believed in destiny...because in a way, I do...but I also believe that we are only destined to do the things we'd choose to do anyway..."

A pause ensued as you studied his countenance, your gaze tracing the scars on his skin and taking note of his perfect imperfections that shaped the essence of who he is.

"And I'd choose you, Mattheo...in a hundred fucking lifetimes, in a hundred different realities, I would choose you...every fucking time..." you declared, your grip on him intensifying. Your hands trembled, mirroring the tremor in your voice. "I don't care about your history, I don't care about any of the bad things you've done...everything you've been through has made you who you are...and I am fucking in love with who you are...every single part of you...your smart mouth, your cheeky smirk, every line and every scar..."

Drawing him nearer, you gently guided him until his forehead found solace against yours. His hands discovered the curve of your waist, pulling you into an embrace that emanated urgency, a profound need to absorb every syllable you uttered, each word a testament to the depth of emotions shared between you.

"Your skin, absent of its scars, would be like a sky without stars," you murmured, your shared breaths blending in the intimate proximity. "I didn't fall in love with you; I fucking walked into love with you--with my eyes wide open, deliberately choosing every step along the way. Everything you've revealed changes nothing, Matty...I love you, utterly and unequivocally."

A profound silence enveloped the space, and time seemed to elongate into a suspended realm, each passing moment an eternity. His eyes, a tumultuous storm of unexpressed feelings, gently fluttered closed, his lips parting as his breaths, once steady, now took on a rhythm almost akin to panting--a visceral manifestation of the emotions swirling within.

His hands, deliberate in their motion, traversed the landscape of your back, ascending with a sense of purpose. As they reached your head, his fingers, fueled by a desperate urgency, found purchase, gripping your face with a fervor that spoke volumes. In this charged atmosphere, his eyes, concealed behind closed lids, hinted at the vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior. The suspended moment begged for release, aching for the words that lingered on the precipice.

"Say it again..." his murmured request, laden with longing, reverberated through the charged air. "I just-"

"I love you," you said, the words firmer this time, your hands threading behind his head, fingers entwining in his soaked hair. "I love you..."

His jaw tensed, and he released a shaky breath--his eyelids fluttering, the grip on your skull tightening. "Again."

"I love you," you repeated, your voice gaining strength, fingers digging into his scalp as though you could force the words through. "I fucking love you, Mattheo Riddle."

Breaths intermingled, and your grips on each other surpassed the hold of any chains or restraints. In the pulsating intensity, your minds spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was there a sweeter arrangement than this? He gets to ask you, over and over to repeat it--while you get to tell him, over and over, that you mean it.

Your nails dug into his scalp, foreheads pressing together with an almost painful force. "I thought it would be impossible to ever find someone...to ever be with someone, when beneath my surface of composure, I'm scattered in a million different pieces--like a puzzle with missing parts..." you paused, lips softly grazing his. "But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful...something real...that love can exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken people."

A guttural noise escaped him, resonating low in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, cradling your head.

You inhaled a shallow breath before you continued, "and I promise you, my love will be just as strong, just as beautiful, whether you, too, are in a thousand pieces, or just one.”

Mattheo, completely struck silent, locked eyes with your parted lips. In perfect synchrony, your gaze met his, and in that silent exchange, there was a mere gasp of air before his mouth was on yours. The passion between your bodies ignited into an unbridled inferno, refusing any attempt at restraint. His kiss was a slippery bruise, melding madness at your skin, tongue driving into you while he inhaled through his nose. You met him, movement for movement, groaning against him, fingers folding further into his hair, thumbs tracing the tops of his ears, and he groaned against your lips before capturing them again,

The kiss was unlike any before--a fervent blaze spiraling out of control, unwilling to be subdued for even a moment longer. His lips met yours with an intensity that felt almost primal; a hungry, desperate fusion of raw emotion and longing. His hands cradled your head with a force that hinted at an uncontainable desire, making you wonder if he sought to meld your very essence. The cool droplets of rain cascaded around you, soaking your skin to the bone, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

"I need you, princess..." he whispered, parting from the kiss, his hands gliding down your back as his lips found the curve of your neck. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Pretty girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered in response, fingers tightly grasping his hair, a desperate grip that mirrored the intensity of his kisses trailing down your neck. Your lip found refuge between your teeth as his mouth explored the path of rain cascading along your skin.

"My tainted little angel," he murmured, his words a provocative caress against your ear. "Crushingly beautiful...tender like a bruise..."

His hands, firm and insistent, sought the curves of your hips, fingers grasping at the wet fabric of your dress, tugging it upwards along your thighs. "You were the first sin actually worth hurting for...had me wrapped around your little finger before you even fucking touched me..."

You throbbed, a full-body pulse, humming into him with a shudder, Mattheo's lips moved back to yours, nipping at your lower lip before sliding to your chin, following the streams on your skin as he pressed clumsy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, falling to suck and nibble at your heartbeat. Whimpering, you nuzzled your head into his, and he responded with a sharp bite to your neck, barely-restrained, earning a squeal from your throat.

"I told myself I was fine...that I was better off alone...never needed anyone, never wanted anyone...but then you came around, and after all this fucking time, after everything I put you through...it's still you, it's you who fucking believes in me..." he murmured against your skin. “You mean so fucking much to me…and when I finally admitted to that myself, when I finally let myself feel…you made me better, and I don't mean from being my tutor...you just made me want to be better...fuck, Raven...I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at the stars...I wanted to get better grades for you…I quit drinking and drugs because I wanted to be a better man for you..."

As he lifted your dress beyond your hips, your hands eagerly joined the movement, gathering the fabric's hem and peeling it over your head. His eyes traversed over every inch of newly exposed flesh, absorbing the sight with an intensity that spoke volumes. You observed as he swiftly shed his suit jacket, stripping the soaked fabric from his frame and laying it on the ground. His hands deftly moved to undo his belt, discarding his gun in the process. Returning a firm grip on your hips, he crashed his mouth back to yours, a relentless hunger igniting the kiss.

Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until you were both on the ground; him on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.

"I’ve had some, then most of you...all, and then none of you..." a soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection, covered only by the thin fabric of his boxers. "I-I can't lose you again...it's you...it's fucking always been you..."

"Oh, Gods..." your voice cracked, emotion bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill out as you rolled your hips against him. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. "You won't...you fucking can't..."

Rain bathed you both, rivers roaming over your curves, white cloth of your bra a dewy illusion over your breasts. His thumbs skimmed your nipples with prickles of pleasure, and you moaned, head falling back on your shoulders. As if the sound awakened something inside him, he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you around until you were on your back beneath him, lips instantly moving to your neck, sucking at your throat.

You slid your hands under his shirt, savoring the firm contours of his body. He tensed, a low groan escaping into the intimate space between you, while his hips pressed against you with a force that seemed intent on melding you with the forest floor. Your fingertips traced the hard muscles, memorizing the damp, heated feel of his skin. In his voracious pursuit, he exhibited no restraint, extracting painful hickeys from the pulse at your neck.

The heat of desire surged between your thighs, and he moved lower, marking you with unrestrained passion. Tissue yielded to the pressure of his teeth, welts blooming under the fervent touch of his lips. Anxiety flickered through your mind as visible evidence of his ardor emerged, but the soft groan escaping his chest erased any concerns. Your back arched, willingly offering more of your untamed flesh to his insistent exploration. Grateful, he bit at the swell of your tits, crimson crescents blooming, and his hands moved to your underwear as he laved at your nipple through your bra, scraping it with his teeth through the fabric.

Mattheo fumbled at your folds, two thick fingers peeling you open, assessing your slickness, teasing your entrance. "Still so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, clucking his tongue. "And in the middle of the fucking forest...you'd take my cock anywhere I wanted, hm?"

You bit your lip, trying to grind against his hand. "What can I say...watching you use that gun did something to me..."

"Naughty, naughty girl..." he leaned to your ear, thumb skating your clit--you gasped. "Weren't you ever told to stay away from the asshole, weapon wielding bad boys?"

"Perhaps," you hissed through a moan as Mattheo pushed two fingers inside you--your walls tightening around him, hips twitching, head lolling against his soaked jacket. "Though I've never been good at following orders."

Mattheo huffed. "I'd say."

His mouth consumed you with a fervor, tracing a path of rich violet marks from your chin down to your clavicle, his spit mingling with the rain. Scissoring you open, he rolled your stiff clit, rocking his wrist, curling and working your walls, his other hand palming at his erection in an attempt to pacify himself. You bucked your hips, a shivering moan escaping, and he cursed, slamming in to the knuckle.

"If I fuck you now," he muttered at your jawline, "you'll have to take all of me. Everything I give you." He bit your neck, hard, forcing a cry from your lips. "I won't be able to control myself."

Heat scorched you, and you pulsed around him in anticipation, his fingers crooking in your wet core. Thunder grumbled in the distance. "Thought I'd long proved my capability."

Mattheo purred, and bit you again, pain shooting through you. "Earlier doesn't count, we were rushing...I need to wreck this tight little cunt...I'll fuck you harder and deeper than any of those assholes could ever fucking dream of..."

You shuddered, meeting his eyes. "Do your worst."

Snarling, he leaned back onto his knees, tore his fingers from your core and stuffed them in your mouth; you whinged in surprise, working to suckle them clean. Mattheo's free hand unleashed his dick, twitching eagerly despite its thick, heavy length. He jammed his hand to the back of your throat, and you gagged before he depressed your tongue, prying open your jaw.

"You know how this works." His gaze locked onto you, and the sky seemed to ignite with lightning around him. "Beg for it."

When he released you, you gasped into the rain. "Please, fuck me."

In the blink of an eye, his hand struck you, unleashing a spray of saliva from your parted lips. "That was pathetic," he snickered. "I fucking said beg."

Your face burned--humiliation, shock, and most importantly: desire. If this is what he meant, you wanted more. "Why don't you fucking make me?"

"There's that dirty mouth..." Mattheo smirked, shifting as he reached for his gun, gripping it with his free hand while the other stroked his cock. Before you could process it, he brought the barrel toward your temple, pressing the cold, wet metal against your skull. "Last fucking chance, princess...if you don't beg for my cock I'll fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy instead."

A whirlwind of shame and yearning left your head spinning, the likely instigators of your brief lapse into temporary insanity. "I'm not scared of you, Riddle..."

“Oh, princess.” His smirk grew. "You should be."

Adjusting the gun, he compelled the barrel past your lips, the icy metal coating your tongue. His other hand delved into your hair, gripping your soaked strands tightly as he forcefully drove the gun deeper into your throat. Then, without warning, he broke you open, splitting your core with a deep, harsh thrust, head slamming your cervix. You cried out against the weapon, body recoiling in pain, hands moving to his hips, and he shook you in reprimand.

"Oh, no--don't fucking bother." He drove his palm into your head, his nails scratching your scalp. "No running. Take it."

Mattheo pulled out fully before ramming back into you, spearing you with his cock, your body quaking with the force of each of his violent thrusts. His breath was already ragged, furious groans pushed from his chest as he fucked deep into you. Your lungs were empty, failing to find oxygen in his onslaught, your walls squeezing his length in delight, drool spilling down your chin and mingling with the flow of rain.

"Fuck--such an insatiable little cunt..." he growled, his eyes drilling into yours, taunting you through his gaze. "It missed this cock already, didn't it?"

Another deep thrust, meeting your cervix, and you winced, groaning against the gun as you tried to nod.

"That's right...shit..." he pulled the gun from your mouth, strings of drool hanging like garland from the barrel, quickly being washed away with the rain. "My girl...my fucking beautiful, filthy girl..."

He tossed it onto the ground next to your head, drawing his hand down toward your belly, slick fingers rubbing merciless circles on the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his pistoning hips--you wailed, drooling with pleasure, assaulted with a sudden, immediate need to orgasm.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight when you're about to cum..." he groaned, punishing your pussy with hard, rapid thrusts. "Prove you can take it. Cum on this cock."

Between the attention on your clit and the size of his dick, you snapped, convulsing and trembling while your blood flooded with flames, blazing heat through your thighs and to your toes. Above you, Mattheo hissed, fucking you through it, valiantly holding off his own orgasm as yours fizzed at your flesh. When your core's pulsing slowed, he shifted, propping your calves up his shoulders before he leaned forward and clamped his palm down on your neck.

"Don't squirm, baby..." his low voice commanded, and as you whimpered, squirming beneath him, his grin deepened. His eyes, now wild and intoxicated with desire, held a promise. "I gave you fair warning."

His free hand pinched your cheeks, slowly sliding out before slamming back in and pounding your cunt, growling breath leaking from his lungs, his hold on your throat tightening. The pressure in your head only doubled the frenzy of being fucked--you wheezed, your pulse thumping in your temples, and this spurred him on, drilling you with a depraved stare as he plowed into your tight pussy again and again and again.

The rain was steam on your skin, thunder a distant noise behind the sound of slapping skin and your strangled, whimpering moans. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his throbbing dick, sore clit twitching once more with a growing demand to be sated--Mattheo grunted, tugging you closer, eyes drilling into yours.

"Open that filthy mouth."

Wincing, you complied, parting your lips as he commanded. Without hesitation, he leaned down and spat into it.

"Now swallow it. Show me."

With determination etched on your face, you managed to comply against the pressure of his massive hand. Popping your jaw apart with a grimace, you showcased your resilience, earning a smirk from him. In response, he rewarded you with a series of both painful and blissful strokes of his hips, pushing your body to its absolute limit. Your breath had vanished ages ago, your heart now a wild entity, coursing through your veins.

"Poor baby," he sneered, feign sincerity in his tone. "I think you need to cum again."

He snaked his free hand between your legs, rolling your aching clit, and you groaned--or tried to, anyway--the speed of your pulse resonating through the grip on your neck. He felt it, too, head bowing in pleasured shock as you thrummed around him, your oncoming climax massaging his thick cock with every new thrust.

"Fuck." Resolute, he rubbed you faster, watching you--in his gaze, you saw nothing but an endless, dark void of lust. "Who do you fucking belong to?"

The words barely made it out. "Y-you, Mattheo..."

His choke tightened, and your vision blurred. "Who owns this tight little pussy?"

"You--you do, Mattheo..." you gasped.

"That's right," he sneered, and swirled your nub so quickly you squealed. "Cum for me, princess..."

The force of your orgasm surged through you, blurring your vision, and you screamed, choked by his hand as every muscle below your waist convulsed in a rapturous ecstasy. Your pussy milked and squeezed his cock, but he resisted his own climax once more, sinking into you until you descended. He drank in the sight of you--eyes rolled, raindrops scattered like diamonds on your skin, your throat and chest smothered with the evidence of his possession.

"Good fucking girl...take me...take all of me," he muttered, voice low and deep in the night air. "Every single fucking inch."

Mattheo shifted again, one arm coiling under you to fist your hair, the other cranking your leg back until your knee hit your chest. Groaning with pleasure, he hammered into you, stretching you wide, filling you to the base. Soaked strands of his hair slid into his eyes, and he tossed them back, wetting his lips and fucking you deep, trapping you in his feral gaze.

"You love me." He tilted your head back with a deliberate motion. "You fucking love me."

You nodded, not a shred of hesitation. "Yes-fuck! I do!"

He swallowed, inching closer, his forehead tenderly meeting yours. "After all of it," he whispered, the words almost lost in the shared breath, "after everything..."

Your chin quivered, and the revelation about his parents cut into your heart, a painful echo of his turbulent past. It hurt, yes, but it also felt like the a groundbreaking revelation, the ending to the story which finally explained why he was the way he was. There was an undeniable understanding that surged between your hearts, a silent recognition that both of you needed love in ways only the other could provide.

Despite the turmoil, you couldn't blame him for something so deeply rooted. The man craved love as desperately as you did, neither of you ever willing to admit it. In the synergy of your souls, there existed an undeniable connection, a perfect harmony that transcended spoken words. Even in the hushed language of silence, your hearts resonated, acknowledging that there would never be two souls more perfectly suited for each other than yours.

"After everything." You wrapped your arms around him, safe when lightning crashed, rocking your hips in his pace. "No matter what."

"Fuck." He wound your hair in his fist, and wrenched your head back, tearing at your throat with his teeth, harsh thrusts pulverizing your cunt. "...I'm--fuck--I'm going to make you break again." His hand left your leg, long fingers back to stroking your tender clit. "And then I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

Senses barraged, you shrieked, overwhelmed and oversensitive. He wasn't fucking joking. You wanted mercy. "Fuck! Mattheo! Please-please-"

"No. Take it," he snarled into your ear. "Take it."

He assailed your nub, and you quailed, curling around him like a snake, shaking from the overwhelming intensity of his power, lids shut while he nipped your neck, demolished your pussy, panted hard into your ear.

"You're mine." He growled, his voice shredded raw with lust. "Mine."

"I'm yours!" You shrieked, nails digging crescents into his back. "Yours."

"Fuck-" he hissed, slamming harder, deeper. "Mine! All fucking mine..."

"Yours! Fuck!" It was all too much, too great, brain crashing into a wanton mess. "All fucking yours!"

Your body convulsed, teeth sinking into your lip, propelled through a realm of heightened sensitivity into an ecstasy that seared your skin. Gasps and incoherent pleas spilled from your lips, a desperate supplication for release, for him to unleash the crescendo that would send you soaring and screaming and cumming.

"That's it," Mattheo growled, pumping into you, folding you into his frame. "You're taking me so fucking well baby, just one more...cum for me, angel."

Your senses fractured, caught between euphoria and disbelief, and your body spasmed, climax radiating through your every fiber, a luminous burst that shattered any remnants of sanity, setting Mattheo ablaze in its wake. He groaned, grunted, burying himself to the hilt, warm cock pulsing as he poured hot cum deep into your cunt. For a moment, he didn't move, silently working to catch his breath before he pulled back, shifting onto his knees.

You fixated on him, your head weighed down, struggling to fathom the endearment he had bestowed upon you--silently endeavouring to etch every detail of this encounter into the recesses of your memory. A contented sigh escaped you, accompanied by a smile that radiated the joy swelling within your chest.

However, as you gazed at him, basking in the warmth of affection twinkling in his eyes, you noticed a flicker of something else--an abrupt shift. His thumb grazed your chin absentmindedly before he moved, working to tuck himself away. You mirrored his actions, attempting to salvage what was left of your clothing, now thoroughly drenched by the relentless rain.

Walking through the forest on your way back to the castle, the shadows of the trees played in the puddle-soaked ground, creating a surreal dance around you. Mattheo extended his hand, a silent invitation you willingly accepted. The brief connection sent a comforting warmth through you, grounding you amidst the uncertainty.

As you navigated the path, thoughts swirled like the mist around you. The night's events echoed in your mind, and a cloud of questions veiled the clarity you sought. Contemplating a potential job at the castle, you wondered about its impact on your newfound bond with Mattheo. Did you still harbour the same enthusiasm for the job amid these compelling complexities? The walk became a journey through both the tangible forest and the intricate maze of your thoughts, navigating the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Approaching the castle, the distant melody of music embraced the night air, whispering promises of celebration within. Capturing the tune, Mattheo halted abruptly, pivoting to face you as the two of you lingered just outside the castle walls, hidden by the shadows of the night.

Your brows furrowed inquisitively as you locked eyes with him, seeking to understand the meaning behind this sudden pause. "What are you-"

"Shh." He cooed, eyes darting around.

After a brief survey of the surroundings, he fixed his eyes back on you with a newfound emotion swirling within them. Without another word, Mattheo enveloped you in a tender embrace, guiding your arms to rest on his neck as his firm hands settled on your hips. Bathed in the gentle glow of castle lights, he initiated a graceful sway to the rhythm of a slow, melodic tune that harmonized seamlessly with the rain-soaked ambiance.

In the suspended moment, your gaze locked with his, the world around you blurred as the rain continued its gentle descent, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the springtime storm. It felt perfect, a clandestine world of your own, away from the prying eyes of others.

"All those people think love's for show..." Mattheo blinked, drawing his face closer. "But I'd fucking die for you in secret."

Your breath hitched, water welling in your eyes. You quickly blinked it away, searching his face, mapping it, along with everything else from this night into memory.

"How'd I get so lucky..." you tightened your hold on him, the raindrops adding a gentle percussion to the soundtrack of the moment. "A sky full of stars, and yet you're staring at me..."

"There's no need," he murmured, directing your head to lay against his chest. "Avere lei è come avere le stelle."

Your heart leapt. "How did you-"

"Notts been teaching me," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, the pride in his tone. "You know what I said, don't you?"

You blushed, unable to stifle your grin. "I do."

He hummed. "Tell me."

"No," you whispered, fingers digging into his neck as you shifted your head to look up at him. "I'd like to hear you say it."

His smirk grew, and he peered down at you. "To have her, is to have the stars."

“Mm,” you glimpsed his mouth, brushing your lips against his as you murmured, "E averlo, è come avere la luna." (And to have him, is to have the moon.)

His smirk blossomed into a radiant smile as he gripped your face, drawing you into a profound, messy, deep kiss. Every fiber of your being quivered under the intense surge of emotions you felt for this man--love enveloping you entirely, and whether or not he uttered the words, you could sense it--right now, ten minutes ago, and every moment in between.

All you wanted, more than anything, was that he’d hold you tight, and whisper that you’d find a way to be together. But then, his hands fell from your face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you back into him. With his lips pressed to your forehead, he whispered,

“I’ve never loved anything, Raven…anyone…I didn’t even know I had a heart until you made it beat.” He murmured, tightening his grip. “Now this heart belongs to you. And I’ll fucking kill every last person that tries to keep you from me…”

You shuddered, breathing him in. “We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”

He hummed, nodding softly, the two of you swaying to the gentle melody, ignoring the cold rain pouring down against your bodies. You weren’t sure how long you’d stood there, minutes, maybe even hours--but as the song came to an end, switching to another, more upbeat one, you smiled, meeting his dark, gleaming eyes.

“I love you, Mattheo.”

He pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, Raven.”

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r3starttt · 1 month ago

Text

FULL MOON

PAIRING: werewolf! reader x abby

SUMMARY: The space grown between you and abby has ignited a primal desire that you can no longer suppress!

CW: abby is a sweetheart in here. mutual fingering. mentions of blood. angsty.

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @softlikesilk-chiffon @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @roos4lm4 @abbys-muscles | ABBY TAGLIST: @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @aouiaa @twopeoplee @wastdstime | as always @clairoscharm, I feel like this sucks.

It wasn’t the first time you managed to survive after a full moon. The last one had come and gone just a few days ago, on the seventeenth. That night still weighed heavy on your mind, but not for the usual reasons. You had left her house for a run, a routine she had suggested months ago to help channel the chaos building up inside you before each transformation. The week had been suffocating��every day a whirlwind of stress—and by the time you had an argument with her, it felt like you were just looking for reasons to escape. You weren’t angry with her, not really, but you didn’t go back that night.

It wasn’t unusual for people to drift away from you during the days leading up to a full moon. Your moods shifted unpredictably, your nerves constantly on edge. The heightened senses made everything sharper, louder, and more unbearable. You became irritable, snappish, the kind of person no one wanted to be around. As much as you tried to remain yourself, there was always that lurking aggression, the impulsiveness you couldn’t quite control. You longed for touch, for someone to ground you with tenderness, but the moment anyone tried, you recoiled, fumbling with excuses about being stressed or "not in the mood." And though you understood your own desperate need for affection, you also understood why others left. Who could blame them? Why would anyone stay when the weeks before a full moon were a minefield, with no freedom to navigate around you without stepping on something volatile? They left because they had no argument to stay, and the thought gnawed at you—were they only here out of obligation or guilt? Maybe they had someone else.

But Abby stayed. She always stayed.

It was Abby who had suggested the running in the first place. She had a way of soothing you without saying much, knowing when to push and when to step back. Running through the woods near your house, or hers, had become a ritual of sorts. The freedom of the outdoors gave you space to let loose that building euphoria, to release the energy that clung to your skin like static. Afterward, you would return to her, your body still buzzing but finally calm enough to accept her touch. Her hands would cradle your flushed, sweaty face, and she’d kiss you softly, grounding you in the safety of her arms. Abby was endlessly gentle, ridiculously understanding, always knowing just how to make you feel like yourself again.

But this past week had been different. The pressure of life itself was suffocating, making your senses more overwhelming than usual. Everything grated at you. Your fangs ached at odd moments, sharp and painful. The smells of the city assaulted your nose, pungent and nauseating, and the sounds were unbearable—every honk, shout, and murmur seemed to scratch at your ears. Seeing Abby helped, sometimes just hearing her voice on the phone at the end of a long day, your body wrapped around a pillow as you tried to wind down. She’d call, and you’d talk until you were too exhausted to stay awake, drifting off somewhere in the middle of your conversation.

But this time, there had been no call. No message, no apology text to smooth over the edges of your argument. The silence was maddening. It gnawed at your thoughts, and the frustration seeped into every part of you. Your nails had grown sharper, and the small scratches you’d given yourself from restless, nightmare-filled sleep weren’t healing. It was a sign you were pushing yourself too hard, teetering dangerously close to the edge. The lack of release, the inability to transform when your body needed it, was making everything worse. The tension had built up over the week, and when the full moon finally came on the seventeenth, the transformation was brutal.

You hadn’t just been burdened by the fight with Abby, though that certainly weighed on you. It was the whole week, the overwhelming need for release, and your fear of losing control. The transformation had been agonizingly slow. Every bone in your body shattered and reformed with excruciating precision. Your muscles stretched and contorted, fur sprouting in patches that itched and burned. It felt like your body was ripping itself apart, piece by piece, and you were powerless to stop it. It reminded you too much of the first time it happened, when the pain was unbearable, and you didn’t know if you’d ever come out the other side whole.

The weight of that night still clung to you, days later, like a bruise that hadn't fully healed. You were restless, nerves frayed, waiting for a sign that things would calm down. But Abby’s silence only stretched longer, a quiet thread pulling tighter with each passing day. It became unbearable, so you found yourself heading to her place without really planning to, hands gripping the steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping you tethered.

It was late, the moon no longer as brilliant as it had been just a few nights ago. Its dull glow matched the tension gnawing at you—though now it wasn’t just the residual unease from that night. Now, it was Abby herself, and the growing attachment you felt for her. It wasn’t your body craving touch anymore, it was something deeper, something you weren’t sure how to handle. The city streets were eerily quiet, or maybe they’d always been that way, and it was just your mind playing tricks, making everything feel more intense, more suffocating.

The trees started to swallow the road as you drove, their branches encroaching like shadows creeping across the sky. You loosened your white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel just long enough to fumble for your phone. The dim glow of the screen illuminated your face, but it failed to unlock with your face in the darkness, so you cursed under your breath and manually typed the password. Abby’s contact had slipped from the top of your recent calls, and something about that stung. You pressed the call anyway, the green glow of the call screen casting a ghostly light inside the car as you tossed the phone aside and kept driving.

The ringing seemed to go on forever, the vibration rattling in sync with your nerves, until—finally—it stopped. You tried again, and again, until her voice cut through the silence. “Hi, I’m on a run.” Her breathless voice was strained, like she couldn’t quite catch it between her words. You smiled, the relief immediate, like a weight lifting just from hearing her. At least she wasn’t ignoring you entirely. Maybe she wasn’t as angry as you feared.

“Wait,” you blurted before she could hang up, your voice urgent, almost desperate. You could hear her heavy breathing, the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the pavement, the wind rushing past the phone. “I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

There was a pause—just long enough for doubt to creep in—before she finally replied. “Yeah, see you.”

She hung up before you could say more, before you could say the words you’d been holding back for too long. You clenched your jaw, trying to push down the rising tide of thoughts swirling in your head. Why couldn’t you just tell her you loved her? Why did everything feel so tangled?

Abby was running to clear her head, trying to make sense of you, of everything. You’d been so open, so sweet just weeks ago, but now it was like you couldn’t even look her in the eyes. She knew it couldn’t just be stress—there had to be something else you weren’t telling her. The question hung over her: if she pushed you to open up, would it help, or would it only make things worse? Would it drive a wedge deeper, or could it be a turning point?

She wrestled with it as her feet pounded the pavement, her breath coming in sharp bursts. You were stubborn, endearingly so, but right now, she wished more than anything for you to just let go, to trust her, to open up even a little. She didn’t know how to approach you after the fight, didn’t know if you were as lost in your own thoughts as she was. And the terrifying part was the not knowing—if she was wrong about you, about everything between you two, then what?

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel again, heart heavy with the fear that, no matter what you did, nothing would be the same after tonight.

Somewhere amid the chaos of your thoughts, you parked near the large forest park sign. The dim light of the parking lot washed over you as you turned off the engine and slumped back in your seat, glancing at your phone, hoping it might somehow make the minutes pass more quickly or summon her arrival. A familiar discomfort gnawed at your jaw, an anxious tingling in your gums that felt like a warning. You clenched your teeth, trying to make the sensation fade, but only succeeded in biting your inner lips. “Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath.

Restlessness took hold, and you began to bounce your leg, your feet tapping rhythmically against the car floor as your breath quickened and became uneven. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes and counting your breaths until they settled into a steadier rhythm. Just as you felt yourself calming down, a sharp knock on the window broke the spell. It was Abby.

Her face glistened with sweat, baby hairs plastered to her forehead, and her braid tousled from running. She wore your hoodie, the one you had bought to match hers, and your heart twisted at the sight. At least you weren’t breaking up tonight, right? You reached for the lock, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked the door. It took her a moment to pull her headphones off and open the door before settling into the passenger seat. You turned the engine back on, the familiar hum a small comfort.

“Hey…” you whispered, not quite meeting her gaze.

“Why’re you here?” she asked, her tone flat but not unkind. She was entitled to feel that way, especially after everything. Abby had been endlessly patient with you, while you felt like a storm of confusion and chaos. It stung, even if it shouldn’t have.

“I wanted to talk about… what happened last week. I—”

She interrupted you, shaking her head. “I’m not mad.”

A wave of relief washed over you, bringing with it a warmth only she could provide. “I’m not mad either.” Your voices overlapped, and she nodded, an understanding look in her eyes. "I know."

But then silence enveloped you, thick and heavy. You didn’t know what to say or do, and she looked so beautiful, so kissable, and—“What happened? You were insufferable this time,” her eyebrows drawing together in a gentle prompting for you to open up.

Her hands found yours, and suddenly the air felt thick, as if it was suffocating you. She laughed lightly between her words, her sweetness almost overwhelming you. So why did you feel so attacked? “There’s… I don’t- You know It happens every once in a while, and I can’t control it. Yes, I was insufferable—" all the words you could say turned into a mess, "you’re too sweet to me, and it’s just not fair.” The words spilled out in a jumble, sounding more like a frightened ramble than a coherent explanation.

“Hey, look at me.” Her hand cradled your face, gently guiding your gaze to hers. You did as she asked, but the warmth of her touch sent a rush of heat through you.

“It’s never happened like this. I’m just worried there’s something else you’re not telling me. Maybe I could help.”

You couldn’t reply.

“I love you. And you know that, whatever it is— even if your stubborn ass won’t tell me, I’ll be here for you.” She leaned in, pressing her salty lips against yours in a fleeting kiss, brief but enough to ignite something deep inside you.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, but I’d like to know if there’s a way I can help. Yeah?”

Was that it? Really? Would she truly just… stay?

Her lips captivated you, igniting a wild, selfish hunger within. It was a primal urge that pulled you into a messy kiss—one that Abby adored because it let her hear how much you cherished her. Soft whines slipped through your lips and mingled with hers as you pulled her closer, your hands grasping her body with a desperation that bordered on pain. It felt good, a way for the frantic beating of your heart to distract you from everything else. The edge of the center console dug into your ribs as your noses brushed between the chaotic kisses, fingers gripping whatever they could find.

Abby’s teeth grazed your lips, teasing before they sank in gently. But this time, there was an unsettling itch, a burning sensation that you couldn’t quite identify. “Abby—Babe… abs—” Your fingers pressed against her chest, the pressure almost painful. Instantly, her body leaned back, worry etched on her face. “What’s—”

You interrupted her, flinging the door open in a surge of urgency. “I’ll be right back. I’m sorry.” The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone without your phone, your keys—nothing but your racing heart, pounding as if it might burst from your chest.

Abby stared in silence, your figure receding into the darkness, swallowed by the quiet of the forest. Her breath hitched, her glistening lips bitten by her teeth to hold back tears. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in her mind, all focused on you. After what felt like an eternity, she finally stepped out of the car.

You ran as far as your legs could carry you, the itch intensifying, a fierce burn crawling across your back. You cried out at the sensation, feeling your spine crack and stretch painfully. The muscles in your calves contracted, threatening to cramp. That same burning sensation enveloped your entire body, a mixture of stiffness and tension coursing through you. It felt as if you were morphing into something unrecognizable.

Your teeth shifted, becoming sharper and thicker, while fur began to sprout over your skin. Your once soft and fluffy hair transformed into a wild, chaotic mane. Pain shot through your face as it contorted into a more animalistic form, your whines and whimpers twisting into hisses and growls. And then, a loud bark erupted from your throat, a sound that seemed entirely foreign to you.

Your clothes lay shredded on the floor, a horrifying testament to your true self. You felt a mix of fear and disgust wash over you, unable to comprehend how this had happened. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest, and your senses were on high alert. You could feel her presence, sense her, and even catch the scent of her—a primal hunger rising within you. Despite that, you managed to run further away. You didn’t want to hurt her, nor did you want to be hurt by her.

But her voice lingered in your mind as if she were right next to you. The sweat mingled with the pine-scented soap she used, the lingering alcohol of her perfume still clinging to her skin. You remembered how tender and soft she felt, how you had bitten her before. Your nails had sunk into her skin, a delicious temptation that stirred a craving within you—one that would be too painful to ignore. The urgency only intensified as her name escaped her lips in desperation.

She was searching for you, her ragged breathing driving you wild. The sound of her voice made your hunger grow. Abby was the easiest, most delectable prey you could imagine. Yet, this wasn’t you—not really. You would never fantasize about her blood or her skin.

Time passed as you put distance between yourselves, the darkness deepening around you. Her voice gradually faded, and the primal hunger within you grew restless, seeking someone to satiate it. Your mouth, nails, and teeth had all been preoccupied with a small creature. You looked down at it, flinching as it screamed in pain. Its eyes were dull, devoid of life, the red staining its tiny body stark against its grayish-white skin.

Your feet dragged you onward, and you eventually caught a glimpse of her a few meters away. Horror filled her face as she stared at the remnants of your clothes scattered across the floor. There was no blood, no visible harm that she could see. But if you were hurt, shouldn’t she have heard? The dry leaves crunched beneath her feet, mixing with the sounds of the breeze and distant traffic. The light from her phone illuminated the path ahead, as if she were hoping to spot you or find someone who could help. But all that responded was a low growl, making her heart stop.

You practically ran toward her, not caring or thinking about the gruesome scene before Abby. She had nowhere to escape, no weapons to defend herself with, even if she wanted to. Fear lit up her pretty eyes, bracing for pain, expecting to feel teeth sinking into her skin or a searing pain somewhere in her body. But it wasn’t like that. Instead, she saw the shine of weirdly human eyes. A long, furry figure lurked in the shadows, whining and groaning in pain, red dripping from its mouth.

The growls grew louder, a morbid echo that matched the erratic rhythm of your heartbeat. Her once-white shoes were now caked in dirt, and beads of cold sweat began to form on her brow. You felt the raggedness within you begin to fade, the scene around you blurring as pain overwhelmed your senses. Yet, amid the chaos, you could hear the steady thump of her heart; despite its irregularity, it brought you a sense of security.

The chill of the earth pressed against your body as you lay among the dirt and grass, your hair cascading across your face, swaying in the breeze. You locked eyes with her, and you thought that if anyone were meant to end you, it should have been her. But Abby didn’t flinch; she only took a few cautious steps closer. Her hands raised her phone toward you, illuminating the darkness for a moment before she quickly turned the light off, causing you to glance away from the sudden brightness.

“Baby… what happened?” she murmured, her voice gentle, devoid of the disgust you had braced yourself for. Confusion enveloped you, making it hard to comprehend anything. All you could see were your nails, caked with dirt beneath them, and the raw scratches you had received when you fled. Your body fought against relaxation, reminiscent of the ache that follows a cramp.

Tears slipped from your eyes only when you met her gaze. Though she wouldn’t say it, the disgust was clear on her face. “Hey… hey,” Abby cooed, cupping your face in her hands as she examined you, concern etched across her features as she noticed every scratch. You looked at her, not with fear but with adoration. Even if she were to hurt you, it would be alright because it was her—it was Abby inflicting the pain.

“Go…” you whispered, glancing down between your bodies, even as she held you tightly. “What? No—no, I don’t—” she stammered, clearly at a loss for words for once in her stubborn, intelligent life. “Come here…” Her hand cradled the back of your head, holding you firmly, warm and comforting. “I’m a monster, Abby… please.” You nestled against her neck, inhaling the pine scent you had longed for.

“Is this what happened?” she asked, and you nodded, unwilling to offer any excuses—it wasn’t a choice you had made. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” You lifted your head slightly to look at her. “You bit me, and I felt something… I just didn’t want to hurt you,” you murmured.

“Babe… look at me,” she whispered. “You haven’t hurt me before… why would it be different now?” Her lips pressed against your forehead, her touch filled with understanding. “You looked at me like—”

Your voices intertwined, but hers prevailed. “I saw your clothes.” She gestured toward the torn fabric scattered on the ground, then turned back to you. Your gaze lingered on the remnants, filled with worry. “I was worried you got hurt… that’s all.”

Silence hung heavily between you, her grip steady and reassuring as your body trembled with uncertainty. “I love you… how cool is it to have a super strong, hairy girlfriend?” she joked, a playful attempt to lighten the moment. You chuckled softly at her words, then pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I love you too, and I’m sorry,” you replied, leaning in to lay a gentle trail of kisses against her mouth until your body finally succumbed to its exhaustion.

Abby held you close, her hands enveloping your cold skin with a mix of adoration and tenderness. Her warmth was exactly what you craved, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil.

You slid your fingers beneath her sweatpants, just playing with the edge of her boxers. The back of her thighs hit the grass beneath, her hands cupping your ass to guide you over her lap, and you follow. The tips of your fingers leave her pants to caress the soft of her stomach, over her abs. Her smile turns gentle under your touch, breaking the kiss to look at her pretty girl. Your eyes were tainted in yellow, pupils dilated and a blinding shine in them. Thin fur still adorning your skin, purple-like lips, plump and glistening. And your fangs, white tips showing very slightly.

"Let me have you..." the look on your eyes hinted a lost one, wandering over her face until they took control, guiding you to her neck to taint her skin into purple and red. Your tongue sucked and nibbled, just the smallest pressure and your fangs would dig deliciously into her pretty skin. Abby, your Abby, was whimpering.

"So good..." Your words were a murmur, as soothing as your touch. The hoodie on her body clung to your hands with a feral touch, gripping at it to get more of her displayed for you to enjoy and feast. Abby’s hands moved over her own body, taking the hoodie off her body. Her back pressed against the stiff of a massive tree behind her- it looked so from her position. Head tilted to the side, her braid hanging on the same side. Her eyes looked at the dark of the sky, the little starts adorning it with a shine as pretty as the moon. "Fuck- baby..." Her mouth opened in the blink of an eye at the sudden circles over her clit. The pad of her fingers clung to your lower back, cupping your ass with each hand and digging her fingers enough to leave a bruise.

Your lips went back to hers, abandoning her neck for a few minutes. "You're so wet." You murmured in between, devouring her whole as you much needed. "Yeah?" she mocked you back, sliding her fingers in between your pussy, scissoring them from behind. A laugh brushed your lips, contagious. Her smile looked so pretty, eventually getting interrupted to gasp at how good your fingers felt on her clit.

"I really needed you... real, real bad." Your fingers curl inside her pussy with ease, sliding in and out in a slow peace. "Oh- Fuck." The tone is quiet, similar to a gasp for air. It's unsteady and ridiculously delicious to your ears. "Thanks baby.... I love you so much." Your lips kiss the skin of her throat, sensing her quiet guilp. Her fingers interrupt, curling inside you while her other hand cups at your tits, playing with each nipple in a harsh almost painful way.

Abby can feel you smiling on her neck. The vibration of your moans guide her eyes to the back of her head, closing them to just enjoy. You clench around her so good, and your voice? "Fuck baby..."

The palm of her hands slides down on your body, taking in every inch of skin you've got displayed for her to enjoy. Once on your hip bone you get the catch, riding her fingers.

Her moans grow louder, yours become growls and groans. You can hear her wet pussy squeezing your fingers, the feeling "So fucking good baby, so good." Her head nods, digging her fingers into your skin.

The tender freckled skin adorning her now half exposed shoulders slowly grows red. Your nails break into her skin, and for a few seconds your fangs itch to do the same. The sight of her slightly blood covered neck and lips only serves for your stomach to knot. Her fingers feel so good inside you, curling and thrusting with ease at how wet you are.

"Gonna cum for me, Abby? yeah?" The frown on your face turns into a pity curve. She's out of breath, so determined to make you cum at the same time, to have that pretty sight of your teeth showing through your open mouth. To then kiss those plump delicious kiss into a sloppy kiss and end up covered in drool. "Yeah....yeah"

And just like that you please her one final time. Back curved and obscene wet sounds filling the now warmth air between both of your bodies. Your nails fight to not hurt her, ripping the white of her tank top very slightly. "Fuck... baby, please-" she's rambling, pulling you close to her just to hold you.

"Love you, so much." Your lips press over her half scratched skin, a quiet apology and thankfulness for her gentleness towards you. Mostly for fucking you so good and kissing your blood covered lips, for letting you have her.

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fallenneziah · 2 months ago

Note

hello!!! Sorry to bother or bother you, but I was wondering if you could tell me Tmnt Bayverser's reaction to a reader doing parkour? like they are very good at it, but as no one is perfect sometimes they end up with some marks on their bodyfor example, the reader reaches out to greet Bumblebee and the Optimus eyes fixate on the purple bruise on the reader's skin

Optimus: You're running again, aren't you?

reader: yes!!! I broke my record!!

At first I was a tiny bit confused since you seemed to reference Ninja Turtles but then you brought up transformers... So I'm assuming you want Transformers. Thanks for the asks anon, I apologize for this being stuck in my drafts for so long. 😓

Transformers x Reader who does Parkour.

I'd like to think that they aren't that new to the concept. Thri seeking, tricks, jumping around on things and still doing it even after getting hurt.

I'm sure other than the very extreme gladiator pit and other training arenas that they had things like that on Cybertron.

Although you are different from them, so Optimus doesn't totally understand why you would do something that would cause you pain.

When he saw your bruises and callouses when meeting you he was curious.

He bent down, looking at you, scanning you. Then he introduced himself. "My name is Optimus Prime," you do your best to shake his hand, holding onto his finger. That's when he noticed a bruise on your bicep.

He hummed thoughtfully. "You're injured." You looked down and chuckle. "No, I'm not, I'm actually just a sporty person. The bruises are normal."

"Do you need medical examination?"

"Nah, I'll be alright." You smile at him, and Optimus nods.

Overtime of your friendship with the team they come to understand more of what you do. Bumblebee will drive with you to the outdoor climbing park so he can watch you from some feet away as you do your thing.

He used to be something of a parkour artist on Cybertron as well I would think. But they did become much more concerned for you.

You returned to base early, huffing and puffing, covered in sweat when you saw Optimus, his attention stolen by your state. "Y/n, I'd wondered if you'd disappeared. Are you alright??"

You nodded, bending down and settling your hands on your knees. "I'm good, big guy- phew- oh man that was fun."

Optimus raised an optic ridge and approached, kneeling down to you again. "You've been running again then?" You nod, leaning against his hand that he offers so you can relax. When you grab on he notices a few setting bruises.

"Seems you've been busy."

"I had to break my record." You pant, looking up at him with an electrifying smile.

Optimus firmly nods, hearing the sound of bumblebee coming over, noticing you. His radio going off with a "Hallelujah everybody!"

You chuckle breathlessly and smile. "Hey 'Bee! I broke my record!!"

Bumblebee revs his engine and bends down next to Optimus, who leans you back up and steps back for some space.

"Oh yeah 'Bee." You showed him your watch, which had recorded your time. "Look at that 😄"

Bumblebee whirred loudly, giving you a fist bump.

He noticed the bruises, whining softly, checking them. "Oh they aren't too bad 'Bee. I'm just a little banged up."

Your way of explaining bruises to the team had been it's essentially buffering, the dent stays for a bit until your body buffers it out.

'Bee nodded, gently patting your head.

Now, If Ratchet ever saw your injuries you know he's be ready to lecture you. Telling you how humans are inherently stupid for getting themselves hurt all the time. Unless you point out how they fight and get hurt all the time... Then he'll shut up and just look you over.

He doesn't dislike you, he cares for you and your fragile human body very much.

Overtime they get used to you coming back with minor injuries like bruises. Bumblebee even gets into how big can the bruise get?? And you entertain the idea while the others just... Watch in disbelief of you two.

And then one day you come back with a little more than a bruise. Bumblebee came to pick you up, whirring when he saw the wrist guard you were wearing.

"It's ok 'Bee, just a sprain."

'Bee whirred his engine. and on the way back to their little hideout you told him what a sprain was.

Yeah, don't even get me started on what happened when Optimus saw that. Sauntering into base without a fully functioning hand!? Off to Ratchet!

"Y/n, you need to be more careful." Optimus said while leading you to Ratchet.

"I know, but we've got medical tools to help me heal Optimus, it's not like I'm dying." You teased.

He shot you a look, a brief note of frustration, before resting his expression again. "I am still going to let Ratchet look at you."

You gulped. Aw man...

When Optimus brought you in, Ratchet reacted how you can expect. He crossed his arms and took a look at your hand. "You aren't being careful." He said firmly.

"I am-"

"No more running, even after you heal." He said firmly.

"Yeah, well you can't ban me." You also crossed your arms.

Optimus sighed softly, giving his old friend a look. They didn't understand, but hey, if you wanted to do it, they couldn't stop you. They just worried when you got hurt.

#transformers x reader #transformers #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #bumblebee #bumblebee x reader #maccadam #I feel like this is underwelming but im revisiting it after who knows how long #transformers fic #transformers ficlet

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a-d-nox · 10 months ago

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pac/pap: message from your future spouse/partner

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: what energy should you bring with you into the new year?

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile 1

their physicality: emo style, pale, dark hair, tired looking, vitiligo, multicolored hair, highlighted hair, heterochromia, attractive, cute, stylish, possible smoker, and/or nice voice

their personality: impulsive, spontaneous, foreign, traveler, commitment issues, wanderer, needs space/freedom, adventurer, flirty, mesmerizing, agile, easily jealous, charming, irritable, scatter-brained, high-energy, easily distracted, and/or indecisive

where you are likely to meet: outdoors, at an art gallery, decor/antique shop, flower shop, alternative medicine shop, card section of a store, when buying beauty products, somewhere you are meant to dress up, art class, at a metaphysical shop, psych office, at night, the movie theater, night club, new york, naval academy, on a boat/cruise, at the beach, yachting, and/or somewhere coastal

now maybe this person doesn't have the best track record with previous lovers. in fact, it might be a bit chaotic to you when first hear about it. maybe when you meet them they will be freshly out of a recent breakup. they might be the type of person to remains friends with exes. those exes might even be actively involved in their life. that likely stems from their fear of commitment or their fear of being alone. currently, they are still learning that letting endings happen leads to new space for "bigger and better things" and people (like you).

to them, you are like the only star on the darkest night. they will only have eyes for you because you will be their muse. they adore you. you are so incredible in their eyes. they will see you as someone who is immensely strong, faithful, and optimistic. they find you to be a breath of fresh air - when they are with you, they feel like they can dream. they see all the possibilities of what could be and what they could become to transform into someone worthy of you.

they have some great qualities but ranking highest is their urge to control the chaos in your life for you. they are protective - they don't like to see you overwhelmed or hurt by the world around you, so they willfully step in the path of chaos to protect you. when you are overwhelmed, they are the first to volunteer to take care of anything for you. especially, when it involves them, they want to stay with you at all costs, so they will do whatever it takes to appease you and make you comfortable. they also are very wary and do not believe everything at face value, which, in my opinion, is a good quality. they don't take "i'm fine" as it is; they need to know that you are seriously fine. they don't do insta-love either which is good because, in my experience, those are the connections where the relationship is quick to fizzle out. they search for honesty and truth in all things but even more so with a romantic partner. and you? you are as genuine as they come. one last quality i want to mention before moving on is their stability and reliability. when this person makes up their mind, their mind is unchangeable. when they commit there is no out - they are all in. they are someone very stabilizing, driven, and generous when they decide that you are the one for them. they will no doubt make you their partner in crime. they will want you with them to explore the world and to spoil.

i feel like there will be noticeable tension in your pre-relationship that will bring you guys together. it will make you both feel destabilized and make you wonder if you are doing the right thing. you might feel like you are being vulnerable unnecessarily and that the relationship will amount to nothing but that won't be the case. challenges are momentary and are meant to bring you back to where you are meant to be.

the connection will bring happiness and intense emotions, especially, because you are both willing to confront each other with honest feelings and fears. you are both assertive and focused on your goals to make a future together.

song: "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys

pile 2

their physicality: distinctive features, angular features, black/dark hair, chiseled look, strong chin, emotional, seductive, attractive, pale, curvaceous, and/or darker skin tone (olive, easily tans, etc).

their personality: talkative, articulate, dextrous, gossiper, eloquent, influential, spiritual, soulmate, deep, independent, constantly in motion, diplomatic, and/or mediator.

where you are likely to meet: via a friend, someone sets you guys up, at the doctor's office, therapist office, walking a dog, at the veterinarian's, doing charity, while out to eat, at a bar, at the bank, making a donation, a romantic place, and/or at the cardiologist

i sense that they have a good reputation when it comes to love. they are notably nurturing, reliable, sensual, and dependable in a partnership. they go into a connection wanting to build a strong and lasting relationship.

they love that you are always trying to improve yourself. in the past, you may have been codependent on other and you might have relied on others to make you feel happy, but when you meet them, your efforts to do the opposite will be noticeable to them. you won't have unrealistic expectations for them, in fact, when you communicate with them regarding your expectations in the connection, they will find them very doable and will respect you for being upfront with them.

this person has rather unique qualities that makes them an attractive partner. for one they are aware that their emotions and thoughts sometime cloud them from seeing the reality of a situation. they can acknowledge their stress without taking it out on you and those around them. they like to manage their mental health so they can lead a productive life, they aren't afraid of making changes to better accommodate their situation. it is important to them to implement healthy coping strategies such as journalling. journalling and talk therapy likely made them the eloquent individual they are when they meet you. another attractive quality is their humble natural - they aren't haughty people who believe they are better than those around them. in fact, they aren't afraid of questioning themselves and their abilities - they realize that they are not the only one with answers and abilities. they don't do anything impulsively, they think carefully about everything before they actually do anything. lastly, they aren't afraid to admit they need space to take care of themselves - they aren't the type of person who allow others into their space just so they can lash out at them. they are very caring even when they feel depleted. they look within to nourish themselves, so you never have to fear that they will drain your well to refill their own.

you both will be brought together after you both feel more stabilized (emotionally, mentally, monetarily, etc) and are willing to commit. while careful planning isn't the sexiest thing in a connection, the sense of stability you will find with one another after such a long time of waiting to find each other will be well worth it.

this was a match made in the heavens, in my opinion. it was simply meant to be - this is the most important connection of your lifetime and they are your soulmate without a doubt. you both will love and respect each other all your lives. when you lead with love, what else could you expect.

song: "helena" by my chemical romance

pile 3

their physicality: physically fit, bodybuilder, good looking, in shape, attractive, dark/black hair, and/or darker skin tone (olive, tan, etc).

their personality: depressive, unhappy, down, lower self-esteem, pessimist, sickly, talkative, dextrous, gossip, mediator, loyal, devoted, friends first, humble, persistent, trustworthy, dependable, and/or friendly.

where you are likely to meet: somewhere with illegal activity, IT, technology shop, via a plumber, jewelry shop, at an amusement park, on the road, in a courthouse, at a political rally, at a voting booth, a highway, at an art class, at a metaphysical shop, a psych office, at night, at the movie theater, at a night club, and new york.

i sense that they aren't overly experienced with relationships, mainly because they have been working on themselves. they have been looking for someone to build a strong relationship with. someone who matches their enthusiasm, passion, and/or intensity.

they love that you can wait for things they you really desire - you have very good restraint. you aren't afraid of adjusting and refocusing your plans and goals to fit where you are right now. you aren't easily frustrated by a lack of progress - slow and steady wins the race for you, and they adore that you have that level of determination, patience, and passion.

your partner will have some astounding traits that are kinds blowing to me as i read these cards. for one, i sense that this person is very healthy - they don't have any exes waiting in the winds for them and hoping they will come back. their exes know they just won't be back. when they are done, everyone knows that they are indeed done. change is natural and normal to them - they have no problems letting go of things and people that don't help them grow or serve them in the long run. they like things and people that have purpose and are driven. they will do whatever it takes to go into this next chapter in life with you. this person tends to focus on the past however. sometimes it is difficult for them to see the possibilities of what could be as they fear that only bad things surround them and their circumstances. but they do not wait for the world around them to change; they begin the change within. they go through it - they have been through it. they know pain and struggle which has taught them how to be gentle, caring, and how to be content. they know how to find peace and how to be grateful for what they have gained. all of this is to your benefit.

prosperity and generosity are what bring you together. that and, of course, maturity - maybe this is someone you knew earlier and life, and now you are getting a second chance with them. by being forward and clear about your intentions this connection will continue to blossom and grow.

i feel like you will be better off and happier when you keep the relationship private - there are people on both side of your relationship that are gossips and manipulation.

song: "puppet" by tyler, the creator

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